The Argosy, January 1907 — page 65: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

BY THE SECRET DOOR. Her lips quivered, and suddenly she hid her face in her hands and he heard her weeping. ‘Perhaps you will tell me his name,” he said harshly. “ The name of the man you love.” She brushed the tears from her eyes. “That I shall not, Captain Crenyon,” she replied; “ never—never!” and she swept away up the path to the house. On the ground lay the white lilac she had cast aside as she had ‘cast aside his love; and he had traveled half across the world to see her again! it. Morirzsky was drinking iced tea in his library when his guest came in from the garden and Crenyon asked him about the Duma. He laughed scornfully. “They are giving the Czar indiges- tion,” he replied. ‘“ Let them sow the tares and reap the whirlwind. Fools and muzhiks! | His guest helped himself to a glass of tea. “It will probably be you who will reap the whirlwind,” he remarked teasingly. “This is dawn in Russia.” “Dawn for the anarch!” Moritzsky said tartly. ‘ Bah! Crenyon, tell me, in- stead, where you met the Princess Xenia?” Crenyon stirred his tea slowly. ‘IT met the Princess Ivanoff in Mo- naco,” he replied at last; “‘and, by the way, isn’t this weather unusually hot for St. Petersburg?” Moritzsky laughed. ‘My dear fellow, the Princess Xenia usually makes it summer-time,” he said maliciously. ‘“[ hear she is to be married,’ Crenyon observed, with fine indifference. ‘Ah! she told you, then,” Moritzsky said; “it has only been whispered here. She is to marry General Roditchey.” ‘An old love-affair?’’ Crenyon sug- gested. The Russian laughed. “She hates him,” he replied. her brother; you know the story?” “I know nothing,’ Crenyon retorted grimly. “Her brother is a_ fool, tainted with this heresy,” Moritzsky explained ; “there it is in a nutshell. He got in ¢é It’s —_— 247 with these revolutionists, was drawn by lot to kill Ushakoff, attempted it, failed, and escaped by the aid, as we all know, of his sister, and has since eluded the police, but they’re hot on his trail. It’s whispered that this man Roditchev has some clue—that her brother’s life is the price she pays.”’ The American tossed his cigarette out of the window and faced him squarely. ‘Is it possible,” he demanded, “ that there is such a knave unhung?”’ Moritzsky’s shrug answered him. “I need\not ask another question ; this is the lode-star which drew you to the north! ‘The princess is a charming girl, but she will marry—Roditchev.” “Her brother permitting the -sacri- fice?”’? Crenyon asked indignantly. “Her brother, Prince Basil, is the most selfish young man unhung,” replied Moritzsky coldly. “ They say she would buy his freedom with her own, and Roditchev is wealthy, high-placed, secure. What would you? It’s the common lot of women.” : Crenyon turned. his back on him, quell- ing a sudden passioriate desire to wring his neck. ‘Who is this Roditchev?”’ he asked at last. ‘‘ What power has he to terrorize a girl who must be his superior in birth and social place? ”’ “His superior by birth,” replied Moritzsky placidly, “and in social posi- tion, I admit, but in power—no, a thousand times no! It is true that there are men of higher rank, but what if she prefers Roditchev? He is a power, and has been second only to military dicta- tor. I’ve heard men say that whenever he changed his cuff-buttons he shook down a dozen police spies from _ his sleeves.” Moritzsky smiled pleasantly. “My dear fellow,” he added, “ have some strawberries, and beware of Rodit- chev.” An hour later a servant brought Cren- yon a letter addressed in that pretty flow- ing hand with which he had once been happily acquainted. There were only a few lines, and they read: Forgive me; I did not mean it. I was foolish. My aunt is at home in the eve- ning; will you come to see us? It is - Conniclools (E@)