For so Nick Carter read the truth of the incident.
Doubtless the life of Turnieff had already been sworn away by the spies of that unnamed country, which, for the purpose of this story, had been called Siam, but which, of course, was not Siam.
Doubtless it had already been decreed that Turnieff should die that night, after he came away from the reception at the home of the countess. More than likely the five men who appeared so opportunely for their own purposes upon the scene would have murdered the Russian anyway, before he reached his own home. In the quarrel with Nick Carter they had seen an opportunity not only to accomplish what they had been ordered to do, but to cast the blame of it upon another.
Nick regarded it merely as a coincidence that that other should have been himself. He did not associate the murder with that other incident of the night, at the house of the countess. He did not connect her with it, although there were moments when he thought of doing so.
The thing that the crime did tell the detective was this: That Turnieff had been in some way instrumental in the theft of the tin cylinder with its contents, from the house of the ambassador, and that his usefulness was over. Considering him a weakling who might at any time betray them, he had been sacrificed.
And yet—the matter was most opportune.
There was always the possibility that the countess had seen in Turnieff’s anger at Nick Carter for the supposed affront an opportunity of ridding herself of two dangerous men—Turnieff and Nick Carter.
But Nick knew that even if he could ultimately establish his own innocence, there was sure to be much inconvenience and trouble connected with it. He realized when he saw through the thing that the best way for him to do was to get out of sight, and to keep out of sight until he could clear up the mystery and apprehend the real murderers.
That was why he ran away.
That was why, after he had made good his escape, he directed his steps straight for the embassy and roused the ambassador from his slumbers.