The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

'He and his mistress had been drinking themselves stupid for some weeks at the palace of Oranienbaum, which lies some distance further along the Gulf than Peterhof. On the morning of the coup d'etatthey set out to return to the latter place, as Peter was expected to participate in the celebration of the feast of St. Peter and St. Paul there on the following day. As they were approaching their destination they were met by a Chamberlain on his way to inform the Czar that the Czarina had escaped during the night. Peter was alarmed, but lacked the will to take any action.

'In the afternoon tidings of what was ocoirring in the city reached him from a French barber, who had sent his servant with a message.

Peter was urged by Gudovitch his A.D.C. and the veteran Marshal Munich to call up his three thousand Holsteiners from Oranienbaum and advance upon the' Residence; but he was too frightened to take their advice.

'They then advised him to throw himself into the fortress of Cronstadt and secure the fleet, with which he might yet have reduced Peters­burg. Again, he vacillated, but at length was persuaded to put off for the island in his yacht. Fortunately for us he arrived half an hour too late. Admiral Taliezin had just landed there and secured the place for Katinka; and the Admiral threatened to sink the yacht if Peter attempted to come ashore.

'Marshal Munich then urged him to sail down the coast to Reval, take ship for Pomerania and put himself at the head of the army that he had assembled there for the reconquest of his native province of Holstein; then return with it and subdue his rebellious subjects. Once more he could not bring himself to act like a man. Instead, he took refuge in the cabin of the yacht and mingled his tears with those of the Vorontzoff and other women who were in the party. With his tail between his legs, he put back for Oranienbaum.

'At six o'clock that evening Katinka again mounted her horse. With a drawn sword in her hand and a wreath of oak leaves about her brow, she led us out of Petersburg to defeat and subjugate her husband. But we were not called upon to fight. At the news of her approach, twice in the space of a few hours Peter wrote to her; in the first case offering to rule jointly with her, in the second begging her to let him retire peaceably to Holstein and grant him a pension. She disdained to reply to either missive.

'Even at the eleventh hour old Marshal Munich urged him again to fight or fly, but he was too irresolute to do either. Katinka sent the Chamberlain Ismailof to him. Ismailof persuaded him to get into a carriage, drive to Peterhof, and there make an abject surrender. He was stripped of his Orders and Panin made him sign an act of abdication. Then, on the evening of the second day, he was taken under guard some twenty verststo the royal villa at Ropcha; and that was the end of the matter.'

'No, no!' cried Natalia Andreovna. 'Tell us the rest of the story. Tell us how he diedl'

Orlof belched, loudly. 'There is nought to tell. He died of a bloody flux six days later, on the 17th of July, 1762.'

. 'Fiddlesticks!' she retorted with a sneer. 'The official account of his death declared it due to piles, but no one ever believed that.'

'It served well enough, and I've nought to add to it,' he said sullenly.

'You were there when he died,' she insisted. 'Come now! Tell the truth and shame the Devil.' '.

It was now well past one in the morning. Since six o'clock Natalia had indulged her taste for heady wines at frequent intervals, and in the past hour she had put away the best part of a bottle of champagne.

From the glitter of her green eyes and the flush on her thin cheeks Roger knew that she was three-parts drunk. Orlof, now lurching across the table, was very drunk indeed; and Roger himself felt far from sober. But he was sober enough to fear that the other two were about to enter on a violent quarrel, and made an effort to prevent it.

'I give not a damn how Czar Peter died,' he declared roundly. 'But I'm mightily obliged to your Excellency for your first-hand account of so enthralling a piece of history.'

Natalia ignored him and leaning forward focussed her eyes on Orlof. 'Go on, Alexi,' she muttered. 'You told me about it once before. Tell me again how you and Teplof strangled him.'

Orlof jerked himself back and, his muscles tensed, snatched up his heavy goblet. Roger half rose, from the conviction that the drunken giant meant to hurl it in her face; but suddenly Orlof relaxed, set the goblet down, and gave a low laugh:

'Since you know how things went already, what's the odds? Katinka appointed the brothers Baratinsky to be his gaolers out at Ropcha. She had meant to keep him a prisoner, but the excitement of July the 9th had swept the troops off their feet, and a few days later a reaction set in. It was clear that if Peter Feodorovitch were dead no counter revolution could be launched in his favour. So Katinka sent Teplof and myself out there to see him.'

'And then?' whispered Natalia Andreovna, eagerly.

'We asked permission to dine with him. Poison was put in the wine that he was offered before dinner. He drank it and was almost instantly seized with an acute colic. We urged him to drink some more of the wine and thus make a quick finish. But, a coward to the end, he refused. I threw him to the floor and Teplof twisted a table-napkin round his neck. We pulled it tight. Thus died a weakling and a traitor.'

'May God have mercy on your soul!' muttered Roger, shocked into the exclamation by this barefaced confession to most brutal murder.

Orlof swung upon him. 'Keep your prayers for those who need them, boy! I was but a soldier executing orders. If pray you must, pray for the Empress, who sent me to do her husband's business.'

'I'll not believe it!' cried Natalia Andreovna. 'Katinka has too mild a nature to initiate such a crime. 'Twas Gregory and you others who decreed in secret that Pater Feodorovitch must die, from knowing that as long as he lived your own necks would be in jeopardy.'

'Aye, he had to die!' shouted Orlof. 'But 'twas the Empress who gave the order!'

'You're lying.'

'I am not. 'Tis as I tell you.'

As they glared at one another across the table Roger felt certain that next second they would fly at one another's throats. But once again he was mistaken. Orlof suddenly kicked his chair from under him, lurched to his feet, and staggered across the room.

'I'll prove it!' he cried, pressing his great thumbs against two carved rosettes in a heavy oak bureau. 'May St. Nicholas strike me dead, if I don't prove to you that Teplof and I did no more than play the part of executioners.'

The hidden locks of the bureau sprang back under the pressure and it opened. Roger saw him jab his thumb again against an interior panel low down on the right, and a door slid back disclosing a secret cavity. For a few moments Orlof rummaged in it muttering angrily. 'Where is the accursed thing? I've not set eyes on it these ten years past; but I'll swear 'tis here somewhere. Aye! This is it!'

Turning he slammed a piece of yellowed parchment down on the table in front of Natalia Andreovna. Roger peered over her shoulder and saw that it was a brief letter signed 'Katerina Alexeyevna.' The note was addressed to Prince Baratinsky, the text was in German, and it ran:

A new crisis menaces our authority and life. Therefore we have this day determined on sending Alexi Orlof and Teplof to have speech with the person whom you have in keeping. They have orders not to return until they can hail us with the cry 'Live long, Czarina.'

For a moment Roger was puzzled by the last sentence; then he recalled having heard that on the death of a Russian sovereign it was customary for those who brought the news to his successor to break it by using those words in salutation.

He had hardly grasped the full significance of the note when he caught the sound of running feet outside on the landing. Next second a dishevelled officer burst into the room. Flinging himself on his knees before the High Admiral the breathless intruder panted:

' 'Tis war, Excellency! 'Tis war! Gustavus of Sweden has landed at Helsingfors with an army of forty-thousand men, and is advancing on Petersburg.'

'Ten thousand devils!' bellowed Orlof.

Natalia Andreovna sprang to her feet, and cried: 'I feared as much, although my father would not listen to me! With our armies dispersed all over Southern Russia what hope have we of saving the Residence from that treacherous toad!'

Orlof seemed to have suddenly sobered up. Snatching the parch­ment from the table, he threw it among the jumble of papers in the bureau and snapped down the lid. With his heavily-pouched eyes showing something of their