“Very well,” he replied at last, selecting another cigarette from the big golden box upon the table, “I will say nothing—if you so desire. But, remember, you have made yourself responsible for the woman.”
“I willingly accept the responsibility,” I replied. “But, Your Majesty, there is another matter. I would suggest that Hartwig be detailed to remain with Her Highness the Grand Duchess Natalia at Brighton until my return. He is there at present, awaiting Your Majesty’s orders.”
At my words he rang a bell, and Calitzine, his private secretary, appeared, bowing.
“Send a telegram at once to Hartwig. Where is he?” he asked, turning to me.
“At the Hotel Métropole, Brighton,” I said.
“Telegraph to him in cipher that I order him to remain with Natalia until further orders.”
“Very well, Your Majesty,” replied the trusted official, bowing.
“And another thing,” exclaimed the Emperor. “Telegraph, also in cipher, to all Governors of Siberian provinces that Mr Colin Trewinnard, of London, is our guest during his journey across Siberia, and is to be treated as such by all authorities.”
“But pardon me, Your Majesty,” I ventured to interrupt, “would not that make it plain to those persons in Petersburg of whom I spoke a moment ago.”
“Ah! I forgot,” said the Emperor. “Write the telegram, and send a confidential courier with it to Tiumen, across the Siberian frontier. He will despatch it from there, and it will then only go over the Asiatic wires.”