"Nay, 'tis the fact," Elliot laughed. "But 'twas a stroke of luck for me that the Russians should have taken it for a feat of valour. The Marshal gave me a most handsome mention in despatches and that, reaching my irate father's ears, pacified him for my having run half-round Europe when I was supposed to be gone only for a sojourn in Vienna."
"How liked you the Russians?"
"As soldiers and boon companions they left nothing to be desired; yet if I were ordered to Petersburg as Ambassador I confess that I'd set out with considerable misgivings. I recall, even now, a passage from a letter Sir James Harris wrote me during his Embassy; he said: 'The monarch is an arrant woman—a vain, spoilt woman—with more masculine than manly virtues, and more female vices than weaknesses. The men in high life, monkeys grafted on bears, and those in lower, bears not inoculated. Religion, virtue and morality nowhere to be found; honour cannot be expressed in this language'."
They had reached the gate of the British Legation, and as Elliot brought his mount to a halt he added: "But soon now, you will be able to form your own judgment of Semiramis and her people. When you reach Stockholm I suggest that you should endeavour to cultivate the acquaintance of the Russian Ambassador there, Count Andrew Razumofsky. 'Twill give you a foretaste of their style and character."
Roger smiled. "I've already had that in certain dealings with Count Vorontzoff, their Ambassador in London."
"Even so, 'twould repay you to become persona gratawith Razumofsky, if you can. That will not be easy. Like most of Catherine's representatives he is as proud as a peacock, and considers no one less than a prince fitted to consort with him on equal terms. Yet he is high in the Empress's confidence, and if you can flatter him into giving you the entreeto his circle, 'tis just possible that he might speak before you as a Frenchman with a freedom he would never use in the presence of English ears."
"I will bear your advice in mind, Sir," Roger promised. Then he thanked the British Minister for all his help and kindness, and rode off through the gathering dusk back to the city.
He was, however, to see Hugh Elliot once more before leaving Copenhagen. Having found a four-masted barque that was sailing from the Oster Port for Stockholm on the afternoon tide of Saturday, the 12th of May, he gave a farewell breakfast that morning at a French restaurant he had discovered in the Reverentz Gaarten on Kongens Nytorv. The place was run by a Parisian named Mareschal, and he provided a most excellent meal at which Elliot, la Houze, Count Reventlow, and several other gentlemen who had entertained Roger during the past week, met to wish him a good journey.
At two o'clock in the afternoon Monsieur le Chevalier de Breuc went on board carrying a heavy cargo of good French Claret and a letter in his pocket from Monsieur le Baron la Houze to Monsieur le Marquis de Pons, the French Minister in Stockholm; and he did not feel that his fortnight in Copenhagen had been by any means wasted. The weather was moderately good and three mornings later the barque carried him through the lovely waterways that grace the entrance to the beautiful Swedish capital.
On going ashore he had his baggage carried to the Vasa inn; and after taking his midday meal there, sent a note to Monsieur de Pons asking when it would be convenient to present a letter from Monsieur la Houze. He then went out for a walk round the town.
When he got back he found to his surprise and pleasure that the French Ambassador had already sent a reply, which ran:
The annual entertainment which I give to celebrate the ascension of our gracious sovereigns to the throne should have been held on Thursday the tenth last; but has been postponed until to-night in the hope that HM. King Gustavus will have returned to his capital and be able to honour us with his presence.
I pray you therefore, my dear fellow-countryman, to dispense with formality, and give me the pleasure of welcoming you to Sweden this evening.
I have the honour, etc., etc.
Enclosed was a large crested card showing the entertainment to be a Bal Masque, for which guests were bidden to assemble at eight o'clock. So Roger promptly made arrangements at the inn for a coach to take him to the French Embassy, and hurried out again to get himself a domino.
In Stockholm, as in Copenhagen, he found that the shopkeepers as well as the upper classes all spoke either French or German, and at a big mercer's in Paul's Gatan he secured a pale blue domino and mask. Back at the inn he had a barber dress his hair in the prevailing French fashion; with side curls, toupee and turned up behind, and, for such an occasion, heavily powdered. The domino, like the loose, light costume of a pierrot, entirely concealed his long scarlet coat, gold-laced waistcoat and frilled shirt, but his quizzing-glass hung outside it on a black moire ribbon. To complete his toilette he scented himself and put a beauty patch on the lower part of his left cheek. Then, at a little after seven-thirty, he went down to the waiting coach.
He had already ascertained that the French Embassy was a country mansion situated a little way outside the city on one of the many promontories that fringed the fiord, so he was not surprised when ms coach left the cobbled ways and entered a belt of sweet-scented pine woods. About half-a-mile further on it turned a sharp corner, then suddenly swerved to one side of the track.
Recovering his balance Roger saw at once the reason for his coachman's sudden swerve. Just ahead of them was another coach, a huge gilded vehicle with six horses, postillions and outriders; one of its wheels had come off and it was lying at an angle half in and half out of the ditch. Beside it, among the richly-liveried servants, stood a big broad-shouldered man and a girl with flowers and feathers in her high-dressed hair. Both of them were masked and wearing dominoes.
Roger at once called on his own coachman to halt and got out. In spite of the presence of the girl the owner of the broken-down vehicle was cursing his servants in French with language which would have made a fishwife blush. As Roger came up the angry man hit his coachman with his clenched fist and sent the poor wretch sprawling into the ditch.
After a loud cough to draw his attention, Roger said: "I see, Sir, that you are the victim of an unfortunate accident, and from your domino it appears that you were on your way to the French Embassy. Pray allow me to offer you and your lady seats in my coach."
With a visible effort to swallow his rage, the man replied: "I thank you, Sir. We are mightily obliged."
Turning to the girl Roger made her a gallant leg, and said: "Your servant, Mademoiselle. Permit me to introduce myself. . . ."
But with a quick gesture of her fan she stopped him and laughed behind her mask. "Nay, Monsieur. I beg you to do no such thing. 'Tis quite romantic to be rescued from our predicament by a strange cavalier; and the whole object of our dominoes is to preserve the secret of our identity until midnight. Let us all retain our incognito until then."
"Willingly, Mademoiselle," smiled Roger, and he bowed his new acquaintances into his coach; then, getting in himself, swiftly took more careful stock of them.
The man was not particularly tall but immensely broad across the shoulders. His forehead was low and sloping, his hair, under the powder, black; as were also his eyes. Below the mask his lips showed full and red, and his heavy chin was thrust forward aggressively. The girl was a little above medium height, and her hair was only lightly powdered, as it was so fair as to be almost silver. Her eyes, which held a merry sparkle, were green; and although the domino concealed the details of her figure, Roger judged her to be slim. He naturally assumed them to be Swedes, and having remarked that he had arrived in Stockholm only that morning, began to praise the beauty of their capital.