“The Czar remains silent from a mistaken sense of honour. Looking upon Paul’s death as a regrettable accident, Alexander would deem it a breach of faith on his part were he to denounce those with whom he was equally a conspirator. He had pledged his written word that the ministers should retain office. That word he will not break. But he must be made to break it. And the Empress sees but one way. There is something greater than even the power of a Czar, and that is, the will of a united people. Why do the ministers conceal their crime? Because they fear the people. Let the millions of Russia learn how Paul came by his end, and there will arise a flood of indignation strong enough to sweep the ministers from power. But that day will not come till a man be found bold enough to proclaim the truth.”
“And does the Empress invite me to be the avenger of that Czar who, for no fault at all, would have had me knouted to death?”
“Yes, for she judges that Lord Courtenay is too noble to refuse an act of justice to a fallen foe.”
“Humph!” said Wilfrid, immensely flattered; “is Alexander a party to this scheme?”
“No. It is of the Empress’s own devising.”
“She leaves it to an Englishman to teach her son his duty?”
The Duchess winced.
“How hard you are on Alexander!”
He was, and that because he wished to disillusion her of her idea that Alexander was a hero. “Women are all alike,” he thought; by “women” meaning the Duchess and Pauline. “A crown dazzles them. A king can do no wrong.”
“Has her majesty,” he continued aloud, “any plan for me, or am I left to follow my own devices?”