It is rather late, but the Hetman is convinced that the mistake can be rectified.'
'I sincerely hope to God that it can', and Alexei Turbin crossed himself in the direction of the ikon of the Virgin in the corner of the room.
'Now the plan was as follows,' Shervinsky announced solemnly. 'Once the war was over the Germans would have recovered, and turned to help us against the Bolsheviks.
Then when Moscow was captured, the Hetman would have laid the allegiance of the Ukraine at the feet of His Majesty the Emperor Nicholas II.'
At this remark a deathly silence fell on the room.
Nikolka turned white with agony.
'But the Emperor is dead', he whispered.
'What d'you mean - Nicholas II?' asked Alexei Turbin in astunned voice, and Myshlaevsky, swaying, squinted drunkenly into Shervinsky's glass.
Obviously Shervinsky had had one too many to keep his courage up.
Leaning her head on one hand, Elena stared in horror at him.
But Shervinsky was not particularly drunk. He raised his hand and said in a powerful voice:
'Not so fast. Listen.
But I beg you, gentlemen, to remain silent until I've finished what I have to say.
I suppose you all know what happened when the Hetman's suite was presented to Kaiser Wilhelm?'
'We haven't the slightest idea', said Karas with interest.
'Well, I know.'
'Huh!
He knows everything', sneered Myshlaevsky.
'Gentlemen!
Let him speak.'
'After the Kaiser had graciously spoken to the Hetman and his suite he said:
"I shall now leave you, gentlemen; discussion of the future will be conducted with ..."
The drapes parted and into the hall came Tsar Nicholas II.
"Go back to the Ukraine, gentlemen," he said, "and raise your regiments.
When the moment comes I shall place myself in person at the head of the army and lead it on to the heart of Russia-to Moscow." With these words he broke down and wept.'
Shervinsky beamed round at the whole company, tossed down a glass of wine in one gulp and grimaced.
Ten eyes stared at him and silence reigned until he had sat down and eaten a slice of ham.
'See here . . . that's all a myth', said Alexei Turbin, frowning painfully. 'I've heard that story before.'
'They were all murdered,' said Myshlaevsky, 'the Tsar, the Tsarina and the heir.'
Shervinsky glanced sideways towards the stove, took a deep breath and declared:
'You're making a mistake if you believe that.
The news of His Imperial Majesty's death . . .'
'Is slightly exaggerated', said Myshlaevsky in a drunken attempt at wit.
Elena shivered indignantly and boomed out of the haze at him.
'You should be ashamed at yourself, Viktor - you, an officer.'
Myshlaevsky sank back into the mist.
'. . . was purposely invented by the Bolsheviks', Shervinsky went on.
'The Emperor succeeded in escaping with the aid of his faithful tutor . . . er, sorry, of the Tsarevich's tutor, Monsieur Gilliard and several officers, who conveyed him to er, to Asia.
From there they reached Singapore and thence by sea to Europe.
Now the Emperor is the guest of Kaiser Wilhelm.'
'But wasn't the Kaiser thrown out too?' Karas enquired.
'They are both in Denmark, with Her Majesty the Empress-Dowager Maria Fyodorovna, who is a Danish princess by birth.
If you don't believe me, I may tell you that I was personally told this news by the Hetman himself.'
Nikolka groaned inwardly, his soul racked with doubt and confusion.
He wanted to believe it.
'Then if it's true,' he suddenly burst out, jumping to his feet and wiping the sweat from his brow, 'I propose a toast: to the health of His Imperial Majesty!' His glass flashed, the cut-crystal arrows on its side piercing the German white wine.
Spurs clinked against chair-legs.
Swaying, Myshlaevsky stood up and clutched the table.
Elena stood up.
Her crescent braid of golden hair had unwound itself and her hair hung down beside her temples.