Read the book: «The Weight of the Crown», page 13

CHAPTER XXXIV
A ROYAL ACTOR

Lechmere darted along in the direction of the secondary staircase from whence the noise of the falling body had come. It was somewhat dark there, for the gas jet at that point had been turned down and there were no electrics there. At the foot of the stairs could be seen the outline of somebody who had become entangled with a maze of salmon line and who was held up like a great blundering bee in a spider's web. Lechmere could hear him muttering and swearing to himself as he struggled to be free.

But there was no time to waste. Doubtless Mazaroff would be out of his room in a little time, and it was just possible that he might come that way. Lechmere slid down the bannisters as a schoolboy might have done; he had an open pocket knife in his teeth. Noiselessly he came down upon the struggling man and gripped him by the shoulders.

"Don't you make a sound," he hissed. "Not one word unless you want this knife plunged into your body. Be still, and no harm shall come to you."

The other man said nothing. He allowed himself to be cut free from the salmon line and dragged behind a kind of housemaid's closet at the foot of the stairs. At the same moment Mazaroff came along. The two men there could see the dark outline of his anxious face as he lighted a vesta to aid him in seeing what was going on.

"Got away, I expect," he muttered. "A precious near thing, anyway. But if he is clear off the premises I may as well go this way myself."

So close did Mazaroff pass the other two that Lechmere could easily have touched him. His companion gave no sign, perhaps Lechmere's fingers playing about his throat warned him of the danger of anything of the kind. Mazaroff disappeared in the gloom, a door closed with a click, there was a muffled echo of retreating footsteps and then Lechmere's grim features relaxed into a smile. He jogged up his captive.

"Now we shall be able to get along," he said. "Will you be so good as to precede me, sir?"

"Do you know who I am?" the other man replied. "Because if you are not aware of my identity – "

"I am quite aware of your identity," Lechmere said coolly. "And I should do again what I am doing now if necessary. I daresay you regard the thing as a magnificent joke, but when you come to realise the enormous mischief that you have done, why – "

Lechmere shrugged his shoulders by way of completing his sentence. He pushed the other man along the corridor until he came to Maxgregor's rooms, where he hustled his prisoner inside. He stood winking and blinking there in the light, the very image of the king with his orders on his breast and his flame-coloured hair gleaming in the light. Shamefaced as he appeared, there was yet a kind of twinkle in his eyes.

"Behold your king," Lechmere said. "Behold the source of the trouble. Your majesty must find the heat very much in that wig. Let me remove it."

He coolly twitched the flame-coloured thatch away and disclosed a close crop of black hair. The queen threw up her hands with a gesture of amazement.

"Peretori," she cried. "Prince Peretori! So you are the cause of all the mischief. Will you be so good as to explain yourself?"

"There is no very great resemblance to the king, now that the wig is removed," Jessie whispered to Maxwell who stood beside her. "Do you know I rather like his face. Who is he?"

"Prince Peretori of Nassa, a second cousin of the King of Asturia," Maxwell explained. "There are many mad princes in Europe but none quite so mad as Peretori. He is not bad or wicked, he is simply utterly irresponsible. The great object in his life is the playing of practical jokes. Also he is a wonderfully fine actor – he would have made a great name on the stage. It is one of his boasts that he can make up to resemble anybody."

"He doesn't look like an enemy," Jessie said in the same low voice.

"He's not," Maxwell replied. "In fact Peretori is nobody's enemy but his own. I should not be in the least surprised to find that he had been made use of in this business."

"Why have you committed this crowning act of folly?" the queen asked coldly.

"Is it any worse than usual?" the prince asked. "My dear cousin, I did it for a wager. The price of my success was to be a thousand guineas. Now a thousand guineas to me at the present moment represents something like salvation. I am terribly hard up, I am painfully in debt. In this country those commercial brutal laws take no heed of station. I ignored certain civil processes with the result that a common tradesman can throw me into gaol at any moment for a debt that I simply cannot pay. That I am always ready for a joke you are aware. But a remunerative joke like this was not to be denied."

"Therefore you believe that you have won the bet from Countess Saens and Prince Mazaroff?" Lechmere asked. "Do they admit that you have won?"

"They do, my somewhat heavy-handed friend," the prince cried gaily. "Though how on earth you came to know that the countess and Mazaroff had any hand in the business – "

"We will come to that presently," Lechmere resumed. "You talked that matter over with the countess and Mazaroff and they gradually persuaded you to try this thing. You were to go to the editor of the Mercury and pass yourself off as the King of Asturia. You were to tell him all kinds of damaging things, and he was to believe you. If he believed you to be the king, you earned your money."

"Never was a sum of money gained more easily," Peretori cried.

"Yes, but at what a cost!" the queen said sternly. "Peretori, do you ever consider anything else but your own selfish amusements? Look at the harm you have done. Once the printed lie crosses the border into Asturia, what is to become of us all! Did you think of that? Can't you understand that all Europe will imagine that the king has resigned his throne? Desperate as things are, you have made then ten times worse."

Peretori looked blankly at the speaker. He was like a boy who had been detected in some offence and for the first time realized the seriousness of it.

"I give you my word that I never thought of that for a moment," he said. "It is one of my sins that I never think of anything where a jest is concerned. That smug little editor swallowed everything that I said in the most amusing fashion. I had won my money and I was free. My dear cousin, if there is anything that I can do – "

The queen shook her head mournfully. She was quite at a loss for the moment. Unless, perhaps, the tables could be turned in another way.

"You have been the dupe of two of our most unscrupulous enemies," the queen went on. "They are agents of Russia, and at the present moment their great task is to try and bring about the abdication of the King of Asturia. Once this is done, the path is fairly clear. To bring this about these people can use as much money as they please. They have been baffled once or twice lately, but when they found you they saw a good chance of doing our house a deadly harm. A thousand pounds, or fifty times that amount mattered little. How did they find you?"

"I have been in England six months," Peretori said. "I dropped my rank. There was an English girl I was very fond of. I was prepared to sacrifice everything so long as she became my wife. It doesn't matter how those people found me. The mischief is done."

"The mischief is almost beyond repair," Lechmere said. "But why did you come here? Why did you sit before the open windows in the next suite of rooms?"

"That was part of the plan, my dear sir," Peretori exclaimed. "Probably there was somebody watching who had to be convinced that I was the King of Asturia. I flatter myself that my make-up was so perfect that nobody could possibly – "

"Still harping on that string," the queen said reproachfully. "Why don't you try and realize that the great harm that you have done has to be repaired at any cost? With all your faults, you were never a traitor to your country. Are you going to take the blood-money, knowing what it means? I cannot believe that you have stooped so low as that."

The face of Peretori fell; a shamed look came into his eyes.

"I shall take it," he said. "I shall spoil the Egyptians. But at the same time, I can see a way to retrieve the mischief that I have done. It is not too late yet."

CHAPTER XXXV
A RACE FOR A THRONE

A silence fell on the little group for a time. All Peretori's gaiety had vanished. He looked very moody and thoughtful as he sat there turning recent events over in his mind. With all his faults, and they were many, he was an Asturian at heart. He was prepared to do a deal for the sake of his country. He had always promised himself that some day he would settle down and be a credit to his nationality. The career of mad jest must stop some time. It was impossible not to understand the mischief that he had just done. But there was a mobile and clever brain behind all this levity, and already Peretori began to see his way to a subtle and suitable revenge.

"Have those stolen papers anything to do with it?" he asked. "That Foreign Office business, you know?"

"They have everything to do with it," said Lechmere. "As a matter of fact, Countess Saens has had those papers stolen from her in turn. She cannot move very far without them. That she suspects where they have gone is evidenced by the fact that she put your highness up to your last escapade. The way she was tricked herself inspired her. If you can do anything to even matters up – "

"I will do more than that," Peretori cried. "I have thought of something. It is quite a good thing that the countess regards me as no better than a feather-headed fool. She will never guess that I have been here, she will never give you people credit for finding out what you have done. It was very clever of Mr. Lechmere to do so."

"Not at all," Lechmere muttered. "I have seen your smart impersonations before, and guessed at once who I had to look for. My finding you right here was a bit of luck. Will you be so good as to tell us what you propose doing?"

"I think not, if you don't mind," the prince replied. "I might fail, you see. But, late as it is, I am going to call upon Countess Saens. My excuse is that I have won my wager, and that it was a cash transaction. Has the queen a telephone in her private apartments at the hotel?"

The queen explained that the telephone was there as a matter of course. Peretori rose to his feet. "Then we had better adjourn this meeting for the present," he said. "It will be far more cautious and prudent for the queen to return to her hotel. You had better all go. Only somebody must be imported here to look after General Maxgregor, whose life is so valuable to Asturia."

Lechmere explained curtly that he would see to Maxgregor's safety, after which he would follow to the queen's hotel. With a nod and a smile, Peretori disappeared, after removing all traces of his make-up.

He was quite confident that he would be able to turn the tables on those who had made use of him in so sorry a way. The queen could make up her mind that she should hear from him before the night was over.

In a dazed, heavy way Jessie found herself in a handsome sitting room in the queen's hotel. She became conscious presently that Lechmere was back again, and that he was discussing events and recent details with the queen. Jessie wondered if these people ever knew what it was to be tired. Usually she was so utterly tired with her long day's work that she was in bed a little after ten o'clock, and it was past two now. She could hardly keep her eyes open. She sat up as the queen spoke to her.

"My poor dear child," she said quite tenderly, "you are half dead with fatigue. I must take care of you after all you have done for me. And you are going to bed without delay."

Jessie murmured that she was only too ready to do anything necessary. But the queen would not hear of it. Jessie must go to bed at once. The girl was too utterly tired to resist. In a walking dream she was led away; a neat handed maid appeared to be undressing her, there was a vision of a soft, luxurious bed, and then a dreamy delicious unconsciousness. The queen bent and kissed the sleeping face before she returned to the room where Lechmere awaited her.

"It is good to know that I have so many real friends," she said. "And they are none the less kind because I have no possible claim on them. You have arranged everything?"

"Thanks to the telephone, madame," Lechmere explained. "The rest I have managed by cable. The special train to Dover will be ready in half an hour; the special steamer awaits its arrival. The king will be in Asturia almost before that damning paragraph reaches there. If he goes soon."

"He should be back here by this time," the queen said with some anxiety in her voice. "Captain Alexis promised me – But somebody is coming up the stairs. Ah, here they are!"

The king came into the room followed by Captain Alexis. He seemed moody and depressed now. Probably the effects of the drug were passing off. He said sullenly that he was going to bed. The queen's face flushed with anger. She spoke clearly and to the point. She told him precisely what had happened. The king followed in a dull yet interested way.

"Am I never to have any peace?" he asked brokenly. "What is the use of being a king unless one – "

"Acts like a king," the queen said. "Have you not brought it all on yourself by your criminal folly? Were you not on the point of betraying us all? Now that is past. You are not going to bed, you are going to be up and doing. It is your part to show Europe that your enemies' plans are futile. You will be on the way to Asturia in half an hour, and Captain Alexis and this gentleman accompany you."

The king protested feebly; it was utterly impossible that this thing could be. But all his weak objections were thrust aside by the importunity of the queen.

"You are going," she said firmly. "All things are ready. It is a thousand pities that I cannot accompany you, but my place is in England for the next ten days. All has been done; even now your man is finishing the packing of your trunks. In half an hour the train starts for Dover. If you are bold and resolute now, the situation can be saved and Asturia with it."

The king protested no further. He sat with a dark, stubborn expression on his face. It seemed to him that he was no better than a prisoner being removed from one prison to another with two warders for company. Not that he had the slightest intention of going to Asturia, he told himself; it would be no fault of his if ever he set foot in his domains again. But all this he kept to himself.

The little party set off at length, to the unmistakable relief of the queen. She felt now that something was being done in the cause of home and freedom. Russia was not going to be allowed to have everything her own way. She paced up and down the room, a prey to her own painful thoughts.

"Is there anything more that I can do for you, madame?" Lechmere asked. "If there is, I pray that you command my services, which are altogether at your disposal."

"Perhaps you will wait a little?" the queen said. "I expect we shall hear from Peretori presently. What we have to do now is to recover those missing papers. It is maddening to think that they may be lying in the gutter at the present moment. If we dared advertise for them! Can't you think of some way? You are so quick and clever and full of resource."

Lechmere shook his head. Perhaps he might think of some cunning scheme when he had the time, but for the present he could not see his way at all. To advertise would be exceeding dangerous. Any move in that direction would be pretty sure to attract the attention of the enemy.

"The enemy is sufficiently alert as it is," Lechmere pointed out. "There is Countess Saens, for instance, who has a pretty shrewd idea already of the trick that has been played upon her. If she had no suspicion, she would not have gone to Charing Cross Hospital to-night. And your majesty must see that, at all hazards, she must be prevented from going there in the morning. That scandal must be avoided. It would be a thousand pities if Miss Galloway or Miss Harcourt – "

"I see, I see," the queen cried as she paced restlessly up and down the room. "In this matter cannot you get Prince Peretori to give you a hand? There is a fine fertility of resources in that brilliant brain of his. And I am sure that when he left here to-night he had some scheme – "

The tinkle of the telephone bell cut off further discussion. At a sign from the queen Lechmere took down the receiver and placed it to his ear. Very gently he asked who was there. The reply was in a whisper that it could hardly be heard by the listener, but all the same, he did not fail to recognize the voice of Prince Peretori.

"It is I – Lechmere," he said. "You can speak quite freely. Have you done anything?"

"I have done a great deal," came the response. "Only I want assistance. Come round here and creep into the house and go into the little sitting-room on the left side of the door. All the servants have gone to bed, so you will be safe. Sit in the dark and wait for the signal. The front door is not fastened. Can I count upon you? Right! So."

The voice ceased, there was a click of the telephone, and the connection was cut off.

CHAPTER XXXVI
ANNETTE TELLS A STORY

Prince Peretori was a by no means unpopular figure with those who knew him both personally and by reputation. He had in him that strain of wild blood that seems peculiar to all the Balkan peninsula, where so many extravagant things are done. In bygone days Peretori would have been a romantic figure. As it was, Western civilization had gone far to spoil his character. Audacious deeds and elaborate practical jokes filled up the measure of his spare time. For some months under a pseudonym he was a prominent figure at a Vienna theatre. It was only when his identity became threatened that he had to abandon his latest fad.

But he was feeling deeply chagrined and mortified over his last escapade. It never occurred to him at the time that he was doing any real harm. The King of Asturia, his cousin, he had always disliked and despised; for the king he had the highest admiration. And it looked as if he had done the latter an incalculable injury.

That he had been touched on the raw of his vanity and made the catspaw of others added fuel to his wrath. It would be no fault of his if he did not get even the Countess Saens. He would take that money and pretend that he enjoyed the joke. But it was going to be a costly business for Countess Saens and her ally Prince Mazaroff.

Peretori had pretty well made up his mind what line to take by the time he had reached the house of the countess. The place was all in darkness, as if everybody had retired for the night; but Peretori had his own reasons for believing that the countess had not returned home. If necessary he would wait on the doorstep for her.

But perhaps the door was not fastened? With spies about, the countess might feel inclined to keep the house in darkness. As a matter of fact the door was not fastened, and Peretori slipped quietly into the hall. He had no fear of being discovered, if he were discovered he had only to say that he had come back for the reward of his latest exploit. To the countess he had made no secret of the desperate nature of his pecuniary affairs.

The house seemed absolutely at rest, there could be no doubt that the servants had all gone to bed. Peretori stood in the hall a little undecided what to do next. His sharp ears were listening intently. It seemed to him presently that he could hear the sound of somebody laughing in a subdued kind of way. As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, a thread of light from under a distant door crossed his line of vision. Then there was the smothered explosion that was unmistakably made by a champagne cork.

Peretori crept along to the door under which the track of light peeped. The door was pulled to, but the latch had not caught. Very quietly Peretori pushed the door back so that he could look in. It was more or less as he had expected. Seated at a table where a dainty supper had been laid out was a man who had the unmistakable hall-mark of a gentleman's servant written all over him. On the other side of the table sat the countess's maid Annette.

"Another glass," the maid was saying. "It is a brand of the best. Nothing comes into this house but the best, ma foi! And no questions asked where things go to. So help yourself, mon Robert! There is no chance of being interrupted."

The man sat there grinning uneasily. There was no conspirator here, Peretori decided. The man was no more than a shrewd cockney servant – none too honest over trifles, perhaps, but he was not the class of man that political conspirators are made of. It was a romance of the kitchen on Robert's side.

"Bit risky, ain't it?" he said as he pulled at his champagne. "If your mistress catches us – "

"There is no fear of that, Robert. She is in bed sound asleep long ago. Nothing wakes or disturbs her. She undressed herself to-night; she dispensed with my services. Oh, a good thing!"

"But risky sometimes, eh?" Robert said. "Lor, the trouble that some of 'em give!"

"Oh, they have no heart, no feeling. It is slave, slave, slave! But we make them pay for it. I make her pay for it. And when I am ready to go back to Switzerland, I know that I have not worked in vain. And she called me a liar and a thief to-night."

Robert muttered something sympathetic. He had no wish for Annette to go back to Switzerland, he said. He had saved a little also. Did not Annette think that a respectable boarding house or something select in the licensed victualling line might do? The girl smiled coquettishly.

"And perhaps something better," she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. "I am not dishonest, I do no more than other ladies in my position. Not that the perquisites are not handsome. But sometimes one has great good luck. She call me thief and liar to-night; she say I not tell the truth when I say she was robbed to-night. I show her the real thief, and still she is doubtful. The real thief took those papers. Mind you, they were papers of great value. That is certain. Suppose those papers came into my possession! Suppose I read them, and find them immense importance! Suppose that they don't belong to the countess at all, that she has got them by a trick!"

Peretori listened eagerly. Now that he was au fait of the situation, he knew exactly what Annette was talking about. He blessed his stars that he had come here to-night. Without doubt Annette was talking of the papers missing from the Foreign Office.

"Sounds good," Robert said. "Worth fifty or sixty pounds to somebody else perhaps."

"Worth ten thousand pounds!" Annette went on in the same fierce whisper. "That money with what we have saved, eh? We could take a boarding house in Mount Street and make a fortune, you and I, my Robert. Look you, these papers vanish, they are taken by a lady in a black dress. My mistress she say the lady meet with an accident and is taken to a hospital. The police come in and ask questions —ma foi! they ask questions till my head ache. Then they go away again, and my mistress leave the house again. My head ache so that I go and walk up and down the pavement to get a breath of air."

"Sounds like a scene in a play," Robert said encouragingly. "Go on, ducky!"

"As I stood there a policeman come up to me. I know that policeman; he is young to his work – he admires me. You need not look so jealous, my Robert, it is not the police where my eyes go. But he has heard of the robbery. Not that he knows its importance – no, no! He can tell all about the lady in Piccadilly who was run over. And behold he has picked up a packet of papers!"

"Good business!" Robert exclaimed. "You're something like a story-teller, Annette."

"That packet of papers he show me," Annette went on gaily. "There is an elastic band round them, and under the band an envelope with the crest of the countess upon it. Those papers were to be give up to Scotland Yard, mark you. But not if Annette knows anything about her man. Behold in a few minutes those papers are in my pocket. It is a smile, a little kiss, and the thing is done! Frown not, Robert, I have no use for that soft young policeman."

"You're a jolly deep one, that's what you are," Robert said with profound admiration. "I should like to know what those papers are all about. I suppose you've read 'em?"

"No; they are in French, the French used by the educated classes. The language is very different to my Swiss. But I have a friend who will be able to tell me what they are all about. Meanwhile, the papers are carefully hidden away where they cannot be found. My policeman, he dare not speak; even if he did, I could say that the papers were rubbish which I had thrown away. But the countess she call me a liar and a thief. She shall never see them again. What's that?"

A sudden violent ringing of the front door bell startled the supper party and the listener in the hall. Robert rose and grabbed his hat as if prepared for flight.

"No, no!" the fertile Annette whispered. "Don't go. I'll reply to that bell. It is easy to say that I have not gone to bed, and that I came down. Stay where you are. You are quite safe. It may be a cablegram, they sometimes come quite late at night. Just turn down the light."

Peretori stepped into one of the darkened rooms and awaited events. He saw Annette come into the hall and flick up the glaring electrics. In her usual demure way she opened the front door and confronted a fussy little man who stood on the step.

"Your mistress," he said hurriedly. "Your mistress. I must see her at once – at once!"

"But my mistress has gone to bed," Annette protested. "She is asleep for some time, and – "

"Then you must wake her up," the little man said. "At once. It is no use to make a fuss, my good girl, I am bound to see the countess. Tell her that Mr. Hunt is here – Mr. Hunt of the Mercury, whose business will not brook delay."