The more I reflected, the more unwise seemed that sudden outburst of my pretty little companion in the winter garden on the night before. If anyone had overheard her threat, then no doubt it would reach the ears of that man who daily swept so many innocent persons into the prisons and étapes beyond the Urals. I knew, too well, of those lists of names which he placed before the Emperor, and to which he asked the Imperial signature, without even giving His Majesty an opportunity to glance at them.
Truly, those were dark days. Life in Russia at that moment was a most uncertain existence, for anyone incurring the displeasure of General Markoff, or any of his friends, was as quickly and effectively removed as though deaths sword had struck them.
Much perturbed, and not knowing how to act in face of what the Emperor had revealed to me, I was turning from the window back to my writing-table, when one of the English footmen entered with a card.
Oh, show him up, Green. And bring some cigarettes, I said.
My visitor was Ivan Hartwig, the famous chief of the Russian Criminal Detective Service an entirely distinct department from the Secret Police.
A few moments later he was ushered in by Green, and, bowing, took the hand I offered him.
A lean, bony-faced man, of average height, alert, clean-shaven, and aged about forty-five. His hair was slightly streaked with grey, and his eyes, small and shrewd, beamed behind a pair of round gold-rimmed pince-nez. I had never seen him in glasses before, but I only supposed that he had suddenly developed myopia for some specific purpose. As he smiled in greeting me, his narrow jaws widened, displaying an even row of white teeth, while the English he spoke was as perfect as my own. At that moment, in his glasses, his black morning-coat and grey trousers, he looked more like a grave family physician than a police officer whose career was world-famous.
And yet he was a man of striking appearance. His broad white forehead, his deep-set eyes so full of fire and expression, his high, protruding cheek-bones, and his narrowing chin were all characteristics of a man of remarkable power and intelligence. His, indeed, was a face that would arrest attention anywhere; hence the hundred and one disguises which he so constantly adopted.
I have had private audience of His Majesty this afternoon, Mr Trewinnard, he said, as he took the chair I offered him. He has sent me to you. You wish to see me.
Yes, I said. I need your assistance.
So His Majesty has told me, but he explained nothing of the affair. He commanded me to place myself entirely at your disposal, replied the man, who, in himself, was a man of mystery.
His nationality was obscure to most people, yet we at the Embassy knew that he was in reality a British subject, and that Ivan Hartwig was merely the Russian equivalent of Evan Hardwicke.
I handed him the box of cigarettes which Green had replenished, and took one myself.
As he slowly lit his, I recollected what a strange career he had had. Graduating from Scotland Yard, where on account of his knowledge of German and Russian he had been mainly employed in the arrest of alien criminals in England, he had for several years served under Monsieur Goron, Préfet of Police of Paris, and after being attached to the Tzar on one of his visits to the French capital, had been personally invited by the Emperor to become head of the Criminal Investigation Department of Russia.
He was a quiet-spoken, alert, elusive, but very conscientious man, who had made a study of crime from a psychological standpoint, his many successes being no doubt due to his marvellously minute examination of motives and his methodical reasoning upon the most abstruse clues. There was nothing of the ordinary blunt official detective about him. He was a man of extreme refinement, an omnivorous reader and a diligent student of men. He was a passionate collector of coins, a bachelor, and an amateur player of the violin. I believe that he had never experienced what fear was, and certainly within my own knowledge, he had had a dozen narrow escapes from the vengeance of the Terrorists. Once a bomb was purposely exploded in a room into which he and his men went to arrest two students in Moscow, and not one present escaped death except Hartwig himself.
And as he now sat there before me, so quiet and attentive, blinking at me through those gold-rimmed pince-nez, none would certainly take him for the man whose hairbreadth escapes, constant disguises, exciting adventures and marvellous successes in the tracking of criminals all over Europe had so often amazed the readers of newspapers the world over.
Well, Mr Hartwig, I said in a low voice, after I had risen and satisfied myself that Green had closed the door, the matter is one of strictest confidence a suspicion which I may at once tell you is the Emperors own personal affair. To myself alone he has confided it, and I requested that you might be allowed to assist me in finding a solution of the problem.
Im much gratified, he said. As an Englishman, you know, I believe, that I am ever ready to serve an Englishman, especially if I am serving the Emperor at the same time.
The inquiry will take us far afield, I expect first to England.
To England! he exclaimed. For how long do you anticipate?
Who knows? I asked. I can only say that it will be a very difficult and perhaps a long inquiry.
And how will the department proceed here?
Your next in command will be appointed in your place until your return. The Emperor arranged for this with me yesterday. Therefore, from to-morrow you will be free to place yourself at my service.
I quite understand, he said. And now, perhaps, you will in confidence explain exactly the situation, and the problem which is presented, and he settled himself in his chair in an attitude of attention.
Ah! that, I regret, is unfortunately impossible. The Emperor has entrusted the affair to me, and to me alone. I must direct the inquiry, and you will, I fear, remain in ignorance at least, for the present.
In other words, you will direct and I must act blindly eh? he said in a rather dubious voice. Thats hardly satisfactory to me, Mr Trewinnard, is it? hardly fair, I mean.
I openly admit that such an attitude as I am compelled to adopt is not fair to you, Hartwig. But I feel sure you will respect the Emperors confidence, and view the matter in its true light. The matter is a personal one of His Majestys, and may not be divulged. He has asked me to tell you this frankly and plainly, and also that he relies upon you to assist him.
My words convinced the great detective, and he nodded at last in the affirmative.
The problem I alone know, I went on. His Majesty has compelled me to swear secrecy. Therefore I am forbidden to tell you. You understand?
But I am not forbidden to discover it for myself? replied the keen, wary official.
If you do, I cannot help it, was my reply.
If I do, he said, I promise you faithfully, Mr Trewinnard, that His Majestys secret, whatever it is, shall never pass my lips.
Chapter Six.
Relates a Sensation
Ten days had gone by. I had applied to Downing Street for leave of absence, and was awaiting permission.
One afternoon I had again been commanded to private audience at the Palace, and in uniform, had spent nearly two hours with the Emperor, listening to certain confidential instructions which he had given me instructions for the fulfilment of a somewhat difficult task.
Twice during our chat I had referred to the case of my friends Madame and Mademoiselle de Rosen, hoping that he would extend to them the Imperial clemency, and by a stroke of that well-worn quill upon the big writing-table recall them from that long and weary journey upon which they had been sent.