Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"She was Frederick the Great's sister, was she not?"

"Yes; and a finer woman than he was a man. I know little of politics and care about them less; but I have many times heard it said that had it not been for the weakness of her husband, the old King Frederick, in allowing the Riksdag to ride rough-shod over the Royal authority, she would have done great things for Sweden. As it was, all she could do was to instil her own courage, good taste and love of learning into her son; but Gustavus has ill-repaid his mother for her care. So dis­gusted was she by his depravity, and his having foisted another man's child upon the nation as his heir, that she retired from court; and her death, six years ago, was hastened by her revulsion at the news of Sophia Magdalena's second unnatural pregnancy."

As they talked on Roger soon found that the Marquise's state­ment, that she knew little of politics and cared about them less, was indeed the case. Her interest lay in people, entertainments and the arts, and of these she would talk with the greatest animation; but whenever he touched on international affairs she displayed either ignorance or boredom.

From the point of view of his task this was a disappointment; but the one thing which had given him some concern since under­taking it was that he might be called on to betray confidences made to him as a friend, and it consoled him somewhat to think that such a circumstance was unlikely to arise in the case of Angelique de Pons.

On thinking the matter over later in the day Roger was surprised to find that, whereas he would have greatly disliked having to abuse Angelique's confidence, he would have felt not the least scruple about betraying that of Natalia Andreovna. This difference in his mental attitude towards the two women brought home to him the fact that the slim Russian's attraction for him was entirely physical, whereas he really liked the French woman as a person.

They had parted with the most friendly feelings; as she had told him frankly that if she had led him on a little it was simply in order to reach a quick understanding with him, and to make it clear that she was not a prude but a woman with whom he could talk freely on any subject. She had added that if he would not regard her as a mother he must certainly do so as a sister, since she made the happiness of all young Frenchmen who came to Sweden her especial care. He had thanked her with genuine gratitude and promised to call upon her at least twice a week to keep her informed of his doings.

That night Roger drove to the Russian Embassy to attend Natalia Andreovna's salon . He found it to be a great mansion standing in its own grounds in the most fashionable suburb of the city, and from the many liveried servants in evidence it was clear that it was maintained in a degree of state which would have done credit to a minor palace.

Although he arrived early a small crowd was already assembled in Natalia's green and yellow drawing-room, so, obviously, there was no hope of any private conversation with her; but Roger had come pre­pared to find that the case, and had spent the best part of the after­noon composing a love-letter, in which, having raved about her beauty and attainments, he begged for an assignation.

She greeted him with her thin-lipped smile then turned to her father, who was standing beside her settee, and informed him that it was Roger who had rescued them two evenings before, when their coach had broken down.

Count Razumofsky, evidently to show his contempt of accepted custom, was wearing, instead of the silk tail-coat suit and patterned waistcoat usual for such receptions, a Russian costume consisting of a black velvet blouse trimmed with sable, black cloth breeches, and instead of silk stockings, high Hessian boots. Over his left shoulder he wore the broad, deep-red, watered ribbon and eight-pointed golden star that was the insignia of the Order of St. Alexander Nevsky, the second highest in Russia; so despite his unconventional dress, he made a most striking figure.

To-night he was in a very different mood from that in which Roger had first seen him. With a hearty guffaw over the accident and many jovial expressions of thanks, he slapped his rescuer on the shoulder, and abruptly leaving the people to whom he had been talking, led him away into the next room where there was a buffet with food and drink. Bawling loudly for vodka and caviare the broad-shouldered bull-necked Russian pressed Roger to take his fill, swallowed three vodkas in quick succession himself, then introduced him to some other gentlemen who had come in, told him that he would be welcome at the Embassy at any time, and left him.

Natalia Andreovna's drawing-room and two smaller rooms leading out of it were soon filled to overflowing; and Roger began to wonder how he could possibly give her his letter without attracting undue attention. He had been talking to various people for over an hour before he hit upon a plan, but once having thought it out he took the letter from his pocket, and without making any attempt to conceal it, went up to her.

As soon as he caught her eye he bowed and said: "Madame, there is a poor stricken fellow lying at my inn. Knowing your charity he begged me to give you this letter, which sets forth the particulars of his desperate situation, in the hope that you will be so touched as to succour him.''

The words Roger used applied perfectly well to his own case, but he felt certain that her great wealth must cause her to receive frequent appeals to her benevolence, and that the people about her would take what he had said in that sense. As they did not show the faintest sign of interest it seemed that his stratagem was entirely successful; and the sudden flicker of curiosity which showed in Natalia's green eyes added to his satisfaction. She was not of the type to be the least intrigued by a begging-letter; yet she opened it at once, glanced at its beginning and end, then said with an amused little smile: "Be sure the matter shall have my most sympathetic consideration, Monsieur."

After bowing himself away he ran into two of the men he had met that morning at Monsieur de Pons' breakfast-party, and they, in turn, introduced him to their ladies and others of the company; so he spent a further two hours in light, amusing conversation; then, finding that the crowd was thinning he went up to Natalia Audreovna to take his leave. As he bowed over her hand she said softly: "To­morrow evening, if you will, Monsieur, you may call for me and give me your escort to my box at the Opera."

"Madame," he murmured. "Though I shall have no eyes for it 'twill be for me the most memorable spectacle I have ever had the good fortune to attend."

Their eyes met and held one another's for a second; then, with the happy feeling that his evening had been very far from wasted he left the Embassy and returned to his inn.

The following morning Count Hans Axel af Fersan called upon him, and took him to the Guild House of the Society of Toxophilists, in the garden of which an archery contest was being held to the accom­paniment of the drinking of much lager-beer and considerable betting. When it was over Count Hans carried him off to dine with a company of gay young men, all of whom pressed Roger to accept their services, so by the evening of his fourth day in Sweden he found himself already well-established to pass his time in most agreeable society.

Excusing himself when the meal was over he returned to his inn, dressed himself in his best and presented himself at the Russian Embassy. A few minutes later Natalia Andreovna, looking truly regal in white satin, great clusters of diamonds, and an ermine cape, came down the stairs, and he led her out to the big gilded coach.

In it, on their way to the Opera House, he had too much good sense to attempt to make love to her, but he told her in no unmeasured terms how lovely he thought both herself and her toilette. On their arrival he found to his great satisfaction that she had not invited any­one else to share the roomy private box, so he could count on having her to himself for the best part of three hours.