Involuntarily, Schilder, Meredith, and her father recoiled before such fiendish malice. Only Grail held himself unmoved.
“Ah, captain?” The Russian turned to him. “You doubt me, eh? You don’t think I will do what I say? Well, I will show you. I go now to set the torch.”
“No; I don’t think so!” There was something in Grail’s quiet tone which held the other in spite of himself.
“I won’t, eh? Why not?[{46}]”
“Because, despite the cleverness of the note you sent me to-night, I suspected it was a forgery, and left it with the telegraph operator at the fort, instructing him, in case it disappeared, to transmit without delay a dispatch I left with him at the same time.
“The dispatch,” he continued, “was to our secretary of state at Washington, giving a full account of your acts of the past three days, and asking him to communicate them to the Russian ambassador. So, Captain Rezonoff, inasmuch as you have already exceeded your instructions, and, as the agent of your government, been guilty of an outrage which must seriously embarrass the Russian foreign office, I do not think you will care to go to such extremes as you threaten.”
The emissary’s face paled. He knew what it meant to fail in such a mission as he had undertaken—to be recalled in disgrace.
“The Russian government,” Grail added pointedly, “will hardly countenance criminal acts on the part of one of its emissaries, done for purposes of private revenge. More than that, Rezonoff, you know that the affair in which Colonel Vedant was involved, many years ago, in Russia, affected his honor, and that he acquitted himself with honor. Your present attempts at a belated revenge are the acts of a vindictive and dishonorable man. It looks very bad for you!”
Captain Rezonoff took a step forward, and gazed at Grail anxiously. “Has that message been sent to Washington?” he asked chokingly.
“Many hours ago, I believe,” returned Grail quietly. “It has surely been sent if your forged letter disappeared, as you planned to have it, and if the——”