‘Possibly you are right—possibly you are right,’ her companion returned thoughtfully. ‘It was a little bit of vanity on my part, but it slipped out. However, all will be well. Our plans are so well laid it is impossible for them to miscarry.’
‘Nothing is impossible; nothing should be counted upon as certain until it is accomplished,’ the girl said.
‘You are a nice sort of Job’s comforter. Do, for goodness’ sake, keep quiet!’ answered the man snappishly. He was evidently in a highly nervous state, and very irritable. ‘Well, I must go. Be sure, now, that you don’t stir from here until I return.’
‘I understand,’ said the girl. ‘But, remember, the suspense will be awful. Don’t be away from me a minute longer than you can help.’
He promised that he would not. Then, taking up his hand-bag, he embraced his companion and went out. Making his way down to the quay, he hired a boat, and instructed the boatman to row him to the Imperial yacht.
On reaching the vessel, he was challenged by the sentry on duty at the gangway, and he replied that he had come on official business, and had a Government order. Whereupon he was allowed to get on to the lower grating of the steps, where an officer came to him, and he produced a Government document, stamped with the official seal, and setting forth that his name was Ivan Orloff, that he was one of the naval clockmakers, and had been sent down to adjust all the clocks on board the North Star preparatory to the Czar’s arrival. Such an order could not be gainsaid, so he was admitted on board, but an armed sailor was told off to accompany him about the ship, and show him where the various clocks were situated. There were a good many clocks, as every officer had one in his cabin.
The man came at last to the Czar’s suite of apartments in the newly-constructed deckhouse. The sailor paused at the entrance to cross himself before a sacred picture that hung on the bulkhead, but Orloff pushed on, and, passing beneath costly and magnificent curtains, he reached the Czar’s sleeping-cabin, which was a dream of splendour. With quick, hurried movements he took from his bag an oblong box, turned a handle on an index dial, and placed the box beneath the royal bed. He scarcely had time to recover his position, and get to a chest of drawers on which stood a superb clock, when the sailor entered, and said gruffly:
‘You ought to have waited for me.’
‘I’m in a hurry, friend,’ said Orloff. ‘I want to get my work finished and return to St. Petersburg to-night.’
As he lifted the glass shade off the clock, his hands trembled and his face was as white as marble, but the sailor did not notice it.