"Pray pardon me, Madame," he called up. "I hesitated to join your Majesty only from bashfulness."
As he recrossed the room to mount the stairs his wits were working fast again. He thanked his stars now that she had called him when she had. It would have been madness to attempt to escape at the very moment she had given an order for him to present himself. He must choose a, time when he could be reasonably certain of a few hours clear start before his absence was discovered. Perhaps later to-night.
But to-night, yes—to-night he would be. . . . He swallowed" and, as he mounted the staircase, strove to force himself to face the facts. If he refused her she might yet have him executed for Yagerhorn's murder. One unpalatable amorous encounter seemed a small price to pay to gain the time to make a favourable bid for life and freedom. It looked as though he must screw himself up to go through with it. The pleasuring of her might not prove as nauseating as he expected. If so he might perhaps succeed in blindfolding his mind to it in future, and even yet sway the destinies of millions from a chair beside her throne.
She was standing at the top of the stairway dressed in a loose robe and underskirt of flowered silk. The robe was cut very full so as to conceal her heavy figure, and its sleeves were short, ending in wide-mouthed ruffles which enabled her to display her plump, and still pretty, forearms to advantage. On her hair was set a jaunty little lace cap. The only jewel she wore was a star with eight points, alternatively of gold and silver, which dangled from her neck on a black ribbon with a red stripe down its centre.
As she held out both her hands to him he took them at once and kissed them one after the other, declaring it impossible to express the depth of his feelings at the supreme honour that she intended him. He knew she would expect that; and if he was to play either for time or for the permanent power that she could bestow upon him, he must throw himself wholeheartedly into the part of a young man who was utterly amazed by the turn in his fortunes but overwhelmed with delight.
After accepting his protestations graciously, she said with commendable frankness that he might think it strange that a woman of her years still indulged in gallantry; but the ordering of a great Empire was a mighty and unceasing labour; she had found that the pleasures of love were the one thing which could take her mind off the innumerable problems she was constantly called on to face* and refresh her sufficiently to endure her toil yet another day.
On glancing round he saw that her apartments were arranged differently from those below. They were in a boudoir, handsomely furnished, but with a homely atmosphere, everything in it showing signs of constant use. Beyond it, through an open door, he could see the bedroom; a circular chamber with fluted pillars framing the painted panels of its walls, and in one segment of it, a big round bed, entirely draped in brocaded curtains which hung from a circular frame surmounted by a huge tuft of ostrich feathers.
Having made Roger sit down in a comfortable chair near the fire Catherine went over to a chiffonier, poured out a glass of wine and brought it back to him. The gesture was made so naturally that he felt no embarrassment at her waiting on him, and settling herself on the opposite side of the fire she at once began to tell him of her routine.
"I vow," she declared, dropping the royal 'we,' "that I am the hardest worked woman in my Empire. I-rise at six, or often earlier; and, as I much dislike servants fussing about in my private apartments, I prepare my own breakfast in a kitchenette I have had fitted up here. While my ladies dress me I have such documents as are awaiting my attention read aloud, and while my hair is being dressed I sign them. From eight till eleven I either preside at my council or work in my cabinet. From eleven to twelve I attend chapel; from twelve to half-past one I give audience to such of my ministers as request to see me. A half-hour generally suffices me for dinner and by two I am at work again on my correspondence. I count it a lucky day if I can get in more than an hour's walk or drive in the park before six, at which time I am due to appear in my theatre; and between the acts of whatever is performed I am besieged by the ambassadors and others. Sundays and Saint's days are holidays for most people, but not for me; since I must then hold a Court, sup in public, and afterwards take a hand at cards, often with people for whom I do not particularly care, but feel that I should invite to join me from diplomacy. So you see I get little leisure, and after my normal working day of fourteen hours I feel well justified in supping with a friend in private."
Roger heartily agreed with her and added: "Before I left Paris, Madame, I was for some time confidential secretary to Monsieur le Marquis de Rochambeau, who advised Queen Marie Antoinette privately on Foreign Affairs. If I could lighten your burden a little by assisting you with your less important correspondence, it would give me the happiness of feeling that in some small measure I was repaying your graciousness to me."
"Indeed!" she exclaimed, her big blue eyes brightening. "Then, in acquiring a gallant with whom I can discuss foreign business, I have chosen better than I knew. But when we are alone together I wish you to call me Catherina Alexeyevna. Tell me, Roje Christorovitch, what think you of the new Triple Alliance that England, Prussia and the United Provinces have recently entered into?"
"That it appears to be aimed at my beloved France, but may not necessarily be so," he replied promptly. "I have an English godmother and on my visits to her have come to know something of the English. When I was last in London I discussed the matter with several gentlemen who are near to Mr. Pitt. 'Twas their opinion that he is a man of peace, and has entered into this Alliance only as a counterpoise to the Bourbon Family Compact; so that the likelihood of a new war may be rendered more remote."
"Think you so?" she said doubtfully. "Should you be right the fear of war suggests that the English are becoming weak and decadent. War in itself is a brutal business and begets much misery, yet only by experiencing it can nations maintain their full health and vigour. Long periods of peace have always been followedby a decline in national power."
With due deference Roger disagreed, instancing the Pax Romana, during which for four hundred years peace had been maintained among the nations of southern and western Europe, enabling them to develop their agriculture, arts and commerce to a degree that would otherwise have been quite impossible.
She laughed. "You prove my point, for afterwards came the warrior races, the Vandals, Goths, Vikings and Huns, and reduced all those nations who had forgotten how to defend themselves to a state of slavery."
He countered that by suggesting that if only the barbarous nations of the north had also been brought under the sway of Rome, they too would have developed peaceably, with greater ultimate benefit to themselves and others. He went on to urge that no permanent development of humanity as a whole was possible as long as strong nations preyed upon their weaker neighbours; and that small states had as good a right to enjoy their liberties as great ones.
"Monsieur Diderot held much the same language to me when he visited my Court," she remarked with a shake of her grey head, "and I said of him afterwards that, though he was a hundred years old in some respects in others he was no more than ten. You, too, are a child in these matters, Rojé Christorovitch, and my long experience of the ways of nations makes me think very differently. Such idealism is well enough to talk of in an idle hour, but my first interest must always be the security and wellbeing of my own people; and, as long as I live, they shall have their wars, that they may practise their valour and afterwards rest easy in the comforting. knowledge of their own strength."
It had been far from Roger's expectations to gain so swiftly such a full and definite expression of the Empress's general convictions, which must certainly have an overriding influence on all her future policies. It was clear now that the chance of persuading her to join in a pact for the maintenance of a permanent peace was extremely remote; so he had his answer for Mr. Pitt, and there seemed no alternative but for the British Prime Minister to take such measures as he could to curb the ever-growing power of Russia. But as Roge
r thought of that, he also wondered with considerable misgivings if he would ever be in a position to pass on this extremely valuable information to Whitehall'.
Meanwhile Catherine had risen and gone again to the chiffonier. From it she began to take several dishes, and as Roger hurried over to help her, he saw that they had been resting on a special arrangement of burners which had kept them hot during the past ten minutes' conversation. Together they carried the dishes and plates to a small table which was laid for two, then sat down to sup.
During the meal the Empress's active mind flitted from subject to subject with extraordinary agility and Roger had all his work cut out to keep up with her; but evidently she was pleased with him, as while they were eating their dessert, she congratulated him on his conversation, remarking that he had an exceptionally wide knowledge of affairs for so young a man.
For his part Roger found her easy, vivacious and extraordinarily interesting to talk to; and he caught himself thinking that, had she been nearer his own age he could easily have fallen in love with her.
But, as it was, a gulf of nearly forty years separated them, and each time he looked at her sagging, heavily-painted face, redeemed only by the marvellous blue eyes, he felt a shiver run down his spine.
Ever since a night five years earlier, when, as a boy of fifteen, he had been taken to a brothel in Le Havre and had run from it in disgust, he had had a horror of making love to any woman who did not attract him; and more recently, there had been numerous occasions on which he had felt sickened at the advances of voluptuous ladies past their prime. Only the memory of the dungeon at Schlusselburg kept him from throwing down his napkin and rushing from the room. He knew that later, somehow or other, he would have to bring himself to caress her and, mentally, he shuddered at the thought; but she gave him little time to think of that, and for longish periods he forgot it altogether, only to recall it again with amazement at the fact that she had so bewitched him with her brilliant personality that he had actually been enjoying himself. Again it entered his mind that if he could only get through this first night with her he might yet endure the physical relationship for the sake of the great place in the world it would bring him.
When they rose from table she went to a secretaire and produced two parchments, which she handed to him, as she said:
"The one is your official pardon for the Yagerhorn affair. I cannot find it in myself to blame you for taking your revenge upon him, and, even had I not taken a liking to you, I should have let you off with a severe reprimand."
He gave a nervous laugh. "The night I was arrested I fully believed that I should end by paying for that business with my life. Doubtless I would have, too, had not you chanced to learn of my case, and believing me a monster, became curious as to my appearance."
"Nay, 'twas not chance," she said quickly, "for I should have learned of the matter in any event. I allow no person in my realm to be condemned to death without first having had full information of the circumstances laid before me; and in nine cases out of ten I commute the punishment to imprisonment. The other paper will compensate you somewhat for your fright. 'Tis the title-deed to an estate, carrying three hundred and fifty serfs, in the province of Tula."
As he began to stammer his thanks she took the black and red ribbon from round her neck, and reaching up, passed it over his head, exclaiming as the shining star fell oh the lace frills of his shirt: "I make you, too, a Knight of my Order of St. Vladimir, for I would think but meanly of myself did I keep a friend long landless and undecorated in my company."
Roger felt horribly embarrassed by this generous payment in advance for a service that he was still uncertain that he could bring himself to render. But the volatile Empress did not notice his confusion, as she half turned away and, indicating a door partially concealed by a curtain, went on: "Now, before we give ourselves up to the pleasures of the night, let us take a turn or two in the winter garden, for the good of our digestions."
Heaving an inaudible sigh of relief at this respite Roger accompanied her through the door, and on glancing round, was amazed to find himself in a veritable paradise. The place they had entered was a conservatory of such vast dimensions that he could not see its ends and could only vaguely discern its roof. There were no pots or wooden stages, and, except for being enclosed, it had all the appearance of a richly-stocked tropical garden in the open. Gravel walks wound between gay flower-borders and banks of flowering shrubs scented the air with a heady perfume; there were fountains, trees twenty feet in height, and open spaces with shaved grass lawns. Chains of fairy-lamps illuminated the whole, and as they moved, scores of parakeets and other brightly-coloured birds fluttered away to seek fresh cover among more distant foliage.
Catherine told him that she had built this wonder on a great row of arches in each of which big furnaces were kept going day and night; so that the temperature never altered, and even in the depths of the Russian winter it provided her with grapes, pineapples, hyacinths and roses.
But as they walked sedately between the palms and oleanders, her hand resting lightly on his arm, Roger's thoughts were whirling again. It suddenly struck him as grimly humorous that, within a fortnight, he should have been the recipient of two Orders of Chivalry for such fantastically divergent reasons. What would she do, he wondered, if he told her that in the filthy straw on the floor of a dungeon in her castle of Schlusselburg he had buried the Star and yellow ribbon of a Swedish decoration, and how he had earned it. Send him to take what joy of it he could there for the rest of his life, seemed the almost certain answer. But the thought prompted him to express his admiration for the fearlessness she had shown when first attacked by Gustavus, and the way in which she had despatched the few troops that she could muster to oppose his greatly superior army on her frontiers.
She smiled at him. "The Romans never asked after the number of their enemies, but where they were, in order to fight them; and I am of their mind."
When he asked her if she thought that the Swedish army in Finland would disintegrate before winter, she replied with a chuckle. "I care not, now that its sting has been drawn from it. Realising his army to be a broken reed, the insolent Gustavus has abandoned it to its fate. My spies report that he fled from his camp by night, with a few intimates, a fortnight back. I fear that by now 'tis as good as certain that he has succeeded in eluding Admiral Greig's blockade; but his homecoming will be far from a triumph, and his position will soon be rendered desperate by a pretty little surprise I have in store for him."
In a low voice she went on to tell Roger of the secret clause she had inserted in the treaty of 1773, by which she had ceded Holstein to the Danes, and how they had now agreed to honour their bond by launching a surprise attack on Sweden.
Already being aware of this deep secret his mind began to wander again to what lay ahead of him; but it was brought back with a jerk by her adding: "When Gustavus hears the news that a Danish army has invaded his western provinces from Norway he will naturally expect it to march direct on Stockholm, and devote all his energies to preparing the defences of his capital. But instead, 'tis the Danes' intention to overrun the south and seize undefended Gothenburg."
As in a dream, Roger realised that, without effort on his part, he had come into possession of the Danish plan of campaign. If he could get it to Gustavus in time, counter-measures might be taken and the tables turned. In view of Catherine's statement before supper it had become more than ever important to aid Sweden in her fight against Russia, and thus delay further Muscovite penetration into Europe. But how could he conceivably escape from his present situation; let alone, as a fugitive pursued by the police of a bitterly insulted Empress, reach Stockholm?
No further time was given him even to consider means by which he might secure a flying start next day. They had returned to the hidden door leading into Catherine's boudoir. She pressed a spring and it swung open. Damp under the collar now, he followed her inside.
Giving him an arch glance from
her big blue eyes, she said, "So far I have found your company most stimulating, dear Roje" Christorovitch. In one short evening I have come to know you well enough to look forward with most pleasurable anticipation to your giving me more intimate proof of your regard. I will leave you now, but I will not keep you waiting long. In five minutes you may rejoin me."
As she turned away towards the bedroom he swallowed hard, staggered, and clutched at the table.
Swinging round she looked at him in quick alarm, and cried: "What ails thee?"
" 'Tis nought, Catherina Alexeyevna," he stammered. "Nought but over-excitement. A glass of wine will put me right. I shall be myself again by the time you—you are ready to receive me."
Reassured she walked into her bedroom and closed the door behind her.
In an agony of indecision and distress he looked wildly round him. He knew now that he positively could not make love to that lecherous old woman who was undressing beyond the carved and gilded door. No, not for all the riches or power in the world. Not even to save Europe from a cataclysm. He had got to get away from her. But how? How? How?
His mind had gone blank and refused to work. Vaguely he looked at the rail that guarded the spiral staircase. He could dash down it. But if he did, what was he to do then? She would call him in another few minutes, and if he did not appear, she would send her guards after him. They would catch him before he had even got out of the palace, and, despite all her natural clemency, Messalina baulked of her pleasure would exact a dire vengeance. To break in upon her now and tell her to her aged, painted face, that he could not go through with it, would serve him little better. The cheated nymphomaniac would smother the kindly woman in her, and he would be dragged off to that ghastly dungeon at Schlusselburg to repent his momentary assertion of his rights as a man during months of incarceration in a living tomb.
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