“Well?” he asked, with a sorry endeavour to remain cool, “why are you all here? This is an unexpected pleasure, I assure you.”
It was Sonia who, standing before him with dark, flashing eyes, answered in a tone of fierce hatred and contempt,—
“I have come, Andrew, to present my congratulations upon your forthcoming marriage,” she said, with her pronounced foreign accent.
“They could have been conveyed by a penny stamp,” he retorted impatiently.
“You taunt me, do you?” she cried in a towering passion. “You, the cunning, cowardly spy whom I shielded because you professed love for me. Had I spoken long ago you would have met with your deserts, either at the hands of the Nihilists, or at those of justice. Although myself a criminal I yearned for love, and foolishly believing that you cared for me, preserved the secret of your guilt, allowing you to wreck the happiness of Geoffrey Deedes, the man who twice proved my friend, and of Elizaveta, the only honest woman who ever spoke kindly to me or endeavoured to induce me to reform. Because you were chief of the Tzar’s spies and I was notorious, with plenty of money always at command, you imagined that you held me irrevocably. Well, for a time, you did. Your false protestations of affection caused me to refrain from exposing your base, cunning, heartless infamy. It was you, with your renegade underling Renouf, who contrived to get me introduced to Elizaveta in order to further your own ends; but it was you also, when fearing that I might make some ugly revelations, made unfounded allegations against me to General Sekerzhinski, and informed him of my whereabouts, so that I was compelled to fly from Pembroke Road and seek shelter where I could.”
His eyes were fixed upon her with a look of fierce hatred, and he muttered some incoherent words between his teeth.
“Yes,” she went on defiantly, “I know you are anxious to close my lips, because of the startling disclosures it is within my power to make. The Department in St Petersburg have in you a keen, cunning spy, but when it becomes known throughout England that Andrew Beck, the popular Member for West Rutlandshire, is in the pay of the Russian Government, do you anticipate that you will still occupy your seat in the House of Commons, or at the Committee you have so ingeniously obtained for the investigation of the strength of England’s defences?”
He started. His face was ashen pale; his cigar dropped from his nerveless, trembling fingers.
“Geoffrey,” she went on, “has already heard from Elizaveta how cleverly you tricked her, and with what dastard knavishness you compelled her to instigate the theft of the secret convention. She—”
“Then the world shall know that the Grand Duchess Elizaveta Nicolayevna is in the Secret Service!” he cried fiercely. “She has betrayed her country and her kinsman, the Emperor!”