The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

footman was walking towards the window. Scared that the man would see him, Roger dropped down on his knees and crouched almost flat, to get below the angle of the man's glance if he looked out.

The shadows were thickening now and the heavy foliage of a big magnolia grandiflora, climbing up the side of the house, helped to obscure the place where Roger was kneeling. The footman shut one of the windows but ignored the other, then pulled the heavy curtains, cutting off any further chance of Roger seeing into the room.

He got to his feet and stood there listening intently for a moment. He could hear the man's footfalls as they crossed the parquet of the floor, then they faded away. Roger had no idea if Vorontzoff had come back into the room or not, but he felt that it was now or never.

Gripping the lower framework of the window which was still open at the top, he eased it up. It ran smoothly on its weights making little noise. When he had it open a couple of feet he put his hands on the sill, kicked himself off the ground and, as quietly as possible, wriggled inside. Between the window and the fall of the curtain there was a space about a foot wide, and ample in which to stand up. Getting cautiously to his feet he listened again.

For half a minute he could hear nothing but the beating of his own heart, then he caught Vorontzoff's voice, distant but clear, speaking in French.

'This way, Madame. In my room we shall be able to talk at our ease.'

A woman murmured something that Roger did not catch. There came the noise of footsteps on the parquet and people settling them­selves in chairs, then Vorontzoff spoke again:

'His Excellency wrote to warn me that there was a prospect of my being able to welcome you here either this month or next. But there seemed some little doubt then whether you would be able to make the journey. I ani delighted that you managed to do so, as I feel certain that you will be of the very greatest assistance to me in London.'

'I am, I believe, exceptionally well placed to be so,' replied the woman, with a little laugh; and Roger stiffened where he stood, for the voice was that of Natalia Andreovna.

* * * * *

'I gather that you are married to a young man in the service of the British Foreign Office?' Vorontzoff remarked, continuing the conversation in French; and Roger blessed the custom of educated Russians of rarely using their own language, except when addressing servants.

'Yes, Monsieur,' replied Natalia. ' 'Tis too long a story to tell in detail now. This is my first night in London, and I succeeded in slipping away from the mansion where he lodged me only on the pretext of wishing to see the city at sunset by myself. I will give you simply the bare outline.

'I believed my husband to be a Frenchman when he married me at the order of the Empress, in Petersburg, towards the beginning of last September; but a fortnight later he left me at a moment's notice, marooned in Copenhagen, on the plea of urgent business. 'Twas on doing so that he disclosed in a letter that he was really an Englishman; and that gave me furiously to think. While we were in Stockholm, where we first met, and later in Russia, his curiosity on the subjects of Her Majesty's Court and our foreign policy had been insatiable. Naturally I wondered if he had been making use of me to gain informa­tion, so I determined to wait and find out. Then, early in October I had a letter despatched by him from Gothenborg. In it he told me that he would not be able to rejoin me for some time. To begin with I had been much attracted to him physically, but the attraction was Wearing thin, as these things do, and there was a certain softness about his nature which at times repelled me; so I decided to wait no longer, but rejoin my father.'

So thatwas the truth of the matter, thought Roger grimly. Her feelings for him had been on a par with his for her, all the time. What a fool he had been to go out to Stockholm and fetch her, when by leaving her there he might have been rid of her for good.

Vorontzoff had interrupted her to say: 'Pardon me, Madame, but am I not right in supposing ,that your return to your father was dictated, partly at least, by the fact that you could not go back to Russia, owing to your having incurred the Empress's displeasure?'

' 'Tis true, your Excellency,' Natalia admitted, 'and as I have a great love for our country I took it hard. 'Twas in the hope that I might earn reinstatement in Her Majesty's good graces, that I suggested to my father making a rapprochement with my husband for the purpose of gaining possession of his secrets.'

Roger had guessed as much already from this secret visit of Natalia's to the Russian Embassy; and he smiled to himself at the thought that pure chance should disclose her intention to him before she had even had an opportunity to begin her nefarious operations. But from this comforting belief he was rudely awakened, for she went on quietly:

'I have already accomplished a coupof which I am not a little proud. Before leaving Sweden King Gustavus entrusted my husband with a letter to Mr. Pitt...'

Roger's heart missed a beat. In his mind he saw again Pitt looking at the cracked seal of the letter. If a copy of it fell into Vorontzoff's hands that would be a major calamity. If Natalia had one it was essential that he should see what happened to it, so that he could retrieve it at the earliest possible opportunity. Very gingerly he moved a few feet to the right until he was behind two of the curtains where they overlapped. Raising his hand he drew the under one gently aside until there was a chink between them through which he could see a narrow strip of the room.

Meanwhile Natalia was still speaking. 'In it, the ambitious Swede gives details of the campaign he intends to wage against us this coming summer; he also makes various proposals by which the expansion of Russia might be checked. On our voyage here, one night when my husband was half-asleep, I succeeded in getting it from the pocket of his coat. I pretended a faintness from lack of air, and told him that I meant to walk for a while on deck; but I took the letter to another cabin and made a copy of it. I have it here, and to give it to your Excellency without delay was my reason for risking this visit to you so soon after my arrival. But now I must get back. I have already been away over long. To avert suspicion I had to support being driven for an hour round the parks before I dared propose to Lord Amesbury's coach­man that he should drive me out here to see my country's Embassy.'

As she finished speaking Roger had just managed to part the curtains. He could not see Natalia, but he was in time to see her hand stretch out and lay the packet on Vorontzoff's desk.

'You have done well, Madame,' the Ambassador purred, as he picked it up. 'But tell me, this husband of yours, Mr. Brook. Is he not a tall, slim young man of handsome countenance with brown hair and very deep blue eyes?'

'Why yes!' Natalia replied. 'Does your Excellency then know him?'

Roger had adjusted the crack between the curtains a fraction, so that he could now see Vorontzoff. The Ambassador had slit open the cover of the packet and taken out the sheets of paper it contained. It was clear that next moment he would begin to read them. Roger had been praying that before he did so Natalia would go, as he would then be able to hold up the Russian, get the letter from him, and after­wards proceed to the original purpose of this clandestine visit. But his hopes were clearly doomed to disappointment. At all costs Vorontzoff must be prevented from reading even a part of King Gustavus's letter and, somehow, Natalia must be got out of the house before she had a chance to give any information about its contents.

'Aye,' murmured the Ambassador. ' 'Tis the same man without a doubt. I won three hundred guineas from him at cards, nigh on a year ago.

'Indeed you did; and I took your Excellency for a ride in a wheelbarrow,' said Roger quietly, as he stepped from behind the curtains, pistol in hand.

'Roje Christorovitch!' exclaimed Natalia, springing to her feet. 'So you—you followed me here?'

'Nay, Madame,' he replied coldly. 'Our meeting is entirely fortuitous, but none the less fortunate.'

Although he spoke to her his eyes were on Vorontzoff. Levelling his pistol at the Ambassador's heart, he said:

'Your Excellency will oblige me by laying those sheets of paper down on this side of your desk and stepping back four paces. They are an illegal copy of a secret document addressed to the British Prime Minister. It is my duty to prevent you from reading them. If you refuse I intend to shoot you and, despite your status as Ambassador, I shall be upheld by my Government in having taken the only course possible in the circumstances. I mean what I say, and I will give you only five seconds to decide.'

As Roger began to count, Vorontzoff's brown face went whitish round the mouth and eyes. He had not forgotten their old quarrel and the ruthless way in which Roger had threatened him in the ice­house. He had not the faintest idea that for the next twenty-four hours Roger actually set more value on his life and well-being than on his