The Shadow of Tyburn Tree rb-2

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by Dennis Wheatley


  Roger had no intention of ill-treating the pretty little creature, but, seeing that slave-owning was the custom of the country, the idea of having one of his own rather amused him. He expected to be in Russia for several months at least, and twenty pounds did not seem excessive for the outright purchase of a human being. Yet he felt that he would be regarded as easy game, and in future be constantly cheated by his landlord over other matters, if he did not make a show of driving a bargain. So he declared that the price was outrageous.

  "Indeed it is not!" Ostermann spread out his hands. "The noble General has no doubt heard tales that we are all cheats here; but in „ this case he need have no fears. If, Sir, you had not been brought here by Doctor Drenke I should consider it my right to ask a far higher sum, but I dare not; for if the Doctor learned that I had robbed his friend he would beat me black and blue."

  This naive confession both amused and somewhat reassured Roger, but he still shook his head; upon which Ostermann cried: "A hundred roubles is a great deal of money, I know, but she is worth every denushkaof it! I would rather break my own neck than be the means of installing here some slut who might give the noble General a loathe-some disease, and I defy anyone to find for him at a lesser sum a girl of such looks who is still a virgin."

  Such an aspect of the deal had not even entered Roger's head, and his surprised laugh was taken by Ostermann as a sign of disbelief so the Courlander hurried on: "I beg you, noble General, to examine the girl for yourself. Her father is an honest man and will wish you to

  do so before the money is paid over. She will wish it too, that she may have the pleasure of proving to her father that she has led a chaste life."

  Roger shook his head. "I thank you, but I asked you to provide me with a servant, not a child to sleep with."

  Ostermann shrugged. "She is fully ready to become a woman as soon as the noble General chooses to make her one. Naturally so hand­some a gentleman will have many ladies to visit him, and at such times Zaria Feodorovna can sleep in one of the attics. At other times she will always be at your disposal; and if on coming home drunk late at night her presence annoys you, 'twill prove easy enough for you to kick her out of bed. When the cold weather comes 'tis essential that you should have someone to warm your bed for you; everyone does here. Look at it which way you will, noble General, the offer is a genuine bargain."

  Feeling it futile to raise further objections Roger unlocked the brass-bound coffer in which he kept his funds, produced some Swedish gold pieces equivalent in value to one hundred roubles, and somewhat to his embarrassment, completed the formalities of Zaria's purchase. The hitherto silent peasant kissed him on the shoulder and, through Ostermann, expressed his happiness at having found for his daughter such a rich and handsome young master; then the girl snatched awk­wardly at Roger's hands and falling on her knees kissed them, show­ing by her eagerness that she was a willing partner to the deal.

  Roger told Ostermann that he wished her to go out and fetch him a light supper of cold chicken and a bottle of red wine; and after much bowing and scraping they left him, all breaking into an excited chatter in Russian the second they were outside his door.

  As their voices faded down the stairs he began to pull off his clothes. Then, while he changed into a light silk chamber-robe, he considered a trifle dubiously how he could best disembarrass himself of the more private services which Zaria Feodorovna evidently expected to render him. She would, he thought, in due course make somebody an admirable wife or mistress, but he had no desire whatever for a child-concubine, and he wondered now if he had not been a little rash in allowing him­self to be persuaded into buying a female slave. He had gone through with the deal mainly because he was tired out and it had seemed easier to acquiesce, and acquire a willing little maidservant than wait until the next day to find a man whom he would have to beat and bully. It occurred to him somewhat belatedly that Zaria Feodorovna might prove hurt and resentful at his indifference; so he could only hope that she would see the sense of keeping her virginity until he dispensed with her services, as an additional asset with which to catch a husband.

  A quarter of an hour later she returned with his supper, and Ostermann accompanied her to act as translator for any orders that Roger might wish to give on initiating her into his service. Having shown her where he kept his things and stated his requirements about brush­ing his clothes and cleaning his boots, he asked Ostermann to explain to her that he thought her too young, as yet, to be any man's bed­fellow, and that he wished her to sleep in the attic until she grew a little older.

  The result was a sudden crimsoning of the apple-hued cheeks, followed by a deluge of tears and heartrending lamentations. Ostermann translated her sobbing protests as despair at having failed to find favour in her master's eyes. She had, it seemed, fallen in love with him on sight and believed herself to be the luckiest girl in all Russia, whereas, at his words, he had made her the most miserable.

  Roger saw that there was only one thing for it. Taking the bundle of noisy woe in his arms, he drew her onto his knees, where he petted her like the child she was and kissed the tears away. Then he made her a present of a rich silk scarf, which delighted her beyond measure, and packed her off, greatly consoled, with Ostermann, to her attic.

  Just as they were leaving the room the loud boom of a cannon reverberated through the city, and thinking that it might be an alarm signal of some kind, Roger called after Ostermann, asking him if he knew its cause.

  " 'Tis nought but the night-gun, noble General," replied the Courlander. "Few of the common people in Petersburg are rich enough to own a watch and many are so ignorant that they cannot read the public clocks even when they can see them; so at this season of the year when there are no hours of darkness a gun is fired from the fortress each evening to let them know that the night has begun."

  It was still broad daylight but Roger had been up since half-past five that morning, and his experiences of the day had been so new and varied that he felt more than ready for bed. After despatching a wing of the chicken and a glass of wine he locked the door and went into the bedroom. Almost half of it was occupied by a broad divan; it had no sheets but was covered with innumerable layers of rugs. Pulling the heavy curtains across the window he settled himself on the divan, drew its topmost rug over him, and was almost instantly asleep.

  But not for very long. He woke with a start and the instinctive feeling that it was still early in the night. He knew already that a movement beside him had been the cause of his waking, and the faint light percolating between the chinks of the curtains was sufficient to show him a hump under the rug, from the edge of which protruded a tumble of crisp black curls that could only belong to Zaria Feodorovna.

  How she had got in he could not imagine, and it was not until the following morning that he learned that she had climbed up to the fan­light of the door that gave onto the landing, then succeeded in squeez­ing herself through. Evidently terrified that he might send her packing again if she so much as showed her face, she lay as still as a mouse buried in the rugs. Daunted at the idea of starting a fresh argument in a language that he did not understand, Roger took the path of least resistance, turned over on his other side, and went to sleep again.

  When he awoke in the morning she was no longer beside him, but subdued sounds from the sitting-room told him that he had not dreamed her midnight appearance, and, shortly afterwards, she brought him in his breakfast.

  Her down-cast eyes and trembling hands were clear evidence of her shyness, but she now showed no servility, and he soon found that she possessed the natural tact and good manners which grace most of the peasantry of Europe. As he had now landed himself with her it seemed to him that the sooner he could teach her to understand him the better; so, on getting up, he amused himself for an hour pointing at various things and giving her a first French lesson by making her repeat their names in that language after him.

  The lesson was terminated only by the arrival of Doctor Drenke, who broug
ht Roger a note from Natalia Andreovna, in which she said that she proposed to visit him at two o'clock that afternoon. While Roger read the note the Doctor addressed a few casual sentences in Russian to Zaria after which he congratulated her master on acquiring her. He then carried Roger off to the morning levee of Count Bezborodko, the head of the College of Foreign Affairs.

  At the levee, as well as presenting Roger to the Count, who talked to him for a few moments on Sweden, the Doctor also introduced him to several members of the Corps Diplomatique; all of whom asked him to breakfast, dine or sup, so by the time he left the reception he found himself already launched in Petersburg society.

  That afternoon, Natalia appeared at his lodgings cloaked, hooded and wearing a little lace mask, as was then the custom of ladies who wished to preserve their incognito when visiting their gallants. Unfortunately she arrived a good quarter of an hour before she was expected so he had not yet dismissed Zaria, who was seated in a corner of the sitting-room diligently polishing the silver buttons of one of his coats.

  No sooner did the green eyes of Roger's aristocratic mistress light upon his pretty little slave than their expression changed from joyous anticipation to indignant anger. Instantly assuming the worst she advanced on him with a spate of curses and soundly boxed his ears; then, vowing in both French and Russian that she would kill the girl if she ever found her there again, she grabbed up Roger's cane and drove the unfortunate Zaria screaming from the room.

  Roger swiftly endeavoured to disabuse Natalia of her black sus­picions, but she knew the ways of her country better than he did; his denials of having slept with Zaria the previous night were so lack­ing in conviction that she obviously did ndt believe him, and it took him a considerable time to pacify her.

  In the past week she had come as near to loving Roger as she was capable of feeling that passion for any man, and this had resulted in redoubling her natural tendency to jealousy; but so true is it that, given mutual attraction, to start with, love will almost inevitably beget love, the effect of their voyage from Sweden on Roger had been to make him excuse her worst characteristics to himself and come near to loving her in return. In consequence, the genuine concern he displayed at having upset her, and the undiminished warmth of his amorous feelings, were such, that the subject of Zaria Feodorovna was at length allowed to lapse by mutual consent, and a passionate reconciliation ensued.

  When Natalia had departed, after having promised to come again the following afternoon, Roger began to wonder if his little maid would return to him, or had abandoned him for good from fear of being beaten to death by his virago of a mistress. But he need not have concerned himself; Zaria's courage was equal to her swiftly-acquired devotion to him, and on his returning from keeping a supper-engagement made that morning, he found her curled up sound asleep in his bed.

  Having more or less promised Natalia Andreovna that he would dismiss the child, he made a half-hearted attempt to do so next day. But, with Ostermann as interpreter, she declared that rather than face the shame of returning to her father she would drown herself in the Neva. Roger, not having the heart to drive her away, told her that she might remain, provided she was never visible in his apartments between mid­day and midnight except when sent for; and salved his conscience for the lies he would have to tell Natalia with the thought that she would equally readily have lied to him. Within a few hours he had dis­missed the matter from his mind and settled down to enjoy life in St. Petersburg.

  For this he was given ample opportunity, as half a dozen invitations reached him on his second day in the capital from Doctor Drenke's friends in the College of Foreign Affairs, and each party he attended produced a shower of others. True, many of them were from adven­turers and scallywags whose only object was to lighten his purse, but forewarned by Mr. Tooke and Admiral Greig, he succeeded in protect­ing himself from all but minor losses and, in the meantime, ate freely and well in the best taverns, several of the Embassies, and the houses of nobles and rich merchants.

  In his role of a Frenchman he naturally took an early opportunity of paying his respects at the French Embassy. He had already learned that the Ambassador was the Comte de Segur and the son of the old Marshal of that name whom he had known as Minister of War during his time in Paris. The acquaintance, slight as it was, but backed up by his more recent ones with the Baron la Houze and the Marquis de Pons, would, he felt sure, be sufficient to secure the Comte's agree­ment to presenting him at the Russian Court. But here he met with a disappointment as de Segur was temporarily absent from St. Peters­burg on a fishing expedition to Lake Ladoga.

  Natalia Andreovna came masked to his lodging every afternoon, and towards the end of the week, announced that the Empress had appointed her one of her ladies-in-waiting. Roger was delighted at this news as, despite his physical attachment to her, he had no inten­tion of allowing any scruples to prevent him from using her to further his mission; and since she was to be situated so close to the Empress he hoped to learn from her all the inner gossip of the Court. Moreover, in view of the French Ambassador's absence, it offered another avenue to a speedy presentation; so he asked her if she could arrange some means by which he could make his bow to the Empress.

  "Oh, nothing could be easier," Natalia replied, stretching out a supple arm to reach for a bon-bon from a box that lay beside the divan. "She prides herself on being accessible to all, and takes especial de­light in receiving foreigners. You must come to the entertainment that Alexis Orlof is giving for her on Monday evening, and I will present you to her myself."

  "Can you get me an invitation?" Roger asked.

  "Indeed I can. You could walk in if you wished, as half the town will be there and the more people that attend the better pleased the High Admiral will be. But as you are a stranger I will ask him to send you a card. He is an old friend of mine. In fact, I am inclined to believe that he is the father of my daughter, for the child is growing monstrous like him."

  Roger turned over and stared at her in surprise. She was lying on her back contentedly munching the large, sticky sweet, and evidently did not consider that there was anything particularly startling about her announcement, as she went on quite casually: "Since One-Eye is at the wars Alexis is back in favour again; though I doubt whether he cares much one way or the other these days, and he leaves it to Bezborodko to advise the Empress on most affairs of State."

  "Whom do you mean by One-eye?" Roger asked.

  It was she who now looked surprised. "You are monstrous slow not to recognise it as the nickname of Prince Potemkin."

  "How should I, when I have never seen him?"

  "Ah, forgive me, dear one! I had forgot that your arrival here is so recent and that it is quite a while since he left the Residence to command the armies that are fighting the Turk. He lost his eye when the Empress first took him into favour. Until then Gregory Orlof had the ordering of everything and remained Catherine's chief confidant, as those who succeeded him in her bed were little more than hand­some puppets. But so puffed up with pride did Potemkin become that, one night while playing a game of billiards, he boasted of his power to dispose of all offices about the Court. Gregory's brother, Alexis, was present and promptly put out the new favourite's eye with a billiard cue. That was fourteen years ago, and 'tis the reason why he has ever since carried his head on one side with the look of a knowing parrot."

  "He has performed no small feat in retaining for so long his influence over so fickle a woman as the Empress."

  "The Orlofs have retained theirs for near double that time. 'Tis all but twenty-six years since by the coup d'etatthey raised her to the throne."

  "But Gregory is dead now, is he not?"

  "Yes. He died some four years ago. 'Twas a curious coincidence that Catherine should have lost both him and Count Panin, the other ringleader in the conspiracy, who was her principal minister for so long, within a month of one another. Prince Gregory spent much of his later life travelling in great magnificence, and towards the end he became
near unhinged from the premature death in Switzerland of his beauti­ful young niece."

  "Was he so devoted to her?"

  "He positively worshipped her, and had married her but a short time previously."

  Roger raised his eyebrows. It was borne in upon him more strongly every day that these Russians were, beyond all prediction, unprin­cipled; and that his lot was now cast in a veritable hell's kitchen. But Natalia was going on with complete unconcern. "Yet the family influence never waned, as Count Alexis had been Catherine's lover, like his brother, and he is still a power to be reckoned with."

  "Have none of the other favourites been men of mark?" Roger inquired.

  Natalia considered for a moment. "Nay, none of them; except perhaps Lanskoi. Now he was a true Prince Charming; so good-looking that as a girl I lost my heart to him completely, and of so sweet a dis­position that, having not a single enemy of his own, he would even go out of his way to render services to those of his patron, Prince Potemkin. Eighty-four was a bad year for Her Majesty; since, in it, she lost not only Gregory Orlof and Nikita Panin, but Lanskoi also. She utterly adored him, and so distraught with grief was she that she refused all food for several days and remained for three months shut up in her palace at Tzarskoi-selo refusing all consolation."

  " 'Tis quite a revelation that the modern Messalina is, after all, possessed of a heart and capable of such deep feeling," smiled Roger cynically.

  Jerking herself up Natalia clapped a hand over his mouth and cast a frightened glance towards the door.

 

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