‘But I should like you to go,’ answered Danevitch. ‘Indeed, I consider it of some importance that you should go. A little drama may be enacted in which you can play a part.’
The Minister looked hard at Danevitch, as if trying to read his thoughts, and asked pointedly:
‘Do you suspect Briazga of having stolen the Treasury notes?’
‘Will you pardon me for simply saying at this moment that it would be imprudent for me to answer your question?’
‘Will you be there?’
‘Again I must respectfully decline to answer the question.’
‘But you have an object in wishing me to be present.’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘Then I will go.’
Whereupon the Minister hastily pencilled a note on a slip of paper torn from his note-book, and sent it by one of the church attendants to Briazga. In the note he simply said he had changed his mind, and would do himself the pleasure of being present at the wedding-feast, as he found he had a couple of spare hours on his hands. Danevitch moved off, and had not got far away, when he was accosted by the chief of the police, who remarked sarcastically: