Dennis Wheatley - The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

Within a dozen minutes they were a party of ten, then the door opened again, and without the least formality, the Empress walked in.

Instantly they fell silent; the men bowed deeply, the women curtseyed to the ground. As Katerina Ivanovna rose she exclaimed: "Oh, your Majesty! How gracious of you! What a joyous surprise! I had no idea that you intended to honour me to-night. Permit me to have the table re-set." And after curtseying again she glided off into another room.

The Empress accepted a glass of wine, and with a few brief sen­tences, put the company at their ease. Katerina Ivanovna returned, and, shortly afterwards, supper was announced. Fat little Catherine led the way alone and, with a glance, Katerina Ivanovna signed to Roger to give her his arm. As they brought up the rear she whispered: "There has been no time to change the general seating. I should have been at the head of the table and had placed you on my left, but now Her Majesty takes my place and you will be next to her. For good or ill your destiny now lies in your own hands."

As he took his seat the Empress greeted him civilly, and gave no sign that she regarded him as in any way different to the other guests.

To each in turn she asked some question calculated to lead to a general discussion and Roger was filled with admiration at the way in which she dominated the party yet made it pleasant for everyone present. It was soon clear to him that at this intimate gathering she did not wish to be treated as a sovereign, to whom people spoke only when they were addressed, but simply as a distinguished guest, to whom good manners dictate a certain deference without servility. She even permitted some of those present to rally her gently on her acknowledged idiosyncrasies and joined freely in the laughter.

Once Roger had gauged the atmosphere, he worked like a demon to make himself pleasant, and he was wise enough to give an almost equal share of his attention to anyone who happened to be holding the table as he did to Catherine when she was speaking. He knew that he was fighting now with his wits and ready laugh for his life and freedom, every bit as much as if he had been sword in hand opposed to a troop of enemy horsemen in a battle. When the dessert was put on the table, knowing the Empress's love for French culture, he led the conversation in that direction, and with becoming modesty, displayed his knowledge of it. He had always despised Rousseau as a windy visionary and adored the brilliant cynicism of Voltaire. As the Empress was also entirely of that mind she openly applauded his witticisms and beamed approval on him.

At ten o'clock she stood up to retire. Everyone rose with her, and to Roger's sudden consternation, she held out her hand for him to kiss.

White as a sheet he bowed over it and touched it with his lips. He hoped that she had done him this honour as a sign of forgiveness, but, knowing the cruelty, treachery, and cynicism that permeated the whole Russian court, he could not be certain that the same plump hand had not signed his death-warrant a few hours earlier, and that she thought it amusing to honour her promise to him in this way.

The incident brought him back with a horrid jerk to the realisation that for the past two hours he had not really been a welcome guest at a jolly supper-party, but a prisoner with one foot on the scaffold. It was all he could do to regain his composure sufficiently to bid a polite good-night to the other guests, who shortly afterwards took their leave.

Finding himself once more alone with Katerina Ivanovna, he said: "Madame, if I knew this definitely to be my last night on earth I could not conceivably have wished for a more pleasant one; and I am more grateful than I can say for your charming entertainment. May I now spare you the trouble of calling the guard and ask you to accept my word that I will find my own way back to the guardroom?"

She shook her bony old head. "Nay, you are in my charge now, Chevalier, and I wish to be able to converse with you at my pleasure. Come with me."

He followed her out into the corridor and along it for fifty paces, then she opened a door and showed him into a well-furnished bed­room. When he thanked her the only reply she made was to wish him good-night, and after a formal curtsey to which he bowed gravely, she left him.

On finding himself alone his first thought was to escape. He had not been asked for his parole and this seemed a heaven-sent chance to do so. Running to the window he opened it and peered out. Below him was a broad paved terrace, that gave onto the gardens. It was a twenty-foot drop, but, undaunted by that, he looked swiftly round for means to get down to it. As he did so he caught the mutter of voices below him; two figures moved out of the shadows and began to pace up and down. He knew then that it was no good. His bonds might have been changed from iron to silk, but they were still there. It was only that a less obtrusive watch was being kept-upon him, and even if he could overcome the two sentries on the terrace, he was alone and almost friendless in Russia. How could he possibly hope to remain uncaught long enough to get out of the country? Reluctantly he undressed himself and made the best of the comfortable bed.

Next morning a footman came to draw back his curtains, then brought him an appetising breakfast. Having eaten it he got up and dressed himself to be in readiness should he be sent for. At nine o'clock there came a knock on the door and a fat, serious-looking man presented himself, announcing in German that he was a doctor and had been ordered to ascertain the state of Roger's health.

At first Roger thought that there must be some mistake, and said so, but his visitor replied thickly: "If you are the Chevalier de Breuc there is no mistake. It is the usual procedure, and you will oblige me by undressing."

As it seemed most unlikely that convicted criminals had to undergo a medical examination before they were taken to execution, Roger could only assume that this was a regulation measure adopted with everyone who came to reside in the palace, as a precaution against infectious and contagious diseases being carried into it. In his own case it seemed a little belated, but he thought that was probably owing to the unorthodox means by which he had become a resident there.

When Roger had stripped as requested the doctor made a most careful examination of every part of his body, and at length, pro­nouncing himself satisfied, packed up his little black bag and departed.

Half an hour later the footman came in again, carrying a pile of books. After presenting Madame Katerina Ivanovna's compliments, he said that, as she had an exceptionally heavy day, she begged that Roger would entertain himself as well as he could with the books and excuse her until the evening.

Having no choice, Roger returned his thanks, browsed among the books, ate the good dinner that was sent to him, and spent a few hours dozing. Soon after seven o'clock the door opened and Katerina Ivan-ovna appeared framed in it. She did not enter the room but beckoned to him to join her outside.

When he did so she led him along several corridors, then down a long arched passageway with windows on either side of it through which the gardens could be seen dimly in the fast-failing light. He knew then that she was taking him across to the Empress's own private retreat, the Hermitage, and he assumed that he was on his way to learn his fate from Her Majesty's own lips.

On entering the smaller palace they went downstairs to the ground floor. Katerina Ivanovna then opened a door and took him into a long suite of private apartments consisting of two ante-rooms, a library, a reception-room, a dining-room and a bedroom; all of which had beautifully painted ceilings and were furnished with great splendour.