The Emperors Candlesticks | Page 4

footstep, and a rap at
the door caught her ear, still on the alert. She took up a cigarette from a
little case that lay close to her hand; she felt it would calm her nerves,
and steady her voice.
A man entered - flat-nosed, high cheek-boned Russian of the lower
classes, whose low forehead betokened an absence of what is usually
called intellectuality, but whose piercing, cold, grey eyes, deeply sunk
between the thinnest of lids, spoke of cunning and alacrity. A useful
man, no doubt. Madame Demidoff seemed more calm the moment she
spoke to him.

"Eugen," she said, "listen to me, for something very mysterious has
happened at the opera ball to-night, and there is some work you must
do for me now, at once, and also during the course of to-morrow.
"The Tsarevitch went to the opera ball to-night disguised as a black
domino... Yes! he was in Vienna... Incognito... No one knew it... The
whole thing was foolish in the extreme, and I am beginning to fear
some foul agency must have been at work, he was decoyed from his
opera-box by a woman dressed as an odalisque... in red and gold, I
think... no matter the description... There were hundreds in that guise at
the opera. Nicholas Alexandrovitch followed her; a faiker was waiting
for them; he jumped in, and it drove off at great rapidity towards the
old town."
"Yes, barina!"
For she had paused a moment to collect her thoughts before giving him
her final instructions.
"You must find out for me first whether the Tsarevitch has returned to
his hotel, and if not, what steps Count Lavrovski is taking to discover
the key to the mystery. You must dog the old man's every footstep, and
if her goes to the police, or sends any telegraphic message across to
Petersburg, you must apprise me of it at once. Moreover, both outside
the opera house, at the faiker stations, ands at the various railways, you
must glean what scraps of information you can relating to the flying
odalisque and domino, or the faiker that drove them. I leave by the
express for Petersburg to-morrow at midnight; you must come and tell
me what you have learnt in the early part of the evening."
She dismissed him now, and when once more alone she sat and thought
over the occurrences of to-night. Then it was that and anon the wistful
look - almost of yearning, that rendered her aristocratic face so sweet
and tender - crept into her eyes; but when it came, the impatient little
sigh and self-contemptuous frown invariably accompanied it. Surely
this worldly woman, this elegant grande dame, would not allow even
the faintest vestige of sentiment to creep up among her recollections of
the gay carnival ball, more especially as that sentiment was evidently

directed towards one who ---
"Ah me!" Madame Demidoff sighed again, threw away her cigarette,
and rang for her maid, all with the idea of putting an end to any more
thinking that night.
CHAPTER 3
As soon as Ivàn Volenski lost sight completely of Madame Demidoff's
carriage, he, with a sigh of relief, retraced his steps up the wide stairs of
the opera house, and joined a couple of dominoes, who, dressed like
himself in uniform grey, stood isolated among the groups of masks that
encumbered the entrance to the foyer. Together all three began
sauntering in the direction of the Kolowàtring.
They walked on in silence for some time, smoking cigarettes and
pushing their way through the crowd as best they could.
On the Ringstrasse the scene was as gay as ever; laughing groups of
masks in bands of a score or so occupying the whole width of the street
made progress somewhat difficult. But the three grey dominoes seemed
in no great hurry; they exchanged jests where repartee was expected of
them, and mixed with the crowd where it was impossible to avoid it.
The sumptuous houses and gorgeously decorated shops on either side
were illuminated with many coloured lights, changing this midnight
hour into light as broad as day. On the balconies, gaily festooned with
flowers, groups of onlookers gazed on the animated scene below,
whilst every now and then, from some opened windows, dreamy
waltzes and weird csárdás mingled with the noisy street cries and
laughter, telling of aristocratic balls and parties, where the King
Carnival was courted with equal mirth if somewhat less exuberance and
noise. Sometimes the groups of mummers would stop beneath some of
these windows and watch the bejewelled figures flitting to-and-fro, and
listen to the soft cadences of the gipsy music - the one thing Hungarian,
the Viennese cannot bring themselves to despise.
But the three dominoes did not pause long, amidst this gay and bustling

scene, nor did