This would have been about four o'clock of the morning. He slept a little while upon it, but woke again at five and sat up in bed to mark a step on the landing without and to ask himself who had the right to be there at such an hour. When he had waited a little while, he came to the conclusion that two people were approaching his door and making little secret of their coming. Presently a knock informed him that he had nothing whatever to fear; and upon asking the question "What do you want?" a voice answered immediately, "From the bureau, your excellency, with a letter." This he concluded to mean that the Chief of the Police had some important news to convey to him and had sent his own messenger to the hotel.
"Wait a moment and I will let you in," he replied, and asked, "I suppose you can wait a little while?"
"It is very urgent, excellency--you had better open at once."
The Count sprang up from his bed and drew the curtains back from the window. A warm glow of sunlight instantly suffused the cold room and warmed it with welcome beams. Down there in the streets the Cossacks still nodded upon patient horses as though no event of the night had disturbed them. A drosky passed, driving an old man to the railway station--there were porters at the doors of some of the houses and a few wagons going down toward the river. All this Sergius perceived instantly in one swift vision. Then he opened the door and admitted the officer.
"There were two of you," he exclaimed, peering down the passage.
"It is true, excellency, myself and the night-porter, but he has gone to sleep again."
"And you?"
"From the Chief, excellency, with this letter."
He held out a great square document, grotesquely sealed and carefully folded. A small man with a pockmarked face, he wore the uniform of an ordinary gendarme and aped that rôle to perfection. Saluting gravely, he permitted the letter to pass from his hands. Then he closed the door and leaned his back against it.
"I am to take an answer to the bureau, excellency."
The Count read a few lines of the document and looked up uneasily.
"You say that you were commanded to wake me up--for this?"
"Those are my orders."
"Zaniloff must have lost his wits--there was nothing else?"
The man took one stride forward.
"Yes," he cried in a low voice, "there was this, excellency."
* * * * * Alban slept no better than his friend; in truth he hardly closed his eyes until they waked him and told him of the tragedy. He had said little to Sergius during the evening, but the perplexities of the long day remained with him and were not to be readily silenced.