Suddenly his despairing glance fell upon the vinegar-bottle on the table. He loathed vinegar, and even a dash of it in a sauce was enough to make his mouth dry up and the perspiration break out on his forehead. Grabbing the bottle, he tilted it to his mouth. In two, frightful, choking gulps he swallowed its whole contents.
His eyes bulged from his head, his stomach heaved with nausea. Fighting it down he lurched to the door and threw it open. Catherine had just got into bed, and she drew aside the curtain to smile a welcome. Only a nightlight was now burning in the room but its steady glow was sufficient for her to see his condition.
Leaning against the doorpost for support, he gasped out: "Succour me I begl I am faint, dizzy, near collapse" My stomach burns! I think I have been poisoned!"
In a moment she had thrown aside the bedclothes and came hurrying towards him.
Through her thin nightdress he glimpsed her squat repulsive body. Her legs and thighs were swollen to such a size that it seemed a miracle that her little feet could still carry her. As she reached him the sweat was pouring down his face and the tears streaming from his eyes. He retched, staggered out into the boudoir and collapsed upon a chair.
Seizing the silver soup-tureen she held it for him while he vomited. When he got back his breath he panted. "Your—your pardon, Madame. Someone must have known of your—your intent to honour me. And— and out of jealousy put poison in the claret you—you refused at supper —knowing that you never drink it. I—I beg you to allow me to retire— and to send your doctor to me."
Without a word she hurried back to her room and picking up a handbell rang it vigorously. As he was being sick again she returned with a chamber-robe now pulled over her nightdress, to hold his head, and, a moment later, two of her ladies-in-waiting ran in.
Concealing her annoyance, she now spoke kindly to him, smoothing his hair and soothing him like a mother, as she begged him not to distress himself on her account. With quiet efficiency she gave brief orders to her women. They assisted him down the staircase to his room, helped him to undress to his shirt, and tucked him up in bed.
They had hardly done so when the old German who had given him his medical examination arrived upon the scene. He looked at Roger's tongue, felt his pulse, gave him an emetic, and waited by the bedside until he was sick again. After examining the nauseous mess the doctor told the two women that they might return to Her Majesty and report that the patient was in no grave danger. He intended to give him a sleeping-draught and had good hopes that he would be recovered by the morning.
The ladies-in-waiting tiptoed away and, much against his will, Roger was compelled to swallow the draught. The doctor then lit a nightlight, blew out the candles that the women had lighted, and softly left the room.
Roger lay quiet for a few moments. He still felt shaken and queasy but he knew that he dare not remain inactive for very long, or the deeping-draught might overcome him. His eleventh-hour inspiration to make himself ill had saved him from his terrible dilemma and given him a real chance to escape. It was only a little after ten and unlikely that anyone would come to inquire after him till six, so he reckoned that he had the best part of eight hours before him. His money, sword, pistols and travelling-clothes were there beside the bed. If he could succeed in getting out of the palace unchallenged he should be able to reach Oranienbaum well before dawn. There, his gold would enable him to bribe the captain of a coaster to take him along the south shore of the Gulf of Finland to Reval, without asking any awkward questions. At the bigger port there should be no difficulty in finding a neutral ship that would carry him to Sweden. By far the worst fence that he had to surmount was getting out of the palace undetected, as he had only the scantiest knowledge of its geography and not the faintest idea where the sentries would be stationed. But he was full of resolution now and, if caught, meant to attempt to fight his way out rather than tamely submit to capture.
His head buzzing with these new plans, he sat up. As he did so he suddenly saw that the door leading onto the corridor was slowly opening. A white-clad figure glided inside. The nightlight flickered as he moved and shimmered on the ash-blonde hair of Natalia Andreovna.
Closing the door carefully behind her, she ran across the room and, with a little gulp, flung herself full length on the bed beside him. Surprised, annoyed, and acutely worried by this new complication he put his arms round her without enthusiasm, and waited for her to speak.
After sobbing wildly for a few moments she began to choke out bitter reproaches. "Oh, Rojé Christorovitch, how could you! How could you bring yourself to do such a thing when you know how much I love you?"
"Do what?" he inquired tersely.
"Why pay court to that horrible old woman, and induce her to take you as her lover." ,
He was itching to be on his way, and the last thing he wanted was to be delayed by a lengthy explanation with Natalia. Yet, even as he sought for the quickest means of getting rid of her, it occurred to him that she might prove a most valuable ally in his escape. He had meant to go out by one of the windows, but it was certain that sentries would be patrolling the terrace and grounds. She would be able to tell him where they were stationed or, perhaps, better still, give him the password for the night, so that he could walk confidently out of one of the doors.
"I learned of it but ten minutes back," Natalia went on tearfully. "All of us were still up at a table of cards when she rang her bell for the two ladies in immediate attendance. On their return they told us what had occurred, and they had your name from the Empress herself. Oh, Roje Christorovitch, I would have secured your freedom had you but been patient. Did I not vow that I would do so? How could you conceive so hideous an idea as to get someone to arrange for you to be brought before her, so that you might deliberately tempt her with your looks, merely to escape another week or so in prison?"
"I did no such thing," Roger assured her, now tightening his embrace. "The thing was sprung upon me a few hours back without a word of warning. Even so I managed to evade her embrace. I...."
Suddenly he paused. A footfall had sounded on the top step of the spiral stairs. Next moment there came the voice of the Empress. "To whom are you talking? Who is that with you down there?"
The footfalls came again, almost at a run. They were both staring up from under the canopy of the bed at the dimly-lit corner of the ceiling. Before they had time to move apart, the white blob of a face showed, peering down at them over the carved banister-rail.
With a cry of fear Natalia wriggled off the bed. Roger drew the sheets up round him. Like the knell of doom the Empress's footfalls echoed hollowly as she descended the remaining stairs. As she approached the bed Natalia floundered into a trembling curtsey.
"Sol" said Catherine coldly." 'Tis the Baroness Stroganof who thinks fit to pay midnight visits to the chamber in which her mistress lodges her own chosen friends."
She swung upon Roger. "And you, Chevalier! It seems that you have made a remarkably quick recovery, that you are well enough so soon to wanton with one of my ladies!"
Thrusting aside the clothes, Roger slipped out of the far side of the bed. Picking up his cloak, that was lying on a chair nearby, he drew it round him; then he came round the foot of the bed and bowed to her.
He had seen at once that the only course now was to make a clean breast of matters, so he said gravely: "Your Majesty has less cause than you can realise for anger. This is no spontaneous amour of the moment in which you have surprised us. I told you, Madame, of my love-affair in Sweden that led to Count Yagerhom's attack on me. The Baroness Stroganof was the lady then concerned. I accompanied her to Russia and for the past two months we have been lovers here. 'Twas but natural that, hearing of my condition, the Baroness should come to see for herself how I fared."
The Empress looked down at Natalia and said coldly: "I recall now that 'twas you who first presented the Chevalier to me, at Count Orlof's reception. Is what he says the truth? Do you love him?"
"With all my h
eart, Madame," she whispered. "I had meant to seek a favourable opportunity of pleading with you to exercise your mercy, and give him his freedom."
The clothes that Roger had been wearing that evening were lying on a couch at the foot of the bed. Taking the two parchments from the pocket of the coat and picking up the star of St. Vladimir, he bowed again and offered them to Catherine, with the words:
"Here, Madame, is the title to the estate and the Order that you so generously gave me. Here, too, is the pardon which I fain would have kept. But I pray you take them all. I surrender my future into the keeping of God and your Majesty."
Catherine could have annulled all three by a word, but it was a splendid gesture, and she was not the woman to be outdone. With a regal sweep of her hand she cried: " 'Tis not our habit to give a thing one moment and take it back the next. Had the Baroness come to us with the truth she could have had your pardon. As for the other things we are not so poor that we cannot afford to pay well for a good evening's conversation. Keep them as mementoes of your visit to our Court."
As Roger went down on one knee she turned to Natalia.
"Rise child, and go to your room now. Your sovereign has loved enough to know the pains of it, and she still comes by lovers with too great an ease to wish to spoil your romance. You may tell your companions that they may aid your preparations; for 'tis our pleasure that you should be married to the Chevalier to-morrow morning."
Natalia and Roger came abruptly to their feet. She gave a cry of joy; he a gasp of dismay. But Catherine had not yet shot her final bolt. Her voice becoming a shade colder she went on:
"We have no desire to be reminded of this episode, so will dispense with the further attendance of either of you upon our person. 'Tis our will that after the ceremony you should depart forthwith, to take up your residence in any town of your choice—provided it be situated in Siberia."
CHAPTER XIX
LIKE A SHEEP TO THE SLAUGHTER
ROGER sat on the edge of the bed, a prey to the most shattering emotions. The Empress and Natalia had gone. He had joined his bride-to-be, with apparent sincerity, in rendering thanks for mercy to the arbitress of their fates because he had seen no other course to take. He supposed that, as a lady-in-waiting and the appointed lover of the Empress caught in one another's arms, they had got off very lightly by merely being sent to reside where they liked in Arctic Russia. And Catherine had no means of knowing that he had grown to hate Natalia Andreovna, so her decree that they should marry had, in the circumstances, been a most humane and generous gesture.
Yet, for him, her orders amounted to a savage double sentence. The thought of Siberia was, in itself, bad enough. Its terrible desolation; the incredible cold which was said to hold all life there in its grip for eight months of every year; the miserable little towns composed solely of wooden buildings; the lack of cultured society; its uncouth, fur-clad, bear-like inhabitants; the vast distance that it lay from all the capitals of the civilised world. And, in his case, the hardship of exile to this remote and barren land was to be accentuated a hundred-fold by being permanently tied to a cruel and violent woman to whom he was hardly even physically attracted any longer.
Had he been himself, the moment the two women had left himhe would have pulled on his clothes and made his bid to escape. As it was he was still feeling sick and giddy, and his mind was half-stunned by the succession of violent shocks that it had sustained. He lost several precious moments before he began to dress, wondering if he dared beg the Empress to rescind her order that he should marry Natalia, and he had only just finished dressing when the chance to get away was suddenly reft from him.
Old Katerina Ivanovna suddenly walked in, slammed the door behind her, then stood there for three whole minutes, cursing him for the idiotic way in which he had allowed an intrigue with a lady-in-waiting to ruin his golden prospects with the Empress.
He was too tired to attempt any explanation; and when the old harridan told him to leave his things where they were and come with her, he obediently followed her out into the corridor.
She led him past the entrance of the Court theatre and up some stairs to a landing on which two sentries were pacing to and fro. Opening a door, she led him into a comfortably furnished bedroom; then she said:
"You will sleep here. Your marriage will take place at Her Majesty's usual chapel-hour to-morrow, and she will honour you with her presence. On peril of your life you will say nothing to anyone of what has taken place to-night, or that you have been ordered into exile. The Empress is always most averse to any scandal in connection with her love-affairs, and has forbidden her ladies to mention the matter. The public ceremony is designed to counteract any rumours that she threw her cap at you and you threw it back at her. Had it been myself that you had so insulted I would have had you beaten with the battaguesuntil your backbone was a pulp." Having delivered herself of these malicious sentiments, she left him.
Going to the window he saw that it looked out on a small interior courtyard to which there was no exit, and that it was. a twenty-foot drop to the flagstones below. Even if he could have accomplished the descent without breaking his neck he now had neither his money nor his sword with him, so he was forced to abandon as hopeless any further thought of escape.
Wearily pulling off his clothes he tumbled into bed and lay there turning over wildly impossible schemes for evading the hateful marriage that had been arranged for him. After a while the sleeping-draught took effect and he fell into a troubled slumber, in which he dreamed that he had fallen through a hole in the ice of a frozen river, and that Natalia Andreovna was standing on the bank laughing at his futile efforts to save himself from drowning.
He was awakened by two footmen, one of whom drew back the curtains and began to tidy the room while the other brought him breakfast. He ate it in a half-dazed state while grimly going over in his mind the nerve-racking events of the preceding night. No sooner had he finished than the German doctor came in. Having examined Roger and pronounced him fit to resume his normal activities, he spent some time in questioning him as to what he had eaten the day before, in a fruitless effort to trace the cause of the attack. When he had gone the two footmen returned with Roger's baggage and offered to help him dress. Only then did he realise that he had been left to sleep late and that it was already half-past nine. A quarter of an hour later a barber arrived to do his hair, and on the completion of his toilette the two Chevalier guards who had escorted him from Schlusselburg appeared.
Whether or not they knew of the great elevation that had been planned for him they said nothing of it; but they smilingly congratulated him on having received his pardon and on his forthcoming marriage. A tray with wine, vodka and pastries stuffed with caviare was then brought in and his visitors drank his health.
After two glasses of wine he felt somewhat better; but, rack his brains as he would, he could still think of no way to escape making the green-eyed Baroness Stroganof into Mrs. Roger Brook; and now there was no further time to do so, as one of his companions remarked that the hour had come for them to proceed to the chapel.
As they left the room Roger placed himself between them and they took him through the covered passage that led to the parent palace, then along several corridors till they reached a pair of doors that opened into the Imperial basilica.
A huge painting of God the Father occupied the whole ceiling and a row of gilt Ionic columns soared to it on either side, but an incongruous note was struck by the walls being covered with tawdry and ill-executed pictures of Russian saints. A gilt rail ran across its far end, in front of the great gilded doors of the sanctuary, and the body of the chapel was already filled with the Empress's brilliantly-clad household.
On Roger's entrance the ceremony opened with solemn vocal music, no other being permitted in the Greek church, but two double lines of richly-robed choristers made up amply for the deficiency. His companions conducted him to the rail and he had scarcely reached it when a stir behind him caused him to
turn his head. Followed by half-a-dozen young women of her own age, Natalia Andreovna was advancing towards him. She was dressed in white brocade, the figuring of which was outlined in gold thread; on her head she wore a big hooped headdress sparkling with gold and jewels.
Despite all his bitter thoughts of her Roger felt his breath catch at the sight of her loveliness.
As he bowed to her the voices of the choristers swelled to a mighty-paean and the Empress entered. On reaching the rail she passed through it by a gate and took her place alone under a richly-decorated canopy to the south side of the holy doors. They swung open displaying the penetralia of the temple; a picture of the descent from the Cross and an altar covered with golden tissue. A number of venerable, long-bearded priests, wearing vestments and bun-like mitres that blazed with precious stones, then appeared. By the Greek ritual no one is allowed to sit in church, so there were no seats, even for the Empress; but as the ceremony proceeded, the congregation seemed in a state of almost constant genuflexion as it responded to the prayers and loud ejaculations of the priests.
Roger found himself dipping with the rest. Someone had given him a long candle to hold and produced a ring. Crowns were held over their heads; as in a dream he repeated a number of phrases after the most gorgeously-clad priest, was given a Bible to kiss and placed the ring on Natalia's finger.
He wondered if he was now really married to her or if he could regard this alien service as not binding upon him. But he recalled the Reverend William Tooke having told him how he had once stood sponsor at the christening of a Roman Catholic child, and feared that his having gone through this ceremony with apparent willingness must make it as legal as any other.
Nevertheless these thoughts gave him an idea, and while the chanting and genuflecting continued he swiftly developed it. At last the priests retired within the temple and the holy doors swung to behind them. As the Empress left her place Roger watched her anxiously. He had a boon to ask, but having observed the air of devout humility that she had affected during the service, he feared that she might take it ill if he threw himself on his knees before her while she was still in church.
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree rb-2 Page 43
