Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

The ladies-in-waiting tiptoed away and, much against his will, Roger was compelled to swallow the draught. The doctor then lit a nightlight, blew out the candles that the women had lighted, and softly left the room.

Roger lay quiet for a few moments. He still felt shaken and queasy but he knew that he dare not remain inactive for very long, or the deeping-draught might overcome him. His eleventh-hour inspiration to make himself ill had saved him from his terrible dilemma and given him a real chance to escape. It was only a little after ten and unlikely that anyone would come to inquire after him till six, so he reckoned that he had the best part of eight hours before him. His money, sword, pistols and travelling-clothes were there beside the bed. If he could succeed in getting out of the palace unchallenged he should be able to reach Oranienbaum well before dawn. There, his gold would enable him to bribe the captain of a coaster to take him along the south shore of the Gulf of Finland to Reval, without asking any awkward questions. At the bigger port there should be no difficulty in finding a neutral ship that would carry him to Sweden. By far the worst fence that he had to surmount was getting out of the palace undetected, as he had only the scantiest knowledge of its geography and not the faint­est idea where the sentries would be stationed. But he was full of resolution now and, if caught, meant to attempt to fight his way out rather than tamely submit to capture.

His head buzzing with these new plans, he sat up. As he did so he suddenly saw that the door leading onto the corridor was slowly opening. A white-clad figure glided inside. The nightlight flickered as he moved and shimmered on the ash-blonde hair of Natalia Andreovna.

Closing the door carefully behind her, she ran across the room and, with a little gulp, flung herself full length on the bed beside him. Surprised, annoyed, and acutely worried by this new complication he put his arms round her without enthusiasm, and waited for her to speak.

After sobbing wildly for a few moments she began to choke out bitter reproaches. "Oh, Rojé Christorovitch, how could you! How could you bring yourself to do such a thing when you know how much I love you?"

"Do what?" he inquired tersely.

"Why pay court to that horrible old woman, and induce her to take you as her lover." ,

He was itching to be on his way, and the last thing he wanted was to be delayed by a lengthy explanation with Natalia. Yet, even as he sought for the quickest means of getting rid of her, it occurred to him that she might prove a most valuable ally in his escape. He had meant to go out by one of the windows, but it was certain that sentries would be patrolling the terrace and grounds. She would be able to tell him where they were stationed or, perhaps, better still, give him the pass­word for the night, so that he could walk confidently out of one of the doors.

"I learned of it but ten minutes back," Natalia went on tearfully. "All of us were still up at a table of cards when she rang her bell for the two ladies in immediate attendance. On their return they told us what had occurred, and they had your name from the Empress her­self. Oh, Roje Christorovitch, I would have secured your freedom had you but been patient. Did I not vow that I would do so? How could you conceive so hideous an idea as to get someone to arrange for you to be brought before her, so that you might deliberately tempt her with your looks, merely to escape another week or so in prison?"

"I did no such thing," Roger assured her, now tightening his em­brace. "The thing was sprung upon me a few hours back without a word of warning. Even so I managed to evade her embrace. I...."

Suddenly he paused. A footfall had sounded on the top step of the spiral stairs. Next moment there came the voice of the Empress. "To whom are you talking? Who is that with you down there?"

The footfalls came again, almost at a run. They were both staring up from under the canopy of the bed at the dimly-lit corner of the ceil­ing. Before they had time to move apart, the white blob of a face showed, peering down at them over the carved banister-rail.

With a cry of fear Natalia wriggled off the bed. Roger drew the sheets up round him. Like the knell of doom the Empress's footfalls echoed hollowly as she descended the remaining stairs. As she approached the bed Natalia floundered into a trembling curtsey.

"Sol" said Catherine coldly." 'Tis the Baroness Stroganof who thinks fit to pay midnight visits to the chamber in which her mistress lodges her own chosen friends."

She swung upon Roger. "And you, Chevalier! It seems that you have made a remarkably quick recovery, that you are well enough so soon to wanton with one of my ladies!"

Thrusting aside the clothes, Roger slipped out of the far side of the bed. Picking up his cloak, that was lying on a chair nearby, he drew it round him; then he came round the foot of the bed and bowed to her.

He had seen at once that the only course now was to make a clean breast of matters, so he said gravely: "Your Majesty has less cause than you can realise for anger. This is no spontaneous amour of the moment in which you have surprised us. I told you, Madame, of my love-affair in Sweden that led to Count Yagerhom's attack on me. The Baroness Stroganof was the lady then concerned. I accompanied her to Russia and for the past two months we have been lovers here. 'Twas but natural that, hearing of my condition, the Baroness should come to see for herself how I fared."

The Empress looked down at Natalia and said coldly: "I recall now that 'twas you who first presented the Chevalier to me, at Count Orlof's reception. Is what he says the truth? Do you love him?"

"With all my heart, Madame," she whispered. "I had meant to seek a favourable opportunity of pleading with you to exercise your mercy, and give him his freedom."

The clothes that Roger had been wearing that evening were lying on a couch at the foot of the bed. Taking the two parchments from the pocket of the coat and picking up the star of St. Vladimir, he bowed again and offered them to Catherine, with the words:

"Here, Madame, is the title to the estate and the Order that you so generously gave me. Here, too, is the pardon which I fain would have kept. But I pray you take them all. I surrender my future into the keeping of God and your Majesty."

Catherine could have annulled all three by a word, but it was a splendid gesture, and she was not the woman to be outdone. With a regal sweep of her hand she cried: " 'Tis not our habit to give a thing one moment and take it back the next. Had the Baroness come to us with the truth she could have had your pardon. As for the other things we are not so poor that we cannot afford to pay well for a good evening's conversation. Keep them as mementoes of your visit to our Court."

As Roger went down on one knee she turned to Natalia.

"Rise child, and go to your room now. Your sovereign has loved enough to know the pains of it, and she still comes by lovers with too great an ease to wish to spoil your romance. You may tell your com­panions that they may aid your preparations; for 'tis our pleasure that you should be married to the Chevalier to-morrow morning."

Natalia and Roger came abruptly to their feet. She gave a cry of joy; he a gasp of dismay. But Catherine had not yet shot her final bolt. Her voice becoming a shade colder she went on:

"We have no desire to be reminded of this episode, so will dispense with the further attendance of either of you upon our person. 'Tis our will that after the ceremony you should depart forthwith, to take up your residence in any town of your choice—provided it be situated in Siberia."

CHAPTER XIX

LIKE A SHEEP TO THE SLAUGHTER

ROGERsat on the edge of the bed, a prey to the most shattering emotions. The Empress and Natalia had gone. He had joined his bride-to-be, with apparent sincerity, in rendering thanks for mercy to the arbitress of their fates because he had seen no other course to take. He supposed that, as a lady-in-waiting and the appointed lover of the Empress caught in one another's arms, they had got off very lightly by merely being sent to reside where they liked in Arctic Russia. And Catherine had no means of knowing that he had grown to hate Natalia Andreovna, so her decree that they should marry had, in the circum­stances, been a most humane and generous gesture.