The Red Symbol Part 15

"One of the heads of the League, a man named Selinski, who called himself Ca.s.savetti, was murdered in London a week ago."

That startled him, I saw, though he controlled himself almost instantly.

"Are you sure of that?"

"I found him," I answered, and thereupon gave him the bare facts.

"And the English police, they have the matter in hand? Whom do they suspect?" he demanded.

"I cannot tell you, though they say they have a clue."

He paced to the window and stood there for a minute or more with his back towards me. Then he returned and looked down at me.

"I wonder why you have told me this, Mr. Wynn," he said slowly. "And how you came to connect me with these affairs."

"I was told that your Highness was also in danger, and I wished to warn you."

"I thank you. Who was your informant?"

"I am not at liberty to say. But--there is another who is also in danger."

I paused. My throat felt dry and husky all at once; my heart was thumping against my ribs. I had told myself that I was not jealous of him, but--it was hard to speak of her to him!

He misconstrued my hesitation.

"You may trust me, Mr. Wynn," he said gravely. "This person, do I know him?"

I stood up, resting my hand on the table for support.

"It is not a man. It is the lady whom some speak of as _La Mort_,--others as _La Vie_."

CHAPTER XIV

A CRY FOR HELP

A dusky flush rose to his face, and his blue eyes flashed ominously. I noticed that a little vein swelled and pulsed in his temple, close by the strip of flesh-colored plaster that covered the wound on his forehead.

But, although he appeared almost equally angry and surprised, he held himself well in hand.

"Truly you seem in possession of much information, Mr. Wynn," he said slowly. "I must ask you to explain yourself. Do you know this lady?"

"Yes."

"How do you know she is in danger?"

"Chiefly from my own observation."

"You know her so well?" he asked incredulously. "Where have you met her?"

"In London."

The angry gleam vanished from his eyes, and he stood frowning in perplexed thought, resting one of his fine, muscular white hands on the back of a tawdry gilt chair.

"Strange," he muttered beneath his mustache. "She said nothing. By what name did you know her--other than those pseudonyms you have mentioned?"

"Miss Anne Pendennis."

"Ah!"

I thought his face cleared.

"And what is this danger that threatens her?"

"I think you may know that better than I do," I retorted, with a glance at the flower--the red symbol--that made a vivid blot of color like a splash of blood on the white table-cloth.

"That is true; although you appear to know so much. Therefore, why have you spoken of her at all?"

Again I got that queer feeling in my throat.

"Because you love her!" I said bluntly. "And I love her, too. I want you to know that; though I am no more to her than--than the man who waits on her at dinner, or who opens a cab door for her and gets a smile and a coin for his service!"

It was a childish outburst, perhaps, but it moved Loris Solovieff to a queer response.

"I understand," he said softly in French.

He spoke English admirably, but in emotional moments he lapsed into the language that is more familiar than their mother-tongue to all Russians of his rank.

"It is so with us all. She loves Russia,--our poor Russia, agonizing in the throes of a new birth; while we--we love her, the woman. She will play with us, use us, fool us, even betray us, if by so doing she can serve her country; and we--accept the situation--are content to serve her, to die for her. Is that not so, Monsieur?"

"That is so," I said, marvelling at the way in which he had epitomized my own ideas, which, it seemed, were his also. Yet Von Eckhardt had a.s.serted that she--Anne Pendennis--loved this man; and it was difficult to think of any woman resisting him.

"Then we are comrades?" he cried, extending his hand, which I gripped cordially. "Though we were half inclined to be jealous of each other, eh? But that is useless! One might as well be jealous of the sea. And we can both serve her, if she will permit so much. For the present she is in a place of comparative safety. I shall not tell you where it is, but at least it is many leagues from Russia; and she has promised to remain there,--but who knows? If the whim seizes her, or if she imagines her presence is needed here, she will return."

"Yes, I guess she will," I conceded. (How well he understood her.)

"She is utterly without fear, utterly reckless of danger," he continued.

"If she should be lured back to Russia, as her enemies on both sides will endeavor to lure her, she will be in deadly peril, from which even those who would give their lives for her may not be able to save her."

"At least you can tell me if her father has joined her?" I asked.

"Her father? No, I cannot tell you that; simply because I do not know.

But, as I have said, so long as she remains in the retreat that has been found for her she will be safe. As for this--" he took up the blossom and rubbed it to a morsel of pulp, between his thumb and finger, "you will be wise to conceal your knowledge of it, Mr. Wynn; that is, if you value your life. And now I must leave you. We shall meet again ere long, I trust. I am summoned to Peterhof; and I may be there for some time. If you wish to communicate with me--"

He broke off, and remained silent, in frowning thought, for a few seconds.