The message was dated that same day, and timed as having been despatched from Odessa at four-forty.
“Thank you; that will do,” remarked von Schalckenberg, as he thrust the paper into his pocket. “Now,” he continued, “I want you to take a walk with me in the park. We shall pass out through the principal entrance of the château. But I wish to warn you again to be extremely careful, for I assure you that your life hangs by a hair, and if I see that there is even a possibility of anything going wrong I shall shoot you at once, taking my chance with your servants afterwards. So, in the event of our encountering any of your domestics on our way out, you will instantly order them to retire. Now, sir, have the goodness to lead the way.”
And, as the professor spoke, he laid upon the table a document setting forth the fact that Count Vasilovich had been “removed,” as a punishment for the many crimes of which he had been guilty.
The glitter of deadly hate in Vasilovich’s eyes as he faced round and began to move, in obedience to von Schalckenberg’s order, warned the latter to be on his guard; but the professor was not the man to be taken unawares in the prosecution of such an adventure as he had now undertaken, and no doubt Vasilovich saw it, for he led the way so circumspectly as to show plainly that he fully appreciated the imminent peril of his situation. Fortunately for both, perhaps, no one was encountered, either in the house or in the courtyard, as the pair made their way toward the park; and a whispered reminder from von Schalckenberg proved sufficiently effectual to carry them safely past the gate-keeper’s room. Once clear of this point, the rest was easy, and a few minutes later, as the pair passed a clump of laurels, Mildmay stepped forward from his place of concealment and stationed himself on the other side of the prisoner remarking cheerfully—
“So you have captured your man, eh, Professor? Had you any trouble with him? I was beginning to feel a trifle anxious about you.”
Thereupon the professor proceeded to relate briefly his experiences at the château, thus beguiling the way until the curiously assorted trio reached the Flying Fish, at the vast bulk of which Vasilovich stared in stupefied amazement. His captors, however, afforded him but scant time for indulgence in surprise or conjecture, conveying him forthwith to the tank chamber, wherein they securely locked him, taking the additional precaution of placing his hands and feet in fetters and attaching him thereby to a ring-bolt, thus rendering it absolutely impossible for him to do the slightest mischief. Having made everything secure, they hastily changed their attire and joined the rest of the party in the drawing-room, preparatory to sitting down to dinner.
The chief topic of conversation at the dinner-table that night had, naturally, more or less direct reference to the professor’s capture of the tyrant, Vasilovich, and everybody was keenly anxious to learn from von Schalckenberg the full details of the feat. There was nothing for it, therefore, but for the hero of the adventure to describe the incident in extenso. When the relation came to an end Colonel Lethbridge remarked—
“Well, all I can say, Professor, is that it was an exceedingly plucky thing to attempt, and you appear to have carried it through with the most admirable nerve and sangfroid. Were you not afraid that the fellow would raise an alarm and bring all his retainers about you, like a nest of hornets? Had he done so, you would have been a lost man!”
“No doubt,” assented von Schalckenberg, imperturbably. “And of course I had to take the risk of his doing so. But I succeeded in thoroughly convincing him that any attempt of that kind, however successful it might be, would not help him in the least, because I should shoot him dead at the first indication of such an intention, and long before assistance could possibly arrive. And, as I had anticipated, his regard for his own life was sufficient to deter him from throwing it away for the sake of the very doubtful posthumous gratification of knowing that he had placed mine in jeopardy. In a word, he was simply too great a coward to risk so much for the sake of mere revenge.”
“Well,” observed Mildmay, “it was as magnificent an exhibition of ‘bluff’ as I have ever heard of. You have been completely successful thus far, Professor; and now, the most difficult part of your scheme being accomplished, I see no reason whatever why we should not be equally successful in the other part; in which event,” turning to Feodorovna, “I shall hope to have the pleasure of witnessing your reunion with your father to-morrow.”