the eaves... Puzzled by LaBarge's expression, Zinnovy followed the line of his gaze to the knothole, puzzled even more when he realized at what LaBarge was staring. Suddenly, Jean knew he was going to take a chance, a daring chance, but one through which he could lose nothing.
'I admit the truth of some of the statements,' he repeated, 'but I deny they are crimes, Baron Zinnovy, I deny your right, as a Russian official, to conduct a trial on the territory of the United States!'
'What!' Zinnovy came half out of his chair. 'What nonsense is this?' 'People of Sitka!' LaBarge turned suddenly to face the crowd. 'You stand now on the free soil of the United States of America! The treaty of purchase has been ratified and signed by the Czar, and this territory now belongs to the United States of America, and the Czar has proclaimed an amnesty, freeing all prisoners at present held in Sitka!'
The audience rose to their feet, cheering. Zinnovy was shouting, his face swollen with anger. Soldiers ran along the aisles, threatening the crowd. Slowly they subsided. Jean LaBarge remained on his feet, his heart pounding heavily. He had attempted a colossal bluff and now he must carry it through. There were American ships in the outer harbor, and those ships had given him the idea. He knew that shipping men have a nose for developments, and that coupled with his great faith in his friend inspired him to the gamble. The room was quiet and Zinnovy straightened in his chair. 'Prisoner, I sentence--' 'You are without jurisdiction, Baron Zinnovy.' Jean's voice was calm, but it carried to every corner of the room. 'Sitka is now a territory of the United States and if sentence is carried out on me, you will yourself be liable to prosecution under the laws of the United States.' Zinnovy hesitated. He was trembling with fury, but he was never an incautious man, and now a beam of cool sanity penetrated his rage. LaBarge was too positive, too sure. If the sale had gone through, and especially if the money was not yet paid, and he passed sentence on an American citizen, he was buying himself a ticket to Siberia from which even his friends could not save him. And the Princess Helena was right here to report every detail, so he could never deny he did not know.
The room was filled with excited whispering; he was enraged to see with what excitement the news had been greeted. Here and there was a solemn face, but all too many had been made happy. Some of the smiles were from loyal Russians who were pleased to see him thwarted. This was nonsense ... merely an attempt by LaBarge to delay sentence ... yet, suppose it were true? The thought was an unpleasant one; he knew even his powerful friends would sacrifice him if it became necessary ... but how would a prisoner know if such a treaty had been ratified?
Even as he denied the possibility he answered the question himself. It was with prisoners as with the army: many times they knew things in the rank and file before the colonels of regiments knew. It was the grapevine, that word of mouth telegraph that could not be shut off or stopped. Perhaps--
'Sentence will be passed tomorrow afternoon,' he commanded abruptly, rising to his feet. 'Return the prisoner to his cell.'
Chapter 37
When he awakened it was night. Returned to his cell he had fallen across his bunk and slept like a man drugged, but he now lay wide awake, listening to the night sounds, for his was the hunter's brain, always tuned to the little sounds, the creeping sounds. He got up and walked to the narrow window. Out there were the stars, the same he had watched long ago from the Great Swamp. Was he a fool to trust in a man so far away? Outside a night bird called, and a wind talked gently among the pines and whispered of far-off mountains, a wind that came from distant glaciers, caressed the restless waters and blew into his small window.
There was a rustle in the corridor, a rustle of movement. He turned quickly, knowing that sound. A key grated in the lock and the door opened, and in the instant before it swung wide he caught a whiff of perfume. 'Jean? ... Jean!'
She was in his arms then and they clung to each other, clung with a strength that hurt. 'Jean! Oh, Jean! I've been so frightened!' Helena drew back suddenly, the guard was still in the door, but he had politely turned his back. 'Jean, is it true? Has the United States bought Sitka?' 'Helena'--he spoke softly so the guard would not hear--'I don't know anything more than you. It was a bluff.
'Of course,' he added, 'I know Rob. I know he has made this thing go through if anyone could, and when I saw those American ships out there, just lying there waiting ... well, what could I lose?'
She hesitated, fearing to tell him. 'Jean, Rob Walker has been writing to me, and they have tried everything to find you and free you. It was because of that that I am here, but at the last minute it all came to nothing. The treaty was not ratified.'
He shook his head stubbornly. 'I can't believe that. If the treaty was written, if a price was agreed upon, then Walker would get out the vote. No, Helena, if that treaty was written and submitted to the Senate it was ratified.' 'But it wasn't, Jean! You mustn't depend on that! You must escape!' 'No. I think Zinnovy wants me to attempt an escape .... if I do I'll be shot and his problem is solved. Don't you realize he would expect you to see me? That he might deliberately make it easy believing you would bring me something, a weapon? No, I'll stay. If Count Rotcheff can help, then--' 'Jean?' Her throat found difficulty with the words. 'Jean, Alexander has been dead for nearly a year. He died before I returned to Sitka.' 'Dead?' The word did not make sense. If he was dead then she was free ... free. Free ... they could be together. They could belong to each other. Nothing would stand between them. Only tomorrow he would be returned to Siberia ... or hanged. The improvised courtroom was jammed. The clerk took his place. Opposite Jean, Helena sat where her eyes could see his, and beside her were Prince and Princess Maksoutof. The crowd was large, and contained many familiar faces. His eyes stopped a full second.
Barney Kohl ... his face was solemn, but there was an obvious bulge at his waistband. Beside him was the square, tough face of Gant. Suddenly, Jean was filled with excitement. They had escaped then ... none of them were known to Zinnovy, and they were here. That meant they had been able to hide out after the attack on the Susquehanna.
His eyes searched the crowd ... Ben Turk ... beside him was Shin Boyar. There were several other men he did not know but he was sure they were Americans; they looked like Frisco seamen, right off the waterfront. And they were scattered, scattered in a perimeter around the room. Kohl was seated right behind a guard. Boyar was beside another. That meant they intended to break him out, which meant shooting unless they had a plan, a good plan.
Baron Paul Zinnovy came into the room. He walked to the desk and seated himself. He was cool, composed, sure. If he noticed the strange faces in the crowd he gave no evidence of it.
The clerk got to his feet. 'Jean LaBarge, stand and receive sentence!' Jean LaBarge got to his feet, and Baron Zinnovy looked over the papers he held in his hand. He smiled at LaBarge, finding pleasure in the moment. Suddenly there was a rustle of movement at the door, a shoving, a whisper, a shout, and then the door pushed open and a man in civilian clothes entered followed by a line of American bluejackets.
The man passed LaBarge by without speaking and stopped before Zinnovy, whose face had turned ashen.
'Baron Zinnovy? I am Brigadier General Lovell H. Rousseau, United States Commissioner to accept the Territory of Alaska from the government of Russia.' A Russian officer walked from the. door to a place beside the general. He stood at attention and bobbed his head. 'Captain Alexei Petchouroff,' he said. 'Special Emissary of His Imperial Majesty the Czar of all the Russias!'
Baron Paul Zinnovy leaned back in his chair, his face without expression.
Captain Petchouroff extended an envelope to Zinnovy. 'My orders, sir, and yours.
You are to return to Okhotsk to await His Imperial Majesty's pleasure.' Zinnovy got to his feet. 'Of course, but we have a trial here, and--' Petchouroff waved a gesture of dismissal. 'In honor of this great day, His Imperial Majesty has declared a general amnesty. A pardon for all on trial and all awaiting trial in Russian America. They are free, and you are freed of this disagreeable duty!'
Jean LaBarge turned to meet Helena as she ran to him from across the room, and then the crew of the Susquehanna moved in around him.
The morning was bright and clear. Brigadier General Rousseau and General Jefferson C. Davis, backed by a solid square of two hundred American sailors, soldiers and marines, stood at attention. Across from them stood one hundred Russian soldiers in their gray, red-trimmed uniforms. The music began, and officers on both sides mounted the steps of the Castle where Prince Maksoutof awaited them. They turned and faced the square, Captain Petchouroff descending to a place beside General Rousseau.
As the Russian flag was lowered, Princess Maksoutof sobbed gently. Among the Russian civilians several
