I reflected for a moment.
“If it were not that I feared lest misfortune might befall you during my absence, Highness, I would at once follow and overtake her.”
“Oh, but the long journey to Siberia! Why, it would take you at least six months! That is quite impossible.”
“Not impossible, Highness,” I responded very gravely. “I am prepared to undertake the journey for your sake—and hers—for the sake of the Emperor.”
“Ah! I know, Uncle Colin, how good you always are to me, but I couldn’t ask you to undertake a winter journey such as that, in search of poor Marya.”
“If I go, will you, on your part, promise me solemnly not to go out on these night escapades? Indeed, it is not judicious of you to walk out at all, unless one or other of the police-agents is in close attendance upon you. One never knows, in these present circumstances, what may happen,” I said. “And as soon as Markoff knows that I have set out for Siberia, he will guess the reason, and endeavour to bring disaster upon both of us, as well as upon the exile herself.”
For some minutes she did not reply. Then she said: “You must not go. It is too dangerous for you—far too dangerous. I will not allow it.”
“If you refuse to reveal Marya’s secret, then I shall go,” was my quiet response. “I shall ask the Emperor to send you Hartwig, to be near you. He will watch over your safety until my return.”
“Ah! his alertness is simply marvellous,” she declared. “Did you read in the London papers last week how cleverly he ran to earth the three men who robbed the Volga Kama Bank in Moscow of a quarter of a million roubles?”
“Yes. I read the account of it. He was twice shot at by the men before they were arrested. But he seems always to lead a charmed life. While he is at your side, I shall certainly entertain no fear.”