Dennis Wheatley - The wanton princess

Only four officers refused their aid: the rest enthusiastically hailed this chance to protect themselves from falling under the mad Czar's displeasure. In an excited mob they streamed out of the mansion and headed for the Palace. On the way there Pahlen succeeded in forming them into two groups: one that was to enter the Palace under Bennigsen, the other to remain outside with himself and overawe any officers of the guard who might attempt to make trouble. But there was no trouble. The senior officers of the Semenourki regiment were in the plot and had arranged that their sentries should allow the conspirators to pass.

Roger and the Zuboff brothers had joined Bennigsen's party. It was now close on two o'clock in the morning and all but a few of the inmates of the Palace were sleeping. Quickly the conspirators made their way across the great hall, up the broad staircase and along dimly-lit corridors to the Czar's apartments.

Outside them two heyducks were on guard and attempted to halt them. One was instantly struck down, the other managed to escape and, as he ran off shouting for help, several of the conspirators dashed away in pursuit of him.

Hearing his cries the Czar's valet, who had been dozing in the ante-room, appeared, his eyes round with terror. Knowing that he had the key to his master's bedroom, Bennigsen seized him by the throat, shook him as a terrier shakes a rat, and took the key from him. Two minutes later they were in the bedroom.

Roused from his sleep, Paul was sitting up in his huge canopied bed. but only vaguely discernible by the glimmer of a single night light. Bennigsen, waving his sword with one hand, with the other pulled from his pocket the Act of Abdication and shouted:

‘You have ceased to reign! The Grand Duke Alexander is now Emperor. I summon you in his name to sign this document. Refuse and I'll not answer for your life!'

Protesting wildly, Paul slipped from his bed and made a dash for the door leading to the Empress's apartments. Then he pulled up short, suddenly remembering that he could not escape that way because, fearing that his wife might have him murdered, he had only a few days before, ordered it to be blocked up. By his unworthy suspicions he had trapped himself.

At that moment there came the sound of tramping feet out in the corridor. Fearing that the heyduck who had got away had succeeded in reaching and rousing Paul's bodyguard and that they were now coming to his help, the conspirators panicked, faced about and ran back into the ante-room. There ensued a wild scramble as they pushed one another aside in their anxiety to get through the further door and away down the passage.

After a few moments Bennigsen regained his wits and bellowed, 'Stop, you fools! Defend the door! Give me five minutes and I'll force him to sign, then threaten him with death unless he orders his people to let us freely leave the Palace.’

Except for Plato Zuboff, his brother Nicholas and Roger the others ignored Bennigsen's plea and ran on. It seemed now that, if the coup was to be accomplished, every moment was precious. With no word said, all four of them turned about and dashed back into Paul's bedroom.

During their brief absence he had scrambled back into bed and had endeavoured to conceal himself under the heavy rugs at its foot. Three parts drunk with wine and excitement, Bennigsen and the Zuboffs launched themselves at the bed and began to tear away the covers. One of them knocked over the night light and a moment later the room was plunged into total darkness.

Roger drew a sharp breath as it flashed into his mind that this contretemps spelled disaster. In the pitch darkness it would be impossible to make the Czar sign the abdication. At any moment now Paul's bodyguard might arrive on the scene. Even if Bennigsen carried out his threat to kill the Czar, there would be no escape for those who had brought about his death. All four of them would be overwhelmed and slaughtered.

Swiftly he assessed his own chances. Shouts and the noise of a desperate struggle came from the direction of the bed, but no sound came from the ante-room or the corridor beyond it. If he acted at once and abandoned his com­panions, there was still a chance that he might evade the guards, find some place in which to hide until the fracas between them and the conspirators had been settled one way or the other then, under cover of darkness, slip out of the Palace.

Heading for the door he fumbled his way out of the bedroom. The ante-chamber was almost as dark, being lit only by a faint glow that came from lights some way down the corridor. He halted abruptly, his mind still racing with thoughts of his perilous situation and all that hung on this attempt to force Paul to abdicate.

To achieve that end he had made the long, exhausting journey to St. Petersburg and for many weeks had tirelessly intrigued to bring it about. Barely five minutes earlier he had seemed to be within an ace of reaching his goal. Had he done so, it would have altered the whole balance of power in Europe to the inestimable advantage of Britain. If there was still even a slender chance that he could yet succeed in that, could he square it with his conscience to save himself rather than risk his life?

For another moment he was racked by awful indecision, then his sense of duty overcame his fears. The chance lay in quickly finding a light that he could bring to the bedroom, so that Paul could be coerced to sign the act of abdication before the arrival of his guards. Some way down the corridor there were lamps or candles burning. Resolved now, whatever the cost, to see matters through, he started forward and dashed out of the ante-room to fetch a light.

The corridor was deserted and still no sound came from further along it. Racing down it, he sped round the corner, then pulled up short as he came opposite a wall bracket holding six candles. Turning, he grasped one of them to take it from its socket. At that moment he heard distant footfalls. A glance over his shoulder showed him that a group of men was approaching from the far end of the passage, two of them holding flambeaux. Taking them for Paul's guards, he let go of the candle, instinctively drew his sword, and prepared to beat a hasty retreat.

As he did so, one of the advancing group hailed him by name. Next minute he recognized the man who had given the shout and, with a surge of relief, realized that it was not Paul's guards approaching but a number of officers who were taking part in the conspiracy. As they advanced they called to him excitedly that the escaping heyduck had been killed, that the alarm had been a false one and that Paul's body­guard had been arrested by the Colonel of the Semenourki regiment; so the Palace was now in their hands. Joining the group, Roger hurried back with them to the Czar's bedroom.

By the flickering light of the flaming torches a grim sight met their eyes. Paul lay limp across the foot of the bed. His forehead was bleeding from a blow by which he had been struck down. His head lolled back, exposing his neck and the red bruises on it showed that he had been strangled.

Bennigsen hotly disclaimed any part in the murder, and was furiously cursing the Zuboffs. Plato appeared scared by the deed, but Nicholas, a huge brute of a man. only gave a drunken laugh and cried:

The swine deserved to die. I'll go now to Alexander, hail him as Czar and ask a fair reward for this good night's work —that he restore our estates to us.' Then he staggered from the room.

Hours later Roger learned from Count Pahlen what had followed this terrible scene. Nicholas Zuboff had gone straight to the Grand Duke and told him bluntly that his father was dead. Alexander had been completely shattered, burst into tears and refused all consolation. Pahlen had then learned that the Empress, on being informed that her hus­band was dead, had claimed the right to succeed and was rallying her friends about her. He had hastened to Alexander, found him still in tears but forced him to pull himself together and, to prevent his mother usurping his throne, allow himself to be proclaimed Emperor. In the murky dawn of March 24th the Brigade of Guards had been paraded and Alexander hailed by them as Czar of all the Russias.