The Secret of the Night Part 47

"Then she knows nothing, Sire. That is better, Sire, because Your Majesty and me, we must forget right from to-day that we know anything."

"You are right," said the Tsar thoughtfully. "But, my friend, what am I to do for you?"

"Sire, one favor. Do not let me miss the train at 10:55."

And he threw himself on his knees.

"Remain on your knees, my friend. You are ready, thus. Monsieur le Marechal will prepare at once a brevet, which I will immediately sign. Meantime, Monsieur le Marechal, find me, in my own closet, one of my St. Anne's collars."

And it was thus that Joseph Rouletabille, of "L'Epoque," was created officer of St. Anne of Russia by the Emperor himself, who gave him the accolade.

"They combine the whole course of time in this country," thought Rouletabille, pressing his hand to his eyes to hold back the tears.

For the train at 10:55 everybody had crowded at Tsarskoie-Coelo station. Among those who had come from St. Petersburg to press the young reporter's hand when they learned of his impending departure were Ivan Petrovitch, the jolly Councilor of the Emperor, and Athanase Georgevitch, the lively advocate so well known for his famous exploits with knife and fork. They had come naturally with all their bandages and dressings, which made them look like glorious ruins. They brought the greetings of Feodor Feodorovitch, who still had a little fever, and of Thaddeus Tchitchnikoff, the Lithuanian, who had both legs broken.

Even after he was in his compartment Rouletabille had to drink his last drink of champagne. When nothing remained in the bottle and everyone had embraced and re-embraced him, as the train did not start quite yet, Athanase Georgevitch opened a second "last" bottle. It was then that Monsieur le Grand Marechal arrived, out of breath. They invited him to drink, and he accepted. But he had need to speak to Rouletabille in private, and he drew the reporter, after excuses, out into the corridor.

"It is the Emperor himself who has sent me," said the high dignitary with emotion. "He has sent me about the eider downs. You forgot to explain the eider downs to him."

"Niet!" replied Rouletabille, laughing. "That is nothing. Nitchevo! His Majesty's eider downs are of the finest eider, as one of the feathers that you have shown me demonstrates. Well, open them now. They are a cheap imitation, as the second feather proves. The return of the false eider downs, before evening, proves then that they hoped the subst.i.tution would pa.s.s undetected. That is all. Caracho! Collapse of the hoax. Your health! Vive le Tsar!"

"Caracho! Caracho!"

The locomotive was puffing when a couple were seen running, a man and a woman. It was Monsieur and Madame Gounsovski.

Gounsovski stood on the running-board.

"Madame Gounsovski has insisted upon shaking hands. You are very congenial."

"Compliments, madame."

"Tell me, young man, you did wrong to fail for dinner at my house yesterday."

"I would have certainly escaped a disagreeable little journey into Finland. I do not regret it, monsieur."

The train trembled and moved. They cried, "Vive la France! Vive la Russe!" Athanase Georgevitch wept. Matrena Petrovna, at a window of the station, whither she had timidly retired, waved a handkerchief to the little domovoi-doukh, who had made her see everything in the right light, and whom she did not dare to embrace after the terrible affair of the false poison and the Tsar's anger.

The reporter threw her a respectful kiss.

As he said to Gounsovski, there was nothing to be regretted.

All the same, as the train took its way toward the frontier, Rouletabille threw himself back on the cus.h.i.+ons, and said:

"Ouf!"