“They know how completely the Tsarevitch’s life is in our hands,” said Mirkovitch authoritatively. “They cannot defy us, they are bound to treat and bargain with us. We might demand the freedom of every convict now languishing in Siberia, and they would have to remember that the heir to all the Russias sleeps with a dagger held over his heart, and be bound to grant what we ask.”
“But let them be just and merciful, and we will be so likewise,” added the president’s more gentle voice; “let Dunajewski and all those concerned in the last plot cross the frontier with a free pass, and that day the Tsarevitch will be restored to liberty. But let Alexander understand also that, the day on which there is the slightest suspicion of police investigation, the life of the hostage will from that hour be considered forfeited.”
There was no reply to this; the president had been putting into words the decision of all those assembled. Mirkovitch still sat, his powerful fist clutched on the table, in his eyes a dark, lurid fire that told of dangerous thoughts.
“There is one person whom, I think, the committee have omitted to consider,” said a voice at last, breaking the silence, that had lasted some minutes, “and that is Lavrovski.”
“Pardon me,” said the president, “we have, I think, all thought of that incompetent, though, at the present moment, important personage, and all reflected as to what his possible attitude would be throughout.”
“I have not the slightest doubt,” said a voice from the further end of the table, “that it will take Lavrovski some days before he will make up his mind to communicate with his own government.”
“Yes,” assented another, “I have met him in Petersburg once or twice, and he has always given me the idea of being a weak and irresolute man.”
“Whose first feeling, when he realises—and it will take him some days to do that—that the Tsarevitch has effectually disappeared, will be one of intense terror, lest the blame for the disappearance be primarily laid upon him, and he be despatched to Siberia to expiate his negligence.”
“And the fool puts up with being a mere valet to a dynasty who would treat him with such baseness, and serving a government which, at the first opportunity, would turn on him and whip him like a cur,” muttered Mirkovitch wrathfully.
“We have, therefore, every chance in our favour,” resumed the president, “that Lavrovski will not communicate with Petersburg, at any rate for the first few days, whilst he will be busying himself in trying to obtain some clue or idea as to his charge’s whereabouts.”