Chapter XXII: In Which an Inconsiderate Russian Raises a Ghost

The voyage was uneventful. After some delays, the _Arbiter_, in which Pasquett and his companions sailed, found safe passage round North Cape and got through the Kara Strait and the dangerous sea beyond without being once ice-bound or suffering a single misadventure. It was a warm spring, and the passage had cleared early in the year. The _Arbiter_ anchored in the mouth of the Yenisei River well before her time, and had several days' waiting before the arrival of the river steamer and barges to which she was to transfer her cargo.

A voyage, in a ship carrying few passengers, is a testing time for human friendships. But the three leaders of the expedition had no quarrels, and never once became bored with one another's society. All three had excellent tempers, and plenty to say. The friendship between Arthur and John Pasquett ripened into close affection.

From the time when they arrived in the river there was plenty of occupation, for the business of convoying the barges up the river, past a dozen difficult points, with quite inadequate charts and an awkward cargo, demanded all their attention. Alison as well as Pasquett could speak Russian, and most of the work therefore devolved on them. Arthur had already set himself to learn the language before leaving England, but he found it hard to get into the way of talking it fluently, and few of the Russians he had to deal with could speak either French or German.

At length they reached the area of the concession, a barren tract some distance above Lusino, populated only by a few nomadic tribesmen, save for a deserted monastery, which they occupied as a headquarters. At once Pasquett and Alison, using the old notes compiled by Pasquett and Radlett some years before, began a full survey of the area, verifying every particular, and proving up to the hilt the eminently satisfactory forecasts which Pasquett had made. It was Arthur's business, meanwhile, to superintend, with the skilled men they had brought out, the erection of the camp, and to make full and regular reports of progress to Lord Ealing. It was also his task, with Pasquett, to conduct the necessary negotiations with the Soviet representatives on the points of detail which were constantly arising.

At length, the whole of the survey was complete, and preliminary mining operations definitely begun. But, before the work could be extended, it was necessary to clear up a number of points connected with the supply and conditions of labour. It became evident that one of them must make the long journey to Moscow, in order to conclude a subsidiary agreement with the central Soviet authorities.

Pasquett was clearly the man best fitted, as an original holder of the concession, and the most familiar with Russian conditions, for this task, and it was soon decided that he should go. Arthur had some thoughts of making the journey with him, but his presence at the workings seemed to be indispensable, as Alison could not be left to manage everything alone. So Pasquett went. Arthur missed him greatly, though he had too much to do to find time for being bored.

It was during Pasquett's absence that a very odd thing happened. Arthur had by this time learnt to speak Russian fluently--far better than Alison, who was a bad linguist, would ever speak it. So much of the dealing with outsiders, including the local Soviet authorities, fell into his hands. He had charge, too, of the provisioning of the camp, under an arrangement with the Co-operative Societies which flourish in Siberia. The odd thing arose out of a visit from an agent of one of these societies, from whom Arthur was purchasing a big consignment of meat.

The business being concluded, Arthur and the agent fell into talk. The man was an old Russian from Petrograd, formerly a political exile, who had settled down permanently in Siberia and been one of the pioneers of Siberian Co-operation. Pasquett's name came up in the course of their conversation. Arthur mentioned that the leader of their party, John Pasquett, was away in Moscow.

"I came across a John Pasquett," said the agent, "some time ago, when I was down in Turkestan. I wonder if your friend is any relation of his."

"I expect it was the man himself," said Arthur. "Mr. Pasquett has spent many years in Siberia."

The old man shook his head. "No," he said, "the John Pasquett I mean died two years ago. Is Pasquett a common name in your country?"

"I never met it until I was introduced to Mr. Pasquett. A most uncommon name, I should say. You must be mistaken."

"No. I remember the circumstances well. John Pasquett had been imprisoned in Turkestan, under suspicion of being a counter-revolutionary."

"Why," said Arthur, "it's the same man. He has told me all about it. But he's very far from being dead, I assure you."

"My John Pasquett died," said the Russian. "I know, because I signed his death certificate. I was a Soviet Commissary in Turkestan at the time."

"Well, all I can say is John Pasquett is very much alive now. I don't think I ever met any one who was more alive."

"He was with an American named Radlett," said the Russian. "They were both in prison together, and they both escaped. Radlett, I believe, got clean away in the end. I heard of his being in Moscow afterwards. But Pasquett died of exposure up on the Pamir Plateau. He was trying to get away to India."

"You've got half the story right," said Arthur. "Only they did both get away. They were both living in Reval till a few months ago."

"And you say Pasquett has been here with you?"

"Yes. The government granted this concession to him and Radlett, and my firm took it up jointly with him. Mr. Pasquett is at the head of it now, since Radlett's death."

"Radlett is dead, then?"

"He was murdered in London a few months ago."

"But Pasquett is alive. No, Mr. Wharton, there is something wrong here. Let me tell you exactly what I know."

The old Russian had a perfectly circumstantial tale to tell. Pasquett and Radlett had planned to escape together from prison. Pasquett had got away, but Radlett had been recaptured. He had allowed himself to be taken in order to enable his friend to make good his escape. So far the story tallied with Radlett's own narrative, told in the manuscript which had been found among his papers. Then, a while later, Radlett had also escaped, with help from outside, rendered by Pasquett, who had remained in the neighbourhood, instead of making for India. The two men had then got away clear to the mountains. A week later a peasant had delivered at the prison a note which had been given to him by a man he had met up in the mountains. It was from Radlett. The note said that Pasquett had died of exposure, and asked the prison authorities to give his body burial. Radlett explained in the note where the body was to be found, and said that he himself would be safe in India before the news could reach them. A search party had gone up the hills and buried Pasquett's body, bringing back the few things found at the camp, including Pasquett's clothes. He himself had seen the clothes, and other effects, and had countersigned the certificate of death drawn up by the prison doctor.

"You never actually saw the body?" asked Arthur.

"No; but my friend Dr. Borsin, who accompanied the expedition, saw it, and certified that it was his."

"Did Dr. Borsin know Pasquett?"

"He knew all the prisoners."

"Yet I can swear to you that Pasquett is alive."

"It is no business of mine, but may it not be that the gentleman who now calls himself Pasquett is some one quite different?"

Arthur laughed at the suggestion as absurd. "I'll ask Pasquett to tell me what happened when he gets back," he said. "He'll be able to explain it all, I've no doubt. Either your man just made a mistake in identifying the body, or Pasquett and Radlett deliberately misled you, as part of their scheme for escape."

The Russian shook his head. "No," he said, "or why did Mr. Radlett, when I met him a month or two later in India, get me to write him out a copy of Pasquett's death certificate? He said he wanted it to show to his relatives."

Arthur looked his amazement. "You met Mr. Radlett in India, and he asked you for Pasquett's death certificate? Incredible.... How did you come to be in India?"

"I was on a confidential mission. We met wholly by accident. Of course, I did not want to be recognised as a Russian agent. Radlett promised not to give me away if I would get him a signed copy of the death certificate and have his papers from Turkestan sent for and handed over to him. He had been compelled to leave them behind in his flight."

"You sent them?"

"Yes. I did not recognise Mr. Radlett. I had only seen him among a number of prisoners. But he knew me at once."

"It can't have been Radlett. He was with Pasquett afterwards. The whole thing makes nonsense."

"I'm only telling you what happened. Perhaps the gentleman who calls himself Pasquett will be able to offer some explanation."

"I give it up," said Arthur. "I'll ask Pasquett what it all means when he comes back."

* * * * *

Pasquett returned a few days after this talk, and he and Arthur sat talking far into the night, after Alison had gone to bed. "By the way," said Arthur, "I heard a very curious story here the other day. It appears that you are dead."

Pasquett jumped. "Dead? My dear chap, what on earth do you mean?"

"Well, anyhow, I had a chap here who says he signed your death certificate down in Turkestan."

"My death certificate?"

"Yes, yours," said Arthur, laughing. "He told me all about how you and Radlett escaped from prison. It was just the same about your escape as Radlett had written in that story of his, and as you have told me. He said you had stayed behind and helped Radlett to escape, too, but then he went on to say the prison people had a note from Radlett saying you had died up in the hills, and asking them to bury your body. He said they did bury you, and he signed your death certificate."

Pasquett said nothing until Arthur paused. Then he put in a word. "What an extraordinary tale," he said. "Is the man likely to come back?"

"No," said Arthur, "he has left this part of the country, I believe."

"What a pity," said Pasquett lightly. "I'm sorry to miss meeting so fluent a liar. All Russians are liars, you know. It's the national vice."

"You did stay behind and help Radlett escape, didn't you?"

"Yes. My arrangement with him was that, if either of us got away, he was to make straight for India and get back to Europe, leaving a letter at the Governor's in Bombay to say where he had gone. But, when it came to the point, I found I couldn't go away and leave him. So I went back and managed to help him to get away."

"But the rest of the story's just nonsense, is it?"

"Entirely. Of course, we both escaped afterwards, and came to Europe together."

"I'm sure the man who told me thought he was telling the truth."

"Perhaps he did, but he wasn't, or I shouldn't be here. That's plain."

"He said he had an actual note from Radlett saying you were dead, and that Radlett, when he met him in India later, specially asked him for a copy of the certificate of your death from the prison returns."

"My dear fellow, the whole thing makes nonsense, unless----"

"Unless what?"

"Well, unless Radlett played some trick on them and never told me about it. But I can't see what on earth he could have gained by pretending I was dead. No, the story's absurd, my dear chap."

"But some one did die. There was a body."

"Very likely some one did. But it wasn't I, and it wasn't poor Hugh."

"It's an odd story for any one to have made up, Jack, isn't it?"

"I agree; but these Russians are queer birds. Why, in Moscow the other day----" And Pasquett tactfully changed the subject.

* * * * *

Arthur's Russian acquaintance had not expected to pay another visit to the camp. He had told Arthur he was leaving that part of the country. But a few days later, when Arthur had nearly forgotten his strange story, he met him again in the hotel at Yeniseisk whither he had gone to make some arrangements about the supply of stores for the concession. It was not Arthur who returned to the subject of their late conversation, as they sat talking together in the evening.

"You remember that story I told you about John Pasquett," said the Russian. "As it happens, I was going through some old papers the other day, and I found that letter of Radlett's I mentioned to you, telling us about Pasquett's death, and where to find the body. I had kept it because I had made some notes of my own on the back of it. Here it is, if you'd like to have a look at it." He withdrew a dirty piece of paper from his pocket-book.

Arthur read the note, which was in Russian, and dated nearly two years before. It was signed "Hugh Radlett," and appeared to be in Radlett's own writing, of which Arthur had seen a number of examples. He read the note, and asked if he might keep it. The Russian readily agreed.

"And by the way," he said, "I met Dr. Borsin the other day, and he confirms absolutely my recollections. It was he who made out the certificate of death. He says he had often seen Pasquett in the prison, and that he identified the body. Have you seen Pasquett since I spoke to you?"

"Yes."

"What does he say about it?"

"He says he thought it was all a cock-and-bull story."

The Russian shrugged his shoulders, and said no more for a full minute. Then he smiled.

"I should like to see this John Pasquett of yours," he said.

"He'll be here to-morrow," said Arthur. "You shall see him."

* * * * *

Pasquett arrived at Yeniseisk on the following day. The Russian was out when he came, but was to call in the evening. "You remember," said Arthur, "that story I told you about the man who said you were dead. I've seen him again, and he gave me this." Arthur threw the letter across the table.

Pasquett looked sharply at him, and went red as he looked at the letter.

"That's Radlett's writing, isn't it?" said Arthur. "Look here, Jack, there must be some explanation of this. Did you tell me the truth the other day? Or is there something you want to hide? I want to know what there is behind this story. Come, now, are you John Pasquett, or aren't you? You're my friend, and I think I have a right to ask you."

For once in his life Pasquett seemed at a loss. There was a silence before he replied. "Arthur," he said, "I swear to you I am John Pasquett. Do you believe me?"

"Yes, Jack, I believe you; but all the same I want to know why Hugh Radlett wrote that letter, and whose body they took for yours, and why you didn't tell me the truth. For I believe, Jack, you do know the story that's behind this. Can you look me in the face and say you don't?"

Pasquett was again slow in answering. "I did tell you the truth," he said. "I don't know anything at all about it." But this time Arthur did not believe him.

"Look here, Jack, isn't that Radlett's writing?"

"If it is, he never said a word about it to me. It's as much a mystery to me as it is to you."

"Jack, that Russian fellow, who knew you down in Turkestan, is coming back here to meet you this evening. I asked him to."

At this news Pasquett was plainly flustered. "Didn't I tell you," he said, "I must start back this afternoon? They're at a critical stage now with the sinkings, and I must get back to take charge. I wouldn't have come to-day unless I'd promised you."

"I'm sorry, Jack, but you must really stay and meet this man--or else tell me all about it. Why don't you want to meet him? You're only making an excuse to get away."

"Look here, Arthur. We're good friends, but I don't know by what right you are putting me through this catechism. Suppose I don't want to meet this man, why should I meet him? Mayn't I have reasons of my own? What is it to do with you?"

It was Arthur now who paused before answering. He had to think. "I don't like saying it, Jack, but because--because I'm not sure of you any longer. It's your manner--the way you've taken this. I'm not even sure now you are John Pasquett."

"Well, my lad, I didn't expect this from you, and I'm not used to being mistrusted like this. I shan't stay to meet your friend. If you are my friend, I have a right to ask you to trust me. I am John Pasquett, Arthur, I swear it to you. Now, does that satisfy you?"

"Stay and meet him, Jack," said Arthur. "No, don't, only promise to tell me why you won't."

"Perhaps ... not now," said Pasquett. "I must be going."

As he turned to go, a third man entered the room. Mutual recognition was immediate. The newcomer spoke first, in Russian. "Good-evening, Mr. Radlett," said he.