The Red Symbol - free ebook by John Ironside

JOHN IRONSIDE

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CHAPTER I

“ H ello! Yes—I’m Maurice Wynn. Who are you?” “Harding. I’ve been ringing you up at intervals for hours. Carson’s ill, and you’re to relieve him. Come round for instructions to-night. Lord Southbourne will give them you himself. Eh? Yes, Whitehall Gardens. Ten-thirty, then. Right you are.” I replaced the receiver, and started hustling into my dress clothes, thinking rapidly the while. For the first time in the course of ten years’ experience as a special correspondent, I was dismayed at the pros

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CHAPTER II

D inner was served by the time I reached the Cecil, and, as I entered the salon, and made my way towards the table where our seats were, I saw that my fears were realized. Anne was angry, and would not lightly forgive me for what she evidently considered an all but unpardonable breach of good manners. I know Mary had arranged that Anne and I should sit together, but now the chair reserved for me was on Mary’s left. Her husband sat at her right, and next him was Anne, deep in conversation with he

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CHAPTER III

I n the vestibule I hung around waiting till Anne and Mrs. Dennis Sutherland should reappear from the cloak-room. It was close on the time when I was due at Whitehall Gardens, but I must have a parting word with Anne, even at the risk of being late for the appointment with my chief. Jim and Mary passed through, and paused to say good night. “It’s all right, Maurice?” Mary whispered. “And you’re coming to us to-morrow, anyhow?” “Yes; to say good-bye, if I have to start on Monday.” “Just about tim

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CHAPTER IV

“ T his was found in Carson’s pocket?” I asked, steadying my voice with an effort. He nodded. I affected to examine the portrait closely, to gain a moment’s time. Should I tell him, right now, that I knew the original; tell him also of my strange visitant? No; I decided to keep silence, at least until after I had seen Anne, and cross-examined the old Russian again. “Have you any clue to her identity?” I said, as I rose and replaced the blood-stained card on his desk. “No. I’ve no doubt the Russi

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CHAPTER V

W hen I regained the bridge I crossed to the further parapet and looked down at the river. I could see nothing of the boat; doubtless it had passed out of sight behind a string of barges that lay in the tideway. As I watched, the moon was veiled again by the clouds that rolled up from the west, heralding a second storm; and in another minute or so a fresh deluge had commenced. But I scarcely heeded it. I leaned against the parapet staring at the dark, mysterious river and the lights that fringed

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CHAPTER VI

“ I ’m speaking from Charing Cross station; can you hear me?” the voice continued. “I’ve had a letter from my father; he’s ill, and I must go to him at once. I’m starting now, nine o’clock.” I glanced at the clock, which showed a quarter to nine. “I’ll be with you in five minutes—darling!” I responded, throwing in the last word with immense audacity. “ Au revoir ; I’ve got to hustle!” I put up the receiver and dashed back into my bedroom, where my cold bath, fortunately, stood ready. Within five

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CHAPTER VII

I bent over the corpse and touched the forehead tentatively with my finger-tips. It was stone cold. The man must have been dead many hours. “Come on; we must send for the police; pull yourself together, man!” I said to Jenkins, who seemed half-paralyzed with fear and horror. We squeezed back through the small opening, and I gently closed the door, and gripping Jenkins by the arm, marched him down the stairs to my rooms. He was trembling like a leaf, and scarcely able to stand alone. “We’ve never

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CHAPTER VIII

I t was rather late that evening when I returned to the Cayleys; for I had to go to the office, and write my report of the murder. It would be a scoop for the “Courier;” for, though the other papers might get hold of the bare facts, the details of the thrilling story I constructed were naturally exclusive. I made it pretty lurid, and put in all I had told Freeman, and that I intended to repeat at the inquest. The news editor was exultant. He regarded a Sunday murder as nothing short of a godsend

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CHAPTER IX

“ H anged, or condemned to penal servitude for life.” There fell a dead silence after Jim Cayley uttered those ominous words. He waited for me to speak, but for a minute or more I was dumb. He had voiced the fear that had been on me more or less vaguely ever since I broke open the door and saw Cassavetti’s corpse; and that had taken definite shape when I heard Freeman’s assertion concerning “a red-haired woman.” And yet my whole soul revolted from the horrible, the appalling suspicion. I kept as

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CHAPTER X

I stared at the man incredulously. “Herr Pendennis has departed, and the Fraulein has not been here at all!” I repeated. “You must be mistaken, man! The Fraulein was to arrive here on Monday, at about this time.” He protested that he had spoken the truth, and summoned the manager, who confirmed the information. Yes, Herr Pendennis had been unfortunately indisposed, but the sickness had not been so severe as to necessitate that the so charming and dutiful Fraulein should hasten to him. He had a t

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CHAPTER XI

I took a cab from the newspaper office to Von Eckhardt’s address,—a flat in the west end. I found him, as Medhurst had reported, considerably agitated. He is a good-hearted chap, and a brilliant writer, though he’s too apt to allow his feelings to carry him away; for he’s even more sentimental than the average German, and entirely lacking in the characteristic German phlegm. He is as vivacious and excitable as a Frenchman, and I fancy there’s a good big dash of French blood in his pedigree, thou

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CHAPTER XII

I found the usual polyglot crowd assembled at the Friedrichstrasse station, waiting to board the international express including a number of Russian officers, one of whom specially attracted my attention. He was a splendid looking young man, well over six feet in height, but so finely proportioned that one did not realize his great stature till one compared him with others—myself, for instance. I stand full six feet in my socks, but he towered above me. I encountered him first by cannoning right

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CHAPTER XIII

I woke with a splitting headache to find myself lying in a berth in a sleeping car; the same car in which I had been travelling when the accident—or outrage—occurred; for the windows were smashed and some of the woodwork splintered. I guessed that there were a good many of the injured on board, for above the rumble of the train, which was jogging along at a steady pace, I could hear the groans of the sufferers. I put my hand up to my head, and found it swathed in wet bandages, warm to the touch,

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CHAPTER XIV

A dusky flush rose to his face, and his blue eyes flashed ominously. I noticed that a little vein swelled and pulsed in his temple, close by the strip of flesh-colored plaster that covered the wound on his forehead. But, although he appeared almost equally angry and surprised, he held himself well in hand. “Truly you seem in possession of much information, Mr. Wynn,” he said slowly. “I must ask you to explain yourself. Do you know this lady?” “Yes.” “How do you know she is in danger?” “Chiefly f

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CHAPTER XV

W ith the handkerchief in my hand, I started running wildly after the fast disappearing droshky, only to fall plump into the arms of a surly gendarme, a Muscovite giant, who collared me with one hand, while he drew his revolver with the other, and brandished it as if he was minded to bash my face in with the butt end, a playful little habit much in vogue with the Russian police. “Let me go. I’m all right; I’m an American,” I cried indignantly. “I must follow that droshky!” It was out of sight by

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CHAPTER XVI

I paid my bill, strolled out, and in the doorway encountered a man I knew slightly—a young officer—with whom I paused to chat, thereby blocking the doorway temporarily, with the result that I found my friend the spy—as I was now convinced he was—at my elbow. My unexpected halt had pulled him up short. “Pardon!” I said with the utmost politeness, stepping aside, so he had to pass out, though I guessed he was angry enough at losing my conversation, for I was telling Lieutenant Mirakoff of my arres

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CHAPTER XVII

I nside were two officials busily engaged in a systematic search of my effects. Truly the secret police had lost no time! I had already decided on the attitude I must adopt. It was improbable that they would arrest me openly; that would have involved trouble with the Embassies, but they could, if they chose, conduct me to the frontier or give me twenty-four hours’ notice to quit Russia, as they had to Von Eckhardt, and that was the very last thing I desired just now. “Good evening, gentlemen,” I

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CHAPTER XVIII

I moved to the door and locked it noiselessly. I dared not open it to see if the servant had gone, for if he had not that would have roused his suspicions at once. The Duke had already crossed to the further side of the room, and I joined him there. He wasted no time in preliminaries. “Mishka has told me all,” he began, speaking in English, though still in the hoarse low growl appropriate to his assumed character. “And I have learned much since. There is to be a meeting to-night, and if things a

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CHAPTER XIX

A s the sounds of flight and pursuit receded, I crawled out of the ditch, and called softly to my companion, who answered me, from the other side of the road, with a groan and an oath. “I am hurt; it is my leg—my ankle; I cannot stand,” he said despairingly. As the lightning flared again, I saw his face for a moment, plastered with black mud, and furious with pain and chagrin. I groped my way across to him, hauled him out of the ditch, and felt his limbs to try to ascertain the extent of his inj

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CHAPTER XX

I t was a small, ruinous chapel, the windows of which had been roughly boarded up; and, so far as I could see by the dim light cast by two oil lanterns hung on the walls, all those assembled inside were men,—about fifty in number I guessed, for the place was by no means crowded. There was a clear space at the further end, round the raised piece where the altar had once stood, and where four men were seated on a bench of some sort. I could not distinguish their faces, for they all wore their hats

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CHAPTER XXI

T hey were a craven crew,—bold enough when arrayed in their numbers against two men and one helpless girl, but terror-stricken at these fresh tidings. That was my opinion of them at the time, but perhaps it was unjust. Every man who attended that meeting had done so at the deliberate risk of his life and liberty. Most of them had undoubtedly tramped the whole way to the rendezvous, through the storm and swelter of the summer night, and they were fatigued and unstrung. Also, the Russian—and espec

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CHAPTER XXII

“ T here was a woman,” I confessed. “And that’s how I came to be chipped about. They were going to murder her.” “To murder her!” he exclaimed. “Why, she’s one of them; the cleverest and most dangerous of the lot! Said to be a wonderfully pretty girl, too. Did you see her?” “Only for a moment; there wasn’t much light. From what I could make out they accused her of treachery, and led her in; she stood with her back against the wall,—she looked quite a girl, with reddish hair. Then the row began. T

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CHAPTER XXIII

T he next I knew I was in bed, in a cool, darkened room, with a man seated in an easy-chair near at hand, smoking a cigarette, and reading what looked remarkably like an English newspaper. I lay and looked at him lazily, for a few minutes. I hadn’t the least idea as to where I was, or how I came there; I didn’t feel any curiosity on the point. The blissful consciousness of cleanliness and comfort was quite sufficient for me at present. My broken arm had been set and put in rude splints while I w

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CHAPTER XXIV

W e started for England the next night, second class, and travelled right through, as I stood the journey better than any of us expected. After we crossed the frontier, I doubt if any of our fellow travellers, or any one else, for the matter of that, had the least suspicion that I was a prisoner being taken back to stand my trial on the gravest of all charges, and not merely an invalid, assiduously tended by my two companions. I didn’t even realize the fact myself at the time,—or at least I only

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CHAPTER XXV

“ Y ou! What had you to do with it?” I ejaculated. “Well, Freeman was hunting on a cold scent; yearning to arrest some one, as they always do in a murder case. He’d thought of you, of course. Considering that you were on the spot at the time, I wonder he didn’t arrest you right off; but he had formed his own theory, as detectives always do, and in nine cases out of ten they’re utterly wrong!” “Do you know what the theory was?” I asked. “Yes. He believed that the murder was committed by a woman;

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CHAPTER XXVI

I did take Lord Southbourne’s advice, partly; for in giving Sir George Lucas a minute account of my movements on the night of the murder, I did not prevaricate, but I made two reservations, neither of which, so far as I could see, affected my own case in the least. I made no mention of the conversation I had with the old Russian in my own flat; or of the incident of the boat. If I kept silence on those two points, I argued to myself, it was improbable that Anne’s name would be dragged into the m

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CHAPTER XXVII

T he threat was sufficient and Jim capitulated. “Though you are a quixotic fool, Maurice, and no mistake,” he asserted vehemently. “Tell me something I don’t know,” I suggested. “Something pleasant, for a change. How’s Mary?” “Not at all well; that’s why we went down to Cornwall last week; we’ve taken a cottage there for the summer. The town is frightfully stuffy, and the poor little woman is quite done up. She’s been worrying about Anne, too, as I said; and now she’ll be worrying about you! She

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CHAPTER XXVIII

“ I t’s terrible, Maurice! If only I could have a line, even a wire, from her, or her father, just to say she was alive, I wouldn’t mind so much.” “She may have written and the letter got lost in transit,” I suggested. “Then why didn’t she write again, or wire?” persisted Mary. “And there are her clothes; why, she hadn’t even a second gown with her. I believe she’s dead, Maurice; I do indeed!” She began to cry softly, poor, dear little woman, and I did not know what to say to comfort her. I dare

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CHAPTER XXIX

“ Y es, I’ve met him once, under very strange circumstances,” I answered. “I’d like to tell them to you; but not now. I don’t want my cousin to know anything about it,” I added hastily, for I heard Mary’s voice speaking to the maid, and knew she would be out in another minute. “May I come and see you, Mr. Treherne? I’ve a very special reason for asking.” He must have thought me a polite lunatic, but he said courteously: “I shall be delighted to see you at the vicarage, Mr. Wynn, and to hear any

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CHAPTER XXX

H e sat so long silent after that outburst that I feared he might not be willing to tell me any more of what I was painfully eager to hear. “Did she—the Countess Anna—die here, sir?” I asked at last. He roused himself with a start. “I beg your pardon; I had almost forgotten you were there,” he said apologetically. “Die here? No; better, far better for her if she had! Still, she was not happy here. The old people did not like her; did not try to like her; though I don’t know how they could have h

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CHAPTER XXXI

“ Y ou must have found Cornish history very fascinating, Maurice,” Mary declared at breakfast-time next morning. “Jim says it was nearly twelve when you got back. You bad boy to keep such late hours, after you’ve been so ill, too!” “I’m all right again now,” I protested. “And the vicar certainly is a very interesting companion.” There were a couple of letters, one from the Courier office, and another from Harding, Lord Southbourne’s private secretary, and both important in their way. Harding wro

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CHAPTER XXXII

T wo days later I saw Lord Southbourne, and resigned my position as a member of his staff. I felt myself mean in one way, when I thought of how he had backed me right through that murder business,—and before it, when he set Freeman on my track. He showed neither surprise nor annoyance; in fact he seemed, if anything, more nonchalant than usual. “Well, of course you know your own affairs best. I haven’t any use for men who cultivate interests outside their work; and you’ve done the straight thing

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CHAPTER XXXIII

E ven before we left Riga,—where we were delayed for a couple of days getting our goods through the Customs and on to the train,—I realized somewhat at least of the meaning of Mishka’s enigmatic utterance. Not that we experienced any adventures. I suppose I played my part all right as the American mechanic whose one idea was safeguarding the machinery he was in charge of. Anyhow we got through the necessary interviews with truculent officials without much difficulty. Most of them were unable to

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CHAPTER XXXIV

W e halted for the night at a small town, with some five or six thousand inhabitants as I judged, of whom three-fourths appeared to be Jews. Compared with the villages we had passed, the place was a flourishing one; and seemed quiet enough, though here again, as at Wilna and Riga, there was something ominous in the air. Nearly all the business was in the hands of the Jews; and their shops and houses, poor enough, according to civilized notions, were far and away more prosperous looking than thos

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CHAPTER XXXV

“ I t is less safe than the streets of London, perhaps,” I said quietly, in Russian. “But what of that? And how long is it since you left there, my friend?” He peered at me suspiciously, and spread his free hand with the quaint, graceful gesture he had used before. I’d have known the man anywhere by that alone; though in some ways he looked different now, less frail and emaciated than he had been, with a wiry vigor about him that made him seem younger than I had thought him. “The excellency mist

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CHAPTER XXXVI

“ W ill you never learn wisdom?” demanded Mishka, when, after a few minutes, he returned. “Why could you not rest here in safety?” “Because I wanted to walk some of my stiffness off,” I replied coolly. “I had quite a good time, and met an old acquaintance.” “Who gave you much interesting news?” he asked, with a sardonic inflection of his deep voice that made me guess Yossof had told him what passed at our interview. “Why, no; I can’t say that he did that,” I confessed. Already I realized that I

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CHAPTER XXXVII

T he castle stood within a great quadrangle, which we entered through a massive stone gateway guarded by two sentries. Two more were stationed at the top of a steep and wide marble stairway that led up to the entrance hall, and the whole place seemed swarming with soldiers, and servants in handsome liveries. A couple of grooms came to hold our horses, and a third took possession of my valise, containing chiefly a dress suit and some shirts. My other belongings were coming on in the wagon. Mishka

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CHAPTER XXXVIII

T hat hand at bridge lasted till long past midnight, and I only got away at last on the plea that I was dead tired after my two days’ ride. “Tired or not, you play a good hand, mon ami !” Grodwitz declared. We had been partners, and had won all before us. “They shall have their revenge in good time,” I said, stifling a yawn. “ Bonsoir, messieurs .” I sent Nicolai to bed, and wrapping myself in a dressing gown which I found laid out for me, sat down in a deep divan chair to await the Duke, and fe

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CHAPTER XXXIX

A t dinner I heard that the Grand Duke was indisposed, and was dining alone, instead, as usual, with the Count Stravensky, Commandant of the Castle—by courtesy the chief member of his suite, but in reality his custodian—and two or three other officers of high birth, who, with their wives, formed as it were, the inner circle of this small Court in the wilderness. There were a good many ladies in residence,—the great castle was like a world in little,—but I scarcely saw any of them, as I preferred

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CHAPTER XL

W e rode on, avoiding the village, which remained dark and silent; the sleeping peasants had either not heard or not heeded the sound and shock of the explosion. When we regained the road on the further side, two mounted men awaited us, who, after exchanging a few low-spoken words with the Pavloffs, fell in behind us; and later another, and yet another, joined us in the same way. It must have been about one in the morning when we reached the village half-way between Zizcsky and Zostrov, where Mi

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CHAPTER XLI

“ I knew thou wouldst come,” she said in French, as he caught those outstretched hands in his. She looked pale and worn, as was natural,—but lovelier than ever, as she stood, a shadowy figure in her dark gown against the gloom behind her, for there was no light within the synagogue. The lurid glare from without shed an unearthly radiance on her white face and shining hair. “I am not alone,” he said. “Maurice Wynn is with me; and the good Mishka and his father.” She glanced at me doubtfully, and

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CHAPTER XLII

O ur own horses were already at the appointed place, together with Pavloff and the Duke’s little band of “recruits;” sturdy young moujiks these, as I saw now by the gray light of dawn, cleaner and more intelligent-looking than most of their class. They were freshly horsed, for they had taken advantage of the confusion in the town to “commandeer” re-mounts,—as they say in South Africa. There were horses for Anne, and her cousin, too. Pavloff, like his son, was a man who forgot nothing. Anne had a

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CHAPTER XLIII

A t last there was a movement within. Halting footsteps approached the gates, and a man’s voice, hoarse and weak, demanded: “Who is there?” “It is Yossof,” Anne exclaimed. “How comes he here alone? Where is my mother, Yossof?” I started as I heard that. Her mother was alive, then, though Anne had said she could not remember her, and Treherne had told me she died soon after her arrest, more than twenty years back. “She is within and safe; Natalya is with her,” came Yossof’s quavering voice, as he

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CHAPTER XLIV

I nto my dreams came voices that I knew, speaking in French, in low tones which yet reached my ears distinctly. “I think we should tell him; it is not right, or just, to keep him in ignorance.” “No,—no,—we must not tell him; we must not!” Anne said softly, but vehemently. “We shall need him so sorely,—there are so very few whom we can really trust. Besides, why should we tell him? It would break his heart! For remember, we do not know.” They were not dream voices, but real ones, and as I found t

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CHAPTER XLV

A few hours later we were on the road once more,—Anne and Natalya in a travelling carriage, the rest of us mounted. The old servant was sobbing hysterically as she followed her mistress down the steps, but Anne’s white face was tearless, though she turned it for a moment with a yearning farewell glance towards the fresh-made mound in the courtyard, the grave where we had laid the corpse of her mother, in the coffin which Mishka and some of the men had made during the day. That hurried funeral wa

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CHAPTER XLVI

T he whole thing happened far more quickly than it can be told. I dragged Anne back from the window, slammed the shutters to,—for one of the Cossacks’ favorite tricks was to fire at any one seen at a window in the course of a street row,—and, curtly bidding Anne stay where she was for the moment, rushed downstairs and out into the street, revolver in hand. Mishka and half a dozen of our men were before me; there were very few of us in the house just now; most of the others were with Loris and Va

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CHAPTER XLVII

I t was the flat of the sabre that had got me on the forehead, otherwise there’d have been an end of me at once. I was not unconscious for very long, for when I sat up, wiped the blood out of my eyes, and stared about me, sick and dazed, unable for the moment to recollect what had happened, I could still hear a tumult raging in the distance. The street itself was quiet; the soldiers, the mob were gone; all the houses were shut and silent, though scared faces were peeping from some of the upper w

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CHAPTER XLVIII

I ’ve heard it said that sick or wounded people always die if they have no wish to live, but that’s not true. I wanted to die as badly as any one ever did, but yet I lived. I suppose I must have a lot of recuperative energy; anyhow, next time I woke up I felt pretty much as usual, except for the dull throb of the wound across my forehead, which some one had scientifically strapped up. My physical pain counted as nothing compared with the agony of shame and grief I suffered in my soul, as, bit by

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CHAPTER XLIX

H ow far we rode I can’t say; but it was still dark when we halted at a small isolated farmhouse, where Mishka roused the farmer, who came out grumbling at being disturbed before daybreak. After a muttered colloquy, he led us in and called his wife to prepare tea and food for us, while he took charge of the horses. “You must eat and sleep,” Mishka announced in his gruff way. “You ought to be still in the hospital; but we are fools, in these days, every one of us! Ho—little father—shake down some

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CHAPTER L

I started up at that. “Fraulein Pendennis!” I gasped. “You know her?” “I should do so, after nursing her through such an illness,—and so short a time since!” “But,—when did you nurse her,—where?” “Why, here; not in this room, but in the hotel. It is three—no, nearer four months since; she also was taken ill on her way from Russia. There is a strange coincidence! But hers was a much more severe illness. We did not think she could possibly recover; and for weeks we feared for her brain. She had su

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CHAPTER LI

“ I t’s incredible!” I exclaimed. “Well, it’s true, anyhow!” Jim asserted. “And I don’t see myself where the incredibility comes in.” “You say that Mr. Pendennis wrote from Berlin not a week after I left England, and that he and Anne— Anne —are at this moment staying with you in Chelsea? When I’ve been constantly with her,—saw her murdered in the streets of Warsaw!” “That must have been the other woman,—the woman of the portrait, whoever she may be. No one seems to know, not even Pendennis. We’v

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CHAPTER LII

“ S he must have been one of the Vassilitzis, and therefore Anne’s near kinswoman,” Pendennis said slowly. “You say she was often spoken of as Anna Petrovna? That explains nothing, for Petrovna is of course a very common family name in Russia. ‘The daughter of Peter’ it really means, and it is often used as a familiar form of address, just as in Scotland a married woman is often spoken of by her friends by her maiden name. My wife was called Anna Petrovna. But you say this unhappy woman’s name w

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THE ILLUSTRIOUS PRINCE

34 Beacon Street, Boston Author of “The Kingdom of Earth,” “The Distributors,” etc. Illustrated. Cloth, $1.50 Has the merit of engaging the reader’s attention at once and holding it to the end.— New York Sun . It is exciting, is plausibly and cleverly written, and is not devoid of a love motive.— Chicago Examiner . It can be heartily recommended to those who enjoy a novel with a good plot, entertaining characters, and one which is carefully written.— Chicago Tribune . One of the most fascinating

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PASSERS-BY

34 Beacon Street, Boston By the Author of “Aunt Jane of Kentucky” Illustrated by G. Patrick Nelson and Beulah Strong 12mo. Cloth. $1.50 The book is an inspiration.— Boston Globe. Without qualification one of the worthiest publications of the year.— Pittsburg Post. Aunt Jane has become a real personage in American literature.— Hartford Courant. A philosophy sweet and wholesome flows from the lips of “Aunt Jane.”— Chicago Evening Post. The sweetness and sincerity of Aunt Jane’s recollections have

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THE LAND OF LONG AGO

To a greater degree than her previous work it touches the heart by its wholesome, quaint human appeal.— Boston Transcript. The stories are prose idyls; the illuminations of a lovely spirit shine upon them, and their literary quality is as rare as beautiful.— Baltimore Sun. Margaret E. Sangster says: “It is not often that an author competes with herself, but Eliza Calvert Hall has done so successfully, for her second volume centred about Aunt Jane is more fascinating than her first.” 34 Beacon St

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AN AMERICAN BABY ABROAD

Minor changes have been made to correct typesetters’ errors; otherwise, every effort has been made to remain true to the author’s words and intent....

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