CHAPTER XIII
It may very safely be taken for granted, I think, that the happiness orunhappiness, success or non-success, of one's life is brought about notso much by deliberate education or design, if I may so express it, asby some small event, the proper importance of which is far from beingrecognisable at the time. For instance, had Browne not undertaken thatyachting cruise to Norway when he did, it is scarcely probable he wouldever have met Katherine Petrovitch. In that case he would verypossibly have married the daughter of some impecunious peer, havebolstered up a falling house with his wealth, have gone intoParliament, received a title in due course, and would eventually havedescended to the family vault, in most respects a mediocre man. But,as Fate willed, he _did_ go to Norway--met Katherine, fell in love withher, and now---- But there, with such a long story before me, it willscarcely do for me to risk an anti-climax by anticipating. Let itsuffice that, after he had said "good-bye" to Maas, he lunched at theclub, deriving a certain amount of pleasure meanwhile from theknowledge that he was engaged in a business which, should it becomeknown, would undoubtedly plunge him into a considerable amount of hotwater! And when you come to think of it, how strange is the pleasurethe human mind finds in the possession of a secret! In our childhoodit is a joy second only to the delight of a new toy. Anarchism,Nihilism, Fenianism, and indeed the fundamental principle of everyorder of secret society, is the same thing, only on a larger and moredangerous scale, carried out by perverted imaginations and in the wrongdirection. The fact, however, remains, that Browne, as I have said,derived a considerable amount of satisfaction from the feeling that hewas, in a certain sense, a conspirator. Plainly as he had expressedhimself to Katherine, however, it is extremely doubtful whether hehimself realised how difficult and dangerous the task he had taken uponhimself was likely to prove. The Russian Government, at the best oftimes, is like dynamite, a thing to be handled carefully; and oneminute's consideration was sufficient to show him that the work he hadpledged himself to undertake was not one that, in the event of thingsgoing wrong, would entitle him to the sympathy of his own Government.He thought of the Duke of Matlock, and wondered what he would say if itshould ever become known that he, John Grantham Browne, had assisted inthe escape of a Russian Nihilist from the island of Saghalien. Hecould very well imagine the pious horror of the Duchess when thevarious rumours, which would be certain to go the round of the clubs,should reach her ears. And this suggested a still more unpleasantreflection. What if he should fail in his attempt to rescue the man,and should find himself in the clutches of the Russian Bear? Whatwould his fate be then? His own country could scarcely demand hisrelease, seeing that he would, in all probability, be caughtred-handed. He put the thought away from him, however, as havingnothing to do with the case. It was Katherine's father who stood inneed of assistance, and it was Katherine's happiness which was atstake. That was enough for him. With the remembrance of hergratitude, and of the look he had seen in her face, when he hadpromised to help her, still fresh in his mind, such a thing as countingthe cost was not to be thought of. Having finished his lunch, hereturned to his hotel, to find a note upon his sitting-room table. Itwas from Katherine. He opened it, with a feeling that was halfeagerness and half fear in his heart, and read as follows:
"DEAR LOVE,--How can I make you see how good I think you are, and howlittle I deserve such treatment at your hands! There is no one else inthe world who would do what you have done, and I shall thank God alwaysfor sending you to my assistance. Believe me, I know how much you arerisking, and how much you are giving up, and are willing to forfeit,for my sake. Oh, if I could only repay you as you deserve! But, comewhat may, you will always have my love, and my life-long gratitude.To-night an old friend will be with us, who in happier days knew myfather. Will you not come and let me introduce you to him?"
The letter was signed, "Your loving Katherine," and to Browne thisseemed to be the pith and essence of its contents. How different itwas from the note he had received that morning! They were as differentas light and darkness, as black and white, as any simile that could beemployed. In one she had declared that it was impossible for her everto become his wife, and in the other she signed herself, "Your lovingKatherine." Of course he would go that evening, not because the oldman had been acquainted with her father, for he would have gone just aswillingly if he had had a bowing acquaintance with her grandmother.All he wanted was the opportunity of seeing Katherine, of being in thesame house and room with her, of watching the woman he loved, and whohad promised to be his wife.
Accordingly, that evening after dinner, he hailed a cab and drove tothe Rue Jacquarie. As he passed along the crowded thoroughfares, hecould not help contrasting the different occasions on which he hadvisited that street. The first time had been on the night of hisarrival in Paris, when he had gone there in order to locate the house;the next was that on which he had repaired there in response to thenote from Madame Bernstein; then, again, on the morning of that happyday they had spent together at Fontainebleau; while the last was afterthat miserable letter he had received from Katherine, in which she badehim give up the idea that she could ever become his wife.
On this occasion it was indeed a happy young man who jumped out of thevehicle and nodded to the _concierge_ as he passed her and ran up thestairs. When he knocked at the door of Madame's sitting-room, a voicefrom within told him to enter. He did so, to find Katherine, Madame,and an old gentleman, whom he had never seen before, seated there.Katherine hastened forward to greet him. If he had not already beenrewarded for all the anxiety and pain he had experienced during thelast few days, and for the promise he had given that morning, the lookupon her face now would have fully compensated him.
"I thought you would come," she said; and then, dropping her voice alittle, she added, "I have been watching the hands of the clock, andwaiting for you."
But, even if Katherine were so kind in her welcome to him, she was notdestined to have the whole ceremony in her hands, for by this timeMadame Bernstein had risen from her chair and was approaching him.Browne glanced at her, and his instinct told him what was coming.Knowing the lady so well, he felt convinced she would not permit suchan opportunity to pass without making the most of it.
"Ah, Monsieur Browne," she began, her voice trembling with emotion andthe ready tear rising in her eye, "you cannot understand how we feeltowards you. Katherine has told me of your act of self-sacrifice. Itis noble of you; it is grand! But Heaven will reward you for yourgoodness to an orphan child."
"My dear Madame Bernstein," said Browne, who by this time was coveredwith confusion, "you really must not thank me like this. I do notdeserve it. I am not doing much after all; and besides, it is forKatherine's sake, and that makes the difference. If we succeed, as Ihope and trust we shall, it will be an adventure that we shall rememberall our lives long." He stopped suddenly, remembering that there was athird person present who might not be in the secret. Being aningenuous youth, the thought of his indiscretion caused him to blushfuriously. Katherine, however, was quick to undeceive him.
"You need have no fear," she said; "we are all friends here. Let meintroduce you to Herr Otto Sauber, who, as I told you in my letter, isan old friend of my father's."
The old man, sitting at the farther end of the room, rose and hobbledforward to take Browne's hand. He was a strange-looking little fellow.His face was small and round, his skin was wrinkled into a thousandfurrows, while his hair was snow-white, and fell upon his shoulders inwavy curls. His age could scarcely have been less than seventy.Trouble had plainly marked him for her own; and if his threadbaregarments could be taken as any criterion, he was on the verge of actualpoverty. Whatever his nationality may have been, he spoke French,which was certainly not his mother-tongue, with considerable fluency.
"My dear young friend," he said, as he took Browne's hand, "allow me,as an old man and a patriot, to thank you for what you are about to do.I sum up my feelings when I say that it is an action I do no
t think youwill ever regret." Then, placing his hand on the girl's shoulder, hecontinued: "I am, as I understand Katherine has told you, an old friendof her father's. I remember him first as a strong, high-spirited lad,who had not a base thought in his nature. I remember him later as aman of more mature years, whose whole being was saddened by theafflictions and wrongs his fellow-countrymen were suffering; and stilllater on I wished him God-speed upon his weary march, with his brotherexiles, to Siberia. In God's good time, and through your agency, Ilook forward to welcoming him among us once more. Madame Bernsteintells me you love the little Katherine here. If so, I can only saythat I think you are going the right way to prove it. I pray that youmay know long life and happiness together."
The old gentleman was genuinely affected. Large tears trickled downhis weather-beaten cheeks, and his voice became thick and husky.Browne's tender heart was touched by this unexpected display ofemotion, and he felt a lump rising in his throat, that for a fewseconds threatened to choke him. And yet, what was there to accountfor it? Only a young man, a pretty girl, a stout middle-aged lady in apuce gown, and a seedy old foreigner, who, in days long gone by, hadknown the young girl's father. After this little episode they quieteddown somewhat, and Madame Bernstein proposed that they should discussthe question they had so much at heart. They did so accordingly, withthe exception of the old gentleman, who sat almost silent. It was notuntil he heard her expound the subject, that Browne became aware of theextent and thoroughness of Madame's knowledge concerning Russia and hercriminal administration. She was familiar with every detail, even tothe names and family histories of the various governors and officers;she knew who might be considered venal, and whom it would be dangerousto attempt to bribe; who were lenient with their charges, and who lostno opportunity of tyrannizing over the unfortunates whom Fate hadplaced in their power. Listening to her one might very well havesupposed that she had herself travelled every verst of that weary road.Plan after plan she propounded, until Browne felt his brain reel underthe strain of it. A little before midnight he rose to leave, and HerrSauber followed his example.
"If Monsieur Browne is walking in the direction of the Rue de l'Opera,I should be glad of his company," he said. "That is to say, if he hasno objection to being hindered by a poor old cripple, who can scarcelydraw one foot after the other."
Browne expressed the pleasure such a walk would afford him; and, whenthey had bidden the ladies good-night, they set off together.