The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

servants which we should consider ferocious.'

'That I admit; yet a death-sentence is a rarer thing here than in most other countries.'

'What though, Sir, of exile to Siberia? 'Tis said that thousands of hapless folk are despatched every year to drag out a miserable exist­ence in those icy wastes?'

Mr. Tooke made a deprecating gesture. 'News of general conditions in such a distant country as Russia travels but slowly to the outer world. No doubt in England people still believe the state of things here to be much as they were in the days of Her Majesty's predecessor, the Empress Elizabeth. She was as great a tyrant as her father, Peter the First, yet lacking his originality and abilities. On her ascension to the throne in 1741, she took a vow never to resort to capital punish­ment, but since she was mean, cruel and suspicious by nature she allowed countless judicial atrocities to be committed in her name.

'In cases of suspected treason even inferior magistrates were em­powered to have prisoners' hands tied behind them to a rope by which they were then hoisted to the ceiling, let down with a jerk so that their arms were wrenched from their sockets, then knouted in that position to extract a confession. Quite frequently, too, innocent people were dragged from their beds in the middle of the night by her secret police and, without any form of trial, carried off into exile. 'Tis said that during the twenty years of her reign she banished over twenty thousand of her subjects to Siberia. But things are very different to-day. On coming to the throne the Empress Catherine forbade the use of all forms of torture, and although she sometimes sends those who have displeased her into exile, 'tis only on comparatively rare occasions. Her private life leaves much to be desired, but she is of a kindly disposition and rules with great humanity.'

Roger was about to ask Mr. Tooke's personal impression of the Empress when heavy footfalls sounded in the passage outside, the door opened, and a rugged face surmounted by crisp, iron-grey hair was thrust round it.

'Your pardon, William!' the newcomer exclaimed on seeing Roger. 'I was not aware that you had a visitor; and having delivered a parcel from my wife to your good lady, had thought that I would look in on you for a word before making my way home.

'Come in, Samuel, come in,' cried Mr. Tooke; then, turning to Roger, he added in French. 'Allow me to present you, Monsieur, to one of Her Majesty's most distinguished and devoted servants; Admiral Sir Samuel Greig, of the Imperial Russian Navy. Samuel, permit me to introduce Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc, a young Frenchman newly arrived in Petersburg.'

The Admiral had advanced into the room. He was a stalwart, thick-set man in his early fifties. His weatherbeaten face was lit by a pair of impatient, flashing eyes. He looked a rough diamond, and when he spoke it was with abrupt forcefulness. Instead of return­ing Roger's bow he stared at him truculently for a moment, then bellow­ed with a heavy Scots accent.

'Young Frenchman, eh? Tell that to the Marines! I'll swallow my own anchor if he's not as much an Englishman as yourself. And you, young man! Tell me this instant what criminal intent leads you to come to Russia deceiving honest men into believing you a Frenchie?'

Chapter XIII

HELL'S KITCHEN

Taken completely off his guard, Roger remained tongue-tied for a moment. He had not the faintest idea what had led to this swift ' penetration of his incognito. He knew only that if the Admiral's loyalty to his Imperial Mistress proved greater than any sentimental ties he retained for the land of his origin, the game was up. He, Roger, could count himself lucky if no worse befell than for his mission to end before it had properly begun, by his ignominious and immediate expulsion from Russia. That was, unless he could somehow manage to bluff his way out of the extraordinarily unfortunate encounter.

He had often heard of Admiral Greig. Indeed, the intrepid sailor was regarded as almost as much of a hero in the country of his birth as in that of his adoption. He had commanded a division of the first Russian Fleet ever to enter the Mediterranean; and, although the Supreme Command had been vested in Count Alexis Orlof, the brother of the Empress's first great favourite, there were good grounds for believing that Greig and his fellow Scot, Rear- Admiral Elphinstone, were the real authors of the signal victory by which the Russians had annihilated the entire Turkish Fleet in the Bay of Chesme.

Since then, he had distinguished himself by leading numerous spectacular actions, and, between wars, had become, in all but name, Commander-in-Chief of the Russian Navy. His rise was all the more spectacular in that he had started his sea-career in merchant ships, then served before the mast in the British Navy for six years before being allowed to accept a Lieutenant's commission in the Russian service. He now held the rank of Grand Admiral; and the five great jewelled stars blazing upon his breast—denoting him to be a Knight of the Orders of St. Andrew, St. George, St. Vladimir, St. Anne and St. Alexander Nevski—were more than enough to show the unlimited faith that the Empress placed in him. To Roger, it seemed in the highest degree improbable that such a man would be prepared to abuse his mistress's confidence to the extent of allowing a spy to remain at large in her country.

His only course seemed to be to lie like a trooper, and pray that Mr. Tooke would not give him away; so, drawing himself up to his full six feet, he said haughtily: 'You are under a sad misapprehension, Sir, and obviously mistake me for another. I have lived in England long enough to speak your language with some fluency, but my name is de Breuc, and I am a native of Strasbourg.'

'Enough of such lying, boy!' snapped the Admiral. 'I know you for what you are.'

Hopelessly puzzled as to the reason for this unshakeable assur­ance, Roger could only stand his ground and take refuge in assumed anger.

'Since you give me the lie, Sir,' he said sharply, 'although you are my senior by many years, you leave me no alternative but to call you out.'

The Admiral gave a great bellow of laughter, then shook his head with a humorous grin. ' 'Tis easy to see that you have not been long in Petersburg, my young fire-eater. The Russians may be a backward people in many ways, but at least they realise the idiocy of settling differences of opinion by jabbing at each other with their swords. Should you slap a Russian's face he will hit you back or break his cane over your head; but you will not find one fool enough to submit him­self to a contest in which justice has no part, and the best swordsman, be he right or wrong, comes off victorious.'

'Then, Sir,' snapped Roger. 'Should you persist in giving me the lie, my palm will itch so that it will inevitably make contact with your face.'

With a slight cough the Reverend Mr. Tooke intervened.

'Gentlemen, this matter has gone far enough. Why you should imagine, Admiral, that the Chevalier is an Englishman I have no idea; but I trust you will be satisfied that he is a person of good standing when I tell you that he has brought me a letter of introduction from our old friend Sir James Harris.'

Roger was filled with admiration for the extraordinarily tactful way in which the learned churchman had provided a bridge while skil­fully evading the point at issue. Mr. Tooke had made no admission that his visitor was not, to the best of his belief, a Frenchman, neither had he vouched for his integrity; but he had, by naming him a protege of the ex-Ambassador, placed him at once on a respectable footing.

'Ah! Then I'll say no more,' cried the Admiral with ready good

humour, but he added with a broad wink at Roger: 'Except to ask the Chevalier to remember me most kindly to Admiral and Lady Brook, should his travels ever take him to a little town called Lymington.'

With a friendly grin Roger hid his confusion at being so completely bowled out. Then, feeling that in the circumstances it would now be both churlish and stupid to persist in denying his true identity, he said. 'I pray you pardon me, Sir, for my extreme rudeness, but I had good grounds for striving to preserve my incognito. Tell me now, I beg, how it comes about that you knew me the second you set eyes on me?'

The Admiral laughed. 'You'd not remember me, but I've known you ever since you were a toddler, and I've a long memory for faces.'

'I must confess I don't recall our meeting, Sir, though I've often heard my father speak of you with friendship and admiration. You served under him at the reduction of Havana, did you not?'

'Aye, that was way back in '62 and long before you were born, boy. Your father and I were much of an age and became firm friends despite the deck that lay between us. 'Twas he who persuaded our captain to recommend me as suitable for a commission when the Russians asked for a few British seamen to help train their fleet. Years later, when my squadron revictualled in England on our way round to Greece, he came aboard to see me, bringing both your mother and yourself. You were no more than a child of two then, but I saw you again at Lymington when you were about eight. You've altered little since then, except that you've grown into a fine figure of a man.'