Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

The French Ambassador did not arrive until seven o'clock, and his visit was a comparatively brief one. The shrewd-eyed young Count was evidently far from pleased that one of his nationals should stand accused of such a brutal crime; but, after having listened to Roger's story, he became much more sympathetic.

He said gravely that he did hot see how a court could fail to con­vict, but hoped the sentence might carry a recommendation to mercy. An appeal to the Empress was useless at the moment, as, although at a word she could stop any legal proceedings, there was nothing what­ever about the present case which might induce her to do so. However, as the representative of the Court of Versailles he was in a position to draw Her Majesty's attention to any verdict pronounced on one of his countrymen, and could do so the more easily in this case as the Empress had told Roger on his presentation that if he found himself in any difficulty, he was to apply to her. So, when the time came, he would use his best endeavours to persuade her that death was too harsh a punishment for a crime that had only been in part premeditated.

Within twenty minutes of the Comte de Segur's departure, the thin-faced magistrate and his clerk again appeared. Roger now agreed to make a statement, and after he had done so, answered most of the questions put to him with complete frankness. When he declined to give the name of the lady who had supped with him before Yagerhorn's arrival the magistrate refrained from pressing him to do so, and even volunteered the opinion that, since Roger had admitted his guilt, it would probably be considered unnecessary to seek out witnesses for the purpose of securing evidence against him.

When Roger was left to sort out his impressions of the day he felt considerably more cheerful than he had twenty-four hours earlier. His immediate circumstances were improved out of all recognition and he now thought it unlikely that he would be called on to pay with his life for Yagerhorn's death. There was also the immensely comforting thought that nobody appeared to be the least interested in his move­ments during his absence from St. Petersburg, or be aware that he had stolen Yagerhorn's laisser-passer ; and even Natalia apparently saw no reason to doubt his statement that he had been fishing on Lake Ladoga.

Two mornings later the Comte de Segur appeared again. His news was that at the previous night's Sunday Court the Empress had raised the question of Roger's affair on her own initiative, and said that she had given orders for proceedings to be temporarily suspended, as she had formed the desire to go into the matter herself.

It immediately occurred to Roger that Natalia Andreovna had . seized upon some suitable opening to get to work on his behalf; but the Ambassador's next words destroyed this comforting theory.

He said, "I find myself quite unable to express an opinion whether this new development is likely to have a favourable or adverse effect on your prospects; and I should be serving you ill if I did not warn you that this signal honour is due to no more than curiosity." Smiling a little wryly he added: "The truth is that in Petersburg you are now accounted a monster, and Her Majesty, ever eager for new sensations, is desirous of having another look at you."

With this cold comfort Roger had to be content till afternoon, when Dr. Drenke came to see him, bringing more cheerful tidings. Zaria was now pronounced out of danger and had made a statement to the police. She confirmed all that Roger had said of his instructions to her, and had disclosed that her attacker had been a lady of quality whom she had seen once before but whom she did not know by name.

Roger was much relieved to hear that his little serf was on the way to recovery; but he rather doubted if, in Russia, any great weight would be attached to the testimony of a young girl-slave who was known to be devoted to him. However, her corroboration of his state­ment was very much better than nothing, and once again, Natalia Andreovna had escaped implication, which was a mercy, as any charge against her would have seriously impaired her influence when the time came for her to make her plea for him to the Empress.

During the forty-eight hours that followed he received no fresh news at all of his affair, and hardly knew whether to count that a misfortune or a blessing. The food he was given, while by no means luxurious, was plentiful and varied, and he had been allowed to send in to St. Peters­burg for his clothes and money, so he was living in quite reasonable comfort. Yet, while he realised that any change in his situation might prove very much for the worse, uncertainty as to his eventual fate kept him in a state of nervous tension, and he was beginning to be afraid that the Empress had forgotten him.

That she had not, became apparent on the afternoon of Wednesday, the 5th of September, when two handsome young men of her Chevalier Guard were shown in to his room. After greeting him civilly they asked him to prepare himself to be taken before Her Majesty. He changed into his best suit, scented and powdered himself as if he were going to a ball, then accompanied them down to the echoing entrance-hall of the fortress. A shuttered carriage similar to that in which he had been brought to Schlusselburg was waiting outside. The two young men mounted their horses, Roger, his heart beating considerably faster than usual, was locked into the carriage, and it started on its long drive via St. Petersburg to the Peterhof.

They had set out at three o'clock, and with halts for changing horses, it was nearly eight by the time they arrived at the Imperial Palace. Roger was conducted to the inner guard-room and left to wait there for over an hour; then the two officers returned, drew their swords, and placing themselves one on either side of him, marched him across the vast hall and up a great marble staircase. Some way down a corridor six more glittering members of the Chevalier Guard were drawn up before a pair of tall, ornate double doors. A chamberlain tapped upon the doors with an ivory-headed staff, two footmen threw them open, and drawing himself up, Roger walked forward into the presence of the Empress.

Seated behind a great carved desk she seemed even smaller than he had first thought her, but no less regal. As he advanced he saw that the dark, sly-faced old Katerina Ivanovna, who was both the Empress's personal confidant and the head of her household, was seated just behind her, that her favourite, Momonof, looking very bored, was in one corner of the room playing with a spaniel, and that two young ladies-in-waiting working on some embroidery, occupied another.

As the guards halted, six paces from the table, Roger went down on one knee.

"Stand up," commanded the Empress sharply. "And give us your account of this heinous crime, which brands you the most abominable of murderers."

"August Majesty," he began. "With your own fine mind, great heart and able hand, you gave a new code of laws to Russia. Through­out all the world you are revered for your sense of justice. I pray you, therefore, suspend judgment as to the degree of my guilt until you have heard the stroke of ill-fortune which renders me now a suppliant for mercy at your feet."

Her blue eyes were hard and her little curved nose imperious, as she replied: "You sound a plausible rogue; but think not to curry favour with us by idle flattery. The governance of an Empire leaves us little time for such as you; so be brief and to the point."

Roger had intended to give a full description of the affair from his first meeting with Yagerhorn in Stockholm, but he now promptly changed his tactics. In a few brief sentences he described how, having a quarrel with the Count, he had used a pretext to get him to his apartment, then set upon him, and how, owing to an entirely unfore­seen sequel, Yagerhorn had been left there to die instead of being re­leased the following morning.