The Adventures of an Ugly Girl

by Mrs. George Corbett

“What weapons has she in her possession?”

“None that we have seen. She has not yet been searched.”

“Remove her, and search her.”

Up to this point I had remained silent, for my tongue refused to utter a sound. But the prospect of suffering the indignity of having my clothing removed for the purpose of examination made me utter a startled protest. There was, indeed, a tiny English revolver hidden in my dress for defensive purposes. But how was I to convince these stern martinets that I would never have dreamed of hurting any one, unless it was absolutely necessary, in order to save either my own life or my husband’s.

“Indeed!” I cried, forgetting that I was not speaking to a meeting of English people, “I assure you that I am innocent of the remotest intention of injuring any one belonging to you. And surely I have already suffered indignity enough!”

There was a slight movement of surprise, as if my nationality had been unsuspected, and then one of the black-cloaked figures who had hitherto not spoken stepped forward, and addressed the president in a low tone. Receiving an affirmative reply to some suggestion which he offered, he proceeded to cross-question me in very good English.

I am sure that I created an unfavorable impression where I was most anxious to be conciliatory, for, after partially unfolding my story, I was seized with sudden alarm on behalf of Sergius, and forthwith became as reticent as I had a few moments before been voluble. For was it not possible that undue candor on my part might betray some secret hitherto carefully preserved by my husband? Suppose his marriage, while still a member of this dread society, was against the rules? And suppose I were betraying a secret that might prove fatal to him, if I spoke of his recent absence from the country for which he had sworn to give up his life? Of all that concerned his connection with the people who now had me in their power he had told me nothing, and in all likelihood his reticence on this subject was entirely due to considerations of personal safety. Perhaps he was under oath to reveal nothing. How, then, was I to account not merely for my knowledge of the fact that he was a member of this society, but of the still more perilous secret of his motive for returning to Russia? Or of my own object in following him?

Would not my admission that my presence in Moscow was the result of my private determination to frustrate an event which they regarded as necessary for the salvation of their country be sufficient to procure my own death-warrant as well as my husband’s? Mine because they must necessarily regard me as an enemy, his because he was, even if unwillingly, the cause of my knowledge of their deadly secret. Alas! where was he? Surely, if he were present, he would at once have tried to save me from the summary fate which hung over me. And yet, to do so might be to risk his own safety.

Truly, vanity was never reproved more cruelly than mine was then! When the Princess Nina had told me that, so far from my presence near him being advantageous to Sergius, it might prove an additional source of peril, I did not believe her, since I meant to be too cautious to run into danger. And here I was, in dire extremity, and likely to involve my dear husband in my own ruin, all because I had had too much faith in the superiority of my own judgment.

The position, too, was one that was very difficult to understand. How did I come to be classed with the man who had already succumbed to the swift vengeance of this terrible society? The solution of this question was beyond my powers, but I was at least able to grasp one fact. Sergius must be the Number Finis whom the stranger was said to have been shadowing. And his safety was of such importance to the society that protectors, two and three deep, followed in his wake.