Needless to say that Nello was all attention. He had his own suspicions, which were very close to the truth, but Beilski was probably on the track of the truth itself.
“On the afternoon of the day that you were kidnapped, I received a letter couched in cautious and guarded language to the effect that a carriage, starting from St. Petersburg somewhere about midnight or later, would halt at Pavlovsk. There was a plot on hand to deport a certain person well known in artistic circles. That person would be found in the carriage when it stopped at the first stage on the road to Moscow.”
Nello shuddered. How well he recalled the incidents of that memorable evening—the Prince’s apparent cordiality, the Princess’s almost officious offer of a carriage to convey him home, the short walk through the silent streets, the sudden appearance out of the dark of the four sinister figures, the waking in a room of the little country inn.
“There was a certain significance in the fact that the writer of that anonymous letter, evidently a woman, had not told us where the carriage was to start from. It was evident that while she wished to protect the victim, she also wanted to shield, so far as she could, the perpetrators of the outrage.”
“It was Madame Quéro who wrote that letter?” suggested Nello quickly.
“No, my friend, it was not, although it would be quite correct to say that she was the cause of that letter being written. Of course, I had no clue; the note was left by a young woman whom the porter took very little notice of: he was not at all sure that he would remember her. That night I was dining with the Count—of course, treating the note as a genuine one, I had already acted upon it and despatched the police to Pavlovsk. Just as I was about to leave, a sudden idea occurred to me to show it to Golitzine and ask him if he could help me. His Excellency is a very wonderful man. Above all men that I have met, he possesses, in the highest degree, the qualities of genius and intuition.”
Beilski was not a man who underrated himself, but he was not mean or petty. In this particular matter he was disposed to give to the Count all the credit that was his due, even although it compelled him to play second fiddle.
“With the rapidity of lightning, he jumped at the conclusion that you were the person threatened. We made sure that you were neither at the Zouroff Palace, where you had told him you were going to play, nor at your hotel. Surmise, under such circumstances, became certainty. The rest you can guess almost yourself.”
“All the same, I would like you to tell me, General,” said Corsini.
“The letter served its purpose admirably,” pursued General Beilski. “You were rescued and brought back to St. Petersburg. One significant fact you revealed to us was that La Belle Quéro had strongly dissuaded you from playing at the Palace. Another one, equally significant in our eyes, was that the Princess Nada had urged you not to walk home that night. We put two and two together.”