Only one man, with knitted brows, regarded the scene with serious disapproval. For decades past he had been regarded as the most influential man in Russia—as a power, in fact, who had constantly thwarted the plans of the leading statesmen and had carried his opinions through with unswerving energy.
This solitary malcontent was Pobiedonostsev, the Chief Procurator of the Holy Synod, who, despite his grey hairs, was detested only less than he was feared.
His gloomy mien and his shake of the head had not escaped the presiding Grand Duke, and the latter evidently considered it to be his duty to give this man who had enjoyed the confidence of three successive Tsars an opportunity of recording his divergent opinion.
At his summons the Chief Procurator arose, and, amid complete silence, said—
“It cannot be my duty to deliver an opinion as to the possibility or on the prospects of an alliance with Germany, for I am as little acquainted as any here present with the intentions and plans of the German Emperor. William II. is the greatest sphinx of our age. He talks much, and his speeches give the impression of complete sincerity; but who can guess what is really behind them? That he has formulated a fixed programme as his life’s work, and that he is the man to carry it out, regardless whether public opinion is on his side or not, thus much appears to me to be certain. If the subjection of England is a part of his programme, then the hopes of the French Minister would, in fact, be no Utopia, only supposing that the Emperor William considers the present the most suitable time for disclosing to the world his ultimate aims. It would be the task of our diplomatic representative at the Court of Berlin to assure himself on this point. But it is quite another question whether Russia really needs an alliance either with Germany or with the Western Power just referred to, and my view of the case leads me to answer this question in the negative. Russia is, at the present time, the last and sole bulwark of absolutism in Europe, and if a ruler called by God’s grace to the highest and most responsible of all earthly offices is to remain strong enough to crush the spirit of rebellion and immorality which here and there, under the influence of foreign elements, has shown itself in our beloved country, we must, before all things, take heed to keep far away from our people the poison of the so-called liberal ideas, infidelity, and atheism with which it seems likely to be contaminated from the West. In like manner, as we, a century ago, crushed the powerful leader of the revolution, so also shall we to-day triumph over our foe—we single-handed! Let our armies march into Persia, Afghanistan, and India, and lead throughout all Asia the dominion of the true faith to victory. But keep our holy Russia uncontaminated by the poison of that heretical spirit, which would be a worse foe than any foreign power can be.”
He sat down, and for a moment absolute silence reigned. The Grand Duke made a serious face, and exchanged a few whispered words with both his nephews.
Then he said: “All the gentlemen who have here given us their views on the situation are agreed that a declaration of war upon England is an exceedingly lamentable but, under the circumstances, unavoidable necessity; yet before I communicate to His Majesty, our gracious Lord, this view, which is that of us all, I put to you, gentlemen, the question whether there is anyone here who is of a contrary opinion. In this case, I would beg of him to address us.”
He waited a short while, but as no one wished to be allowed to speak, he rose from his chair, and with a few words of thanks and a gentle bow to the dignitaries, who had also risen in their places, notified that he regarded the sitting, fraught with momentous consequences for the destiny of the world, as closed.
II
THE OFFICERS’ MESS
The place was Chanidigot, in British East India. The blinding brightness of the hot day had been immediately followed, almost without the transition to twilight, by the darkness of evening, which brought with it a refreshing coolness, allowing all living things to breathe again freely. In the wide plain, which served as the encampment ground for the English regiment of lancers, all was alive again with the setting of the sun. The soldiers, freed from the toil of duty, enjoyed themselves, according to their ideas and dispositions, either in playing cards, singing, or merrily drinking. The large tent, used as a messroom by the officers, also showed signs of life. Dinner was over, and a number of gentlemen sat down to a game of cards, as was their daily custom. But here the amusement was of a less harmless character than in the case of the private soldiers. For not innocent bridge, but “poker” was the order of the day, a game much affected in America and also in some parts of England, a game which is solely determined by chance together with a certain histrionic bluffing on the part of the players, and the stakes were rather high. It was mostly played by the younger gentlemen, who could not do without their nerve-tonic in the evenings, in the monotony of camp life. The older men sat apart at tables, talking and drinking whisky-and-soda, and smoking their short pipes. Amongst them there was also a gentleman in civilian dress. The hospitality with which he was treated showed that he was not one of the officers of the regiment, but their guest. The sound of his name—he was addressed as Mr. Heideck—would have betrayed his German origin, even had his appearance not proclaimed it. He was of but medium height, but athletic in build. His erect, soldiery bearing and the elasticity of his movements plainly betokened his excellent health and considerable bodily strength. A foreigner can hardly present better credentials to an Englishman than these qualities. Perhaps, more than anything else, it was his distinguished appearance, in conjunction with his amiable and thoroughly gentlemanly bearing, that had so quickly opened the usually very exclusive officers’ circle to the young German, with his clever, energetic features, and his honest blue eyes.
Judged by his profession he did not, perhaps, belong to their society, according to the ideas of some of these gentlemen. It was known that he was travelling for a large commercial house in Hamburg. His uncle, the head of the house, imported indigo. And since the Maharajah of Chanidigot was the owner of very extensive indigo fields, young Heideck had been detained here a whole fortnight by commercial negotiations with the prince. He had succeeded, during this time, in gaining the lively sympathies of all, but particularly of the older British officers. In Indian garrisons every European is welcome. Heideck was also invited to those social functions at which the ladies of the regiment were present.
He had always refused an invitation to cards with polite firmness, and to-day also he was at most an uninterested and unconcerned spectator.
Presently the door of the tent opened and a tall, but extremely slim officer joined the circle of his comrades, jingling his spurs with a self-conscious, almost haughty attitude. He was in undress uniform and talked to one of the gentlemen, who addressed him as Captain Irwin, about just returning from a fatiguing ride for the inspection of an outpost. He demanded from one of the orderlies in attendance a refreshing drink, the favourite whisky-and-soda, then he drew close to the gaming-table.
“Room for a little one?” he asked. And place was readily made for him.
For a little while the game of poker went on in the same quiet way as before. But suddenly something extraordinary must have happened. All the gentlemen, except Captain Irwin and one of the players, laid down their cards, and the unpleasantly penetrating voice of Captain Irwin was heard.