“At my instigation?”
“Yes, at yours!”
He laughed again, but uneasily, a forced laugh, and leaned against the edge of the big writing-table near the window.
“Well, what next?” he inquired, pretending to be interested in my allegations. “What do you want of me?”
“I desire you to give the Mademoiselle Heath her complete freedom,” I said.
“Is that all?”
“All—for the present.”
“But her future is not in my hands. The Minister in Petersburg has decreed her removal to Saghalien as a person dangerous to the State.”
“Which means that she will be ill-treated—knouted to death, perhaps.”
“We do not use the knout in the Russian prisons nowadays,” he said briefly. “His Majesty has decreed its abolition.”
“But you adopt torture in Kajana and Schusselburg instead.”
“My time is too limited to discuss our penal system, m’sieur,” he exclaimed impatiently, while I could well see that he was anxious to escape before I made any further charges against him. I had already shown him that Elma had spoken, and he feared that she had told the truth. While this would embitter him against her and cause him to seek to silence her at all hazards, it was of course in my own interests that he should fear any revelations that I might make.
“You have posed in England as the uncle of Elma Heath, and yet you here hold her prisoner. For what reason?” I demanded.
“She is held prisoner by the State—for conspiracy against Russian rule—not by herself personally.”
“Who enticed her here? Why you, yourself. Who conspired to throw the guilt of this attempted murder of the general’s wife upon her? You—you, the man whom they call ‘The Strangler of Finland’! But I will avenge the cruel and abominable affliction you have placed upon her. Her secret—your secret, Baron Oberg—shall be published to the world. You are her enemy—and therefore mine!”
“Very well,” he growled between his teeth, advancing towards me threateningly, his fists clenched in his rage. “Recollect, m’sieur, that you have insulted me. Recollect that I am Governor-General of Finland.”
“If you were Czar himself, I should not hesitate to denounce you as the tyrant and mutilator of a poor defenseless woman.”
“And to whom, pray, will you tell this romantic story of yours?” he laughed hoarsely. “To your prison walls below the lake at Kajana? Yes, M’sieur Gregg, you will go there, and once within the fortress you shall never again see the light of day. You threaten me—the Governor-General of Finland!” he laughed in a strange, high-pitched key as he threw himself into a chair and scribbled something rapidly upon paper, appending his signature in his small crabbed handwriting.
“I do not threaten,” I said in open defiance, “I shall act.”
“And so shall I,” he said with an evil grin upon his bony face as he blotted what he had written and took it up, adding: “In the darkness and silence of your living tomb, you can tell whatever strange stories you like concerning me. They are used to idiots where you are going,” he added grimly.