By Right of Sword

by Arthur W. Marchmont

The official reasoning was that if the train in which the Czar was publicly but erroneously believed to be travelling could pass safely, then that in which His Majesty would actually be, would be sure to get by without mishap. The Nihilist plans were laid in full knowledge of the official theory.

A part of the line about ten miles from the city where the rails ran in a dead straight course over a comparatively flat country for some five or six miles was chosen for the attack; and it was chosen because it was that which the authorities would the least suspect, since it was most easy to watch and guard. A man standing at either end of the long, flat, straight stretch could with a glass watch, not only the line itself, but also the land adjoining the line. Of all the spots the train would pass this was by far the unlikeliest to be selected for any Nihilist attack.

The most prominent and conspicuous spot of all was that, moreover, which was picked out for the actual attempt. At that particular point a shallow dip in the fields caused the line to be embanked to a height of some ten or twelve feet; and the key of the plan was to fix levers to two of the rails so that they could be moved at the very last moment, just when the train was within a few yards of them. In this way the train would be turned off the metals and sent over the embankment into the field.

The levers, worked by electric motive power, were of course out of sight under the wooden sleepers: and the wires were trailed in tubes down inside the embankment and away through field-drains to a house more than half a mile distant from the line, where the operators were to remain until after the "accident."

Personally, I did not dislike the scheme: because I thought I could see several ways in which I could prevent any fatal outcome; should I have to remain in the country long enough to compel me to take part in it. It would be easy enough for me to appear to lose my head at the last moment, for instance, and so bungle matters that the men who were to kill the Emperor would be in fact prevented from approaching him.

But there was also in this a desperate personal risk to myself. I knew that these men would be picked from among the most reckless and daring spirits in the Empire; men suffering under the grossest personal wrongs as well as motived by wild political fanaticism. To them the blood of either friend or foe was as nothing if it stood in the way of what their unbalanced minds deemed justice and right.

It was thus a perilous and slippery eminence to which I had been thrust, and it increased infinitely the hazard of my course.

My thoughts returned to the idea of flight with redoubled incentive, therefore; and a circumstance occurred which seemed to promise me some help in this direction.

A letter came to me from "Hamylton Tregethner." Olga's brother had escaped, as we knew, and had made his way to Paris. He was going on, he said, to America as soon as he had enjoyed himself: and when he found himself in New York, he purposed to change his name and nationality once more and be a Pole.

"I have not had many adventures," he wrote; "nor do I seem to have met many men who know me. But I had one encounter that was rather amusing. I was at breakfast and saw a man staring hard at me from the other side of the room. I thought he might be a friend, and so I did not look at him. But he would not let his eyes move from me, and when I left the table he followed and spoke to me. 'Hamylton, old man, I did not know you at first. You're looking frightfully ill and altered. You're not going to cut me.' This gave me a cue, though I did not understand all he said, when he added something about 'on account of somebody's conduct.' I did cut him, however; looked him hard in the face and curling my lip as if in profound contempt, I turned on my heel. I had the curiosity to ask afterwards who he was, and they gave me his name as the Hon. Rupert Balestier. I suppose I know him, but I thought the best way was not to speak. I did not shake him off, however: for that night he saw me again just when I was speaking English to some other men. I saw him listening as if he could not believe his ears; and as soon as I was alone he came up and asked me who I was and what right I had to masquerade as his old friend, Hamylton Tregethner. For answer I gave him another stare and got away. Then I changed my hotel and am going away from Paris for a few days. I do not intend to be bothered by the man."