Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

With that Roger had to be content for the time being, but he felt that his prospects of devising some means of getting out of the country were considerably brighter than he had thought them the previous day. He therefore led the talk into other channels, and a little before eleven, they arrived at the English Factory.

To his surprise a stream of people, mostly dressed in sober black, was crossing the main courtyard, and entering the church. A few equipages were setting down richly-clad Russians, some of whom he recognised as relatives of Natalia's to whom he had been introduced the day before, but the bulk of the little crowd had a curiously home­like, British look; and only then did he realise that it was Sunday morning. His recent experiences had made him lose count of the days, but evidently Mr. Tooke's usual congregation were assembling for the Sabbath service, so he assumed that his wedding-ceremony would not take place until after it.

The Reverend William was waiting in the porch to receive him, and Roger anxiously scanned his face, hoping for a sign that he had decided to help him in some way; but the clergyman's expression was blankly courteous as he asked Roger and his companions to go in and seat themselves in the front pew on the right. A few minutes after they had taken their places, Natalia Andreovna, dressed ready for a journey, arrived with her bridesmaids and they filed into the opposite pew. The service then commenced.

By contrast to that of the previous day it was the essence of simple, genuine worship, and it made Roger homesick to a degree that he found almost unbearable. The English voices, the hymns and psalms, all brought back to him with poignant clarity the services he had attended with such regularity during his boyhood in Lymington at the old parish church of St. Thomas a' Becket. When he closed his eyes in prayer he could so easily imagine himself back there again, but on opening them one sideways glance showed him Natalia's beautiful, wicked profile barely a yard away across the aisle. More than once he was seized with the impulse to spring to his feet and shout aloud that he would not marry her, but he knew that it was too late, the deed was already done.

Mr. Tooke preached upon resignation to the will of the Lord. Roger felt sure that the text had been chosen for his benefit, and that the good man was urging him both to make the best of the marriage into which he had entered so unwillingly and to accept with becoming humility the banishment decreed for him. It was certainly not a good augury that Mr. Tooke had any intention of suggesting a means by which' he could escape, and it plunged Roger into further depths of gloom.

At the conclusion of the service Mr. Tooke announced the marriage and that any of the congregation who wished to remain as witnesses to it were welcome to do so. Roger and Natalia then took their places and were united according to the rites of the Church of England; after which Mr. Tooke addressed them briefly in a low voice, in French.

He said that they had met and married in what was to Roger a land distant both in thought and customs from his own, and that in the course of time Natalia might be called on to follow her husband to a country which she would find strange and different from that of her birth. Moreover he believed there was some reason to suppose that their union had been brought about with little time for the deep consideration that such a step merited, and in unusual circumstances. But that they should never allow such extraneous matters to impair their acceptance of the cardinal fact that, for better or for worse, they had been joined together in the sight of God. Now that they were wed they must con­sider themselves as one, each giving way to the other's prejudices as often as they could bring themselves to do so, and abiding loyally by the solemn vows they had taken to love and cherish one another.

Natalia cried openly during this short address, and Roger was deeply moved. It brought home to him as nothing else yet had done the full implications of the step he had taken. That he had been forced to it now seemed beside the point, as was also the unlovely vicious streak in Natalia's nature. Apparently she could not help the delight which, seized her at the thought or sight of physical brutality, and since their arrival in Russia she had given ample proof that she had conceived a deep passion for him. She was beautiful, rich, vivacious and unfailingly interesting to talk to. Most men, he knew, would consider themselves fortunate to have won such a bride.

Suddenly, he saw the whole issue in a new light. It was borne in upon him that no possible good could come of his continuing to regard his marriage as a trap into which he had fallen. He must accept it as the will of God and follow Mr. Tooke's wise counsel.

There and then he determined both to make every effort to eradicate Natalia's love of cruelty, and to treat her with all the generosity and kindness of which he was capable. Looking at her tear-stained but radiant face as they left the altar, he felt that if he acted on this new resolution, their strange marriage could yet be made a success and that he might come truly to love her.

Followed by their relations and friends they went to the vestry, and while everyone else was watching Natalia sign the register Mr. Tooke slipped a small, three-cornered note unobserved into Roger's hand. In view of the sermon on resignation to which he had just listened he was hard put to it to conceal his surprise, but the emotion was swiftly overcome by acute impatience to read it and learn if the clergyman had, after all, devised some means by which he might evade having to set out for Siberia.

His gloves were out of sight in the pocket of his travelling-coat, so exclaiming that he must have left them in the pew, he hurried back into the now empty church. Opening the note with trembling fingers, he read:

The brig White Rose out of Hull, Captain Tommy Bell, is lying at the timber-wharf and is due to sail for home a few days hence. I have spoken with Mr. Bell, who tells me that he could accommodate two passengers, and I have arranged with him to expect you aboard some time to-night.

Roger could have jumped for joy. Coining immediately after the familiar service, the English voices and the sight of the sturdy independ­ent-looking congregation, the very words ""White Rose—Hull—Tommy Bell" held a magic ring; they seemed to epitomize British courage, honesty and freedom, and at the same time to conjure up so many gentle decencies of life that he had found totally lacking in Russia.

Thrusting the note into an inner pocket, he hurried back to the vestry, to find that Mr. Tooke had just invited the company to adjourn to the parsonage and join him and his wife in a glass of wine. Upstairs in the pleasant drawing-room Roger paid his respects to Mrs. Tooke, and, a few minutes later, managed to get a word in private with her husband. Having thanked the clergyman from the bottom of his heart he spoke to him of Zaria and asked him to take charge of her when she came out of hospital. On Mr. Tooke agreeing, he wrote a brief note making the little serf over to him, and added to it a gold Imperial as a present for her. Then, happy in the .thought that he had at one stroke made a useful gift to the man who had helped him and assured the girl a good home, he rejoined Natalia.

"We must not long delay our setting out, my love," she smiled, as he came up to her, "for we have far to go before night."

Some of her friends who were standing nearby then rallied him on his impatience to carry her off, and said that he might at least have allowed her one night in St. Petersburg.

Knowing the secret reason which lay behind their starting at once he laughed the matter off; but he still had no idea what arrangements had been made for their journey until, on going downstairs, he saw two heavy travelling-coaches drawn up outside.