The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

by Dennis Wheatley

  Having taken leave of the Prime Minister, Roger walked across the park to Arlington Street. He was greatly disturbed by what he had been told of the King’s madness, both on account of the disastrous effect it must have on the nation and on his own affairs. It was good news that Hugh Elliot had succeeded in prolonging the armistice between the Danes and the Swedes for a further period of a month, but what was to happen at the end of that time if no fleet was sent and Mr. Pitt were out of office? Moreover, he had counted on a squadron being despatched at once in answer to Mr. Elliot’s appeal, and had intended to sail with it himself to rejoin Natalia Andreovna. It was now five weeks since he had left her and, in spite of his letters, he feared that she must be thinking very badly of him.

  At Amesbury House he found Droopy Ned just going to bed. It transpired that the eccentric young nobleman had been up all night owing to an experiment with one of his eastern drugs, which had made his mind so active that he had found it impossible to sleep; but the effects were now wearing off so he had intended to sleep through the day.

  Having greeted Roger with delight he changed his intention, took another dose of the drug to keep himself awake, and ordered breakfast for them both.

  From Droopy, Roger had no secrets, so over the meal he gave him an account of his adventures, including a perfectly frank statement as to how he had come to marry Natalia, and his present relations with her.

  When the story was done, Droopy looked considerably perturbed. ‘Egad, my poor Roger,’ he exclaimed. ‘You have got yourself into a pretty pickle, to have taken such a vixen for a wife. Were I in your shoes I must confess I’d be much tempted to leave her where she is.’

  ‘How can I?’ Roger shrugged.’ ’Twas at my behest that she accompanied me out of Russia, and she dare not return there. In her strange way, I have not a doubt that she loves me; so I would think myself despicable did I abandon her for good.’

  ‘You are fixed in your determination to bring her to England, then?’

  ‘Aye. I see naught else for it. She is a handsome baggage and of a pretty wit, so her appearance in society will make quite a stir and plenty of men will envy me. Do I but treat her fairly she may make me no worse a wife than one I might have taken to the altar out of a sudden passion, or married to please my parents.’

  ‘I scarce imagine this Russian Madame will do the last; and did your lady-mother know the truth of how you came to marry I vow she would be monstrous upset.’

  ‘You are right there, Droop. But I have no intention of disclosing aught of this to her. Hugh Elliot I told because he was intimately concerned, with my Russian mission; yourself because I count you my closest friend, and if things go ill between Natalia and myself I’ll need someone to whom I can ease my mind. But to allow anyone else to suppose that I do not love her would place her in a false position; and I have vowed that I will make her happy if I can.’

  ‘Do your parents yet know the bare fact of your marriage?’

  ‘Nay. I have been so fully occupied these two months past, that I have not writ them a single line since I left Petersburg to go into Finland. I dread having to tell them, too; for I fear they will be much distressed at my having married without their knowledge, and it will be hard to explain why I did not at least write to tell them of my intention. It would be far easier if I had Natalia with me, as I could then break the news in a letter from London asking their permission to take her down and present her to them. They are too generous not to receive her kindly, and by the time we arrived maybe the excitement of meeting her would cause them to forget my inconsiderate behaviour. As things are I have no excuse to write, so must hie me to Lymington, administer this shock, and be prepared to spend some miserable days in an atmosphere of restrained displeasure.’

  Droopy sat silent for a moment, a thoughtful look in his pale blue eyes, then he said: ‘I think you right, in that they would take it better if you could produce your wife within a day or two of having exploded this bombshell. You tell me that Mr. Pitt requires you to wait upon him again with full particulars of your mission. That is excuse enough for you to remain in London for the present. As soon as your business is completed you intend to set out for Denmark to fetch Mistress Brook home. Since the matter is near two months old already an extra week or two will make no difference; so why not shelve the problem of acquainting your parents with it until your return.’

  Roger grinned at him. ‘You were ever a sage counsellor, Ned, and I think your advice excellent. We will let sleeping dogs lie then, until I can produce my Russian bride.’

  They talked gloomily for a little about the King’s illness, then Droopy began to yawn; so Roger left him and went up to the room that, since his return from France, his friend had insisted he should consider as his own.

  There, he found a number of letters that had accumulated for him and, among them, two from Georgina.

  The first was from Athens, where she and her father had spent the early summer. She said that the society of the city was provincial in the extreme, but that its surrounding scenery and ancient temples made it fascinating beyond anything of which she had ever dreamed. The classic names, Parnassus, Corinth, Eleusis, Delphi tumbled over each other in her vivid descriptions of snow-capped mountains, olive-green hillsides and wine-dark seas. She had done a lot of painting; but, she declared archly, a plaguey persistent string of gallants had prevented her giving as much time to it as she would have wished. She confessed that one or two were not altogether lacking in those accomplishments and parts calculated to appeal to a poor lonely young widow; and that one in particular, a Count Zorbâs, who had eyes as black as sloes and moustachois as fierce as a pair of upturned scimitars, had regarded her with such longing for a whole week, that she had felt compelled to take pity on him.

  The second letter came from Constantinople which, she said, stank to high heaven of rotting fish and was pestiferous with hordes of flea-ridden pariah dogs that were purposely retained to act as scavengers in the streets. But again, the Golden Horn, the Mosques and the Dolma Baghtche Palace were sights which it was well worth sustaining much petty inconvenience to see. Of the Grand Signior, Abdul Achmed IV, she spoke as being one of the most enlightened Princes of his era, speaking French, Italian and Spanish fluently, and quite amazingly au courant with the latest intrigues at the courts of Versailles, St. James, Naples and Madrid. His greatest delight lay in intimate private parties consisting almost exclusively of cultured foreigners and at which the principal guests were the English and French Ambassadors, Sir Robert Ainslie and Roger’s old friend the Comte de Choiseul-Gouffier. Although the Sultan was a strict follower of the Mohammedan faith in public he treated his Christian subjects with wide tolerance and was, in private, a great connoisseur of fine wines. In fact, he had once jestingly remarked that ‘If he were to become an infidel he should assuredly embrace the Roman Catholic communion, for that all the best European wines grew in their countries; and indeed that he had never heard of a good Protestant wine.’

  Georgina went on to say that she had visited several seraglios and found the females in them abysmally ignorant in all things with the single exception of the art of love; and that it was to believe in a myth to think that husbands could ensure fidelity in their wives by shutting them up in harems, for the inmates of these zenanas employed themselves in little except intriguing with the eunuchs, who were supposed to guard them, to admit personably young men in the guise of pedlars and barbers. On going abroad she had been compelled to adopt the veil as a necessary precaution against the coarse insults of the vulgar but, she declared, with her eyes left free a woman could wreak as much or more havoc than with a bare face, had she a mind to it, and it was on these expeditions to the bazaars that the Turkish ladies acquired their gallants. Several wealthy Turks had offered her father sums of a flattering magnitude to buy her in marriage, and the elderly but gallant Capudan Pasha, who commanded the Turkish fleet in the war against the barbarous and rapacious Russians, had become so enamoured of her that, on hi
s offer for her being refused he had, mercifully without success, attempted to have her kidnapped.

  As Roger read the many pages of bold, vigorous scrawl, tears came into his eyes. He saw again as clearly as though they had parted only the day before, his dear, vital, beautiful Georgina. She was, he felt, a woman in a million, and that whatever other passions he might experience, he would never truly love any other. Yet he felt no twinge of jealousy at her relation of her amours, only a sense of gladness that she was so obviously enjoying her travels, which must be made doubly interesting from the companionship of her wise, broadminded and erudite father.

  He had written to her from Copenhagen, Stockholm and during the early part of his stay in St. Petersburg; and he recalled now, with some misgiving, that he had regaled her with a humorous account of the early stages of his affair with Natalia Andreovna. A little grimly he wondered what she would have to say when she learned that he had married the young widow who had first put him on a run-away horse and then put her maid in her bed after giving him an assignation. He had an uncomfortable feeling that when they eventually met they would dislike one another intensely.

  However, that evening he wrote once more to Natalia, telling her of the tempest that had kept him a prisoner in Bergen for a week, and that now he had got home he would be further delayed in returning to her, as he had been asked to carry new instructions to the British Minister in Copenhagen, and these might take ten days or so to prepare. Once again he ended with most abject apologies and protestations of his unwavering devotion.

  For a week he hung about awaiting a summons from the Prime Minister. During it he got himself a new wardrobe and renewed many of the acquaintances he had made in London during the previous winter. He also frequently accompanied Droopy Ned to White’s. This Tory stronghold was plunged in gloom, owing to the King’s malady and the approaching fall of Mr. Pitt’s administration, but Roger and Droopy now spent much of their time there exchanging rumours and speculating on the final outcome of the crisis.

  He felt that at such a time it would ill become him to pester his harrassed patron for an interview, but he was very anxious to get his report off his chest, so that he might be on his way back to Denmark. In consequence, having received no message by Monday, the 2nd of November, he went to Downing Street and, instead of sending up his name, patiently waited in the hall for nearly two hours, in order that he might put himself in the Prime Minister’s way when he left for the House.

  Pitt was abrupt and awkward only with people he did not know and, on seeing Roger, he apologised for having forgotten all about him in the stress of affairs, and asked him to dine with him at Holwood the following Sunday.

  On the previous occasion when Roger had ridden down into Kent it had been spring. Then, the gardens had been gay with almond blossom and daffodils; but this time he left London in a November fog. On arriving at Holwood he found that the company there suited these changed conditions. Instead of that gay rascal Sir James Harris, handsome Lord Carmarthen and forthright, dissolute Harry Dundas, his fellow-guests proved to be the Very Reverend Dr. Pretyman and Pitt’s cousin William Grenville.

  The churchman had been Pitt’s tutor at Pembroke, and, owing to his early ascendency over a young mind of exceptional promise, he had remained one of the closest intimates and advisers of the brilliant statesman. It was, perhaps, his vast classical learning and austere rectitude that appealed to Pitt, but everyone else considered him priggish, lacking in imagination and coldly unsympathetic. Grenville was the same age as the Prime Minister and, from his virtuous disposition and great industry, seemed naturally designed to be his satellite; but his pride encased him in a freezing manner which was enhanced by his heavy features and stiff carriage.

  Before dinner Roger learned the latest news of the King. On the first and third of the month he had gone out hunting, on the latter day dismounting to waggle the branch of an oak-tree in the belief that he was shaking hands with his friend the King of Prussia, and on both occasions had ridden himself into a state of exhaustion. Then, on the fifth, during a dinner-party at which both the Prince and the Duke had been present, he had suddenly become dangerous. Without the slightest provocation he had rushed upon his eldest son, seized him by the throat, pinned him against the wall and dared him to contradict the King of England. The Prince had burst into tears, the poor Queen became hysterical, and only with the greatest difficulty had the King been persuaded to retire to his room. The following night had witnessed a similar outburst and he had attacked his principal physician, Sir George Baker, who now reported that he feared for His Majesty’s life.

  The distress of Pitt and his friends was materially increased by the brutal conduct of the Prince of Wales towards his mother. He had taken over the direction of all affairs at Windsor with an abruptness that had caused her much pain; and, without having the decency to wait until it was known if his father had any chance of recovery, he had seized all his private papers.

  The Duke of York’s behaviour was even more unseemly as, surrounded each night at Brook’s by a crowd of sycophants and office-seekers, he was giving imitations of the maniacal noises made by his father, which resembled the barking of a dog.

  Roger had already heard of these shameful scenes in which the habitués of Brook’s were giving vent to their hilarious joy at their prospects of becoming the rulers of the realm; but, on his expressing his disgust, the Prime Minister said gently:

  ‘Speak not too harshly of the members of Brook’s. There are many good fellows among them. I am a member myself, for that matter. With his usual generosity Charles Fox put me up the very day I made my first speech in the House and, rather than repay so handsome a gesture by a slight, I have never resigned my membership.’

  They talked then of the future and Pitt announced quite calmly that he was preparing to resume his long-neglected practice at the Bar as a means of livelihood.

  ‘But even in opposition your influence will be invaluable, Sir, in counteracting the evil, selfish policies of these rascals who will assume office,’ Roger expostulated. ‘Surely you will not be reduced to giving the greater part of your time to earning your own living?’

  ‘I fear so,’ shrugged the Prime Minister. ‘Perhaps I should have feathered my nest while I had the chance. Less than a month ago I refused a gift of a hundred thousand pounds from the City, and during my administration I have used all the sinecures which fell vacant to pension men whom I felt deserved well of the nation, instead of taking any of them for myself. But I was prompted by the feeling that as long as my enemies could not accuse me of self-seeking, I was the better placed to conduct the country’s business.’

  After dinner Roger gave an account of his travels, tactfully glossing over the more hectic of his adventures in deference to the presence of the prim churchman. When he had done the Prime Minister commended him kindly for his zeal, then went on to say:

  ‘You need no longer concern yourself on Mr. Elliot’s account. His colleague in Berlin, William Ewart, has succeeded in pulling King Gustavus’s chestnuts out of the fire for him. Since last seeing you I have had a despatch to the effect that he has persuaded King Frederick Wilhelm of Prussia to issue a manifesto, stating that unless the Danes abandon their attack on Sweden he will despatch an army of sixteen thousand ment to invade their province of Holstein.’

  Roger had been fretting badly about his inability to carry reassuring news to Hugh Elliot, so he was greatly relieved, and very pleased when Mr. Pitt continued: ‘As to yourself, you have more than justified my belief in your capabilities, and served us well by procuring such a definite statement of the Empress Catherine’s views with regard to war. It seems that there is naught for it now but to curb her ambitions where e’er we may. But that is a task which I must leave to the opposition, for my days in office are clearly numbered.’

  ‘I take it, then, Sir, that you will not be able to employ me farther.’ Roger said, forgetful now of the horrors of the dungeon at Schlüsselburg, and made miserable at the
thought of this premature close to his promising career.

  ‘I fear that is so, Mr. Brook,’ Pitt replied. ‘I would have liked to send you into France, for things are in a pretty tumult there; and a well-informed account as to King Louis’s prospects of holding his own against his rebellious subjects would be of value to us. But circumstances deny me the privilege of availing myself of your abilities; though I trust you will allow me to continue to count myself among your friends.’

  ‘Indeed, Sir, I shall be greatly honoured,’ Roger bowed. ‘In any case, though, I was about to ask your leave to make a flying visit to Denmark, before receiving your instructions about other business. A personal matter requires my attention there, and I shall now set off as soon as I can secure a passage. Will you, perchance, have any missive that you would care for me to convey to Mr. Elliot?’

  ‘Nay. I am too fully occupied with other matters to write to him just now. But I would be obliged if you would wait upon my Lord Carmarthen, at the Foreign Office, before your departure, as his Lordship may well have a despatch that he would like you to transmit.’ Roger naturally agreed and, soon after, took his leave.

  On his ride back to London he was harassed by a new worry. Before he left on his Russian mission he had been adequately financed by the Foreign Office, and had also had the nine-hundred guineas from the sale of Georgina’s tiara; but his various journeyings and cutting a figure in the Northern capitals for five months had consumed nearly all his resources. He had enough money to reach Copenhagen and in the little chest he had left with Natalia there had been the equivalent of a hundred and thirty pounds. But he had sent her the key of it with his first letter, and the odds were that she had spent most of it by now. In any case they would be lucky if they had fifty guineas between them by the time they got back to England.

  He had counted on taking Natalia with him when he was next sent to a foreign court, but there were to be no more missions at His Majesty’s expense; and, with Mr. Pitt out of office, he might even have difficulty in securing a grant from the secret service funds which would reimburse him for his outlay while in Russia. He had only the three hundred a year that his father allowed him, and at near twenty-one had not so much as a foot on any ladder which might lead him to a lucrative post. Suddenly, and quite unexpectedly, he found himself faced with the frightening problem of how, in such straightened circumstances, he could possibly support an expensive wife like Natalia.