The Most Interesting Stories of All Nations

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Her colleagues, the Knights of Industry, acted on a carefully
devised and rigidly followed plan. They were far from putting
their uncanny skill in motion every Wednesday. So long as they had
no big game in sight, the game remained clean and honest. In this
way the band might lose two or three thousand rubles, but such a
loss had no great importance, and was soon made up when some fat
"pigeon" appeared.

It sometimes happened that this wily scheme of honest play went on
for five or six weeks in succession, so that the small fry, winning
the band's money, remained entirely convinced that it was playing
in an honorable and respectable private house, and very naturally
spread abroad the fame of it throughout the whole city. But when
the fat pigeon at last appeared, the band put forth all its forces,
all the wiles of the black art, and in a few hours made up for the
generous losses of a month of honorable and irreproachable play on
the green cloth.

Midnight was approaching.

The baroness's rooms were brilliantly lit up, but, thanks to the
thick curtains which covered the windows, the lights could not be
seen from the street, though several carriages were drawn up along
the sidewalk.

Opening into the elegant drawing-room was a not less elegant card
room, appreciatively nicknamed the Inferno by the band. In it
stood a large table with a green cloth, on which lay a heap of bank
notes and two little piles of gold, before which sat Sergei
Antonovitch Kovroff, presiding over the bank with the composure of
a true gentleman.

What Homeric, Jovine calm rested on every feature of his face!
What charming, fearless self-assurance, what noble self-confidence
in his smile, in his glance! What grace, what distinction in his
pose, and especially in the hand which dealt the cards! Sergei
Kovroff's hands were decidedly worthy of attention. They were
almost always clad in new gloves, which he only took off on special
occasions, at dinner, or when he had some writing to do, or when he
sat down to a game of cards. As a result, his hands were almost
feminine in their delicacy, the sensibility of the finger tips had
reached an extraordinary degree of development, equal to that of
one born blind. And those fingers were skillful, adroit, alert,
their every movement carried out with that smooth, indefinable
grace which is almost always possessed by the really high-class
card sharper. His fingers were adorned with numerous rings, in
which sparkled diamonds and other precious stones. And it was not
for nothing that Sergei Kovroff took pride in them! This glitter
of diamonds, scattering rainbow rays, dazzled the eyes of his
fellow players. When Sergei Kovroff sat down to preside over the
bank, the sparkling of the diamonds admirably masked those motions
of his fingers which needed to be masked; they almost insensibly
drew away the eyes of the players from his fingers, and this was
most of all what Sergei Kovroff desired.

Round the table about thirty guests were gathered. Some of them
sat, but most of them played standing, with anxious faces,
feverishly sparkling eyes, and breathing heavily and unevenly.
Some were pale, some flushed, and all watched with passionate
eagerness the fall of the cards. There were also some who had
perfect command of themselves, distinguished by extraordinary
coolness, and jesting lightly whether they lost or won. But such
happily constituted natures are always a minority when high play is
going on.

Silence reigned in the Inferno. There was almost no conversation;
only once in a while was heard a remark, in a whisper or an
undertone, addressed by a player to his neighbor; the only sound
was that short, dry rustle of the cards and the crackling of new
bank notes, or the tinkle of gold coins making their way round the
table from the bank to the players, and from the players back to
the bank.

The two Princes Shadursky, father and son, both lost heavily. They
sat opposite Sergei Kovroff, and between them sat Baroness von
Doring, who played in alliance with them. The clever Natasha egged
them on, kindling their excitement with all the skill and
calculation possible to one whose blood was as cold as the blood of
a fish, and both the Shadurskys had lost their heads, no longer
knowing how much they were losing.

XIII

AN EXPLANATION

Count Kallash and his sister had just breakfasted when the count's
French footman entered the study.

"Madame la baronne von Doring!" he announced obsequiously.

Brother and sister exchanged a rapid glance.

"Now is our opportunity to make sure," said Kallash, with a smile.

"If it is she, I shall recognize her by her voice," whispered
Princess Anna. "Shall I remain here or go?"

"Remain in the meantime; it will be a curious experience. Faites
entrer!" he added to the footman.

A moment later light, rapid footsteps were heard in the entrance
hall, and the rustling of a silk skirt.

"How do you do, count! I have come to see you for a moment. I
came in all haste, on purpose. I have come IN PERSON, you must be
duly appreciative! Vladislav is too busy, and the matter is an
important one. I wanted to see you at the earliest opportunity.
Well, we may all congratulate ourselves. Fate and fortune are
decidedly on our side!" said the baroness, speaking rapidly, as she
entered the count's study.

"What has happened? What is the news?" asked the count, going
forward to meet her.

"We have learned that the Shadurskys have just received a large sum
of money; they have sold an estate, and the purchaser has paid them
in cash. Our opportunity has come. Heaven forbid that we should
lose it! We must devise a plan to make the most of it."

The baroness suddenly stopped short in the middle of the sentence,
and became greatly confused, noticing that there was a third person
present.

"Forgive me! I did not give you warning," said the count,
shrugging his shoulders and smiling; "permit me! PRINCESS ANNA
CHECHEVINSKI!" he continued with emphasis, indicating his poor,
decrepit sister. "Of course you would not have recognized her,
baroness."

"But I recognized Natasha immediately," said the old woman quietly,
her eyes still fixed on Natasha's face.

The baroness suddenly turned as white as a sheet, and with
trembling hands caught the back of a heavy armchair.

Kallash with extreme politeness assisted her to a seat.

"You didn't expect to meet me, Natasha?" said the old woman gently
and almost caressingly, approaching her.

"I do not know you. Who are you?" the baroness managed to whisper,
by a supreme effort.

"No wonder; I am so changed," replied Princess Anna. "But YOU are
just the same. There is hardly any change at all."

Natasha began to recover her composure.

"I don't understand you," she said coldly, contracting her brows.

"But I understand YOU perfectly."

"Allow me, princess," Kallash interrupted her, "permit me to have
an explanation with the baroness; she and I know each other well.
And if you will pardon me, I shall ask you in the meantime to
withdraw."

And he courteously conducted his sister to the massive oak doors,
which closed solidly after her.

"What does this mean?" said the baroness, rising angrily, her gray
eyes flashing at the count from under her broad brows.

"A coincidence," answered Kallash, shrugging his shoulders with an
ironical smile.

"How a coincidence? Speak clearly!"

"The former mistress has recognized her former maid--that is all."

"How does this woman come to be here? Who is she?"

"I have told you already; Princess Anna Chechevinski. And as to
how she came here, that was also a coincidence, and a strange one."

"Impossible!" exclaimed the baroness.

"Why impossible? They say the dead sometimes return from the tomb,
and the princess is still alive. And why should the matter not
have happened thus, for instance? Princess Anna Chechevinski's
maid Natasha took advantage of the confidence and illness of the
elder princess to steal from her strong box, with the aid of her
sweetheart, Kasimir Bodlevski, money and securities--mark this,
baroness--securities in the name of Princess Anna. And might it
not happen that this same lithographer Bodlevski should get false
passports at the Cave, for himself and his sweetheart, and flee
with her across the frontier, and might not this same maid, twenty
years later, return to Russia under the name of Baroness von
Doring? You must admit that there is nothing fantastic in all
this! What is the use of concealing? You see I know everything!"

"And what follows from all this?" replied the baroness with a
forced smile of contempt.

"Much MAY follow from it," significantly but quietly replied
Kallash. "But at present the only important matter is, that I know
all. I repeat it--ALL."

"Where are your facts?" asked the baroness.

"Facts? Hm!" laughed Kallash. "If facts are needed, they will be
forthcoming. Believe me, dear baroness, that if I had not legally
sufficient facts in my hands, I would not have spoken to you of
this."

Kallash lied, but lied with the most complete appearance of
probability.

The baroness again grew confused and turned white.

"Where are your facts? Put them in my hands!" she said at last,
after a prolonged silence.

"Oh, this is too much! Get hold of them yourself!" the count
replied, with the same smile. "The facts are generally set forth
to the prisoner by the court; but it is enough for you in the
meantime to know that the facts exist, and that they are in my
possession. Believe, if you wish. If you do not wish, do not
believe. I will neither persuade you nor dissuade you."

"And this means that I am in your power?" she said slowly, raising
her piercing glance to his face.

"Yes; it means that you are in my power," quietly and confidently
answered Count Kallash.

"But you forget that you and I are in the same boat."

"You mean that I am a sharper, like you and Bodlevski? Well, you
are right. We are all berries of the same bunch--except HER" (and
he indicated the folding doors). "She, thanks to many things, has
tasted misery, but she is honest. But we are all rascals, and I
first of all. You are perfectly right in that. If you wish to get
me in your power--try to find some facts against me. Then we shall
be quits!"

"And what is it you wish?"

"It is too late for justice, at least so far as she is concerned,"
replied the count, with a touch of sadness; "but it is not too late
for a measure of reparation. But we can discuss that later," he
went on more lightly, as if throwing aside the heavy impression
produced by the thought of Princess Anna's misery. "And now, dear
baroness, let us return to business, the business of Prince
Shadursky! I will think the matter over, and see whether anything
suggests itself."

He courteously conducted the baroness to the carriage, and they
parted, to all appearance, friends. But there were dangerous
elements for both in that seeming friendship.

XIV

GOLD MINING

A wonderful scheme was hatched in Count Kallash's fertile brain.
Inspired by the thought of Prince Shadursky's newly replenished
millions, he devised a plan for the gang which promised brilliant
results, and only needed the aid of a discreet and skillful
confederate. And what confederate could be more trustworthy than
Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff? So the two friends were presently to
be found in secret consultation in the count's handsome study, with
a bottle of good Rhine wine before them, fine cigars between their
lips, and the memory of a well-served breakfast lingering
pleasantly in their minds. They were talking about the new
resources of the Shadurskys.

"To take their money at cards--what a wretched business--and so
infernally commonplace," said Count Kallash. "To tell you the
truth, I have for a long time been sick of cards! And, besides,
time is money! Why should we waste several weeks, or even months,
over something that could be done in a few days?"

Kovroff agreed completely, but at the same time put the question,
if not cards, what plan was available?

"That is it exactly!" cried Kallash, warming up. "I have thought
it all over. The problem is this: we must think up something that
would surprise Satan himself, something that would make all Hades
smile and blow us hot kisses. But what of Hades?--that's all
nonsense. We must do something that will make the whole Golden
Band throw up their caps. That is what we have to do!"

"Quite a problem," lazily answered Kovroff, chewing the end of his
cigar. "But you are asking too much."

"But that is not all," the count interrupted him; "listen! This is
what my problem demands. We must think of some project that unites
two precious qualities: first, a rapid and huge profit; second,
entire absence of risk."

"Conditions not altogether easy to fulfill," remarked Kovroff
doubtfully.

"So it seems. And daring plans are not to be picked up in the
street, but are the result of inspiration. It is what is called a
'heavenly gift,' my dear friend."

"And you have had an inspiration?" smiled Sergei Antonovitch, with
a slightly ironical shade of friendly skepticism.

"I have had an inspiration," replied the supposititious Hungarian
nobleman, falling into the other's tone.

"And your muse is--?"

"The tenth of the muses," the count interrupted him: "another name
is Industry."

"She is the muse of all of us."

"And mine in particular. But we are not concerned with her, but
with her prophetic revelations."

"Oh, dear count! Circumlocutions apart! This Rhine wine evidently
carries you to misty Germany. Tell me simply what the matter is."

"The matter is simply this: we must institute a society of 'gold
miners,' and we must find gold in places where the geological
indications are dead against it. That is the problem. The Russian
laws, under threat of arrest and punishment, sternly forbid the
citizens of the Russian Empire, and likewise the citizens of other
lands within the empire, to buy or sell the noble metals in their
crude form, that is, in nuggets, ore, or dust. For example, if you
bought gold in the rough from me--gold dust, for example--we should
both, according to law, have to take a pleasant little trip beyond
the Ural Mountains to Siberia, and there we should have to engage
in mining the precious metal ourselves. A worthy occupation, no
doubt, but not a very profitable one for us."

"Our luxuries would be strictly limited," jested Kovroff, with a
wry smile.

"There it is! You won't find many volunteers for that occupation,
and that is the fulcrum of my whole plan. You must understand that
gold dust in the mass is practically indistinguishable in
appearance from brass filings. Let us suppose that we secretly
sell some perfectly pure brass filings for gold dust, and that they
are readily bought of us, because we sell considerably below the
market rate. It goes without saying that the purchaser will
presently discover that we have done him brown. But, I ask you,
will he go and accuse us knowing that, as the penalty for his
purchase, he will have to accompany us along the Siberian road?"

"No man is his own enemy," sententiously replied Kovroff, beginning
to take a vivid interest in what his companion was saying. "But
how are you going to work it?"

"You will know at the proper time. The chief thing is, that our
problem is solved in the most decisive manner. You and I are
pretty fair judges of human nature, so we may be pretty sure that
we shall always find purchasers, and I suggest that we make a
beginning on young Prince Shadursky. How we shall get him into it
is my business. I'll tell you later on. But how do you like the
general idea of my plan?"

"It's clever enough!" cried Kovroff, pressing his hand with the gay
enthusiasm of genuine interest.

"For this truth much thanks!" cried Kallash, clinking glasses with
him. "It is clever--that is the best praise I could receive from
you. Let us drink to the success of my scheme!"

XV

THE FISH BITES

Three days after this conversation the younger prince Shadursky
dined with Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff.

That morning he received a note from Kovroff, in which the worthy
Sergei complained of ill health and begged the prince to come and
dine with him and cheer him up.

The prince complied with his request, and appearing at the
appointed time found Count Kallash alone with his host.

Among other gossip, the prince announced that he expected shortly
to go to Switzerland, as he had bad reports of the health of his
mother, who was in Geneva.

At this news Kallash glanced significantly toward Kovroff.

Passing from topic to topic, the conversation finally turned to the
financial position of Russia. Sergei Antonovitch, according to his
expression, "went to the root of the matter," and indicated the
"source of the evil," very frankly attacking the policy of the
government, which did everything to discourage gold mining, hedging
round this most important industry with all kinds of difficulties,
and practically prohibiting the free production of the precious
metals by laying on it a dead weight of costly formalities.

"I have facts ready to hand," he went on, summing up his argument.
"I have an acquaintance here, an employee of one of the best-known
men in the gold-mining industry." Here Kovroff mentioned a well-
known name. "He is now in St. Petersburg. Well, a few days ago he
suddenly came to me as if he had something weighing on his mind.
And I have had business relations with him in times past. Well,
what do you think? He suddenly made me a proposal, secretly of
course; would I not take some gold dust off his hands? You must
know that these trusted employees every year bring several hundred
pounds of gold from Asia, and of course it stands to reason that
they cannot get rid of it in the ordinary way, but smuggle it
through private individuals. It is uncommonly profitable for the
purchasers, because they buy far below the market rates. So there
are plenty of purchasers. Several of the leading jewelers" (and
here he named three or four of the best-known firms) "never refuse
such a deal, and last year a banking house in Berlin bought a
hundred pounds' weight of gold through agents here. Well, this
same employee, my acquaintance, is looking for an opportunity to
get rid of his wares. And he tells me he managed to bring in about
forty pounds of gold, if not more. I introduce this fact to
illustrate the difficulties put in the way of enterprise by our
intelligent government."

Shadursky did not greatly occupy himself with serious questions and
he was totally ignorant of all details of financial undertakings.
It was, therefore, perfectly easy for Sergei Antonovitch to assume
a tone of solid, practical sense, which imposed completely on the
young prince. Young Shadursky, from politeness, and to prove his
worldly wisdom, assented to Kovroff's statements with equal
decision. All the same, from this conversation, he quite clearly
seized on the idea that under certain circumstances it would be
possible to buy gold at a much lower price than that demanded by
the Imperial Bank. And this was just the thought which Kallash and
Kovroff wished to sow in the young prince's mind.

"Of course, I myself do not go in for that kind of business," went
on Kovroff carelessly, "and so I could not give my friend any help.
But if some one were going abroad, for instance, he might well risk
such an operation, which would pay him a very handsome profit."

"How so? In what way?" asked Shadursky.

"Very simply. You buy the goods here, as I already said, much
below the government price. So that to begin with you make a very
profitable bargain. Then you go abroad with your wares and there,
as soon as the exchange value of gold goes up, you can sell it at
the nearest bank. I know, for instance, that the agent of the -----
Bank" (and he mentioned a name well known in St. Petersburg) made
many a pretty penny for himself by just such a deal. This is how
it was: He bought gold dust for forty thousand rubles, and six
weeks later got rid of it in Hamburg for sixty thousand. Whatever
you may say, fifty per cent on your capital in a month and a half
is pretty good business."

"Deuce take it! A pretty profitable bargain, without a doubt!"
cried Shadursky, jumping from his chair. "It would just suit me!
I could get rid of it in Geneva or Paris," he went on in a jesting
tone.

"What do you think? Of course!" Sergei Antonovitch took him up,
but in a serious tone. "You or some one else--in any case it would
be a good bargain. For my acquaintance has to go back to Asia, and
has only a few days to spare. He doesn't know where to turn and
rather than take his gold back with him, he would willingly let it
go at an even lower rate than the smugglers generally ask. If I
had enough free cash I would go in for it myself."

"It looks a good proposition," commented Count Kallash.

"It is certainly very enticing; what do you think?" said Prince
Shadursky interrogatively, folding his arms.

"Hm--yes! very enticing," answered Kovroff. "A fine chance for
anyone who has the money."

"I would not object! I would not object!" protested Shadursky.
"Suppose you let me become acquainted with your friend."

"You? Well--" And Kovroff considered; "if you wish. Why not?
Only I warn you, first, if you are going to buy, buy quickly, for
my friend can't wait; and secondly, keep the matter a complete
secret, for very unpleasant results might follow."

"That goes without saying. That stands to reason," assented
Shadursky. "I can get the money at once and I am just going
abroad, in a day or two at the latest. So it would be foolish to
miss such a chance. So it is a bargain?" And he held out his hand
to Kovroff.

"How a bargain?" objected the cautious Sergei Antonovitch. "I am
not personally concerned in the matter, and you must admit, my dear
prince, that I can make no promises for my acquaintance."

"I don't mean that!" cried Shadursky. "I only ask you to arrange
for me to meet him. Bring us together--and drop him a hint that I
do not object to buying his wares. You will confer a great
obligation on me."

"Oh, that is quite a different matter. That I can always do; the
more so, because we are such good friends. Why should I not do you
such a trifling service? As far as an introduction is concerned,
you may count on it."

And they cordially shook each other by the hand.

XVI

GOLD DUST

Both Kallash and Kovroff were too cautious to take an immediate,
personal part in the gold-dust sale. There was a certain
underling, Mr. Escrocevitch by name, at Sergei Kovroff's beck and
call--a shady person, rather dirty in aspect, and who was,
therefore, only admitted to Sergei's presence by the back door and
through the kitchen, and even then only at times when there were no
outsiders present.

Mr. Escrocevitch was a person of general utility and was especially
good at all kinds of conjuring tricks. Watches, snuff-boxes,
cigar-cases, silver spoons, and even heavy bronze paper-weights
acquired the property of suddenly vanishing from under his hands,
and of suddenly reappearing in a quite unexpected quarter. This
valuable gift had been acquired by Mr. Escrocevitch in his early
years, when he used to wander among the Polish fairs, swallowing
burning flax for the delectation of the public and disgorging
endless yards of ribbon and paper.

Mr. Escrocevitch was a precious and invaluable person also owing to
his capacity of assuming any role, turning himself into any given
character, and taking on the corresponding tone, manners, and
appearance, and he was, further, a pretty fair actor.

He it was who was chosen to play the part of the Siberian employee.

Not more than forty-eight hours had passed since the previous
conversation. Prince Shadursky was just up, when his footman
announced to him that a Mr. Valyajnikoff wished to see him.

The prince put on his dressing gown and went into the drawing-room,
where the tolerably presentable but strangely dressed person of Mr.
Escrocevitch presented itself to him.

"Permit me to have the honor of introducing myself," he began,
bowing to Prince Shadursky; "I am Ivanovitch Valyajnikoff. Mr.
Sergei Antonovitch Kovroff was so good as to inform me of a certain
intention of yours about the dust. So, if your excellency has not
changed your mind, I am ready to sell it to you with pleasure."

"Very good of you," answered Prince Shadursky, smiling gayly, and
giving him a chair.

"To lose no time over trifles," continued Mr. Escrocevitch, "let me
invite you to my quarters. I am staying at a hotel; you can see
the goods there; you can make tests, and, if you are satisfied, I
shall be very happy to oblige your excellency."

Prince Shadursky immediately finished dressing, ordered his
carriage, and went out with the supposititious Valyajnikoff. They
drove to a shabby hotel and went to a dingy room.

"This is my poor abode. I am only here on the wing, so to speak.
I humbly request you to be seated," Mr. Escrocevitch said
obsequiously. "Not to lose precious time, perhaps your excellency
would like to look at my wares? Here they are--and I am most
willing to show them."

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