“No.”
A mighty pang of regret went through him.
“He’ll likely come to in a few minutes,” added the policeman.
Drexel thought quickly. If Freeman revived, this would be no company for him. “Will you take charge of him, and take him to headquarters?” he asked. “I want to catch my horse.”
They were proud to lead to their chief this prize prisoner. Tired as he was, Drexel set off at a swift run in the direction taken by the big black. He sped over the ice till he knew the night blotted him out of the policemen’s vision, then he made for the bank and doubled about in obscure streets.
Now that his fury was spent, the great agony of his love swept into him; and obeying its direction, he made his way among government buildings and palaces, and came out again beside the river and stood leaning upon its granite wall. Behind him was the hushed mansion of the Valenkos. He gazed up at the dim-lighted window where watch was being kept over the sick princess—her for whom all noble St. Petersburg was anxiously concerned. If St. Petersburg only knew! Then he cast his eye across the river to where, in the moonlight, like some fearsome, man-consuming monster of tradition, lay the long, low, black shape that was the Fortress of Peter and Paul; wherein, for close upon two hundred years, men and women distasteful to the Czars had been tortured, murdered, driven mad—wherein this night, in some dark and soundless dungeon, lay the woman of his love, awaiting on the morrow who knew what?
CHAPTER XXII
A VICE-CZAR DOES HIS DUTY
THIS same evening Prince Berloff dined with the Howards at their hotel. There were a score of noble guests, the highest of the new friends Berloff would bring to Alice, and the dinner was as elaborate as Russia’s capital could provide. In a way this was a farewell function given by her parents in honour of Alice; on the day after the morrow, in the gilded splendour of St. Isaac’s Cathedral, she was to become the Princess Berloff. The prince, in his dress uniform of a colonel of the Czar’s guards, with his breast a-glitter with jewelled orders, looked a bridegroom worth any millionaire’s money; and Alice, flushed with excitement, given a new dignity by the nearness of her ennoblement, looked a bride well worth the payment of any princely name.
Berloff knew what was due to happen, while they sat at table, in the house over in Three Saints’ Court. But the expectation that, even while he ate and chatted, he was being put in direct command of the Howard fortune by Drexel’s death, did not make a ripple upon the surface of his composure. He asked Mr. Howard if any further word had been received from Drexel, and affected satisfaction when told of a second letter giving reassurance that Drexel would be back in time for the marriage.
Beneath that calm front blazed a desire to know if all had gone as planned, but midnight had long passed before he could with propriety quit the company and hurry to his apartment. He found Captain Nadson waiting in his study. The captain told of the arrest of the famed White One, and of the evening’s other successes.