The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

'I'll not believe it,' he cried, pressing his attack; but she pushed him firmly from her and said seriously.

'I mean it, Monsieur. Your ardour is a charming compliment, but if you were older you would realise that appearances are often deceptive. I hope I do not look it, but I am near old enough to be your mother.'

'Nay, 'tis impossible,' Roger protested. 'I'll vow you're not a day over twenty-six.'

'I am thirty-one,''she told him with a little grimace.

'Well, what of it? 'Tis truly said that a woman is as old as she looks and a man is as old as he feels. I rate you as twenty-six and, if you'll let me, I'll show you that I have as much experience as most men of thirty.'

'You delightful child,' she rallied him. 'If I were ten years younger I'd be tempted to make trial of you; but the question of age apart; I, like the Queen, feel that any woman who holds a public position owes it to France to set a standard; so I am faithful to my husband.'

Roger felt certain from her tone and glance that she was not seek­ing to set a higher value on surrendering to him later, but really meant what she said; and as deliberate virtue was so rarely to be found in a woman of her class at that time, he admired her for it.

After a moment he said: 'I would that you were ten years younger, then; or at least not the wife of France's representative. But from what you say Queen Sophia Magdalena must be a puritan indeed, for if any woman had good cause to take a lover, it seems, from what I hear, that 'tis she.'

'Nay, I was speaking of Queen Marie Antoinette,' replied the Marquise quickly. 'As for the other, her case is very different; and from my heart I pity any woman who is forced to take a lover against her will.'

.'What mean you, Madame!' exclaimed Roger in surprise.

Angelique de Pons' blue eyes were grave as she said: 'Since you appear not to know her situation 'tis well that I should put you au faitwith it; for knowledge of it may prevent you from making some unfortunate faux paswhen in Swedish society. There is good reason to suppose that King Gustavus has never co-habited with his Queen.'

'I had heard that he was no constant votary to the goddess Venus,' Roger remarked, 'but had supposed. . . . Surely you do not mean that the young Crown Prince, and the Queen's little daughter, born more recently. . . ?'

The Marquise shrugged her plump shoulders. 'Alas, 'tis the fact. Quite soon after their marriage Gustavus endeavoured to persuade his wretched bride to take one of his friends as a lover, in order that she might provide him with an heir; but he met with a most indignant refusal. He ceased then from his vile proposals and for eleven years they lived apart. But it seems that a time came when he realised that if he allowed many more years to pass she might not be able to give him an heir at all, and he again attempted to persuade her to take a lover. She still resisted but, finding that her scruples were mainly of a religious nature, he finally gained her consent to an arrangement whereby he divorced her in secret and with equal secrecy she was remarried to his friend Major Muncke.'

'Then the heir to the Swedish throne has no legal title to it.'

'None; but there is every reason to suppose that he will succeed; since Gustavus disguised the whole affair from the common people with his usual cunning. Everyone knew that he and his Queen had been estranged for many years, so he stage-managed a grand recon­ciliation in '77, the year before the Crown Prince was born. But all the nobility saw through the imposture and the old Dowager-Queen, Louisa Ulrica, publicly refused to acknowledge the child as her grand-son.

'She was Frederick the Great's sister, was she not?'

'Yes; and a finer woman than he was a man. I know little of politics and care about them less; but I have many times heard it said that had it not been for the weakness of her husband, the old King Frederick, in allowing the Riksdagto ride rough-shod over the Royal authority, she would have done great things for Sweden. As it was, all she could do was to instil her own courage, good taste and love of learning into her son; but Gustavus has ill-repaid his mother for her care. So dis­gusted was she by his depravity, and his having foisted another man's child upon the nation as his heir, that she retired from court; and her death, six years ago, was hastened by her revulsion at the news of Sophia Magdalena's second unnatural pregnancy.'

As they talked on Roger soon found that the Marquise's state­ment, that she knew little of politics and cared about them less, was indeed the case. Her interest lay in people, entertainments and the arts, and of these she would talk with the greatest animation; but whenever he touched on international affairs she displayed either ignorance or boredom.

From the point of view of his task this was a disappointment; but the one thing which had given him some concern since under­taking it was that he might be called on to betray confidences made to him as a friend, and it consoled him somewhat to think that such a circumstance was unlikely to arise in the case of Angelique de Pons.

On thinking the matter over later in the day Roger was surprised to find that, whereas he would have greatly disliked having to abuse Angelique's confidence, he would have felt not the least scruple about betraying that of Natalia Andreovna. This difference in his mental attitude towards the two women brought home to him the fact that the slim Russian's attraction for him was entirely physical, whereas he really liked the French woman as a person.

They had parted with the most friendly feelings; as she had told him frankly that if she had led him on a little it was simply in order to reach a quick understanding with him, and to make it clear that she was not a prude but a woman with whom he could talk freely on any subject. She had added that if he would not regard her as a mother he must certainly do so as a sister, since she made the happiness of all young Frenchmen who came to Sweden her especial care. He had thanked her with genuine gratitude and promised to call upon her at least twice a week to keep her informed of his doings.

That night Roger drove to the Russian Embassy to attend Natalia Andreovna's salon. He found it to be a great mansion standing in its own grounds in the most fashionable suburb of the city, and from the many liveried servants in evidence it was clear that it was maintained in a degree of state which would have done credit to a minor palace.

Although he arrived early a small crowd was already assembled in Natalia's green and yellow drawing-room, so, obviously, there was no hope of any private conversation with her; but Roger had come pre­pared to find that the case, and had spent the best part of the after­noon composing a love-letter, in which, having raved about her beauty and attainments, he begged for an assignation.

She greeted him with her thin-lipped smile then turned to her father, who was standing beside her settee, and informed him that it was Roger who had rescued them two evenings before, when their coach had broken down.

Count Razumofsky, evidently to show his contempt of accepted custom, was wearing, instead of the silk tail-coat suit and patterned waistcoat usual for such receptions, a Russian costume consisting of a black velvet blouse trimmed with sable, black cloth breeches, and instead of silk stockings, high Hessian boots. Over his left shoulder he wore the broad, deep-red, watered ribbon and eight-pointed golden star that was the insignia of the Order of St. Alexander Nevsky, the second highest in Russia; so despite his unconventional dress, he made a most striking figure.

To-night he was in a very different mood from that in which Roger had first seen him. With a hearty guffaw over the accident and many jovial expressions of thanks, he slapped his rescuer on the shoulder, and abruptly leaving the people to whom he had been talking, led him away into the next room where there was a buffet with food and drink. Bawling loudly for vodka and caviare the broad-shouldered bull-necked Russian pressed Roger to take his fill, swallowed three vodkas in quick succession himself, then introduced him to some other gentlemen who had come in, told him that he would be welcome at the Embassy at any time, and left him.

Natalia Andreovna's drawing-room and two smaller rooms leading out of it were soon filled to overflowing; and Roger began to wonder how he could possibly give her his letter without attracting undue attention. He had been talking to various people for over an hour before he hit upon a plan, but once having thought it out he took the letter from his pocket, and without making any attempt to conceal it, went up to her.

As soon as he caught her eye he bowed and said: 'Madame, there is a poor stricken fellow lying at my inn. Knowing your charity he begged me to give you this letter, which sets forth the particulars of his desperate situation, in the hope that you will be so touched as to succour him.''

The words Roger used applied perfectly well to his own case, but he felt certain that her great wealth must cause her to receive frequent appeals to her benevolence, and that the people about her would take what he had said in that sense. As they did not show the faintest sign of interest it seemed that his stratagem was entirely