I looked eagerly, and saw the form of a woman walking with her head bent against the roaring wind. I recognised the figure and gait as that of Vera Kovalski!
As she moved along towards Eastbourne, we retraced our steps, and followed her to the Queen’s Hotel, where Irteneff, on inquiry, found she had been staying for nearly a month under the name of Mrs. Axford, and also that on several occasions gentlemen had called upon her.
Two hours later I had transferred my abode from the Cavendish to the Queen’s, and having duly installed myself in a room in the same corridor as Madame, I resolved to act promptly.
I did not go down to dinner, but waited till she returned. I heard her close her door; then placing a small phial in my vest pocket, and taking a clean handkerchief from my bag, stole along the corridor and entered her sitting-room without knocking.
She had flung herself upon a couch, but started up on my entrance.
“Ah, my dear Madame,” I commenced, as I closed the door behind me. “So I have found you at last!”
“Found me!” she cried in alarm, springing to her feet. “What do you mean by entering my room in this manner? I know who you are—that your real name is Anton Prèhznev, and that you are a Nihilist. I’ll ring for the servants!”
And she made a dash forward. I was compelled to act without hesitation.
“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” I said, determinedly. As I uttered the words I took out the tiny phial and emptied the contents upon the handkerchief, which a moment later I held firmly over her nose and mouth.