Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

Catherine told him that she had built this wonder on a great row of arches in each of which big furnaces were kept going day and night; so that the temperature never altered, and even in the depths of the Russian winter it provided her with grapes, pineapples, hyacinths and roses.

But as they walked sedately between the palms and oleanders, her hand resting lightly on his arm, Roger's thoughts were whirling again. It suddenly struck him as grimly humorous that, within a fort­night, he should have been the recipient of two Orders of Chivalry for such fantastically divergent reasons. What would she do, he wondered, if he told her that in the filthy straw on the floor of a dungeon in her castle of Schlusselburg he had buried the Star and yellow ribbon of a Swedish decoration, and how he had earned it. Send him to take what joy of it he could there for the rest of his life, seemed the almost certain answer. But the thought prompted him to express his admiration for the fearlessness she had shown when first attacked by Gustavus, and the way in which she had despatched the few troops that she could muster to oppose his greatly superior army on her frontiers.

She smiled at him. "The Romans never asked after the number of their enemies, but where they were, in order to fight them; and I am of their mind."

When he asked her if she thought that the Swedish army in Finland would disintegrate before winter, she replied with a chuckle. "I care not, now that its sting has been drawn from it. Realising his army to be a broken reed, the insolent Gustavus has abandoned it to its fate. My spies report that he fled from his camp by night, with a few intimates, a fortnight back. I fear that by now 'tis as good as certain that he has succeeded in eluding Admiral Greig's blockade; but his homecoming will be far from a triumph, and his position will soon be rendered desperate by a pretty little surprise I have in store for him."

In a low voice she went on to tell Roger of the secret clause she had inserted in the treaty of 1773, by which she had ceded Holstein to the Danes, and how they had now agreed to honour their bond by launching a surprise attack on Sweden.

Already being aware of this deep secret his mind began to wander again to what lay ahead of him; but it was brought back with a jerk by her adding: "When Gustavus hears the news that a Danish army has invaded his western provinces from Norway he will naturally expect it to march direct on Stockholm, and devote all his energies to preparing the defences of his capital. But instead, 'tis the Danes' intention to overrun the south and seize undefended Gothenburg."

As in a dream, Roger realised that, without effort on his part, he had come into possession of the Danish plan of campaign. If he could get it to Gustavus in time, counter-measures might be taken and the tables turned. In view of Catherine's statement before supper it had become more than ever important to aid Sweden in her fight against Russia, and thus delay further Muscovite penetration into Europe. But how could he conceivably escape from his present situation; let alone, as a fugitive pursued by the police of a bitterly insulted Empress, reach Stockholm?

No further time was given him even to consider means by which he might secure a flying start next day. They had returned to the hidden door leading into Catherine's boudoir. She pressed a spring and it swung open. Damp under the collar now, he followed her inside.

Giving him an arch glance from her big blue eyes, she said, "So far I have found your company most stimulating, dear Roje" Christorovitch. In one short evening I have come to know you well enough to look forward with most pleasurable anticipation to your giving me more intimate proof of your regard. I will leave you now, but I will not keep you waiting long. In five minutes you may rejoin me."

As she turned away towards the bedroom he swallowed hard, staggered, and clutched at the table.

Swinging round she looked at him in quick alarm, and cried: "What ails thee?"

" 'Tis nought, Catherina Alexeyevna," he stammered. "Nought but over-excitement. A glass of wine will put me right. I shall be myself again by the time you—you are ready to receive me."

Reassured she walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.

In an agony of indecision and distress he looked wildly round him. He knew now that he positively could not make love to that lecherous old woman who was undressing beyond the carved and gilded door. No, not for all the riches or power in the world. Not even to save Europe from a cataclysm. He had got to get away from her. But how? How? How?

His mind had gone blank and refused to work. Vaguely he looked at the rail that guarded the spiral staircase. He could dash down it. But if he did, what was he to do then? She would call him in another few minutes, and if he did not appear, she would send her guards after him. They would catch him before he had even got out of the palace, and, despite all her natural clemency, Messalina baulked of her pleasure would exact a dire vengeance. To break in upon her now and tell her to her aged, painted face, that he could not go through with it, would serve him little better. The cheated nymphomaniac would smother the kindly woman in her, and he would be dragged off to that ghastly dungeon at Schlusselburg to repent his momentary assertion of his rights as a man during months of incarceration in a living tomb.

Suddenly his despairing glance fell upon the vinegar-bottle on the table. He loathed vinegar, and even a dash of it in a sauce was enough to make his mouth dry up and the perspiration break out on his fore­head. Grabbing the bottle, he tilted it to his mouth. In two, frightful, choking gulps he swallowed its whole contents.

His eyes bulged from his head, his stomach heaved with nausea. Fighting it down he lurched to the door and threw it open. Catherine had just got into bed, and she drew aside the curtain to smile a welcome. Only a nightlight was now burning in the room but its steady glow was sufficient for her to see his condition.

Leaning against the doorpost for support, he gasped out: "Succour me I begl I am faint, dizzy, near collapse" My stomach burns! I think I have been poisoned!"

In a moment she had thrown aside the bedclothes and came hurry­ing towards him.

Through her thin nightdress he glimpsed her squat repulsive body. Her legs and thighs were swollen to such a size that it seemed a miracle that her little feet could still carry her. As she reached him the sweat was pouring down his face and the tears streaming from his eyes. He retched, staggered out into the boudoir and collapsed upon a chair.

Seizing the silver soup-tureen she held it for him while he vomited. When he got back his breath he panted. "Your—your pardon, Madame. Someone must have known of your—your intent to honour me. And— and out of jealousy put poison in the claret you—you refused at supper —knowing that you never drink it. I—I beg you to allow me to retire— and to send your doctor to me."

Without a word she hurried back to her room and picking up a handbell rang it vigorously. As he was being sick again she returned with a chamber-robe now pulled over her nightdress, to hold his head, and, a moment later, two of her ladies-in-waiting ran in.

Concealing her annoyance, she now spoke kindly to him, smoothing his hair and soothing him like a mother, as she begged him not to dis­tress himself on her account. With quiet efficiency she gave brief orders to her women. They assisted him down the staircase to his room, helped him to undress to his shirt, and tucked him up in bed.

They had hardly done so when the old German who had given him his medical examination arrived upon the scene. He looked at Roger's tongue, felt his pulse, gave him an emetic, and waited by the bedside until he was sick again. After examining the nauseous mess the doctor told the two women that they might return to Her Majesty and report that the patient was in no grave danger. He intended to give him a sleeping-draught and had good hopes that he would be recovered by the morning.