The Secret of the Night [99]
And, while you were dining down there and while Priemkof was on guard at the datcha, that annoying affair Madame Gounsovski has spoken about happened."
Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski's insistences. He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand of the Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering them, for this detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which had been dark enough for hours and was now deepened by what the other had just said. He comprehended only one thing, that a man named Priemkof, whom he had never heard spoken of, as determined as Matiew to destroy the general, had been entrusted by Koupriane with the guard of the datcha des Iles. It was necessary to warn Koupriane instantly.
"How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur Gounsovski? Why wait to speak about it to me? It is unimaginable."
"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles; "it is not the same thing."
"No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the black silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin. "We speak here to a friend in the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We never denounce anybody."
"We must tell you. But sit down now," Gounsovski still insisted, lighting his cigar. "Be reasonable. They have just tried to poison him, so they will take time to breathe before they try something else. Then, too, this poison makes me think they may have given up the idea of living bombs. Then, after all, what is to be will be."
"Yes, yes," approved the ample dame. "The police never have been able to prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it remains between us, eh? Between just us?"
"Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it will be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information from me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or, rather, he would not believe me. That is why we take these precautions of dining and smoking a cigar. We speak of one thing and another and you do as you please with what we say. But, to make them useful, it is absolutely necessary, I repeat, to be silent about their source." (As he said that, Gounsovski gave Rouletabille a piercing glance through his goggles, the first time Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes. He never would have suspected him capable of such fire.) "Priemkof," continued Gounsovski in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously, "was employed here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his fault, it is necessary to say. Then he got into Koupriane's confidence by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur."
"But what could he say? - servants' stories! my dear little monsieur," repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent black eyes furiously. "Stories that have been treated as they deserved at Court, certainly. Madame Daquin, the wife of His Majesty's head-cook, whom you certainly know, and the nephew of the second Maid of Honor to the Empress, who stands very well with his aunt, have told us so; servants' stories that might have ruined us but have not produced any effect on His Majesty, for whom we would give our lives, Christ knows. Well, you understand now that if you were to say to Koupriane, 'Gaspadine Gounsovski has spoken ill to me of Priemkof,' he would not care to hear a word further. Still, Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs, that is all I can tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the poisoning. That poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us. It does not appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will have to come from without. And Priemkof is mixed up in it."
"Yes, yes," approved Madame Gounsovski again, "he is committed to it. There have been stories about him, too. Other people as well as he can tell tales; it isn't hard to do. He has got to make some showing now if he is to keep in with Annouchka's clique."
"Koupriane, our dear
Rouletabille had not sat down, in spite of Madame Gounsovski's insistences. He took the box of cigars brusquely out of the hand of the Chief of the Secret Service, who had continued tendering them, for this detail of hospitality only annoyed his mood, which had been dark enough for hours and was now deepened by what the other had just said. He comprehended only one thing, that a man named Priemkof, whom he had never heard spoken of, as determined as Matiew to destroy the general, had been entrusted by Koupriane with the guard of the datcha des Iles. It was necessary to warn Koupriane instantly.
"How is it that you have not done so already, yourself, Monsieur Gounsovski? Why wait to speak about it to me? It is unimaginable."
"Pardon, pardon," said Gounsovski, smiling softly behind his goggles; "it is not the same thing."
"No, no, it is not the same thing," seconded the lady with the black silk, brilliant jewels and flabby chin. "We speak here to a friend in the course of dinner-talk, to a friend who is not of the police. We never denounce anybody."
"We must tell you. But sit down now," Gounsovski still insisted, lighting his cigar. "Be reasonable. They have just tried to poison him, so they will take time to breathe before they try something else. Then, too, this poison makes me think they may have given up the idea of living bombs. Then, after all, what is to be will be."
"Yes, yes," approved the ample dame. "The police never have been able to prevent what was bound to happen. But, speaking of this Priemkof, it remains between us, eh? Between just us?"
"Yes, we must tell you now," Gounsovski slipped in softly, "that it will be much better not to let Koupriane know that you got the information from me. Because then, you understand, he would not believe you; or, rather, he would not believe me. That is why we take these precautions of dining and smoking a cigar. We speak of one thing and another and you do as you please with what we say. But, to make them useful, it is absolutely necessary, I repeat, to be silent about their source." (As he said that, Gounsovski gave Rouletabille a piercing glance through his goggles, the first time Rouletabille had seen such a look in his eyes. He never would have suspected him capable of such fire.) "Priemkof," continued Gounsovski in a low voice, using his handkerchief vigorously, "was employed here in my home and we separated on bad terms, through his fault, it is necessary to say. Then he got into Koupriane's confidence by saying the worst he could of us, my dear little monsieur."
"But what could he say? - servants' stories! my dear little monsieur," repeated the fat dame, and rolled her great magnificent black eyes furiously. "Stories that have been treated as they deserved at Court, certainly. Madame Daquin, the wife of His Majesty's head-cook, whom you certainly know, and the nephew of the second Maid of Honor to the Empress, who stands very well with his aunt, have told us so; servants' stories that might have ruined us but have not produced any effect on His Majesty, for whom we would give our lives, Christ knows. Well, you understand now that if you were to say to Koupriane, 'Gaspadine Gounsovski has spoken ill to me of Priemkof,' he would not care to hear a word further. Still, Priemkof is in the scheme for the living bombs, that is all I can tell you; at least, he was before the affair of the poisoning. That poisoning is certainly very astonishing, between us. It does not appear to have come from without, whereas the living bombs will have to come from without. And Priemkof is mixed up in it."
"Yes, yes," approved Madame Gounsovski again, "he is committed to it. There have been stories about him, too. Other people as well as he can tell tales; it isn't hard to do. He has got to make some showing now if he is to keep in with Annouchka's clique."
"Koupriane, our dear