The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

"La! Monsieur," she exclaimed breathlessly as they drew apart. "I had no idea that any man other than a Russian could make so bold with a woman on so short an acquaintance."

"Nor I," he countered, "that any woman not of French blood had the temperament to lend her lips so well to a first kiss."

She smiled at him. "Then you have never visited my country, Monsieur. Russian men have no opinion of a woman who pretends to get the vapours at a peck."

"'Tis most fitting that our countries should now be allies, then, for our minds on that are of a kind." As he spoke he threw his right arm round her waist and gave her another, even longer, kiss.

"Enough!" she gasped. "Enough! And now, Monsieur; having got me out here what is it your intention to do with me?"

"Were it high summer I could suggest a score of things," he said lightly, "but I fear for you the chill of the night air in that thin dress. Having separated you from the Count my first objective is achieved; so I can but take you indoors again by another route, and hope to find a secluded corner where I can tell you how ravishing I find you."

She shrugged. "I vow you say that to every woman that you meet."

"Nay, Madame. Only to those who make my heart beat faster, and if you have a single doubt that you do that, I pray you give me your hand that I may place it on my pulse."

"Maybe I'll apply the test on some other occasion," she laughed. "But you are right about it being too cold to dally here to-night. Take me within and you shall tell me all about yourself..".

With their arms round one another's waists they strolled along the terrace, and reaching some shrubberies at the side of the house em­braced again in their deep shadow. For a few moments she let him caress her then, with an eel-like movement wriggled away, exclaiming: "Nay, nayl 'Tis not the time or place for such familiarities. Nor am I the woman to permit them."

Her last statement was so much at variance with her first that Roger had difficulty in preventing himself from laughing; but the darkness enabled him to conceal his amusement. The slim Russian's temporary complaisance had given ample promise that she held fire enough to melt one of her native icebergs, and he was well content to have made such swift progress with her. So soothing her pretended indignation with appropriate phrases of contrition he led her back into the house by a side door.

The salon on the right of the grand staircase had also been turned into a refreshment room, so they had a glass of champagne and a helping of lobster mousse apiece there, then carried two more glasses of wine through to a conservatory that lay beyond it.

Immediately they had settled themselves she began to catechise him with a directness that some men might have found embarrassing; but Roger did not mind it in the least. He had played the part of Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc so long in France that he could give all that suited him of that gentleman's fictitious history as easily as he could of his own; and he found a peculiar delight in watching the varied emotions aroused by his answers chase each other across his companion's exceptionally expressive face. Moreover, when she at length began to hesitate over fresh questions to put to him he was able, without impertinence, to catechise her with equal thoroughness.

It emerged that she was the only daughter of Count Razumofsky; that she had lost her mother at the age of ten, and married Baron Stroganof when she was twenty. The Baron's father had been the Empress's Chamberlain during the brief reign of her husband, Peter III, and also, for a short time, her lover. The Baron himself had been one of General Suvarof's aides-de-camp and with him in the Russian-held fortress of Kimburne, on the Black Sea when, in the previous year, five thousand Turks crossed the river from the neighbouring town of Otchakof and attempted to take the Russian garrison by surprise. The plan had miscarried and the Russians, sallying out, had driven the Turks back to their boats; many of which had been sunk by cannon balls and others, during the ensuing confusion, gone aground on mud-banks. An appalling massacre had ensued, for General Suvarof, with ruthless brutality, had refused the Turks quarter; but he was seriously wounded himself, and the young Baron had died on the field from the stroke of a Turkish scimitar.

Natalia Andreovna had then left St. Petersburg to act as hostess for her father in the Embassy at Stockholm. She had one child, a daughter, now four years old; but she did not like children, and had left her own in Russia to be brought up on her late husband's estate near Vologda, by one of his aunts. She was very rich, owning in her own right over twelve thousand serfs; and was, she declared, enjoying her freedom too much to contemplate marrying again for a long time to come. In fact, fear that the Empress, whose word was law, might marry her off to one of her own ex-lovers whom she wished to enrich had been Natalia Andreovna's principal reason for settling in Stockholm; since she nrach preferred life at the Russian court, and despised the Swedes as a soft, cold-blooded, degenerate people.

They had got thus far when Roger heard a rustling of the palms behind him and turned to see that Count Yagerhorn had invaded their corner of the conservatory. The tall fair-haired man was standing there glaring at him, his fresh-complexioned face flushed and his pale blue eyes positively popping with anger.

Roger could be more coldly insolent than most people when he chose, and as he was perfectly prepared to fight, he decided to make the most of the situation in order to impress Natalia. Not yet having been introduced to the Count he was not strictly called upon to stand up; so' after eyeing him through his quizzing-glass from head to foot he turned his back and lolled again lazily in his chair.

"Madame, your pardon!" said the Count in a voice half-choked with rage. "Monsieur, I require a word with you."

Turning again Roger got slowly to his feet, and murmured: "Are you addressing me, Monsieur? I don't recall you as a person of my acquaintance."

Natalia Andreovna's voice came from behind him. "Messieurs, allow me to introduce you. Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc—Count Erik Yagerhorn." Then she went on with a hint of amusement in her tone. "You seem annoyed about something, Erik. Mayhap 'tis because I shut you out of the library; but 'tis you who were at fault for leaving me in order to talk with Colonel Fricke."

" 'Twas but for a moment; and I had your permission to do so," the Count protested quickly. "I can scarce believe that you deliberately chose to compromise yourself by locking that door, and. . . ."

"What!" snapped Roger. "You dare to cast doubt upon this lady's word?"

The Count went as red as a lobster. "That is between her and me. My quarrel with you, Monsieur, is that you have deprived me of her company; and I demand an explanation."

Roger shrugged. "The time and place are ill-chosen. But I am lying at the Vasa Inn. Send your- friends to me there at whatever hour you choose after dawn and nothing would please me better than to take a walk with you."

"Erik! You will do nothing of the kind," said Natalia Andreovna sharply. "I forbid you to fight with Monsieur le Chevalier."

"But, Madame ..." he began in protest..

"You heard what I said," she interrupted him. "Later, an it so please me, I'll afford you an opportunity to settle your difference with Monsieur de Breuc. But for the time being I'll not have you risk a wound that may place you hors de combat."

To Roger's surprise the Count calmed down at once. He even smiled as he said: "Later then, Madame. I shall take that as a promise," and, having made a formal bow, he walked away.

The more Roger thought about it the more extraordinary this de­nouement of the affair appeared. He had often known cases in which women had intervened to stop a duel, from a natural desire to prevent two men whom they liked or respected injuring one another, but apparently Natalia Andreovna had not been moved by any such humane motive. She had as good as said that she would have not the least objection to their slitting one another's throats at some later date, but that it did not suit her that they should do so for the present. Her attitude could be explained by the opinion he had already formed, that she was a hard-hearted, bloodthirsty little piece; but what puzzled him more was that she should have the power to make any man take a step so compromising to his honour as to withdraw a challenge, at her bare order.

"I hardly know," he said, after a moment, "if I should thank you for having ensured my keeping a whole skin for a week or two, or reproach you with having deprived me of the chance of bringing you a handkerchief dipped in Count Yagerhorn's blood tomorrow. But I pray you satisfy my curiosity as to why he should have instantly withdrawn his challenge at your bidding?"

She shrugged. " 'Tis one of the prerogatives of royalty to forbid a duel.",

Seeing his puzzled look she smiled, and went on. "Surely you realise that 'tis not the unhappy woman upstairs but myself who is the real Queen of Sweden."

"In beauty, without question," he said gallantly.

"Ah, and in power, too." Her voice took on a haughty note, and her green eyes harrowed. "There is not a Finnish noble in the land, and scarce a Swede, who would dare to disregard my wishes. How think you it comes about, otherwise, that we have been sitting here for over an hour, yet not one of the men to whom I promised a dance after midnight has had the temerity to claim me?"

"I had wondered at my good fortune in retaining you so long," remarked Roger, still considerably mystified.

She shrugged again. "With your back to the passageway between the palms you would not have noticed the people who have passed or approached us. Had Erik Yagerhorn not been a special pet of mine he would never have had the self-assurance to break in upon us in the way he did. But half-a-dozen others have discovered us here, .and one glance from me has been enough to inform them that I did not wish our tete-a-teteinterrupted, so they have withdrawn discreetly without a word."

Roger bowed. "Then, fairest of Queens, I am more favoured than I knew, and humbly thank you for it. Yet I am still at a loss to appre­hend whence comes your Royal status."

Her dark, tapering eyebrows lifted in surprise. "La! Monsieur! Even your having landed in Sweden but this morning is hardly excuse enough for such ignorance. Have I not told you that I am the daughter of the Russian Ambassador?"

This sounded to Roger as if the girl was suffering from la folie des grandeurs; yet he could not help but be impressed by the deference that her partners had shown in taking a mere glance as an order not to disturb her, and he felt that if he led her on there might be something worth knowing at the bottom of her strange pretensions, so he said with a smile: "Forgive me, your Majesty; but I still fail to understand why your father should consider himself as of more import­ance than—er—let us say, Monsieur de Pons, or yourself than Madame la Marquise?"

"Then you are more stupid than I thought, Monsieur. The Empress Catherine being the greatest sovereign in the world, it follows that her Imperial Majesty's representatives are regarded as the equals of Prime Ministers, wherever they may be, and of a rank hardly less than those Sovereigns to whose courts they are accredited."

'"Tis not so in France, England or Holland," Roger averred. "Nor in any country in Southern Europe, as far as I am aware."

Natalia Andreovna's green eyes went a little sullen, but she said stubbornly: "Well, 'tis so in the North. When my uncle, Count Stackelberg, was Ambassador at Warsaw, he always treated the Polish King, Stanislas Augustus, as an inferior and would not even stand up when he came into the room. Here too, although my father shows King Gustavus a reasonable politeness, he stands no nonsense from him; and does not hesitate to hammer the King's table with his fist when he is presenting a demand on behalf of her Imperial Majesty."

"You intrigue me greatly, Madame; but I must confess my surprise that King Gustavus should submit to such treatment. If I were he I should be tempted to send your father home."

"No doubt he would like to, but he dare not," she sneered. "And 'tis clear you know little of Swedish politics to suggest it."

"I know nothing," Roger admitted, "and would be grateful for enlightenment."

"You will know at least that for the half-century preceding Gustavus's ascension of the throne, the Kings of Sweden were but puppets, entirely under the control of an oligarchy; and that in 1772, just a year after he became King, he carried out a coup d'etatby which he put a curb- upon their power and became in theory an autocratic monarch?"

"Yes, I have heard tell of that swift and bloodless revolution. For a young Prince of twenty-six, he appears to have carried it through with remarkable skill and resolution; but I thought that he had made himself abolute in fact."

She shook her head. "He has all the appearance of a despot with­out the actual power. His mistake lay in the new Constitution he gave Sweden, which he wrote himself. He gave his pledge that he would never alter it, and although, by it, he reassumed many of the prero­gatives of the ancient monarchy, he also bound himself not to do cer­tain things without the consent of his Riksdag. For example, he not only allowed them to retain the purse-strings of the nation but solemnly undertook not to engage in an offensive war without their agreement. To Russia the knowledge that her north-west frontier cannot be attack­ed without the consent of the Swedish parliament is worth an Army Corps."

"You mean because the obtaining of such an assent would give her ample warning of Sweden's hostile intentions?"

"Not only that. Russia controls the Riksdagand so could ensure its veto."

"How so, Madame?"

"You will have heard of the Caps and the Hats?" "They were the two great political parties of Sweden, were they not? But I had thought that King Gustavus abolished both on his seizure of power."

"He forbade the use of the terms, but the parties still exist. The nicknames arose, I am told, from Old Count Horn, who was Prime Minister of Sweden some sixty years ago, being dubbed a 'Night-cap' from' the sleepy, unambitious policy that he pursued. His opponents, a group of vigorous, warlike young nobles, then adopted the soubriquet'Hats' from the tricornes that they wore. In due course the Hats got the upper hand, and financed by France, made war on Russia. The war proved disastrous for Sweden and gradually the power of the Hats declined. In the meantime Russia had begun to finance the nobles of the Cap party in secret and they in turn came to power. The pendulum has oscillated a little since; but the Caps still take their orders from Petersburg, and the leading Hats are still the pensioners of France. And France, having in recent years become Russia's ally, no longer disputes her policies in the Baltic, but instructs her Swedish bondmen to dance to Russia's tune. So you see now why nine-tenths of the Swedish nobility look, not to their King, but to my father, as their suzerain."

Roger "saw" in no unmistakable fashion, and was appalled to learn that Sweden, the only possible bulwark in the north of the new Triple Alliance, was so riddled with venal treachery.

Without waiting for an answer Natalia Andxeovna added: "As for the Finns, they have long been bitterly resentful of Swedish despot­ism. In the event of war, Gustavus would find himself hard put to it to prevent his Finnish levies from going over to Russia, and offering to liberate their country in order that they might lay it at the feet of the Empress. Therefore, whatever ambitions Gustavus may cherish in secret, he can do little to further them at the expense of Russia, unless he is prepared to defy his Riksdag and jeopardise his crown."

It was just such intelligence of the way the Russians saw things, garnered from the highest sources, that Mr. Pitt had foreseen that Roger, in his character of a well-bred, wealthy, young idler, might be able to pick up; and as Natalia Andreovna clearly knew what she was talking about he would have liked to continue the conversation for much longer. But, rising to her feet and shaking out her wide, star-spangled skirts, she said with a smile: "And now, Monsieur, for one evening I have given you a more than fair measure of my time; so you may take me back to the ballroom, that I may dance with a few of my beaux before I go home."

Roger was too tactful to seek to detain her; but, as he escorted her upstairs he pressed her to give him an early opportunity of seeing her again, and she said that he might present himself at her salonon Thursday evening. They had hardly reached the ballroom before half-a-dozen men came up and formed a little court round her, so with one last, meaning look straight into her green eyes, he bowed himself away.

It was now past two o'clock. Queen Sophia Magdalena had already left and many of the older guests were leaving. As the party no longer held any interest for Roger he decided to go too, and, having made his adieu to his pretty hostess, he went downstairs again and had his hired coach called up to the door.

As it rumbled back towards the city he felt that he had ample cause to congratulate himself on the fruits of his first night in Sweden. In it he had accomplished more than during the whole of the fifteen days he had spent in Denmark; as the good relations he had established with the French Ambassador's wife and the Russian Ambassador's daughter could not possibly have been bettered for his purpose.

He smiled to himself a little as he thought of the familiarities he had so boldly taken with Natalia, and wondered if he would have dared to do so had he then known that she was regarded as a semi-royalty. All unknowing he had taken a big risk, for had she been of a different temperament she might have held it against him and seriously queered his pitch, but it seemed that he could hardly have played his cards better.

She had not the faintest resemblance to any other girl that he had ever met, and he could not make up his mind if he liked her or not'. She had a great opinion of herself, but not without reason, as she was unusually intelligent as well as beautiful in a strange way that was all her own. He recalled the Marquise's warning that the slim, green-eyed Russian was reputed to have a most malicious sense of humour, and his own experience of her led him to believe that when her passions were aroused she would prove extremely vicious; but he knew that he was already strongly attracted, and decided that it was, perhaps, just as well that his inclination coincided with his duty, since it was so clearly in the interests of his mission to develop his budding affaire with her.

The whole of the next day he spent in exploring the city and enter­ing into conversation with everyone with whom he came in contact; and the opinions of the townsfolk gave him cause to moderate the view that Natalia Andreovna had given him of King Gustavus, as a monarch with little real power or prestige.

He gathered that before Gustavus's reign Sweden had been reduced to abject poverty by the misrule of several generations of rapacious nobles who had preyed upon her mercilessly; whereas, during the past sixteen years the King had brought her people both freedom and prosperity. With the aid of the banker Liljencrantz he had straightened out the appalling mess in which he found the country's finances; and with the aid of the jurist Liliestrale he had. restored both justice and the dignity of the church. He had himself impeached the two Supreme Courts before the Senate, disbenched five of the eight judges, and dismissed scores of lesser magistrates convicted of taking bribes. He had redistributed the clergy's livings and compelled the venal priests among them to live in their parishes and serve their parishioners, instead of taking their fees for doing nothing. He had reorganised the army, abolished the sale of commissions, and made merit the only road to promotion.

The latter step was one of the causes of the hostility with which the nobles regarded him, but their main grievance was that, having robbed their Estate of much of its former power, they could no longer sell their votes on domestic matters to the highest bidder, which venality had previously been one of their main sources of income.

The King, it emerged, was a great lover of the spectacular and also of the theatre. Some people resented the large sums he spent on display, and his purchase of a magnificent collection of art treasures from all parts of Europe; but most were of the opinion that the former was compensated for by the resulting free entertainments and that the latter redounded to the glory of their country.

The only matter in which Gustavus had seriously jeopardised his popularity with the masses was in the taxation of spirits. Formerly it had been an age-old right for everyone to distil whatever they required for their own consumption, and the bare idea of taxing liquor raised a most frightful outcry. Troops had to be employed to collect the tax, and, on even this proving ineffective, the King had sought to turn the manufacture into a royal monopoly by ordering the destruction of all private stills and erecting large distilleries of his own. Riots had ensued, and the indignant mob burnt down several of the royal distilleries, so the King had endeavoured to sell the monopoly to the Government, but without success, and the struggle still continued.

Apart from this grievance, Roger formed the opinion that the great mass of the people was solidly behind their King. Moreover, they both hated and feared the Russians, and since they still regarded the Baltic provinces as the rightful property of the Swedish crown, were quite prepared to support Gustavus in a war aimed at retrieving this portion of their old empire.

Next morning Roger drove out to the French Embassy, and at breakfast there was introduced by the Ambassador to several gentle­men, most of whom were Swedes. Among them was Count Hans Axel af Fersan, a great Francophile, who openly avowed that when he had been a visitor at the Court of Versailles he had fallen in love with Queen Marie Antoinette. He and Roger took an immediate liking to one another and on Roger's side, although he was in no situation to acknowledge it, the bond was strengthened by the discovery that they were both partially of Scots descent; since his mother had been a McElfic and the daughter of the Eail of Kildonan, while the af Fersans were a branch of the Macpherson clan which had settled in Sweden many years before.

The name of Count Axel af Fersan was already known to Roger, from his talks with various people on the previous day, as that of a prominent Swedish statesman who was the leader of the Hat party and one of the King's most bitter opponents in the Riksdag; but he felt that his new acquaintance could hardly be old enough to have played a leading part in Swedish politics for any length of time, and on his tactful inquiry the Count burst out laughing.

"Nay, nay, my friend!" he declared with a shake of his head. "You are confusing me with my revered senior Count Fredrik, who was already a great figure in Sweden before I was born. And, being of a j younger generation, I do not share the prejudices against the King which still rankle among the older nobility. In fact I think that many of the reforms he has introduced were long overdue, and in some ways I have a considerable admiration for him."

Roger smiled. "I notice, Count, that you qualify your last state­ment. Would it be indiscreet to inquire the traits that you admire in him and those you do not?"

"Since he has given us a free press and the right of free speech I will do so willingly," Count Hans smiled back. "Being a normal man myself, to whom the vices of the Greeks have never made any appeal, I regard his private life as most unsavoury; and his character leaves much to be desired. Mayhap 'tis due to the manner in which he was brought up, with his person surrounded by people whom he could only regard as spies and enemies, that is to blame; but he is so secretive and deceitful that it would be difficult to find his equal as a liar. On the other hand he is a man of great attainments, high courage and prodig­ious brain. As a lad he was extraordinarily precocious, with a vivid imagination and most retentive memory. He had only to see a play to absorb the whole content of it; and his attendants declare that on dressing the following day he would solemnly declaim the longest speeches to which he had listened, without fault. Before he was twenty-five he had read every important book of which French literature can boast, and among others, acquired a mastery of the barbarous ^ Swedish tongue. He was- the first monarch capable of addressing his people in their own language that we have had for generations; and, even in the age when oratory has again become a great art, he is among the finest orators in all Europe. He is an arch-plotter but capable, resolute and brave. His greatest merit, to my mind, is his intense love of his country, and 'tis that which attaches me to him more than anything else."

To Roger's annoyance their host interrupted the conversation at that moment to inquire as to the length of his stay in Sweden. He returned an evasive answer, and then became involved in general talk; as several of the gentlemen present, including Count Hans, asked him to call upon them and offered to show him some of the beauties of their country.

When he was about to leave, the black-clad major-domo came up to him and said that Madame la Marquise hoped that his engage­ments were not so pressing that he would fail to wait upon her in her boudoir before returning to the city; so he willingly allowed himself to be conducted upstairs.

During his short stay in Sweden Roger had already been struck with the individuality of the house furniture. It was nearly all of natural unpolished wood or else painted white and decorated with scrolls of flowers in the gayest colours; but Madame de Pons' boudoir was a little oasis of Versailles set down in this far-northern country. Its cabinets, chairs and occasional tables, were of highly polished and elaborately inlaid satin-wood, a Buhl clock adorned the mantel and pictures by Boucher and Fragonard hung in the satin-covered panels of the walls. It was the perfect setting for its elegant owner.

She made Roger sit down and tell her all about himself, then she discoursed a little plaintively on the hard lot of a diplomat's wife, separated for years on end from her family and friends. Roger learned that her name was Angelique, which he thought very pretty; and that before coming to Sweden she and her husband had been stationed in Berlin. She greatly preferred Stockholm to the Prussian capital, as there were many more entertainments at King Gustavus's court than there had been at that of the mean, cantankerous Frederick the Great, who had ruled from his bleak, barrack-like town of Potsdam until his death twenty-one months ago. But, even so, she hankered sadly after the super-civilised delights of her own country.

Roger sought to console her and by gentle stages introduced a flirtatious note into his conversation; then he moved swiftly over to the tapestry-covered sofa on which she sat, took her hand, and lightly kissed her cheek.

She let her hand remain in his but drew her head away with a laugh. "You silly boy. What made you think I wanted you to do that?"

" 'Twas mere selfishness," he declared. "And for my own gratification. You are the most charming person in all Sweden and my thoughts have been full of you ever since we danced together."

"Then you had best find some other image to enshrine in your mind; for I warn you that you will derive little profit from thinking of me other than as a friend."

"I'll not believe it," he cried, pressing his attack; but she pushed him firmly from her and said seriously.

"I mean it, Monsieur. Your ardour is a charming compliment, but if you were older you would realise that appearances are often deceptive. I hope I do not look it, but I am near old enough to be your mother."

"Nay, 'tis impossible," Roger protested. "I'll vow you're not a day over twenty-six."

"I am thirty-one,""she told him with a little grimace.

"Well, what of it? 'Tis truly said that a woman is as old as she looks and a man is as old as he feels. I rate you as twenty-six and, if you'll let me, I'll show you that I have as much experience as most men of thirty."

"You delightful child," she rallied him. "If I were ten years younger I'd be tempted to make trial of you; but the question of age apart; I, like the Queen, feel that any woman who holds a public position owes it to France to set a standard; so I am faithful to my husband."

Roger felt certain from her tone and glance that she was not seek­ing to set a higher value on surrendering to him later, but really meant what she said; and as deliberate virtue was so rarely to be found in a woman of her class at that time, he admired her for it.

After a moment he said: "I would that you were ten years younger, then; or at least not the wife of France's representative. But from what you say Queen Sophia Magdalena must be a puritan indeed, for if any woman had good cause to take a lover, it seems, from what I hear, that 'tis she."

"Nay, I was speaking of Queen Marie Antoinette," replied the Marquise quickly. "As for the other, her case is very different; and from my heart I pity any woman who is forced to take a lover against her will."

."What mean you, Madame!" exclaimed Roger in surprise.

Angelique de Pons' blue eyes were grave as she said: "Since you appear not to know her situation 'tis well that I should put you au faitwith it; for knowledge of it may prevent you from making some unfortunate faux paswhen in Swedish society. There is good reason to suppose that King Gustavus has never co-habited with his Queen."

"I had heard that he was no constant votary to the goddess Venus," Roger remarked, "but had supposed. . . . Surely you do not mean that the young Crown Prince, and the Queen's little daughter, born more recently. . . ?"

The Marquise shrugged her plump shoulders. "Alas, 'tis the fact. Quite soon after their marriage Gustavus endeavoured to persuade his wretched bride to take one of his friends as a lover, in order that she might provide him with an heir; but he met with a most indignant refusal. He ceased then from his vile proposals and for eleven years they lived apart. But it seems that a time came when he realised that if he allowed many more years to pass she might not be able to give him an heir at all, and he again attempted to persuade her to take a lover. She still resisted but, finding that her scruples were mainly of a religious nature, he finally gained her consent to an arrangement whereby he divorced her in secret and with equal secrecy she was remarried to his friend Major Muncke."

"Then the heir to the Swedish throne has no legal title to it."

"None; but there is every reason to suppose that he will succeed; since Gustavus disguised the whole affair from the common people with his usual cunning. Everyone knew that he and his Queen had been estranged for many years, so he stage-managed a grand recon­ciliation in '77, the year before the Crown Prince was born. But all the nobility saw through the imposture and the old Dowager-Queen, Louisa Ulrica, publicly refused to acknowledge the child as her grand-son.

"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 Riksdagto 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.

When they had settled themselves she exchanged greetings with several people in the nearby boxes and waved her fan to some of the young gallants in the pit, meanwhile keeping Roger amused with a running commentary on who they were and their idiosyncrasies. As befitted the Russian Ambassador's power in the land, he retained the permanent use of a box in the first tier next to the Royal box. The latter was so far empty and Roger, knowing the King's partiality to the theatre and that this was a first night, asked his companion if she thought it likely that his Majesty would attend the performance.

She shook her head. "Nay, he still dallies at Karlskrona."

Recalling that the King had been expected back in Stockholm for the party at the French Embassy four nights before, Roger inquired: "What is it that detains him there?"

"I would that we knew for certain," she replied, thoughtfully. "He is said to be inspecting his fleet, but certain intelligence suggests that he may be supervising its preparations for putting to sea."

Roger pricked up his ears. "Is Karlskrona his principal fleet base, then?"

"Why, yes. 'Tis the largest harbour and naval arsenal in the world."

"Oh, come!" he protested. "Surely 'tis not bigger than Toulon, or the great new base that King Louis is constructing at Cherbourg?"

"Indeed it is," she assured him. "And virtually impregnable; for 'tis situated in the heart of a great island of rock that can only be reached from the mainland by way of two other islands. The Swedes have been working on it for many years, constructing the most ingen­ious hydraulic works, and hewing dry-docks, underground canals and storehouses out of the solid mountain side. The port itself is very deep and capable of holding a hundred ships of the line."

"King Gustavus can have nothing near that number."

"True, but for the past six years he has been building at the rate of four a year, and there are now thirty-seven ships of the line lying there, as well as numerous frigates. Then there must be others at Trollhatta and Sveaborg; so he now has a fleet quite formidable enough to cause Russia considerable anxiety in the Baltic."

"Do you fear then that he contemplates an attack against your country?"

Her tapering eyebrows drew together in a frown. " 'Tis hard to say. We know that he has been receiving subsidies from the Turks, and it may be he feels that he should at least make some demonstration to justify them. Yet I cannot believe that he would be such a pre-sumptious fool as to defy the Empress. 'Twould be suicidal to invite a revolution in his own country with Russia, Austria and France all leagued against him."

The lights had been put out, and at that moment, the curtain went up. Roger drew his chair up beside Natalia's and a little behind it, and took her hand; then, after they had watched the scene for a while he began to whisper in her ear. The Grand Opera season was over, so only a light musical with no great stars appearing in it was being played; and the plot was of such an airy nature that they could almost ignore the stage without losing its thread.

Knowing that much as most women enjoyed a need of flattery, the majority greatly preferred a man who could make them laugh, to one who confined himself to solemnly praising their beauty, he ventured on a slightly risquejoke. Natalia's quiet chuckle showed him that he was on the right track, and soon they were swopping stories which, had the lights been up, should have made even a young widow blush.

During the long interval she received a little court of callers in the box, and most of them did not hide the fact that they envied Roger his good fortune in being her escort for the evening. When they had retired he drew his chair up to hers once more, but he bided his time until half-way through the second act before giving their conversation a serious turn and begging her to give him a proper assignation. For a time she listened to his pleading in silence, then she said: " 'Twould be idle for me to pretend a virtue in which, after our first meeting, you would not believe; and I'll not deny that I have had a number of lovers; but I am mightily particular as to the men I choose for such a role. 'Tis, in fact, my custom to test such gallants as attract me both for their courage and sensibility before granting them my favours."

"I pray you then, even if I only attract you a very little, allow me to essay these tests," said Roger, quickly.

She gave a low laugh. "I confess to just the suspicion of a hanker­ing for you, so it shall be as you wish."

The scent of Attar of Roses that she favoured was strong in Roger's nostrils. Her head was now so close to his that he could feel her warm breath on his cheek. She was leaning very lightly against his shoulder, and she seemed to him now unutterably desirable. His heart began to hammer in his chest.

CHAPTER x

THE TWO TESTS OF NATALIA ANDREOVNA

THE dim light in the box was just sufficient for Roger to catch the fleeting smile of promise that flickered over Natalia's lovely face, then she went on. "But if you fail me in either test I'll be adamant. Moreover I warn you now that should I take you for my lover I'll expect com­plete faithfulness. On that I insist, and if I catch you deceiving me I'll give you cause to rue it."

He kissed her hand, and his voice trembled with eagerness as he said: "Your conditions are mine, Madame. May I know the tests?"

"Nay, that is my secret," she replied with a note of amusement in her voice. "But from to-night you may call me Natalia Andreovna, and, if you will tell it me, I will call you by your given name; for in Russia these formal 'Messieurs' and 'Mesdames' are never used between friends."

"My name is Rojé,and that of my father Christophe," he said, pro­nouncing both as was customary in France. "So I suppose that in Russia I should be called Roje" Christorovitch."

"Then, Rojé Christorovitch, you may take me riding to-morrow morning at ten. o'clock. 'Tis unnecessary for you to hire a horse, as I can provide you with a good mount from the Embassy stables. The pine-woods outside the city now smell delicious, and as we ride through them we can talk and laugh to our hearts' content." "I’ll scarce sleep from savouring the pleasure of it in advance, dear Natalia Andreovna," he said gallantly. Then, seeing that the singers on the stage had massed for the final chorus, he drew her to her feet and to the back of the box, where they exchanged a few long kisses before the flambeaux-men ran in to light the theatre up.

On the way home she was very firm with him, and when they reached the Embassy she would not let him come in, but insisted on sending him home in her coach. Nevertheless he felt that he had made excellent progress. The thought of the tests she demanded did not worry him. They seemed to add to the romance of the affair, making her still more desirable; and he reasoned that no woman who wanted a man would make such tests unduly hard. Their long evening together had given him good grounds for believing that she wanted him, and he now felt that she was a much nicer person than he had at first supposed. In fact he was rapidly falling under the beautiful young widow's spell.

When he awoke next morning he found to his delight that the day was fine; and well before ten o'clock he was striding up the steps of the Russian Embassy. A quarter of an hour later Natalia Andreovna came down to him, and the sight of her was enough to make any gallant's heart beat faster. With that same disregard of convention which characterised her father, she was dressed as a man. Her outfit consisted of a dove-coloured beaver tricorne hat with a deep gold band and tassels; a long scarlet coat faced with gold brocade; a buff, gold-laced waistcoat, frilled shirt and man's neckerchief; buckskin small-clothes, jack-boots, gold spurs and a diamond-studded riding-switch. This male attire suited her boyish figure to perfection, and chin in air, she walked with a swagger that made her quite irresistible.

Somewhat to Roger's surprise no horses were being walked up and down in readiness for them outside, but she told him that she had thought that he might like to try one or two mounts and choose which he preferred before setting out; then she led him round to the stable yard.

A little group of grooms were waiting for them with a small white, long-tailed Arab, and a big black mare measuring a good sixteen hands. The men were Russians, with shaggy hair and flat, dark, peasant faces. One of them led the Arab to a mounting block for Natalia and another held the black for Roger. The moment he was in the saddle the moujik sprang away, gave a loud hiss and clapped his hands. Instantly the mare reared wildly and tried to throw her rider.

The next few minutes were hectic. Fortunately Roger was an ex­cellent horseman, and his long legs enabled him to keep a good grip of his mount, otherwise he might easily have had his brains dashed out on the cobbles of the yard. Round and round went the mare, bucking, prancing and kicking, while he hung grimly on and strove to quieten the half-crazy animal.

For a second he caught a glimpse of Natalia; she was smiling broadly and the squat, ugly peasants were grouped round her loudly guffawing at his discomfiture. He realised then that she must have

deliberately mounted him on this vicious brute and instructed the moujik beforehand to frighten it. The thought filled him with rage but made him more determined than ever not to afford her the safe-faction of seeing him thrown off.

Jerking round the mare's head he gave her both his spurs and sent her careering through a gate at the back of the yard that led into the Embassy garden. In a flash, he had crossed the lawn with its neatly patterned flower-beds, and was heading down a path between some plots of early vegetables. Beyond them lay a wooden fence and a paddock. Another touch of the spurs and the mare sailed over the fence. She was a splendid animal, and once he had her in the field, he began to enjoy himself. For ten minutes he rode her round and round it, towards the end forcing her pace to teach her a lesson. Then he found a gap in the fence, put her through it and trotted her back across the garden to the stable-yard.

The wicked little Russian, now mounted astride the Arab, was still there laughing among her varlets. Pulling up the foam-flecked and quivering black in front of her, Roger swept off his tricorne and said with a smile: "My apologies for having delayed your setting out, Natalia Andreovna; but having tested the mount you selected for me I find your choice admirable.'

Her green eyes danced with amusement and just a hint of admir­ation, as she cried: "Let us away, then, Rojé Christorovitch"; and turning her white steed she cantered out of the gate beside him.

They soon left houses and gardens behind, and were riding through woods of larch and pine. After an hour they came out of the forest onto a high promontory from which there was a magnificent view of the slate-blue fjord. Reining in her Arab, Natalia suggested that they should pause there for a while, so they both dismounted and Roger tied the reins of the horses to a tree stump.

Although he had not shown it he was still seething inwardly at the dangerous trick she had played him; and as he tied up the horses it occurred to him that it would serve her right if he took the Arab and left her to ride home on the temperamental black. But he dis­missed the thought almost as soon as it came to him, as, quite apart from the physical attraction she had for him, he knew that it was of the utmost importance for his work that he should keep on good terms with her.

She had seated herself on a fallen tree. As he sat down beside her she took his hand, and said seriously: "Rojé Christprovitch, I am pleased with you. Not many men could ride that black devil as you did, and I am well satisfied with your courage. You have passed the first test with honour."

"So it was a test, eh?" he laughed. "I wondered if it could be. Yet, if you have a liking for a man, and you say you like me, to put him in the way of breaking his neck is a strange way to show it."

"But it gives me pleasure to see a brave man face danger," she replied, quite unabashed. "I would that I had been bora a Roman

Empress; in all time there can have been no sport to compare with watching the gladiators contend in the circus."

"And what of the wretched Christians? Would you have enjoyed seeing them herded defenceless into the arena to be savaged by wild beasts?"

She shrugged. "The Christians of those days were like the Masons of our own time; a secret society, propagating among the slaves the criminal doctrine that they were the equals of their masters, and plot­ting against the safety of the state. For such treason they were with justice condemned to death; so what odds does it make if they were strangled in their dungeons or given to the lions?"

Her callousness repelled him, yet it in no way detracted from her striking good looks, and putting his arm round her waist he said: "What a bloodthirsty little person you are, Natalia Andreovna; but let us talk of pleasanter things. When may I undergo your second test and be proved as to my sensibility?"

"There is ample time for that," she told him with a smile. "For a little you must be content to attend upon me, so that I can come to know you better." But for the next half-hour she allowed him to kiss and caress her; then they remounted their horses and rode back to the city.

When they rode into the yard the grooms were waiting to take their horses, but just as he was about to dismount she cried: "One moment, Rojé Christorovitch. Did you find the black, after all, a good ride?"

"Why, yes," he replied. "She is a fine animal, powerful and with an easy pace. She needs but the firm hand of a practised rider."

"Take her then, as a gift from me. You have proved yourself worthy of her, and will need a mount during your stay in Stockholm. Ride her away and have her stabled at your inn."

Roger knew that the mare was as fine a mount .as he had ever ridden and a most valuable animal, so he thanked her effusively for her generosity and, as he rode away, found himself more puzzled than ever as to whether he liked or disliked her. Those green eyes and that slim figure were playing the very devil with his emotions and he decided that he must not let her cruel streak weigh too much against her; since it was no doubt largely due to her nationality and upbringing.

During the week that followed he called twice on Angdlique de Pons, developed his friendship with Count Hans Axel af Fersan, and found himself well-established as a popular member of the younger set in Stockholm. But between dinners, routs and other entertainments he danced constant attendance on Natalia. He became a familiar figure at the Russian Embassy, and the bull-necked Count Razumofsky now treated him as one of his immediate circle. He learned nothing of importance, but sensed that there was a definite tension in the air, and that the Ambassador regarded the doings of the still-absent King Gustavus with considerable suspicion.

In the course of the week Roger several times came into collision with Count Yagerhorn, as he too was a frequent visitor at the Embassy. Their mutual dislike increased upon a closer acquaintance, and Natalia Andreovna obviously derived considerable amusement from stimulating their rivalry; but as she maintained her prohibition on the tall, fair pink-faced Finn issuing a challenge, and Roger felt that in the cir­cumstances it was unfair to provoke him, they continued to treat one another with frigid courtesy.

Whenever occasion offered Roger pressed Natalia to give him an assignation, or at least proceed with her second test; but she would not be hurried, and his affair with her progressed no further until an afternoon nine days after he had first taken her riding.

By that time they had got to know one another well, and quite apart from her beauty, he ranked her as the most interesting and amus­ing young woman in Stockholm; so he was more eager than ever to bring matters to a head.

They were walking in the garden, and in the hope of forcing a decision he told her that, so desperate had she made him, unless she was prepared to take pity on him soon he would be driven to the conclusion that she was only playing with him, and, in an endeavour to tear her image from his heart, he would seriously consider leaving Sweden.

She softened at once, telling him that she liked him greatly, and had come to count upon his society, so she would seek to prove him no further. Then she nodded towards a window on the first-floor at the back of the house, and said: "That is my room; do you think you could climb up there?"

He gave one glance at the balcony below it, which was supported by the scrolled iron-work of the ground-floor verandah, and laughed. "Indeed I could. Let me do so this very night, my sweet, I beg."

"So be it," she smiled. "Come to me at midnight, but not a moment before. As to your entry to the grounds, you see that postern-door in the wall over there? I will give you the key of it before you leave."

On that side of the house the garden-wall ran within twelve feet of the building, and the door, although at right angles to her balcony, was almost beneath it. He saw that once through the door he would have only a dozen paces to take to reach the verandah. It was an admirable arrangement, as he could not possibly lose his way in the darkness, and the risk of running into anyone during so short a passage from the street to her room was infinitesimal. An hour later, on his way back to the inn with the key in his pocket, his senses almost reeled at the thought of the promised delights of the night to come.

It was not until he was considering what clothes he should wear for his expedition that it suddenly occurred to him that Natalia Andreovna had, after his long siege of her, surrendered at the last somewhat precipitously and only on his threatening to abandon his pursuit of her. Could it be that she did not really mean to receive him after all, but intended instead to play him some scurvy trick, like mounting him on the black horse? Perhaps she would rouse the house pretending to mistake him for a burglar, for the fun of seeing him chased and perhaps beaten by her servants.

On thinking matters over he decided that his suspicions of her were both unjust and unreasonable. She could be very sweet at times and recently had shown in a dozen small ways that she was fond of him. Moreover she had admitted to having had lovers and, just before he left her, had gone up to her room to fetch the key of the postern gate, suggesting pretty clearly that she had made use of it before for a similar purpose. If she had let others come to her that way in the night, why should she not let him?

Nevertheless his lingering distrust of her vicious sense of humour led him to take special precautions. He decided to wear loose, dark easy clothes, as they would not only render him as inconspicuous as possible and facilitate his climb up the verandah, but they would also give him a much better chance of getting away and disappearing in the darkness, if she was base enough to have him ambushed for her amusement. Moreover, a long sword being an awkward weapon to take to such a rendezvous, he would normally have gone unarmed; but on this occasion he decided to carry a hanger and, going out, bought himself a short, thick-bladed seaman's cutlass, which would not get in his way but prove a good, handy weapon if he were attacked.

As he buckled it on he was inclined to laugh at his fears, and his optimism recovered, waited with the greatest impatience for mid­night. When it came he was outside the postern door with its key in his hand, yet he deliberately waited for another five minutes before inserting it in the lock. It turned easily and without a sound, showing that the mechanism was well-oiled. He smiled to himself, feeling certain now that others before him had trodden this road to a night of bliss in the young widow's arms, and he would have betted his valuable black mare against a tabby cat that Count Yagerhorn had been among them.

The night was warm and it was the dark phase of the moon. As he opened the door and slipped through it he was only a blacker patch in the shadow of the wall. Nothing stirred, and he found that the door closed behind him noiselessly, its hinges being as well-oiled as its lock. For a moment he paused with his back against it, looking cautiously round. There was just enough light to discern the outlines of the house and the trees in the garden. Reassured by the utter still­ness he tiptoed forward.

The latticed iron-work of the verandah was, as he had expected, easy to climb. Barely a minute after leaving the ground he swung himself over the low balcony. In the faint light he could now see that one of the two French windows which gave onto it was standing ajar. Quickly pulling off the gloves he had used to keep his hands free from the dirt on the iron, he thrust them in one of his pockets, and gently pushed the window open.

"Natalia Andreovna," he whispered.

As no reply came he stepped inside. The room was almost pitch-dark. A faint light came from its far end outlining a curtained doorway, and this was sufficient to show him the position of a big four-poster bed. As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness he could just make out her head upon the white pillow.

Tiptoeing forward he whispered her name again. She moved slightly, showing that she was awake, but still made no reply.

It struck him then that perhaps she was much shyer than he had thought her, or wished to make a pretence at the last moment that she was being taken against her will. Smiling to himself he swiftly slipped out of his loose clothes, stepped up to the bed and, stooping above it, kissed her.

Her lips responded warmly and her arms closed round his neck. Pulling the sheets back he slipped into bed beside her, and began to murmur little phrases of endearment.

Without a word she pulled him to her and kissed him again; but with her movement there suddenly came to him a wild, almost incredible notion. Something told him that the woman he was embracing was not Natalia Andreovna.

Her perfume was that which Natalia affected, and she seemed about the right height; but her breasts were larger and her waist thicker than he had imagined could possibly be the case with the lithe Russian.

Putting up one hand to caress her hair, he felt it. Natalia's ash-blonde tresses were as smooth and as fine-spun as the sheerest silk; this was much coarser and slightly crinkled.

Pushing the woman from him, he sat up with a jerk, exclaiming angrily: "What is the meaning of this trick? You are not Natalia Andreovna! Where is she?"

There came a low laugh from behind the curtain and it was pulled aside, allowing a dim light to seep into the room. Natalia stood framed in the doorway. She was wearing a satin night-robe and her long ash-blonde hair, now parted in the middle, fell like a smooth cascade of silver about her shoulders.

"Here I am, Rojé Christorovitch," she smiled. "Waiting to make you welcome. Had you had my maid you would never have had me. But you have passed my test for sensibility with as much honour as you did that for courage."

As Roger gaped at her she spoke in Russian to the woman beside him. He saw now that she was a dark-haired merry-eyed girl of about twenty. At her mistress's order she jumped out of bed, flashed her white teeth at him in a wide grin, and ran giggling past Natalia Andreovna into the next room, which, from what he could see, was a clothes-closet.

With an enigmatic smile on her thin lips, the uncrowned Queen of Sweden drew the curtain behind her, plunging the room again into near darkness. Then she ran forward with, outstretched arms and, as he caught her, buried her face in his neck.

In the hours that followed he had no reason for complaint. Having finally made up her mind to give herself the slim Russian did so in no half-hearted manner. All the promise of her strange exotic beauty and the slumberous fires of passion that he had sensed in her were fulfilled. When, as the first streaks of dawn came through the window, he at last rose to leave her, he knew that this was one of the nights of his life that he would always remember.

Having dressed he bent above her for a last kiss and murmured: "Tell me, my miracle of love, when may I come to thee again?"

"Be outside the postern gate each night at midnight," she whispered. "If there is a pale light showing from the window of my closet next door, thou mayest take it that I shall be willing to receive thee. If there are full lights in my apartments, or darkness, thou wilt know that I am not in a mood for love. But I warn thee, once again, that even if twenty nights pass without a welcoming signal I still require thee to be faithful to me. And if I have cause to believe that thou art otherwise, I'll give thee good reason to regret thine infidelity."

"Heaven having sent me the most wondrous mistress in all Stock­holm why should I be fool enough to dally with any woman of lesser calibre?" he replied; and he meant it, too, as he added with a laugh: "For my part, should I suspect thee of favouring another gallant I'll slit his gizzard as surely as a cook would spit a capon for the roast."

"I like thee the more for that," she laughed back. "Go then; and for what remains of the night sleep well, that thou mayest love me the better when darkness falls once more."

Roger descended to the garden, reached the street and locked the door behind him, without incident. On his mile walk back to his inn he felt as though he was treading on air. The city was still silent and deserted, seeming almost unreal in the pale dawn light. A gentle breeze from the sea was wafting away the cobwebs of the night and its cool freshness tasted to him as good as champagne.

He thought of Georgina. It was almost two months since he had parted from her and he wondered if she and her father had gone abroad yet. Not for the first time he thanked her in his heart for having caused him while still a boy to set an extremely high standard for his loves, so that he had not frittered away his manhood in casual, sordid little amours, but always chose his women carefully and took time and trouble to win the very best. He did not think that she would like Natalia Andreovna as a person, but he knew that she would applaud his having won the uncrowned Queen of Sweden for his mistress.

June came in with glorious weather and Roger's only regret now was that the nights were all too short; particularly as Natalia would not let him come to her every night. After three visits in succession she had told him on the 30th of May that she thought they ought to be content with three or four clandestine meetings a week in future; but that he was to come just the same each night to see if the dim light was in the window of her dress-closet, as she had no wish to make up her mind in advance which nights she would receive him.

As society in Stockholm did not keep late hours the tie of going every midnight to see if the dim light was offering him a welcome did not seriously interfere with his other enjoyments; and although he had an engagement every evening, during the first half of June he had to slip away early from parties to keep his appointment only on three occasions.

He had no qualms at all about lingering in the Swedish capital instead of going on to St. Petersburg, where lay the vortex of his mission; since, having become one of Count Razumofsky's circle, he was now admirably placed for acquiring the latest information on international relations between the courts of northern Europe.

The Count, as Roger soon found, was not of the school of diplomats who believed in finesse. He scorned such tactics, and relied instead on the immense power and prestige of his position as the representative of Her Imperial Majesty, the Czarina of All the Russias. He was a loud­mouthed, blatant bully, who took delight in boasting openly that if King Gustavus had the insolence to play any tricks he would have him off his throne.

Yet, that the Swedish King was planning something, there could no longer be any doubt. The Russian Ambassador's spies kept him constantly informed of Gustavus's activities and Roger, in his role of a Frenchman and pro-Russian, had only to ask the most casual lead­ing questions on his daily visits to the Embassy, to be given the latest intelligence.

Early in June he learned that great quantities of barrels contain­ing salt-meat and fish, and other stores, were being secretly despatched from Stockholm to the Fleet base at Karlskrona; but that the King had left there and was now engaged in a tour of inspection of his principal military depots.

Roger also learned that there was considerable activity in the other camp; particularly among the Finnish nobility. Count Erik Yagerhorn continued to be a daily visitor to the Russian Embassy; and, although he spent much of the time dancing attendance on Natalia, he was frequently closeted with her father, often bringing other Finnish nobles and discontented Swedes with him to these conferences.

It was soon clear to Roger that the tall, fair Finn was in the pay of Russia, and a prime mover in organising the powerful party in the Riksdagwhich could be counted to oppose the King and veto any measure he might introduce for Sweden to honour her obligation to her Turkish allies.

Roger's one regret in this connection was that having supplanted Yagerhorn in Natalia Andreovna's affections rendered it impossible for him to cultivate the Finn's acquaintance and thus learn something more concrete of his designs. As it was, whenever they met they either glowered at one another or endeavoured to provoke the fair Russian's amusement by being witty at one another's expense. Roger's tongue being considerably sharper than that of the bovine-looking Count he usually came off best in these encounters, but he knew by the looks he received from the man's hard, pale-blue eyes that he had made of him a most deadly enemy.

On the 15th of June, intelligence came in that King Gustavus was expected back in his capital on the 18th, and Count Razumof sky announced his intention of calling him to account. The Ambassador was still fully persuaded that the King positively dared not go to war with Russia, and was convinced that his military preparations were designed, not with a view to active operations, but as a threat intended to force Russia to withdraw troops from the Crimea in order to rein­force her northern frontier.

As that frontier had been almost entirely denuded of its garrisons for the war against the Turks, it was of the first importance that Russia should know if Gustavus was about to launch a colossal bluff or a real attack, and Razumof sky meant to force him to declare himself.

On learning that matters had reached such a critical stage Roger thought that the time had come to make his first report to Mr. Pitt. Much of the knowledge he had gained while in the Scandinavian capitals could be of no interest to the Prime Minister, since the personal intrigues of the royal families of Denmark and Sweden must be known in Whitehall already; but if he could get to England an account of the present crisis and, above all, the result of Count Razumofsky's coming interview with King Gustavus, before it reached there through any other source, he felt that he would have earned his keep.

Since the post of British Minister in Stockholm was vacant there seemed an excellent chance of being first with the news, and his only problem was how to send it. Inquiries at the port disclosed that there was no ship sailing for England until the 26th, but there was a British ship outward bound for Copenhagen on the 20th, so he decided to send his letter by it to Hugh Elliot, who would ensure it being forwarded to London by the quickest available means.

In consequence he devoted a good part of that evening to writing at considerable length to Elliot, regarding Gustavus's military pre­parations, the machinations of the Finnish nobility, and Count Razumofsky's view that the King did not really mean to fight. He then hid the letter in a jack boot at the bottom of his trunk, intending to add a postscript at the last moment immediately he had learned the outcome of Razumofsky's demarche on the 18th.

He had scarcely relocked his trunk when a note was brought up to him which proved to be from the Marquise de Pons. In it she said that Sunday the 17th was her birthday, and that Monsieur le Marquis had to be present as the guest of honour at the annual dinner of the French Literary Society in Gothenborg, so she was inviting a few young people to a small, intimate party starting at eight o'clock. She hoped that she might count on Roger to make one of their number.

As he had kept on excellent terms with Angelique de Pons he at once accepted the invitation, and thought no more of it; but he had not been at the French Embassy on the Sunday evening for long before he realised that the party might have unforeseen and unfortunate repercussions.

It consisted only of the Marquise, three other young married women, himself and three other young men. All Angelique's friends were French, and the idea seemed to be that for her birthday cele­bration they should forget that they were exiles in a land where early hours were the rule and consider themselves as back in France with youth at the-prow and pleasure at the helm.

Roger knew at once that meant supper at midnight and carriages at three in the morning, and he was considerably perturbed at the idea that he would not be able to keep his usual rendezvous with Natalia Andreovna. In such a carefully chosen little company it would be out of the question for him to excuse himself at eleven-thirty, short of feigning illness and that, as it would spoil Angelique's party, he felt most disinclined to do. However, as his welcoming dim light had been in evidence on both the last two nights he thought that the odds were all against it being there a third night in succession; so he decided to take a chance on that, and gave himself up to enjoyment.

They played King Louis XVI's favourite game of blindman's-buff, dumb-crambo, forfeits, and at all sorts of other simple, laughter-raising pastimes which had become the mode at the Court of France when Marie Antoinette had arrived there as a very young Princess, and had remained fashionable ever since. The chef surpassed himself in the collation served for his mistress's birthday-supper, the wines were from the finest vineyards of Vouvray, Champagne, Burgundy and Sauterne, and the kisses, taken as forfeits behind a screen after midnight, had enough spice in them for all the women to feel that they had been deliciously wicked, but not enough so to cause later regrets. Roger got to bed at four in the morning having enjoyed every moment of it, and without giving another thought to Natalia.

Six hours later he called at the Russian Embassy to take her out riding. She was in excellent spirits and made no mention at all of the previous night, so he was much relieved to think that his assumption that she would go to bed early had been right, and that she had no suspicion of his having failed to keep his rendezvous. As he always entertained her with an account of his doings he told her that he had been out to the French Embassy to Madame de Pons' birthday party, but he said nothing of its intimate nature, of the Marquis's absence or of his own belated return to his inn.

Her only comment was that she supposed that Madame de Pons had given herself out to be twenty-five, but she must be twenty-eight if she was a day; which made Roger laugh inwardly, as he knew Angelique to be thirty-one; but he would not have dreamed of giving his friend away and simply replied that her age had not been mentioned.

At midnight he was at his usual post outside the postern door. The dim light of welcome was showing, so in he went, and up the iron-trellis work to his twelfth clandestine meeting with Natalia. It was three weeks exactly since he had first tiptoed into her room yet neither had reason to complain of any falling off in the other's ardour. But it was nearing the longest day of the year, and the dawn came very early now, so at half-past three he kissed her farewell and climbed over her balcony down into the garden.

The place was as utterly still as usual and for a moment he stood" there drawing the cool night air deep into his lungs, while admiring a clear half-moon that was now low on the horizon; then he opened the postern door, stepped out into the street and put his hand in his pocket for the key to lock it.

Suddenly a group of figures detached themselves from the deep shadow cast by the wall and ran at him. In a second he saw that he was opposed to four ragged ruffians armed with cudgels and a tall, masked man who wore a sword. Blessing the habit he had fallen into of carrying his cutlass on these midnight expeditions he sprang back and drew it.

The tall man was urging the others on. His figure and voice gave away the fact that he was Count Erik Yagerhorn. Roger knew then that this was no chance hold-up by a gang of robbers who would let him go if he gave up his purse. He had been ambushed by an enemy who meant him grievous injury; and five to one were too heavy odds for him to have much prospect of fighting his way out of the ring that had so swiftly formed about him. His only chance of escape lay in using all his wits without an instant's delay.

As he side-stepped his nearest attacker the thought came to him that if he could get back through the postern Natalia would rouse the Embassy servants to come to his assistance. He could say that he had been attacked in the street, and finding the door open, had taken refuge there. She would know that he was clever enough to think of some such excuse to save her from being compromised. But on his dodging the first rush one of the rogues had slipped behind him, and now stood between him and the door. Ducking one blow he parried another; then ran at the man who barred his path to the postern and the safety that he hoped lay behind it.

On running forward his glance was caught for a second by some­thing white ten feet above the wall. It was the moonlight glinting on a pale face. Up on the balcony, wrapped in a dark cloak and leaning forward in an intent attitude, silently watching the fracas below, stood Natalia Andreovna.

Instantly it flashed into Roger's mind that she must, after all, have known that he had failed to keep his rendezvous the previous night, and had assumed that his failure to do so meant that he had been unfaithful to her. In the same second he realised that Count Yagerhorn would never have dared to ambush him beneath her window without her consent. She must have deliberately invited the Finn to take his revenge.

Roger's cutlass bit into the shoulder of the man in front of the door. He let out a yell of pain. Like a distorted echo there came from the balcony above a low laugh.

Filled with rage and revulsion Roger realised that the beautiful green-eyed Russian was thinking of herself as a Roman Empress who, believing that her lover had deceived her, had had him thrown to the lions and was now deriving a vicious excitement from the prospect of seeing him torn to pieces.

Three of the men closed in on him. Grimly he realised now, that there was no escape. Striking out right and left he began to fight for his life.

CHAPTER XI

THE INEXPERIENCED SPY

ROGER had never before used a cutlass in earnest, and at the many fencing-schools he had attended he had always disdained the sabre; but he found that in his present emergency the short, thick-bladed weapon was likely to serve him better than a sword. Had it been a case of steel to steel he would have chosen a rapier every time, but a blow from a heavy cudgel might easily snap a thin blade; moreover, if driven home by a thrust of any force into the muscle of an antagonist it was liable to become gripped there and prove difficult to pull out.

As he recovered from the stroke with which he had wounded the man in front of the door, a big fellow in a leather jerkin made a swing at his head. He ducked, and struck sideways at the man's body. The blow was a glancing one, and the leather turned it, but the man backed away with a grunt.

Swivelling round, Roger was only just in time to parry a swipe from a thick-set ruffian, and using the agility which was one of his principal assets in a fight, landed him a sharp lack on the knee. But he was too late to avoid the fourth man's cudgel. It descended with a dull thud on the back of his left shoulder-blade, knocking him forward, so that he stumbled and nearly fell.

His sudden lurch saved him from the big fellow's second stroke. It missed his head by a bare inch, cleaving the empty air behind him. Regaining his balance he struck upward at the tall man's chin. The blade cut into it, crunching on the jaw bone. With a moan the man dropped his cudgel and staggered back, his hands pressed to his bleed­ing face.

For a moment Roger thought that his prospects looked a little brighter. He had put two of his five attackers out of the game, temporarily at least. If only he could deal equally effectively with their leader the others might lose heart and take to their heels. But Count Yagerhorn was behaving warily, and stood well out of reach behind his men.

It seemed, too, that the Count was still quite confident of the out­come of the affair. He had not even bothered to draw his sword, and was standing there smacking his boot impatiently with a riding-crop from the end of which snaked a long lash.

As Roger glimpsed it his gorge almost choked him with rage. Evidently Natalia Andreovna had ordered him a whipping. The gutter-carls had been hired to disarm and overcome him, then the Finn meant to give him a thrashing in front of her; Rage, disgust and hatred seethed in Roger's brain, but the desire to be revenged only flickered in and out of it; he was far too hard-pressed to give more than an instant's thought to anything other than avoiding and dealing blows.

The man who had struck him on the back and the thickset ruffian rushed at him simultaneously. The first, a thin, lanky fellow, was com­ing in on his right. Roger sliced at his long arm as it came down, hoping to sever it at the wrist; but the other man got in first. His cudgel took Roger on the upper part of the left arm. The pain was so intense that for a moment he thought it had been broken. The blow swung him half round and his cutlass, instead of meeting flesh, buried itself in the lanky man's cudgel.

For a moment the two of them swayed violently back and forth in a nightmare tug-of-war, as each tried to wrench free his weapon. The thickset man brought down his cudgel again, but Roger dodged the blow and kicked him in the stomach. With a gasp of agony he fell backwards, doubled up and rolled in the gutter. But, as Roger delivered the kick, his other antagonist jerked him sideways. In his endeavour to keep a hold on his cutlass he lost his balance and pitched forward on to his knees. Cutlass and cudgel were still locked together. The lanky rough pulled with all his weight on the latter, dragging Roger a few yards along the roadway.

Suddenly Count Yagerhorn came into action. His whip hissed through the air, striking Roger full across the shoulders and curling round his body. With a cry of pain he let go the hilt of his cutlass. Throwing up his arms to protect his head he attempted to stagger to his feet. But the man in the doorway, who had been crouching there staunching the blood from the wound in his shoulder, now ran forward and kicked him in the ribs. The kick sent him sprawling on his hands and knees. The Count's lash bit deep into his flesh a second time.

Except for the swift shuffling of feet and an occasional curse or cry of pain, the fight was being waged with silent ferocity. Beyond the little circle of swaying, lunging figures the stillness of the pre-dawn hour had, up to that moment, remained unbroken, but now the ring of horses' hoofs came with sudden clearness on the crisp, cool air.

Instantly Roger began to shout for help. During the past two months the use of French had become so habitual to him that he instinctively used that language, calling out at the top of his voice: "A' moi! A' moi!"

The hoof-beats grew rapidly louder, and by the direction from which they came he knew that a coach must be driving along the main road, past the front of the Russian Embassy, only fifty yards away.

Lurching to his feet he began to run towards it, .redoubling his cries as he went. Count Yagerhorn lashed him again; the lanky man kicked him on the thigh; but he staggered on yelling with all the power of his lungs.

In the moonlight he could now see the leaders of the team that drew the coach. To his infinite relief they swerved round the corner into the bylane, drawing the vehicle swiftly towards him. But the Count and his bullies were determined that their prey should not escape. The Finn was only two yards behind him and striking at him again and again as he ran. Heavy footfalls told that at least two of the others had recovered sufficiently from their .hurts to assist in the pursuit.

The champing horses of the coach team were reined in to a halt. It had hardly stopped before a thin man of medium height jumped from it into the roadway.

At that second the thick-set man threw his cudgel. It struck Roger a violent blow on the back of the head. Pitching forward he fell at the feet of the newcomer. Aching in every limb, dazed and exhausted he was conscious for a moment that, in a high-pitched voice, the man from the coach was shouting short, imperative phrases in Swedish, and that Yagerhorn and his roughs had halted, turned, and were fleeing; then he fainted.

When he came to, he found himself being lifted from the coach. Supported by two men he was half-pulled, half-carried through the doorway of a house and up several flights of steep stairs. The effort to help rather than hinder his progress proved too much for him, and, as they reached an attic-room at the top of the house, he lost con­sciousness again.

On his regaining his senses for the second time, he saw that he was now in bed in the attic-room and that a middle-aged man with thick fair hair cut en brosse, who wore a severe dark cloth suit but did not look like a servant, was bending over him. His hurts had had salves put on them and been bandaged while he was unconscious. They smarted considerably less than they had when he had been helped upstairs, but his head was aching vilely.

On seeing his eyes open the soberly-clad man asked in French: "How feel you now?"

"Better, I thank you; but for my head," Roger replied with an effort. "Pardon me if I fail to recognise you; but surely 'twas not you who rescued me from that crew of villains?"

"Nay, it was my master," came the quick answer, "and he has charged me to care for you. But, tell me, Monsieur; what is your name and where is your abode? I ask that I may send to let your friends know that you are here, lest they be anxious for you."

Roger smiled gratefully up into the aesthetic face of his questioner. "I am fortunate in having quite a number of friends in Stockholm; but none who would be concerned for me at the moment. I am the Chevalier de Breuc, a visitor to Sweden, and for the past five weeks have been lying at the Vasa Inn."

The man's eyes narrowed slightly, then he nodded. "In that case no such measures as I had envisaged are required. But 'tis dawn already, and you had best sleep for a few hours."

Not only had Roger been up all night, but his beating had taken a good deal out of him; so, within a few minutes of the man having left him, he fell into a deep sleep from which he did not wake until well on in the afternoon.

His left arm and shoulder-blade pained him sharply as he moved and his head was still aching dully. Cautiously, he lifted his arm and felt it all over; to his relief no bones seemed to be broken. He noticed that his clothes had been brushed and lay neatly folded on a nearby chair, but he felt no inclination to get up and was quite content to lie there dozing for another hour or so; until the door opened softly and his dark-clad host came in carrying a tray of food for him.

Roger expressed his thanks, then added: "I have no wish to trespass on your kindness unduly, Monsieur, and I find myself now sufficiently recovered to get up; so when I have eaten I will dress and return to my inn."

The other shook his fair, close-cropped head. "It is better that you should bide here for the night. I am sure, too, that my master will wish to see you before you leave, and 'tis unlikely that he will come in until midnight. If you feel well enough to dress then, so much the better, as he would be able to talk to you in greater comfort down­stairs."

It struck Roger as somewhat strange that his rescuer should require him, while still a semi-invalid, to wait upon him at so late an hour; but both gratitude and politeness forbade him commenting on the fact, so he said: "As you wish, Monsieur. May I know the name of the gentleman to whom I am indebted for my safety; and your name too?"

"My master is the Count Haga," came the quiet reply. "As for myself, I am usually known as the Prebendary."

Alone once more Roger pondered this slender information. The name Count Haga had a vaguely familiar ring, but somehow he could not place it, and assumed that the Count must be one of the many Swedish nobleman whom he had met casually at some reception during the past five weeks, or had heard mentioned in conversation. The designation of Prebendary conveyed nothing, except that its bearer was a clergyman, and Roger concluded that the fair man must be Count Haga's private chaplain.

When he had finished his meal he slept again. On waking he felt much better and found that the room was almost in darkness. His watch had been placed on a table beside his bed and wound up for him; a glance at it showed that it was half-past nine, so he decided to get up. Having lit the candles on the dressing table he set about his toilette. It was a slow and painful process, but by half-past ten he had made himself as presentable as was possible without a change of linen.

To kick his heels in the attic for an hour and a half seemed an uninspiring way of passing the time, so he thought he would go down­stairs and talk to me Prebendary until Count Haga put in an appear­ance. But, on going to the door, he found to his great surprise that it was locked. He remembered then having noticed earlier in the day that the single, sloping skylight in the steep roof of the attic was heavily barred.

As it dawned upon him that he was a prisoner he recalled having already thought it a little queer that, being obviously a person of quality himself, he should have been put in an attic; when, in a noble­man's house, there were nearly always a number of spare bedrooms. Puzzle his wits as he would, he could think of no possible reason why the mysterious Count Haga should wish to detain him there against his will; but there had been no indication that any harm was intended him, so he sat down to await a solution to the mystery with such patience as he could muster.

Soon after midnight the Prebendary came for him, and refraining from comment on the locked door, he followed his guide downstairs to a comfortable book-lined room on the first floor.

A richly-dressed man whom Roger judged to be a little over forty was standing with his back to the empty grate smoking a long pipe. His features were sharp; a big, slightly-curved nose jutting out from his somewhat receding chin and forehead. But his brow was broad, his eyes large and intelligent, and his mouth firm.

He returned Roger's bow only by a slight inclination of the head but courteously waved him to a chair; then said briskly in such ex­cellent French that his Swedish accent was hardly perceptible.

"I am happy to see, Monsieur, that you have sustained no serious injury. Tell me, please; what were you about outside the side-door of the Russian Embassy in the early hours of the morning?''

Strong as was Roger's cause for resentment against Natalia Andreovna, he had been brought up in the tradition that a gentleman does not "kiss and tell," so his immediate instinct was to protect her reputation. He was about to reply that, finding the summer-dawns in Stockholm irresistible, he had been taking an early morning walk, when Count Haga forestalled him, by adding:

"If you had been lying with that vicious Russian slut you are not called upon to protect her name from any mistaken sense of chivalry. 'Twould not be the first time that having quarrelled with one of her gallants she has had him whipped beneath her window."

Roger recalled Angelique de Pons' warning to him on his first night in Stockholm, that Natalia had a reputation for playing malicious tricks upon her- discarded beaux. Having never thought of himself as on the point of being discarded it had not recurred to him since; but it now appeared that the little Russian's sadistic manner of terminating her love-affairs was a habit, and comparatively well-known, so there seemed no point in lying about the matter.

"Then, Monsieur, I'll confess to having been her latest victim," he said with a rueful smile.

"I have found little time for women," remarked Count Haga, puffing out a cloud of smoke, "and from such results am glad of it."

"And I," Roger retorted crisply to this uncalled-for rudeness, "none at all for smoking a pipe. But mayhap we are both missing something."

The Prebendary had seated himself behind a desk at the end of the room and was studying some papers. He suddenly looked up and Roger, catching his startled glance, read in it an obvious fear that such a caustic comment might have given offence to his master. But the Count only laughed and cried: "Touché!You are a bold-spoken young man, and I like you for it."

In spite of the locked door of his room Roger felt now that he had spoken somewhat abruptly for a guest, so he replied: "Your pardon, Monsieur le Comte. Having been made such a fool of rankles with me still; but I should not have shown resentment at your remarking on the cause of my undoing, particularly as I have not yet expressed my deep gratitude to you for having saved me from those villains."

The Count waved his thanks aside. "Think no more of it, Monsieur. By a fortunate chance I happened to be coming here from my—my house across the bay, and I heard your cries. However, seeing that my intervention saved you from serious chastisement I think that, on balance, you may still consider yourself as the gainer from your com­merce with the Baroness Stroganof."

"I had no reason to complain of the lady's ardour," Roger admitted, as that seemed the obvious reply.

"I meant not that," said the Count quickly. "The Baroness' temperament has not the least interest for me. I referred to all that you learned, owing to your intimacy with her, of her father's affairs."

Roger's heart missed a beat, but he managed to keep his face quite blank as he murmured: "I fear that I fail to understand you, Monsieur."

"You understand me well enough!" The Count's tone now held a threatening note. "And you had best be honest in your replies to me; for I have not yet made up my mind how I shall deal with you."

Wondering what the devil was coming next, Roger replied coldly: "You speak in riddles, Monsieur; and I resent your tone."

"You will have something more solid to complain of unless you answer my questions promptly," came the swift retort. "To start with you will admit that you are a secret agent—a spy."

"Forsooth!" cried Roger feigning intense indignation. "There are bounds even to gratitude, and the fact that you saved me from a worse beating than I got does not give you the right to bring such a charge against me. I am a simple traveller here; and, did my debt to you not forbid me, for such an insult I'd call you out."

He could not conceive any possible way in which this suspicion of his real reason for being in Sweden had arisen, but he knew that to allow it to be pinned upon him might spell ruin to his mission. Rather than submit to an interrogation he determined to make an attempt to break out. The Count and the Prebendary were both more than twice his age and neither appeared to be armed. Even incommoded as he was by his recent injuries he believed that in a free fight he would prove more than a match for the two of them. He realised that he would not be able to prevent them raising an alarm, and it was certain that there would be servants below stairs who would endeavour to prevent his escape; but with luck he might succeed in reaching the street; and once free he must now do his best to disappear from Stockholm before he could be caught, or knowledge of his activities become more general.

"Cease this pretence!" snapped the Count. "I know you for what you are! Tis fourteen years since I abolished torture in Sweden, but spies are without the law. Admit the reason for your being in my capital or I'll have the public executioner use the rack upon you until you do."

Aghast Roger stared at him. The connection in which he had heard the name Count Haga before now flashed into his mind. It was the incognito under which the King of Sweden had made his long tour of Italy and France four years earlier. At the thought that his fist had already been tight-clenched for the purpose of knocking Gustavus III out by a straight right to the jaw, the blood drained from his face. As befitted the revelation he sank slowly onto one knee.

"Rise, Monsieur," said the King abruptly. "Whilst in this house I prefer to be known as Count Haga. But remember; if you seek to deceive me further you do so at your peril."

"Sire!" murmured Roger, remaining on bended knee. "I beg you to forgive my temerity. Your Majesty has been absent from your capital ever since my arrival in it, and I swear that I did not know your face. I am shamed beyond words that in your august presence I should have been guilty of such rudeness."

"That has the ring of honesty, at least," Gustavus remarked, a shade less angrily. "Rise now, and tell me of yourself. That you are not French, but an Englishman, I already know."

As Roger stood up his blue eyes were wide with amazement, and he gasped: "I pray you, Sire, at least enlighten me as to how you discovered that? I had believed my French near perfect."

"It is. In fact there's little 'twixt it and my own. But when I carried you here unconscious in my coach you muttered certain English phrases. Then, on your coming round, as you were helped into the house, you changed to French and gave out that you were a French­man. My curiosity being aroused I told Prebendary Nordin to lock you up and take steps to ascertain the truth."

Roger had been long enough in Sweden to become familiar with the names of the King's principal advisers. During his frequent absences abroad the country was virtually ruled by a secret council of four: Johan Kristofier Toll, a great administrator who held the post of War Minister; General Baron Armfeldt, a handsome pervert, but a man of great courage and absolute devotion to his royal master; and two clergy­men of widely differing characters. The first, Olaf Wallqvist, Bishop of Wexio, was a masterful and eloquent prelate, whom Gustavus used to defend the royal measures in public; the second was Carl Gustaf Nordin, who at his own wish remained a simple Prebendary. The last was feared and hated by the others, since the King regarded his advice as indispensable, and always took it in secret before consulting his council.

It seemed strange that Gustavus, whose attitude towards religion was so cynical, that while he played the part of a devout Lutheran in Stockholm, he had also acted as though he was a devout Catholic when in Rome, should confide so much of his most important business to two clerics; but it was rumoured that the deeply religious, self-effacing Nordin was the only man who had the power to put a check upon the rasher schemes of the impulsive King.

It was clear to Roger now that this was Nordin's house, and that he owed his rescue to the fact that Gustavus had been on his way to visit it in the middle of the night, no doubt for the purpose of discussing the present crisis with the man who acted to him in the role of a "Grey Eminence."

As these thoughts flashed through Roger's mind the King began to speak again.

"On learning the name by which you are passing here, the Prebendary had your baggage collected from the Vasa Inn. Hidden in a boot in the bottom of one of your trunks he found a letter, all ready for despatch, addressed to the British Minister in Copenhagen. I read it but ten minutes since, and it gives a most lucid account of your activities here; enough, at least, to land you in a dungeon."

"In that case, Sire, there remains little of interest that I can tell you," Roger said a shade nervously. "If I have in any way contravened your laws I can only cast myself upon your mercy."

As he spoke he was berating himself for a careless fool, and felt that he must have been quite crazy to leave such a document where any determined thief might have come upon it. He decided there and then that if he managed to get out of his present scrape the experience should prove a sharp lesson to him. Never again would he pen so damn­ing a letter in advance; or, if he did, he would keep it nowhere but on his person.

But was he going to get out of his present scrape? That was the now extremely perturbing question. The usual punishment for spies con­victed during a war was death, and in peace to be locked up in a fortress for an indefinite period. The King was all-powerful and had caught him out red-handed. In the face of his own letter he could not possibly deny that he was Mr. Pitt's secret emissary. At the thought he flushed with shame. This was indeed a sorry ending to his first mission; to have given himself away through his own crass carelessness before he had even reached the focal point of his inquiry.

"As far as I am aware you have not contravened my laws," re­marked Gustavus coldly. "But persons of your calling automatically make themselves outlaws when they adopt it; and, as a potential danger to any State in which they may be found, are liable to be dealt with summarily. As for your letter, it tells me much but not all that I wish to know. With what instructions did you set out from England?"

Since the King knew so much already and Roger's instructions had in no way been aimed at Sweden it seemed to him that he could do no harm by filling in the gap, so he replied: "May it please your Majesty, I was on my way to Petersburg. My visits to Copenhagen and Stockholm were for no other purpose than to provide myself with a background as to the personalities of the northern courts before appearing on the scene of my endeavours. Mr. Pitt's dearest wish is to prevent, or at least limit, future wars; and to that end he is prepared to use all means within his power. He has great hopes for his pact with France and for the new Triple Alliance which has just been brought into being; but he does not consider that those treaties should exclude his making additional ones of a similar nature with other countries. My task in Petersburg was to discover if it is still possible to revive Russia's ancient goodwill towards England, with a view to a new under­standing by which the Empress Catherine would bind herself to assist in preserving the peace of northern and central Europe. And, if I found that she was adamant in her resolution to pursue her ambitious projects, to seek ways by which her aggressions might be forestalled, or the power of Russia curbed."

For the first time King Gustavus smiled. "I fear Mr. Pitt is some­what of a visionary if he hopes to make an end to wars; and, for my part, I would not have it so, as 'twould also be the end of glory. But in this last endeavour that you speak of we are at one."

Swift to take advantage of his captor's change of mood, Roger went down- on one knee again, exclaiming: "Dare I hope then, Sire, for your Majesty's clemency?"

"About that we'll see," was the non-committal reply. "Had you been of any other nationality I would have had you clapped in a dungeon ere this, and left you there to rot; but the contents of your letter and what you tell me now cause me to wonder if I cannot find a use for you."

Suddenly he swung round on the Prebendary, and asked: "What think you, Nordin?"

"If you feel that you can trust him, Majesty," answered the cleric quietly.

Gustavus looked at Roger. "Are you prepared to buy your freedom by taking service with me?"

Roger felt little beads of perspiration breaking out on his fore­head. He knew that his fate lay in the balance, and that to this im­patient, impulsive monarch he must make an immediate answer. At any age the thought of being cast into a dungeon, with no guarantee of ever being released, holds all the horror of a nightmare, and at the age of twenty even a violent and painful death seemed preferable. Yet he knew that there were some things he could not do if he was ever to have any respect for himself again. Rallying all the firmness he could muster, and desperately seeking the most tactful way to phrase his reply he said: "I would count it a high honour to serve so wise and gallant a King as your Majesty, were I not already committed to my own. I beg you to believe, Sire, that during my stay in Stockholm I have heard so much in praise of you from the common people, that in this I speak the honest truth."

"Well said, Monsieur!" exclaimed the King; and with a pleased glance at Nordin, he added: "See you, he is trustworthy; and I judged as much."

Turning swiftly back to Roger, he went on: "In the matter that I have in mind you can serve your own master and myself at the same time. But to start with you must disabuse yourself of the idea that you or anyone else can hope to change the nature of that she-devil Catherine. She is a born thief, and had she been bred in the gutter would have delighted even more in picking her clients' pockets than practising the monstrous whoredoms that are her very breath. As it is she has become a robber on the grand scale. She covets land and subject peoples, and will grab them at every opportunity that offers until the day of her death. You may take my royal word for that, and I am in a far better position to judge her than Mr. Pitt can ever hope to be. I have talked to her for hours at a stretch, and after my last visit to her court, in '83, I came away with the conviction that war between Sweden and Russia was inevitable. I have been planning for it and strengthening my forces ever since; by playing the part of David to Goliath is the only way we Swedes can hope to keep our independence."

There was something infectious in Gustavus's obvious conviction that he must risk everything by going to war with a far greater power in order to save his people from a foreign yoke, and Roger, realising with immense relief that he was no longer threatened with life-long incarceration in a dungeon, caught it. Forgetting for a moment that he was addressing a King, and should have waited until his opinion was asked, he cried impulsively:

"From all that I have learned while in the north I judge you right, Sire. But what of your nobility? I gravely doubt if one-tenth of them see the matter with the same clarity as yourself. They are blinded by their own petty interests, and I beg you not to count on their support."

" 'Tis true enough," declared the King. "Their mean and narrow outlook is the gravest danger that I have to face. For their own aggrand­izement they would pull me down to-morrow if they had the chance. They prate of patriotism yet have not an ounce of it between the lot of them, and would rather see the Russians masters here than lift a finger to help me save the country. For nigh on seventy years the stiff-necked hide-bound aristocracy has been the curse of Sweden. Yet I made myself their master when little more than a boy and I am their master still."

Gustavus's eyes were gleaming and in his excitement he began to pace up and down. Suddenly he swung round on Roger. "Did you ever hear tell, Monsieur, how I put a period to their rapacity which was bleeding the country to death, and brought them to heel?"

Roger bowed. "I have heard, Sire, that with great courage you defied your Riksdagin 1772 and assumed the reins of Government yourself; but never the details of how you accomplished that great feat."

"I will tell you, then," said the King, evidently delighted to have a new audience for his favourite story. "You'd scarce credit the humiliation to which the monarchy was subjected when I was a boy. My father, Adolphus Frederick, was nearer to being a figurehead of the nobles while lacking the freedom they enjoyed, than a King. He had but two votes in the Senate, no power to make peace or war, levy taxes or raise recruits; and he could not even grant new patents of nobility except on the occasion of his Coronation. His ministers were chosen for him and he was not allowed a say in the filling of any of the principal appointments of the State. My tutors were selected by the Senate; not for their learning but on account of their subservience to it, and they were changed regardless of my education each time the Caps outed the Hats or vice versa. The Palace was so full of spies that we dared not talk of our private concerns above a whisper; and my father and mother were not even allowed a voice in the choice of a wife for me. Would you believe it, Monsieur, that odious oligarchy actually picked on the sister of the mad Bang of Denmark as my bride; and did so out of pure malice, well knowing the hatred the two royal houses had long borne one another."

Roger made an appropriately sympathetic face. He had not known the circumstances leading up to Gustavus's marriage, and while they could not possibly excuse his abominable treatment of the unfor­tunate Sophia Magdalena, they certainly gave grounds for his initial prejudice against her.

"Yet the protests of all my family were of no avail," Gustavus hurried on. "I was forced to marry her whether I would or no; and, year by year we became more obviously naught but prisoners in a gilded cage. The insolence of the Senate grew to be insupportable. They took to nominating their creatures as our chaplains, ordered our clothes and decided what we should have to eat. The final limit was reached when they announced that in future they meant to dispense with the King's signature on documents of State and, instead, use a name-stamp."

Gustavus's handsome but slightly foxy face had gone a bright pink, and his prominent eyes were popping with anger as he repeated indignantly: "A name-stamp! Just think of it; a name-stamp!

"But that was too much, even for my father. He was a studious, and kindly man, but a poor weak creature. I doubt if he would have jibbed even then had it not been for myself and my mother. Louisa Ulrica was a worthy sister of Frederick the Great. For her wisdom, taste and learning she well deserved the appellation of 'the Minerva of the North.' And she had courage, too; abundant courage. That rabble of a Senate feared her, and endeavoured to bring discredit on her by an accusation of sending to Berlin some of the jewels which had rightfully been presented to her from the Royal Treasury. She flung the lot back in their faces and told them to keep their trash. When the crisis arose she and I, between us, forced my father to threaten to abdicate unless they abandoned their project of the name-stamp. For a few days he feared that he would share the fate of your Charles the First; but we kept him firm, for once, and I made a personal tour of every department of State, forbidding them to act on any order that did not bear the King's written signature. The Senate found that it could not govern without even the shadow of a King, and collapsed like a pricked bubble."

Abruptly the speaker relapsed into silence, evidently becoming absorbed in his memories; so Roger, thinking it to be the end of the tale and that some comment was called for, said: "That was indeed a most satisfactory outcome to your Majesty's fine display of initiative."

"Nay, nay!" cried the King, looking up. "That was but the be­ginning; the testing time which taught me that when called to book the Senate were no more than a pack of craven fools. The affair of the name-stamp occurred over two years before I came to the throne. While still Crown Prince I had to bide my time, but I began to make my preparations for a coup d'etatin secret. When my father died I was in France. The Estates busied themselves against my return by wrangling over the terms of an even more stringent coronation oath than any that had been forced upon my predecessors; those stupid babblers little knew that I was already taking measures for their overthrow. For my project I needed an ample supply of money where­with to bribe key-men and suborn my own troops. I managed to per­suade old Louis XV to subsidise me to the tune of six million livres; though what that cost me by way of a pourboireto the Du Barry, I shudder to recall."

Gustavus gave a sudden laugh. "Still, 'twas worth it; even though the Comte de Vergennes arrived as the new French Ambassador to my Court having failed'to bring the first instalment with him, and I had to borrow on the promise of it from the Dutch. But I anticipate. On my return I found the Four Estates at loggerheads among them­selves. Those of the Peasants, Burgesses, and Clergy were entirely dominated by the Caps, and so controlled by my enemy Catherine, who was prepared to spend a fortune as long as by so doing she could keep me in chains. Only the First Estate still showed some spark of independence; yet even in that the nobles were thinking not of the monarchy, but of themselves. Things were in the very devil of a mess, and that firebrand Count Pechlin caused me endless trouble. He was an extraordinarily astute political intriguer; as dangerous, self-seeking and unscrupulous as your Charles James Fox. Do you know Mr. Fox?"

"I know him slightly, Sire," Roger bowed in answer to the abrupt question. "He has great personal charm but I consider his political machinations utterly despicable. Tis clear that your majesty had the most appalling difficulties to contend against."

"I had indeed. The people knew nothing then of the reforms I intended for their benefit; so the whole country was against me: except for a few nobles who had the sense to see that we were on the verge of a revolution. Yet even they thought me too young and inexperienced to handle the situation myself, and relegated me to a minor part in the coup d'etatwe planned to save the situation. However, they soon learned their mistake."

The King was silent for a minute, then he ceased his excited pacing. " Johan Kristoffer Toll and Baron Sprengtporten, Colonel of the Nyland Dragoons, were the ringleaders. The first has since become my faithful Minister; the other has turned against me. He and Count Yagerhorn are the leaders of the Finnish nobility, who wish to hand their country over to Russia."

" 'Twas Count Yagerhorn who set those rogues upon me, Sire," Roger interjected. "Despite his mask I recognised him plainly."

"That surprises me not at all, seeing that he is Russia's best-paid lackey, and tied both by interest and love, if you can call it that, to Razumofsky's daughter."

"I crave your pardon for interrupting," said Roger after a moment. "Your Majesty was saying. .. ."

"Ah, yes. The plan was that Sprengtporten should proceed to Finland, seize the fortress of Sveaborg and muster an army there. Meanwhile Toll was to secure Christianstadt as a rendezvous for our supporters in Sweden. When both had accomplished their tasks the two armies were to advance from east and south on Stockholm. Then, as Sprengtporten had the impudence to put it to his colleagues, 'we must thrust a weapon into the young King's hand and trust him to use it'."

Gustavus sniffed indignantly. "They had yet to learn that I have two weapons of my own; my sword and my tongue, and that I can use both better than most men. As so often happens with conspiracies, the affair went wrong at the last moment. Contrary winds prevented Sprengtporten from sailing, and before Toll could assemble an army at Christianstadt news of their activities leaked out to the Senate. I was left high and dry in the capital, surrounded by my enemies and with scarcely a man I could count on. On the evening of the 18th of August I learned that on the following day the Senate intended to arrest me."

For a moment the King paused dramatically; then, throwing him­self into his role of hero like a born actor, he cried: "That night and the day that followed were the most exciting of my life. 'Twas my wits against those of the whole governing class of Sweden. If I won, Sweden would have a real King for the first time in seventy years; if I lost, my life would be the forfeit. But my years of secret preparation stood me in good stead. I had taken the trouble to cultivate the goodwill of a number of Army officers. While darkness lasted I sent messages requesting them to meet me the following morning in the great square facing the arsenal. Some two hundred obeyed the summons. I led them to the guardroom of the barracks and there addressed the soldiery. I spoke to them in Swedish, which no monarch had done within living memory. I made the speech of my life, painting in vivid colours the sad state into which our dear country had fallen. I ended by crying 'If you will follow me as your forefathers followed Gustavus Vasa and Gustavus Adolphus, I will venture my lifeblood for the safety and honour of my country'."

Again Gustavus paused, then he threw up his right hand. "On that they cheered me to the echo. The Senate was in secret session debating the question of my arrest. I sent a picket to lock them in, dictated a new oath of allegiance binding the troops to my person, and took possession of the artillery-yard for my headquarters. Then I tied a white handkerchief round my left arm as a mark of recog­nition and bade all my adherents do the same. Within the hour the whole city had donned my symbol. The gates of the capital were closed at my order, the fleet, which was lying off the Skepperholm, was secured, and I returned to my palace absolute master of the situation."

"What a triumph!" Roger could not help exclaiming in genuine admiration.

The King's eyes gleamed. "Ah, but my crowning triumph took place two days later. On the 20th I Sent out heralds to proclaim that the Four Estates should meet in the Riksaalat four o'clock the following afternoon. On the 21st I had my troops line the streets of the city and one hundred cannon trained on the Riksaalwith a grenadier behind each holding ready a lighted match. My terrified enemies crept to the meeting place in twos and threes. When they had assembled I appeared before them in my full regalia and from the throne trounced them for their lack of patriotism. Then I read to them the new Constitution, which I had already prepared with my own hand. Not one of those loud-tongued bullies who, all my life, had treated me with such insolence, had the courage to say a single word in protest. To a man they swore to keep the new Constitution inviol­able, and at last there was a real King in Sweden once more."

With that tact which was one of Roger's greatest assets he again went down on one knee, as the most suitable way in which he could express his admiration for the royal actor.

Nothing could have pleased Gustavus more, and this time he gave Roger a friendly pat on the shoulder, as he said: "Rise, Chevalier; or perhaps I should say Mr. Brook, since it was in that name you signed your letter. We still have much to discuss before morning, and the night advances."

As Roger obeyed he said with feeling: "Your story, Sire, has but added to the high admiration I had already conceived for your Majesty's courage and abilities. This detailed knowledge of your brave handling of the discontented, nobility in '72 also gives me more confidence that if the need arises you will again succeed in circumventing their evil machinations. And in that was my greatest fear for you should it be your royal will to go to war with Russia."

"It is my royal will," declared the King proudly. "The die is cast, and I sail for Finland on the 24th."

Prebendary Nordin gave a deferential but warning cough.

Gustavus swung round towards him. "Be easy, my friend. We know from this young man's letter to Mr. Elliot that his interests inarch with our own. If he is to be of any value to us we must trust him, or he will not know how to serve us best."

Roger bowed. "I thank you, Sire, and vow that I will never abuse any confidence which you may do me the honour to make me. May I be permitted to inquire if Count Razumofsky has yet been officially informed of your intention to go to war with his country?"

A crafty smile flickered over Gustavus's thin hps. "The Count made his demarcheto-day. He demanded to know the reason for our military preparations and seemed mightily perturbed about them. He has good cause for his anxiety, seeing that the Empress has entirely denuded her Finnish frontier in order to reinforce her armies on the Black Sea. She knows my hatred of her and of my alliance with the Turks; but she counts upon my not daring to declare openly against her without the sanction of my Estates, and relies upon her paid hirelings in them to thwart me. 'Twas clear to me that Razumofsky counts upon that too, and believes that I intend only a gigantic bluff for the purpose of drawing pressure off my allies. I gave him fresh grounds for continuing to think it."

A little shocked at such duplicity, Roger murmured: "Then your ^Majesty has no intention of sending the Czarina an ultimatum; and intends to attack her without warning?"

The King nodded. " 'Tis a chance in a lifetime, and I am not the man to miss it. With the Finnish frontier virtually undefended I'll be at the gates of Petersburg within a month; and that proud, evil woman will have no option but to submit to such terms as I'll dictate— unless she wants her capital burned about her ears. But I told Razum­ofsky that I intended only to journey to Finland to make further inspections of my troops, and that I had no mind to offer any fuller explanation until I arrived there."

Roger smiled, which brought the swift question: "What matter do you see for merriment in that, Monsieur?"

"Knowing the Russian, Sire, I was thinking how baffled and angry he must have been at receiving so ambiguous an answer."

"Aye, he was angry as a bull before which a matador waves a red cloak." Gustavus gave an abrupt laugh. "But I gave him more reason for that than I have so far said. For once I allowed myself the pleasure of carrying the war into the enemy's camp. I accused him of fomenting internal treachery here, and aiming at sowing discord between my people and myself. Then I ordered him to leave my Kingdom."

"If I may be permitted to say so, Sire, 'twas a bold step; for is not the dismissal of an Ambassador without asking for him to be recalled by his own Court almost tantamount to a declaration of war? Will not the Empress read your intention in it?"

"Nay, I made it a personal matter; and by the time he reached Petersburg 'twould be too late for anything that the Empress might deduce from his return to be of value to her. I was anxious to have him out of the way before I left Stockholm myself. But, unfortunately he foiled me in that. He declared that he would accept his dismissal from his post only on receiving a direct order signed by his Imperial mistress. 'Twould bring discredit on my Crown to seize the person of an Ambassador and forcibly put him aboard a ship; so he remains. But to some extent I have curbed his power to do mischief in my ab­sence. I insisted that, apart from his personal servants, all his staff should go, and his daughter too, since she is one of his principal links with those of my subjects who conspire against me. For the purpose I have placed a ship at their disposal, and she will sail on the after­noon tide to-morrow."

"Have I your leave, Sire, to add a postscript, reporting these latest moves, to my letter to Mr. Elliot?"

"Mort dieu, Monsieur! You lack not for boldness," exclaimed the King, pausing in his stride. "You should consider yourself plaguey fortunate, to have escaped a prison, and I am amazed at your effrontery in even thinking that I would permit you to despatch your letter."

Roger put on his most disarming smile. "I beg your Majesty to reconsider this matter. We are agreed, I think, that while serving you I should not cease to serve my own Sovereign. But, apart from that, there is the question of a long-term policy, to which I humbly draw your attention. This war that you plan with Russia should result in curbing her power in the North, and that well suits the interests of Britain. Therefore, it seems to me, that, in an emergency, your Majesty would have a good case to claim my country's support. Should such an emergency arise I feel sure, Sire, that your chances of obtaining aid from Britain will be far greater if you have, from the beginning, allowed me to keep Mr. Pitt informed as to your projects and your prospects."

Obviously struck with the idea, the King turned to Nordin and asked abruptly: "What think you, Prebendary?"

"I think, Sire, that this young man has a good head on his shoulders," replied the cleric. "I have his letter here; and should you decide to accede to his request, when he has added a postscript under my supervision, I will see that the document is sent to Copenhagen by a safe hand."

"So be it then," Gustavus nodded to Roger. "And now for your instructions. You will proceed to Petersburg with the minimum of delay, using your French identity, and find out all you can which may prove to my advantage. The Russian capital is within two days' ride o! the Finnish frontier, and no regular guards are maintained for the interception of travellers passing between the two countries. When you have aught of interest to report go over into Finland. On arriving there, and not before, set your news down on paper. Sign such notes only with an initial—E for Englishman will serve; superscribe them to me and mark them as of the utmost urgency. Seal them carefully and hand them to the first Swedish officer you may come upon for immediate transmission to my headquarters. Have I made myself clear?"

"You have, Sire," Roger bowed. "But surely once hostilities com­mence the frontier will be closed and pickets posted along it?"

"They will not interfere with the passage of a neutral. Moreover, I do not desire you to make the journey often; only when you have something to convey which you consider to be of prime importance, so there should be no grounds for them becoming suspicious of you through your crossing with any frequency."

"One other point, Sire," Roger said a trifle hesitantly. "If I set out instantly, as your Majesty commands, I must leave Stockholm without such letters of introduction from the French Ambassador, and others, as I would normally have carried with me. Lack of them will almost certainly delay my securing a foothold in Petersburg society, and thus swiftly becoming well-placed for being of service to you."

The King pinched his slightly receding chin between his fingers and thumb, and remained thoughtful for a moment; then he replied: " 'Tis something of a quandary. I would have you there as soon as possible, and you could have sailed to-morrow in one of the sloops that is to act as escort to the ship which is transporting the personnel from the Russian Embassy. Yet I think your contention sound. On balance 'twould be worth your dallying in Stockholm for a few days to arrive in Petersburg well accredited."

"It is most unfortunate that Mr. Brooks should have quarrelled with the Baroness Stroganof," remarked the Prebendary, glancing up from his papers. "For she could have launched him in Petersburg society with greater réclamethan any number of letters could do."

Roger snapped his fingers. "I have it, Sire! Why should I not sail in the same ship as the Baroness?"

"I fail to see how that could serve you," Gustavus said, with a frown. "In view of her recent treatment of you 'tis clear that she has no further use for your attentions. Did you do as you suggest it would result only in her making of you a figure of public mockery when you reach Petersburg, with a tale of having had you whipped."

"Unless I take some steps to prevent it, she may do that on my arrival, in any case," Roger argued. "Let me make the voyage with her, Sire, and I vow I'll find a way, not only to stop her tongue but to make her serve our ends."

The King shot him a suspicious look. "I believe you are still in love with the wench, and are prepared to swallow your humiliation for the sake of a chance to plead your cause anew?"

"Nay, Sire. I pledge your Majesty my word that I am not. On the contrary I've an itch to be revenged upon her; and how could I be so better than by making her my catspaw?"

"As you will, then. The Prebendary will make the necessary arrange­ments for your accommodation in the ship."

"I thank your Majesty." Roger bowed and turned to the cleric. "I am anxious, Monsieur, that neither the Baroness nor any of her people should be aware of my presence on board until the ship is well out at sea. Could you ensure that for me?"

The Prebendary nodded his close-cropped head. "The Captain is discreet and will accept my orders; but it will mean your going aboard very early in the morning and lying hid in a cabin all day."

"I'll count that ho hardship; and trust it will not cause you serious inconvenience to make arrangements for me at such an hour."

"Best use my coach and take him down to the port now," the King remarked to Nordin. "We'll have the matter done with then, and on your return can proceed with our private business."

Nordin rose to his feet and bowed. "A wise decision, Sire; for while darkness lasts there is even less likelihood of anyone seeing us board the ship, and talking of it afterwards, than there would be at break of day. The letter for Mr. Elliot is here. Perhaps Mr. Brook would like to write his postscript to it while I have his baggage carried down in readiness for his departure."

On the King signifying his approval, Roger took the Prebendary's place at the desk and added the final lines to his letter. Gustavus looked over his shoulder as he wrote and, when he had done, murmured: "I've no objection to that. Nordin shall send your missive by special courier, so it should be in Copenhagen within forty-eight hours."

A few minutes later the Prebendary returned to announce that all was in readiness. King Gustavus was smiling now and, exerting all the charm which he could command when he wished, he held out his hand to Roger, but would not allow him to kneel and kiss it.

"Nay," he said gently. "I feel that I have made a good friend to-night. Let us shake hands, Mr. Brook, in your English fashion."

Roger smiled frankly in response, took the royal hand and bowed over it as he murmured: "I thank your Majesty for the clemency and honour you have shown me. You may rest assured, Sire, that I will do my utmost to merit it."

Five minutes later he was with Nordin in the plain closed carriage, arranging for his reckoning at the Vasa Inn to be settled and to have his black mare stabled there until his return. Within half an hour they were being rowed out to a full-rigged ship that lay at anchor in the bay.

On their going aboard, the night-watchman roused the Captain from his bunk. He proved to be a taciturn, thick-set Swede, whose second language was German; but he accepted Prebendary Nordin's instructions with deference and quick understanding, after which the

Prebendary and Roger took leave of one another with discreet good wishes on both sides.

Roger then held a halting conversation in German with the Captain, who took him down to a small cabin, where they superintended his baggage being stowed away, and afterwards on a short tour of the ship's passenger accommodation. In the principal stateroom, which had natur­ally been allocated to Natalia Andreovna, Roger observed a roomy hanging-cupboard, that he felt would serve for the plan he had already formefl. He also learned that she would take her meals with the Captain; then, having apologised to that worthy for having roused him from his bed, he wished him good night.

It was not until he was undressing that he suddenly realised that he had had no supper, and now felt hungry; but he was loath to dis­turb the Captain again, and endeavouring to comfort himself with the old adage that 'he who sleeps, dines,' he crawled into his bunk.

On thinking over the events of the past few hours he decided that he was extremely lucky to be where he was instead of in a prison-cell. Once more he told himself that in this new career of his he must exercise far more caution if he was to avoid coming to grief, and being cut off from all the joys of life while still in the flower of his youth.

He felt sure that King Gustavus would not have dealt so leniently with him had it not been in his interests to do so, and it was very certain that if the Empress Catherine caught him out she would show him no mercy.

The thought brought home to him the fact that he was now as good as on the last lap of his journey to Russia, and he wondered what the fates held in store for him in that strange, exotic, semi-barbarous country.

He wondered too, just what Natalia Andreovna would have to say to him when he disclosed himself to her. She would almost certainly regard his presence in the ship as a most unwelcome surprise. So long as they remained.at sea she could do him little harm, but once they landed in Russia she would be complete mistress of the situation. If she cared to pursue the vindictive policy she had recently adopted, owing, as it appeared, to her belief that he had been unfaithful to her, no doubt her influence in her own country was quite sufficient to have him thrown into prison on some trumped-up charge.

A little belatedly he realised that, in having acted on a sudden impulse to inflict himself on her as a fellow-passenger during her voyage home, he had given himself as a hostage to fortune. He had gambled, without due thought, on his wits being sharper than hers. If he could succeed in fooling or beguiling her, all would be well; but if he failed it seemed now that he might well be called on to pay a high price for his rashness.

With this perturbing thought he fell into an uneasy sleep.

CHAPTER XII

UNMASKED AGAIN

WHEN Roger woke it was a little before midday. For a second he wondered how in the world he came to be in a ship's cabin; then his arrival on board with Prebendary Nordin in the early hours of the morning and the events which had followed the attack beneath Natalia Andreovna's balcony, rushed back to him.

Again he was seized with apprehension at the thought that he had placed hunself in the power of the slim, green-eyed Russian for whom he felt at the same time such a. strong attraction and repulsion. He was like a man who, in a tropical jungle, comes upon a gloriously-hued flower which he knows perfectly well exudes a deadly miasma, yet finds the temptation to examine it closely almost irresistible. He had toyed with this poisonous blossom for a time with complete impunity, only to receive a sudden violent reminder of its toxic emanations, and now he had deliberately put himself in a situation where there was no escape from the proximity of this fascinating but evil flower.

His first spontaneous idea had been to get aboard the ship in which she was being expelled from Sweden and tell her that, learning of her expulsion, his love for her was so great that he could not bear to part with her; and so had bribed his way aboard to accompany her to Russia.

On the other hand, he now felt, such an abject admission of her power over him might satiate her vanity to a point where she would despise him. If so, instead of assisting him when they reached Russia, she might find fresh grounds for malicious amusement in persecuting him.

Suddenly he became conscious that he was ravenously hungry, and remembered that he had not eaten for close on twenty hours. Jumping from his narrow bunk he pulled on his clothes, then cautiously opened the cabin-door.

The ship was still riding at anchor and no sound suggesting the arrival of passengers came from above decks. Stepping out into the passage he mounted the first companionway he came upon, and, gain­ing the upper deck saw the Captain leaning idly on the rail of the poop.

As Roger approached, the Captain straightened and greeted him with a slow smile. After the usual courtesies had been exchanged, Roger said: '"Tis many hours, Sir, since I have eaten, so I should be grateful for a meal. Moreover, as Prebendary Nordin informed you, there are certain duties I am called upon to perform whilst in your ship. Should it meet with your convenience I'd be glad of the opportunity to have a word with you about them while I regale myself on such fare as your cook can offer me."

The Captain nodded. "The hour of your rising is well chosen, Chevalier. In ten minutes my own meal is due,-and a second cover is easily laid. May it please you to accompany me to the stateroom."

They descended to the main cabin beneath the poop and were soon seated opposite one another at the single long, narrow table. When the cabin boy had served the first dish Roger said in carefully thought-out German:

"I am, as you know, in the service of King Gustavus. My mission is a somewhat delicate one. I am already acquainted with the Baroness Stroganof but have quarrelled with her. 'Tis necessary that I should regain her confidence. To that end I plan to take strong measures. While she is at supper'I intend to conceal myself in her cabin, and later surprise her there. There will be a scene and she may shout for help to have me turned out. I give you my word that I will do your passenger no harm, but 'tis essential that we should not be interrupted. Can you arrange to ensure that for me?"

The Captain considered for a moment, then he replied: "As you are already aware I am giving her my own cabin, which lies behind this. All the other Russians will be accommodated below decks, so 'tis un­likely that they would hear her shouts. The officer of the watch, the helmsman, and any other members of the crew who happen to be about might do so; but I could place a sentry on the passage leading to her stateroom, with orders that no one is to be allowed to pass."

"Excellent," smiled Roger. "Please do so; but not until her maid and all the other Russians have retired to bed; then, late to-night, when we are well at sea, I'll venture on my attempt to make her see reason. In the meantime it is important that none of the Russians should know of my presence on board. So I shall remain in my own cabin, and should be grateful if you would send me down some supper."

Matters having been thus satisfactorily arranged they talked for a little of affairs in Sweden, then Roger borrowed a few books from the Captain, with a view to improving his German, and retired to his self-imposed confinement.

Soon after four o'clock the sounds of shouting overhead told him that the boats bringing off the party from the Russian Embassy had come alongside. Then half an hour later there came the clanking of chains as the anchor was weighed, and a slight rolling of the ship as her unfurled sails were caught by the wind. Gradually the bustle sub­sided and at a steady pace the ship ploughed her way out to sea.

Eight bells, terminating the second dog watch, had only just sounded when the Captain poked his head through the door of Roger's cabin, and said to him:

"Your meal will be coming down in a few minutes now, Chevalier, and the Baroness will be leaving her stateroom to sup with me. Her maid feeds below decks in a mess that I have arranged for the Russian servants; so for the next hour or so your way will be clear."

Roger smiled his thanks and soon after the Captain had left him he was despatching a hearty meal washed down with a bottle of toler­ably good Bordeaux. Immediately lie had finished he went up on deck, loitered under the break of the poop for a few moments with apparent casualness, then stepped into the narrow passage and tiptoed along it to Natalia's stateroom. It was a low but large apartment shaped like a bow, with six small-paned windows in its curved extremity looking out onto the foaming wake of the ship. Beneath the sloping windows there ran a long curved plush-covered settee with lockers under it, and instead of the usual bunk there was a large, low, box-like bed screwed to the deck. A table occupied the middle of the room and a commodious desk was fixed to one of the walls; a Turkey carpet on the floor, and the red patterned curtains framing the windows, gave the place a com­fortable air, which was now the greater from having Natalia's belongings scattered about it.

Roger made straight for the big cupboard that he had noticed the previous night. The four hours since they had sailed had evidently been sufficient for Natalia's unpacking, as hanging from hooks in it there were now a score or more of her dresses. But behind them there was still ample room for him to conceal himself, and appreciatively sniffing the heady scent she used, he squeezed his way through the silken screen; then he drew the door to after him and settled himself as comfortably as he could on the floor.

Some half-hour later he heard the cabin-door open and light foot­steps moving about the room. He thought it a fair bet that Natalia had returned from her supper, but he made no move to leave his hiding-place, as it might have been her maid.

After another ten minutes the door opened again and two voices came so clearly to him that he could have caught every word they said had he understood Russian; but he knew the tones of both so well that he recognised them at once as those of Natalia Andredvna and the girl who had been in her bed on his first midnight visit to the Russian Embassy.

For over an hour, he sat in the close, hot darkness, while they con­tinued a desultory conversation and moved about, evidently arranging the stateroom to Natalia's liking. Then he heard them exchange two of the Russian sentences that he had picked up on his visits to the Embassy: "Good night; good rest," said one; and the other replied: "May St. Nicholas guard you while sleeping." The door closed behind the maid with a sharp clack, and a sudden silence ensued which led him to judge that Natalia must now be in bed.

He could not see his watch but thought it to be about a quarter past ten, so that most of the ship's company, apart from the duty-watch, would have turned in; but he decided to wait a further quarter of an hour, as the fewer people who heard any commotion the little Russian might make on his appearance, the better.

This last wait seemed interminable, but at length he decided that the time had come to act, so he cautiously stood up and flexed his cramped limbs. The slight noise he made in pushing his way through the dresses and opening the door of the cupboard a crack was covered by the hissing of the sea, as it rushed past the stern of the ship, and the creaking of her timbers..

By pushing the door open a little further he could see across the cabin. It was still broad daylight outside, but the red curtains had been drawn, giving the room a warm subdued twilight. Natalia Andreovna was lying on her back in the broad box-like bed with her eyes shut.

As Roger looked across at her he wondered with grim humour if he would share it with her for the rest of the night or if she would prove adamant and drive him from her. On that, or rather, on the next half hour everything depended. He knew that he would have to fight a battle-royal with her which would require all his wits and courage if he was to emerge victorious. He had had ample time to make up his mind on the policy he meant to pursue, and intended to burn his boats by not only charging her with her perfidy but punishing her for it. Such a grasping of the nettle, he felt, offered the only chance of gaining a mental ascendancy over her; but if it failed she would have real cause to vent her spite on him, and he would find himself in the very devil of a mess when they landed in Russia.

Thrusting the door wide he stepped out into the room. Natalia was not asleep. She sat up with a start, and failing to recognise him for a moment in the dim light, cried sharply in German: "Who are you? How did you get into my room?"

" 'Tis I, Rojé Christorovitchl" he replied harshly, advancing towards the bed. "Surely you did not think to throw off a man of my metal with impunity?"

She stared at him, her eyes widening with sudden fear; but her voice was steady as she demanded: "How did you come to be aboard this ship?"

" 'Twas the talk of the town this noon that King Gustavus had ordered you and the staff of the Russian Embassy out of his country. I had no sooner heard it than I came off to the frigate and persuaded the Captain to give me a passage in her."

"With what intent? What do you want with me?"

His laugh was tinged with bitterness. "That should not be hard for you to guess."

"Your face is hard and cold, Rojé Christorovitch." Her voice faltered a little. "I have never seen you so before. Can it—can it be that your love for me has turned to hate; and that you have sought me out to be revenged upon me for that which occurred after our last meeting? If so, I swear to you that it was none of my fault."

"You lie," he said tersely.

"Nay," she protested, her long fingers clutching nervously at the sheets. "The commotion in the street below fetched me out onto my balcony, and I saw that you were attacked. But 'twas all over in a few moments, and I saw you rescued by the stranger in the coach. Other­wise I would have roused the Embassy and brought you aid."

"You lie," he repeated. "You stood there laughing at the vile sport you had planned for your own diversion. I both saw and heard you whilst I fought. And the leader of ray attackers was Count Yagerhorn. I knew him by his voice. Believing me to have been unfaithful to you with Angelique de Pons you deliberately set your ex-lover on to give me a whipping before your eyes,"

Seeing that he knew too much for there to be any sense in deny­ing it further, she flared with sudden anger: "Well, what if I did? I warned you when I took you for my lover that I'd give you cause to rue it if you betrayed me with another. From your first night in Stock­holm you had a fancy for that French bitch. You admitted that you had been to her birthday-party, and you failed to keep our midnight tryst. In Sweden only big functions are kept up so late; 'twas proof enough that you had remained on, or gone back afterwards. I know the Marquis to have been in Gothenborg, and 'twas too good a chance for the pair of you not to take a tumble in her bed."

He shook his head. "In that you wrong both myself and Angelique. 'Tis true I was unable to keep my midnight tryst with you, since the party was on the French model and a late one; yet in that lies the very proof of my innocence. We kept it up till past four o'clock, and I then returned to the city in company with the six other guests, who would vouch for dropping me at my inn. 'Twas full daylight already and, even had I left my inn again to return to the French Embassy, by the time I had got there the servants would have been up and about, so there was nought of the night left to make love in."

"I care not," she muttered sullenly. " 'Tis my opinion that my suspicions were fully justified by your having failed to be at my disposal at the usual place and time. I warned you that I should take it ill should you ever fail in that."

"I've not forgotten it," he snapped. "But at least you should haye had the decency to first accuse me to my face, and seek to verify your suspicions before setting your bullies on to me. To conceal your evil thoughts beneath false smiles, and let me lie with you after you had already planned to have me treated worse than a dog, was a most shameful thing to do.".

"Nay," she protested with an outrageous frankness that quite took him aback. "How otherwise could I have ensured your being outside the postern-gate at dawn and getting the beating I believed you to deserve?"

"But, damn it!" Roger gasped. "Have you no understanding of the baseness of such an act?"

She shook her head. "I know only that I had wanted you the night before and believing you to be in the arms of another was rendered half-mad from jealousy. At two o'clock, since you had not come, and I could not beat you, I pulled my maid from her bed and beat her instead. But I vowed that I'd make you pay for the misery you had caused me before another night was past, and laid my plans accord­ingly."

Roger scowled at her thin, sullen face below him, and the thought that the wretched maid had been beaten for no fault of her own added fresh fuel to his anger.

" 'Tis over-time that someone put a check upon your vicious habits," he stormed. "Have you never a thought but for yourself? Did it not occur to you that in such an ambush as you planned some­one might have lost his life? You knew that I carried a cutlass and would be certain to use it; but with five of those rogues against me I might well have received a mortal wound myself."

She shrugged her slim shoulders. "I loved you passionately and thought that you loved me no longer; so had you been killed I should have suffered less than in believing that you had cast me off and that another was the recipient of your caresses."

"Lovel" he snarled. "You do not even begin to know the meaning of the word!" And he slapped her hard with the flat of his hand across the face.

He had wrought himself up into a temper, yet his anger was nothing near so great as it appeared; and the blow was not delivered spon­taneously, but as a set-piece in an act that he had worked out with great care several hours before. He meant to break her spirit if he could, and had decided that in offering her violence lay his only real chance of making her his submissive puppet by the time they reached Russia.

White and shaken she recoiled from the blow with a little gasp. Then her mouth opened to let out a scream. With a second slap he checked it, so that her cry was half-strangled in her throat.

Squirming away from him she choked out a torrent of abuse mingled with the most terrifying threats. "You filthy Frenchman! By the death of God you shall pay for this. Son of a whore, how dare you strike me in the face! Wait only until we reach Russia, you gutter-bred parvenu, and I'll have the Empress's Cossacks ply their knouts upon you till you're flayed alive!"

"We are not in Russia yet," he said curtly. "And before we get there I mean to teach you how a decent woman should behave herself."

"You'll teach me nothing!" she screamed. "You'll not have the chance. I'll rouse the ship and have the Captain put you in irons for making an assault upon me."

Swift as an eel she slid out of bed. He grabbed at her shoulder and caught her night-robe, but it ripped right down to the waist, and half-naked, she dashed towards the door with Roger in hot pursuit.

Before she could get it open he was upon her. Grasping her wrist he gave it a violent jerk, which swung her round and sent her crashing to title floor. Swiftly he shot the bolt, then turned again towards her.

She was already on her feet and had kicked herself free of her trailing night-robe. Agile as a panther, she bounded across the room towards the heavy desk, wrenched open one of its upper drawers and grabbed a long, curved knife. Before he could get within two yards of her she had whipped round and flashed the glittering blade before his eyes.

Roger halted abruptly in his tracks. For a moment they both remained motionless, glaring at one another. Even in that moment of crisis he could not but catch his breath at the violent beauty of the figure she made. She had not a stitch of clothing on her slim, lissome body but her long, silvery-blonde hair hung like a cloak about her shoulders and half-way down her back. Her small breasts heaved violently with stress and emotion, and her green eyes blazed at him with the fury of a trapped animal.

He felt certain that she meant to kill him if she could, yet he dared not back down now. To have shown a trace of fear or attempted to temporise would have spelled certain disaster. Even if it meant an ugly wound he had got to get the knife from her; otherwise there could be no reconciliation, and within a week she would carry out her threat to have him knouted to death. She was not the woman to forget an injury. Immunity from her vengeance could be secured only by subduing her completely. He had gambled on being able to do that, and now he must go through with it or pay the forfeit.

Suddenly it came to him that, for these next few moments, he must forget that she was a woman, and deal with her as he would a drunken sailor who attempted to knife him in a brawl. So far he had merely slapped her; but now he must hit her in good earnest as the only means of preventing her from giving him an ugly wound.

As he clenched his fists and raised them her eyes widened with astonished dismay. His left shot out straight for her face and she flung herself back against the desk in an attempt to escape the blow. But it was only a feint and did not even touch her. Before she could recover her balance his right landed with a thud in the middle of her stomach.

Her mouth gaped open as the breath was driven from her body. A spasm of pain shot across her features, and dropping the knife, she clutched wildly at the place where his blow had landed, doubled up, then slid gasping to the floor.

Roger kicked the knife away well out of her reach, picked her up and threw her on the bed. For a minute he stood watching her as she writhed there, but he knew that he had only winded her and the moment she got her breath back she would be cursing and threatening him again; so he decided that now was the time to go through with the distasteful task he had set himself.

Striding across the room to a cloak-rack near the door he took frpm it the stoutest of Natalia Andreovna's three long parasols. By the time he got back to the bed her writhing had ceased; she was lying there panting heavily and staring up at him with a strange expression in her eyes. Ignoring her glance he grabbed the hair on the top-of her head with his left hand. Instantly she clawed at it with her long nails in an effort to free herself, but she could do no more than scratch him, and twisting her head round sideways he forced her over onto her face. Then he set about belabouring her bottom with the parasol in no half-hearted manner.

For a few moments she bore her beating stoically, alternatively gritting her teeth and snarling curses at him. Then she began to shout for help, but he forced her face down into the pillow, half-muffling her cries. Next she started to beg for mercy, but he ignored her pleas and continued to belabour her. At last she ceased to curse, struggle and plead, went suddenly limp beneath his grip and burst into a flood of tears.

Only then did he stop, and, throwing the parasol on the floor, stood back from her, panting as a result of his exertions.

She did not move but continued to lie there with her face buried in the pillows, sobbing as though her heart would break. When he had recovered his breath he slowly began to undress, intent now on completing his plan for her subjugation.

He hated the thought of taking her against her will, but not from any moral scruple. He had had her first, and many times since, with her eager consent; so this would have no semblance to a violation. But he disliked the thought of forcing a woman in any circumstances, and, moreover, believed that he had now come to far the most difficult part of the battle that he was waging; since, should she prove really stubborn, and refuse to respond to Ms passion by finally melting in his arms, all that had gone before would count for nothing. They would part still unreconciled and himself inevitably become the victim of her unappeasable hatred.

Yet in this his fears were groundless. Had he lived in Russia for years and been an expert on Russian character and customs he could not have dealt more effectively with her than he had already done. As he laid his hand upon her shoulder she turned over of her own accord, smiled up at him from tear-dimmed eyes and, choking back her sobs, murmured:

"Oh, Rojé Christorovitch, how deeply you must love me, to beat me so."

"Indeed I love you," he replied; and looking down on her thus he almost believed he meant it as he went on: "Surely you do not think that I would have left Sweden at a moment's notice for the sole purpose of paying you out by giving you a beating. You are a wicked child, and it seems that like a fond parent I needs must be stern with you for your own betterment. But I determined at once to sail in this ship because I could not bear to be parted from you."

"Yet you have found the way to my heart," she sighed contentedly. "All that you needed to-be a perfect lover was the violence of a Russian. You were too soft, too considerate, too woman-like before. You allowed me to bully you unmercifully without complaint, and that is wrong. No woman of my country ever believes that her man truly loves her unless he beats her now and then. Even the Empress Catherine has taken her beatings from the Orlofs' Potemkin and other favourites, and loved them for it all the more. Rojé Christorovitch, you are now my master and I your slave. Lie down here while I kneel at your feet and you, my lord, shall tell me how best I may pleasure you this night."

Roger knew then that he had achieved a victory beyond his wild­est dreams. Their reconciliation was in keeping with the violence of their previous feelings and when, at last, their emotions were spent Natalia Andreovna wept again; but this time from sheer joy, and in the small hours she sobbed herself happily to sleep in Roger's arms.

From then on everything about the four-day voyage went as merry as a marriage-bell. Roger came out into the open as Natalia's cavalier, and henceforth took his meals with her, the Captain, and two Secretaries of the Embassy, whom King Gustavus had compelled Count Razumof-sky to send home. One, Vladimir Paulovitch Lepekhin, was a tall, dark, amusing young man and the other, Dr. Drenke, was a fat, kindly, blue-eyed German of middle age, who had spent many years in the Russian service. Roger had, of course, already met both of them on numerous occasions, and together they formed a merry party.

The weather was excellent and the sea like a mill-pond. On the evening of Sunday, the 24th of Jiuie, they ploughed their way steadily up the Gulf of Finland, and late that night, dropped anchor in Crondstadt Bay. The following morning the Russian authorities came aboard and gave the Swedish frigate permission to proceed up the channel to St. Petersburg for greater convenience in landing Natalia Andreovna and her party. As a member of it Roger went ashore with the others, and by eleven o'clock, found himself at last in the Imperial city where lay the focus of his secret mission.

Natalia was in duty bound to take up her residence in the palace of her grandfather, Count Cyril Razumofsky. The Empress Elizabeth, whose lover he had been, had made him Herman of the Cossacks, and later he had played a leading part in the coup d'etatthat had placed Catherine on the throne. But he was now old, crotchety and abhorred strangers; so, although it had at first been mooted that Roger should be her guest there, they decided that it would be wiser for him to take lodgings in the city.

Naturally he refrained from saying so, but this suited him much better, as he was far from wishing to place himself in a situation where he would have to account to his beautiful mistress for all his comings and goings.

In the matter of a suitable lodging Dr. Drenke offered his assistance. He retained two rooms on the third floor of a house in a turning off the Nevsky, and thought that his landlord would be able to find Roger accommodation either in the same house or nearby. In con­sequence, having arranged with Natalia that she should let him hear from her through the Doctor, he took affectionate leave of her, and set off from the wharf in a droshkywith the amiable German.

Roger knew that St. Petersburg was still less than a hundred years old; that it had been built with immense labour, and at the cost of thousands of lives, on countless piles driven deep into the boggy marshes at the mouth of the Neva; and that this extraordinarily unsuitable site had been chosen for the city solely because Peter the Great had desired a capital in which he could supervise the building of his beloved Navy. He was, therefore, all the more astounded at its size and magnificence.

The only remaining traces of the marshes were the numerous canals and rivulets intersecting the city, and these were spanned at frequent intervals by stout wooden bridges gaily painted in different colours. Such narrow, twisting streets and noisome alleys as com­posed almost the whole of London, Paris and Stockholm were entirely absent, and even the open modern Danish capital was a mere model village compared to this splendid metropolis.

The main thoroughfares had been laid out with a prodigal disregard of space and were grand boulevards on a scale that he had never even imagined. On either side of them were raised footways, so that pedestrians could traverse the town dry-shod during the autumn floods. The majority of the smaller houses were made of the native timber, but on every side there arose vast palaces of stone which housed the Government departments and the families of the aristocracy.

When they arrived at the doctor's lodging they found that the first-floor suite, consisting of a bedroom and sitting-room, was free, and the landlord, a Courlander named Ostermann, agreed to let it to Roger for three roubles a week, which, as the rouble was then the equivalent of four shillings, he considered very cheap; but he was soon to learn that living in St. Petersburg was far less expensive than in London or Paris. He could have his meals sent in from a nearby pastrycook's and would provide his own servant, but Ostermann undertook to find one for Mm by that evening.

Roger knew that German was the language most frequently spoken in St. Petersburg, and he had already mastered it sufficiently to under­stand beyond chance of mistake when Ostermann asked him: "By what military rank shall I address your nobleness?"

He was about to reply "None," when Dr. Drenke intervened, and explained. "Since Russia is an autocracy every Russian is given a military grade. For example, the Empress's chief cook and chief coachman are both colonels. Since you are of noble birth you will auto­matically be classed as an officer, and you must get yourself an officer's cockade to wear in your hat, as you will find that all the common people pay great respect to that symbol. The usual practice with foreigners is to grade them on their income; so, tell me please, how much you are worth a year?"

Since it was essential to his mission to cut a good figure at the court, Roger thought it well to rate himself as a thousand-a-year man; so he replied, "Five thousand roubles."

"You are wealthy then," the doctor smiled, "and with such an income cannot be ranked as less than a Major-General." While Ostermann, obviously much impressed, made his new lodger a deep obeisance, then hurried away to carry up his baggage.

The doctor then invited Roger to dine with him, and they adjourned to the pastrycook's along the street". Roger had eaten caviare on a few occasions with Georgina, as a rare delicacy, but only the pressed variety which, packed in ice, was the kind then exported; but now he was given a plateful of the large grained grey ikra which comes from the Ural river, and he tucked into it most heartily. This rich hors d'ouvrewas followed by a hare, baked whole. While they made a skeleton of it the Doctor sent out to have some money changed for him, and when it came back, explained the values of the Russian currency.

A gold Imperial, their two-pound piece, was worth ten roubles, and a half-Imperial, five. The silver consisted of roubles, half-roubles, quarter roubles and twenty, fifteen and ten cent coins; the copper of five, two, one, a half, and even a quarter, kopecks; so there seemed to be a coin suitable to every possible requirement.

Doctor Drenke then went on to speak of the Russians and some of their customs. "So great a respect have they for St. Nicholas," he re­marked, "that they never pray to God except through him; and in the living-room of every house there is an ikonof the Saint, to which visitors are always expected to bow before greeting their host. On the other hand they are far from being a religious people in the western sense. They observe the celebrations of their church with much pomp, but do not give to their clergy, except for the higher dignitaries, the status of gentry. In the main they are drunken, untrustworthy, and extremely immoral. You will find a certain attraction about their childish, in­consequent gaiety, and they will tell you the most barefaced falsehoods in their eagerness to make a good impression on you; yet they will cheat you at every turn if they possibly can. The only way to earn their respect is by curses, kicks and blows, lavishly administered to men and women alike."

"I have already gathered that," Roger nodded. "I am told that Peter the Great used even to beat his Generals."

The Doctor laughed. " 'Tis true enough. And the Generals beat the Colonels, the Colonels the Majors, and so on down the line. The whole nation expects such treatment, and given it willingly work long hours for small reward. Thus, if properly disciplined, they make ex­cellent servants; and, despite the fundamental dishonesty of the Russian character, they are not given to thieving where money is concerned. It is to get something for nothing by the exercise of their wits that delights them, and they would leave a drawer of silver untouched while going to great pains to swindle you out of a few coppers."

As a great pancake bursting with cherry jam was placed on the table, the Doctor went on: "One thing greatly to their credit is the efficiency with which the police, keep law and order here. You will neither be pestered by swarms of mendicants, such as infest all other large cities, nor be in danger of having your pocket picked. There is a Ukaseforbidding begging, which is enforced most rigorously, and acts of robbery are almost unknown. The 'Residence' as the city is termed, is divided into ten districts, each of which has a police-president who is answerable for the safety and well-being of everyone living within it. By law, the doors of his house may not be locked either night or day, so that anyone who has suffered an injury may have immediate access to him, and he can send his assistants to apprehend the wrongdoer with­out delay. Moreover, five hundred night-watchmen are always on duty in watch-houses placed at the junctions of all the main thoroughfares, so you may walk the streets unarmed at any hour with perfect safety, as a single shout would be enough to bring one or more of them running to your assistance."

" 'Tis truly most admirably ordered," Roger remarked. "And far in advance of any measures taken to protect the lives and property of the citizens in the great capitals of the west."

The Doctor made a slight grimace. "Against it one must set the debit that, as the price of such security, the citizens of Petersburg have lost the freedom that most men count so dear. The vigilance of the police is so thorough that they know everybody's business. In fact it is the duty of the police-president of each district to be fully informed of the life and circumstances of every household, and for the purpose enor­mous numbers of police-spies are employed. Every innkeeper, and private person too, must give the police full particulars of all who come to lodge with them, and if a lodger stays out all night they must inform the police of it, at the latest on the third day of his absence, so that he can be traced up and come under police surveillance again."

"But that is monstrous," protested Roger. "Provided one keeps within the law, what right has the Government to pry into one's private comings and goings?"

" 'Tis the law," shrugged the Doctor, "and one must submit to it. The Empress is an autocrat in a sense which makes all other, so-called, autocratic monarchs mere puppets of their people. She is the legal owner of the entire country and everything in it. Even the great­est nobles only hold their lands, serfs and wealth by virtue of her pleasure. And she regards every one of her people as hers to dispose of as she sees fit; therefore she considers it not only her right but her duty, as the mother of them all, to have available at any time she may require it a full account of their most intimate affairs."

"Does this also apply to foreigners while they are in her country?"

"Most certainly; and before you leave Petersburg you must insert in the news-sheets three weeks running your name, quality and abode, advertising your intention to depart; since until you have done so you will not be granted a passport permitting you to quit the country. The measure is designed to prevent strangers slipping away with their debts unpaid, and so has much to recommend it."

Roger nodded, thinking to himself that, while it had proved easy enough to get into Russia, it might not be quite so simple to get out again.

When they had finished their meal they left the pastrycook's, and the Doctor having affairs of his own to attend to, Roger declared it his intention to hire a droshkyand go for a drive round the city. The Doctor found him a driver who understood German, and after genially offering his services at any time Roger required them, saw him off.

For the best part of an hour Roger let his driver carry him at random along the broad streets and point out to him the principal objects of interest; among them, the Church of Kazan, the great bridge over the Neva, the Taurian Palace of Prince Potemkin, who had long since ceased to be the Empress's lover, but was still the most powerful man in Russia, and the gigantic equestrian statue of Peter the Great that Catherine had erected in front of the Admiralty. This amazing monument had been cut from the solid rock of a single meteorite— measuring twenty-one feet in height, thirty-four in breadth and forty-two in length—which had been found in the marshes outside the city, and, despite its immense weight, dragged eight miles to the place of its erection. The particulars of the almost insurmountable difficulties which had been overcome to achieve this extraordinary undertaking made a deeper impression on Roger of the powers commanded by Russia's remarkable ruler than had anything else in her magnificent capital.

At length, feeling that he had allowed sufficient time to elapse to disguise his true intention, he told his driver that he had had enough of sight-seeing for one day, and wished to be driven to the English Factory.

A quarter of an hour later he paid the man off outside the entrance to a great jumble of buildings down by the docks. The factory con­sisted mainly of a series of spacious warehouses in which all mer­chandise arriving from Britain was stored pending its distribution to various parts of Russia; but three sides of its principal courtyard were occupied by offices and living-quarters, and the fourth by a small stone church. On inquiring for the Reverend William Tooke, Roger was directed to a pleasant little house adjoining the church. There, in the broken English suitable to a Frenchman, he asked the servant who answered the door if her master was at home, and on giving his name as Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc, he was shown into a comfortable library on the ground floor.

Five minutes later the Reverend Mr. Tooke appeared. He was a robust man in the middle forties with a genial expression and rather studious air. During his wait Roger's eye had lit upon "The Loves of Othniel and Achsah," published in 1769, and several other handsomely bound volumes of which Mr. Tooke was the author; so he was prepared to find him of the intellectual rather than the hunting type of parson.

In excellent French the clergyman asked his visitor's business; upon which Roger apologised in English for having presented himself as a Frenchman, and produced Sir James Harris's letter.

Having read it Mr. Tooke smiled and said: "I am happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Brook; and, within certain limits, I will willingly be of service to you. However, I have now lived in Russia for some seventeen years; my three children have all been born and brought up here, and innumerable Russians, the Empress among them, have shown me much kindness. Therefore, I should be most loath to become involved in anything to the detriment of my adopted country."

"That, I can well understand, Sir," Roger agreed. "And 'tis far from my intent to burden you with any of my business. The sole re­quest I have to make is that from time to time you will be kind enough to pass on to Mr. Alleyne Fitzherbert any letters that I may give you, so that I should not be seen entering the British Embassy."

"If that is all you require I will do it with pleasure. Now sit down and join me in a glass of wine," replied his host, moving over to a row of decanters. "Is your preference for Sack, Madeira or Canary?"

Roger chose Madeira and, handing him a glass, the clergyman went on: "How long have you been in Russia, and what think you of the country?"

"I landed only this morning, Sir; so I have had little time to judge. The fine streets and buildings of the capital fill me with admiration; but, at first sight, the majority of its inhabitants strike me as exceed­ingly uncouth, and more like bears than men."

Mr. Tooke laughed. "Indeed, the lower orders here are not far removed from animals, and even their betters oft display a violence which we would regard as most reprehensible at home. Yet the Russians have their good points and one is their complete freedom from all bigotry. That has made my work here both pleasant and easy, which I well might not have found it had I taken a post as chaplain in some of the, so-called, more enlightened countries."

"Do they place no restrictions at all then on the practice of the Protestant faith?"

"None whatever, nor upon any other. And, in fact, the Russian Government's toleration has had such a beneficial effect that, instead of being at daggers drawn as we should be in any other country, the clergy of all sects work together here in the greatest harmony. I count many friends among the pastors of other denominations, and those of us who are of the Reformed religions meet together once a week to discuss how we may better the lot of our respective congregations. I have often preached by invitation in the Calvinist church; and, strange as it may seem to you, I once even stood sponsor at the christening of a Roman Catholic child, the priest very civilly omitting those questions from the service which he knew that my conscience would not allow me to answer in the affirmative."

"Indeed I find that most remarkable," Roger smiled, "when at home we still debar the Papists from entering any form of public life, and in many Catholic countries Protestants are still frequently the victims of persecution."

" 'Tis very different here. All men may hold such religious beliefs as they choose, and although the Empress herself is a strict follower of the Orthodox Greek Church she has recently appointed an Arch­bishop for her Catholic subjects, and established a serninary of Jesuits at Mohilef. This spirit of goodwill is even carried to the extent of Her Majesty's confessor, Ivan Pamphilief, giving a 'Dinner of Toleration’ each year on the 6th of January. At it the Metropolitan Gabriel presides, and the principal clergy of all religions are invited. On one occasion when, before the dinner, wines of various kinds were handed round on a salver, our host made a charming allusion to the widely divergent creeds of the assembled company, by remarking: 'These wines are all good; they differ only in colour and taste.' And that is the happy spirit which animates religion in this land which the western nations stig­matise as barbarous."

Roger nodded. " 'Tis certainly a much nearer approach to a true interpretation of the teaching of Our Lord than anything so far achieved elsewhere in Europe. Yet in other respects the Russians appear to be still only half-civilised. Their brutality is a by-word; and I gather that for quite insignificant faults they inflict punishments on their servants which we should consider ferocious."

"That I admit; yet a death-sentence is a rarer thing here than in most other countries."

"What though, Sir, of exile to Siberia? 'Tis said that thousands of hapless folk are despatched every year to drag out a miserable exist­ence in those icy wastes?"

Mr. Tooke made a deprecating gesture. "News of general conditions in such a distant country as Russia travels but slowly to the outer world. No doubt in England people still believe the state of things here to be much as they were in the days of Her Majesty's predecessor, the Empress Elizabeth. She was as great a tyrant as her father, Peter the First, yet lacking his originality and abilities. On her ascension to the throne in 1741, she took a vow never to resort to capital punish­ment, but since she was mean, cruel and suspicious by nature she allowed countless judicial atrocities to be committed in her name.

"In cases of suspected treason even inferior magistrates were em­powered to have prisoners' hands tied behind them to a rope by which they were then hoisted to the ceiling, let down with a jerk so that their arms were wrenched from their sockets, then knouted in that position to extract a confession. Quite frequently, too, innocent people were dragged from their beds in the middle of the night by her secret police and, without any form of trial, carried off into exile. 'Tis said that during the twenty years of her reign she banished over twenty thousand of her subjects to Siberia. But things are very different to-day. On coming to the throne the Empress Catherine forbade the use of all forms of torture, and although she sometimes sends those who have displeased her into exile, 'tis only on comparatively rare occasions. Her private life leaves much to be desired, but she is of a kindly disposition and rules with great humanity."

Roger was about to ask Mr. Tooke's personal impression of the Empress when heavy footfalls sounded in the passage outside, the door opened, and a rugged face surmounted by crisp, iron-grey hair was thrust round it.

"Your pardon, William!" the newcomer exclaimed on seeing Roger. "I was not aware that you had a visitor; and having delivered a parcel from my wife to your good lady, had thought that I would look in on you for a word before making my way home.

"Come in, Samuel, come in," cried Mr. Tooke; then, turning to Roger, he added in French. "Allow me to present you, Monsieur, to one of Her Majesty's most distinguished and devoted servants; Admiral Sir Samuel Greig, of the Imperial Russian Navy. Samuel, permit me to introduce Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc, a young Frenchman newly arrived in Petersburg."

The Admiral had advanced into the room. He was a stalwart, thick-set man in his early fifties. His weatherbeaten face was lit by a pair of impatient, flashing eyes. He looked a rough diamond, and when he spoke it was with abrupt forcefulness. Instead of return­ing Roger's bow he stared at him truculently for a moment, then bellow­ed with a heavy Scots accent.

"Young Frenchman, eh? Tell that to the Marines! I'll swallow my own anchor if he's not as much an Englishman as yourself. And you, young man! Tell me this instant what criminal intent leads you to come to Russia deceiving honest men into believing you a Frenchie?"

Chapter XIII

HELL'S KITCHEN

Taken completely off his guard, Roger remained tongue-tied for a moment. He had not the faintest idea what had led to this swift ' penetration of his incognito. He knew only that if the Admiral's loyalty to his Imperial Mistress proved greater than any sentimental ties he retained for the land of his origin, the game was up. He, Roger, could count himself lucky if no worse befell than for his mission to end before it had properly begun, by his ignominious and immediate expulsion from Russia. That was, unless he could somehow manage to bluff his way out of the extraordinarily unfortunate encounter.

He had often heard of Admiral Greig. Indeed, the intrepid sailor was regarded as almost as much of a hero in the country of his birth as in that of his adoption. He had commanded a division of the first Russian Fleet ever to enter the Mediterranean; and, although the Supreme Command had been vested in Count Alexis Orlof, the brother of the Empress's first great favourite, there were good grounds for believing that Greig and his fellow Scot, Rear-Admiral Elphinstone, were the real authors of the signal victory by which the Russians had annihilated the entire Turkish Fleet in the Bay of Chesme.

Since then, he had distinguished himself by leading numerous spectacular actions, and, between wars, had become, in all but name, Commander-in-Chief of the Russian Navy. His rise was all the more spectacular in that he had started his sea-career in merchant ships, then served before the mast in the British Navy for six years before being allowed to accept a Lieutenant's commission in the Russian service. He now held the rank of Grand Admiral; and the five great jewelled stars blazing upon his breast—denoting him to be a Knight of the Orders of St. Andrew, St. George, St. Vladimir, St. Anne and St. Alexander Nevski—were more than enough to show the unlimited faith that the Empress placed in him. To Roger, it seemed in the highest degree improbable that such a man would be prepared to abuse his mistress's confidence to the extent of allowing a spy to remain at large in her country.

His only course seemed to be to lie like a trooper, and pray that Mr. Tooke would not give him away; so, drawing himself up to his full six feet, he said haughtily: "You are under a sad misapprehension, Sir, and obviously mistake me for another. I have lived in England long enough to speak your language with some fluency, but my name is de Breuc, and I am a native of Strasbourg."

"Enough of such lying, boy!" snapped the Admiral. "I know you for what you are."

Hopelessly puzzled as to the reason for this unshakeable assur­ance, Roger could only stand his ground and take refuge in assumed anger.

"Since you give me the lie, Sir," he said sharply, "although you are my senior by many years, you leave me no alternative but to call you out."

The Admiral gave a great bellow of laughter, then shook his head with a humorous grin. " 'Tis easy to see that you have not been long in Petersburg, my young fire-eater. The Russians may be a backward people in many ways, but at least they realise the idiocy of settling differences of opinion by jabbing at each other with their swords. Should you slap a Russian's face he will hit you back or break his cane over your head; but you will not find one fool enough to submit him­self to a contest in which justice has no part, and the best swordsman, be he right or wrong, comes off victorious."

"Then, Sir," snapped Roger. "Should you persist in giving me the lie, my palm will itch so that it will inevitably make contact with your face."

With a slight cough the Reverend Mr. Tooke intervened.

"Gentlemen, this matter has gone far enough. Why you should imagine, Admiral, that the Chevalier is an Englishman I have no idea; but I trust you will be satisfied that he is a person of good standing when I tell you that he has brought me a letter of introduction from our old friend Sir James Harris."

Roger was filled with admiration for the extraordinarily tactful way in which the learned churchman had provided a bridge while skil­fully evading the point at issue. Mr. Tooke had made no admission that his visitor was not, to the best of his belief, a Frenchman, neither had he vouched for his integrity; but he had, by naming him a protegé of the ex-Ambassador, placed him at once on a respectable footing.

"Ah! Then I'll say no more," cried the Admiral with ready good

humour, but he added with a broad wink at Roger: "Except to ask the Chevalier to remember me most kindly to Admiral and Lady Brook, should his travels ever take him to a little town called Lymington."

With a friendly grin Roger hid his confusion at being so completely bowled out. Then, feeling that in the circumstances it would now be both churlish and stupid to persist in denying his true identity, he said. "I pray you pardon me, Sir, for my extreme rudeness, but I had good grounds for striving to preserve my incognito. Tell me now, I beg, how it comes about that you knew me the second you set eyes on me?"

The Admiral laughed. "You'd not remember me, but I've known you ever since you were a toddler, and I've a long memory for faces."

"I must confess I don't recall our meeting, Sir, though I've often heard my father speak of you with friendship and admiration. You served under him at the reduction of Havana, did you not?"

"Aye, that was way back in '62 and long before you were born, boy. Your father and I were much of an age and became firm friends despite the deck that lay between us. 'Twas he who persuaded our captain to recommend me as suitable for a commission when the Russians asked for a few British seamen to help train their fleet. Years later, when my squadron revictualled in England on our way round to Greece, he came aboard to see me, bringing both your mother and yourself. You were no more than a child of two then, but I saw you again at Lymington when you were about eight. You've altered little since then, except that you've grown into a fine figure of a man."

"I still marvel that you should have recognised me so instantly, Sir."

" 'Twas the similarity of the name coupled with those dark blue eyes of yours, lad. They are your mother's very own, and I fell in love with her for them the first second I saw her. But tell that to Lady Greig and I'll have you keel-hauled out in Cronstadt Bay. I still see your father on the rare occasions when I get leave to spend a few weeks in the old country, and it chances that he is not at sea himself. Can you tell me how fares it with him?"

"Why, yes, Sir. When I sailed from England towards the end of April I left him mightily well and in the best of spirits."

"Ah! The two of you are reconciled, then. I'm monstrous glad to hear it; for your defiance of him and running away to France near broke his heart."

Roger flushed. "So you knew of that, then?"

"He told me of it when I was last in England, two summers back; and I had not heard that you had since made your peace. 'Twas that which made me at first suspicious of your intentions here. I thought mayhap that you were still living by your wits, and had come to Russia in the guise of a Frenchman as a precaution against dis­gracing your own name, should you be caught while up to some nefar­ious business. But since you come sponsored by our good Sir James that puts a very different complexion on the matter. I trust that you left that handsome rascal also in good health?"

"In the very best, Sir. And, I am happy to report, about to be raised to the peerage as Baron Malmesbury, in recompense for his great services to the Crown."

"He well deserves the honour. 'Twould in fact have been earned alone by the splendid fight he put up while here against Frederick the Great's malign influence over the Empress."

"Let us then drink a glass of wine to his long enjoyment of his new title," put in Mr. Tooke.

"I thank you, William," the Admiral smiled. "I'd not say nay to a glass of your good dry" Sack."

When they had drunk the toast, they all sat down, and the Admiral gave Roger a shrewd glance, as he said: "I'll ask no questions as to your purpose here, and thereby invite no lies. But your posing as a Frenchman while bringing a secret introduction from Sir James to my old friend, suggests certain possibilities which, in my position, it is difficult to ignore."

"I appreciate that, Sir," Roger replied seriously, and the Admiral went on:

" Tis said that no man can serve two masters; yet we British— and there are quite a number of us here now that I have leavened the whole Russian Fleet with British officers—have, in effect, achieved an honourable compromise. Technically we are no more than loaned to the Russian Government and can be recalled at any time; but our recall could not be enforced, and many of us have made our homes here. Therefore, most of us feel that our first loyalty should be to the hand that feeds us and the land in which our fortunes lie; yet out of natural sentiment we have pledged ourselves never to take any action which would be definitely to the detriment of the land of our fathers.

"For example, during the last war the Empress was persuaded by her Minister, Count Panin, to form the League of Armed Neutrality, by which Russia, Sweden, Denmark, Austria and Prussia bound them­selves to defend their merchantmen from search for contraband of war being carried to Britain's enemies. Since Russia was the initiator of this pact she would normally have taken the foremost part in these anti-British activities; but whenever a Russian ship-o'-war commanded by a British officer appeared liable to be involved he put a blind eye to his telescope and sailed off in the opposite direction; thus render­ing Russia's part in the Armed Neutrality a nullity."

"Tell Mr. Brook what came about from the arrival of Paul Jones, Samuel," put in their host, "for that is a more recent example of our compatriots' feelings."

"Aye," the Admiral nodded. "You'll have heard of the English renegade who turned pirate and played the very devil with our mer­chantmen, in the American interest, during our war with the Colonies. When the fighting was over he found that persons of quality in the

United States had little time for such a rapscallion and traitor as him­self. So, greatly disgruntled, on learning of the outbreak of the new war 'twixt the Russians and the Turks, he came here to oiler his ser­vices to the Empress. He is a bold enough rascal, but ignorant, and never having directed the operations of more than one ship at a time, completely unfitted for high command. However, misled by tales of his courageous exploits Her Majesty was sufficiently ill-advised to offer him a high appointment in the Grand Fleet, which has been equipping these few months past at Cronstadt.

"Immediately I was informed of this I called a meeting of the senior British officers in the Fleet. Their opinion was unanimous. Not one of us were prepared to serve either with or under an ex-pirate and a man who had played traitor to his country. Some thirty of us went to the Empress in a body and resigned our commissions.''

"Well done, Sir," murmured Roger.

The Admiral chuckled. "That put the poor lady in a pretty fix; for such a step being utterly impossible to her own officers it had never entered her mind that we might undertake it. To accept our resignations would have immobilised the Grand Fleet, which is soon due to sail again under Count Orlof for Turkish waters; while to give way to our demand that the man Jones should be dismissed from her service would have created a precedent which might have had most serious repercussions among her own countrymen. She solved this unique challenge to her authority with her usual ability, by sending Jones as second-in-command to the small fleet in the Black Sea. But this little passage of arms is enough to show you that, although far from home and the servants of an autocrat, we British still reserve our right to use our own judgment in all that, we feel concerns us."

Roger smiled his most winning smile. "I've never doubted that, Sir, and I trust that in my own case, whatever you may suspect to be the object of my visit here, you will not disclose your thoughts to others."

"Not so fast, young man," the Admiral frowned. "If I catch you seeking information regarding the Fleet and its objectives in next winter's campaign against the Turks, I'll regard it as no less than my duty to the Empress to hang you from a yard-arm."

"You may be at rest on that score," Roger volunteered. "My mission is political and diplomatic rather than military. Indeed, I am charged to do no more than assess the feelings of the Court on various inter­national problems."

"Stick to such matters and I'll regard it as no affair of mine," said the Admiral gruffly. "But please to understand that the Fleet and the port of Cronstadt are barred to you."