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Updated: June 8, 2025
I'm dying, Jack, to know everything concerning her. Who is that fellow Oberg?" "Her enemy. She, by mere accident, learned his secret and Woodroffe's, and they now both live in deadly fear of her." "And for that reason she was taken to Siena, where some villainous Italian doctor was bribed to render her deaf and dumb." He nodded in the affirmative. "But Chater?" "I know very little concerning him.
The cigar which Oberg had pressed upon him down in the saloon had exploded, and the small missile concealed inside the diabolical contrivance had passed upwards into his brain. For a moment I stood utterly stupefied, yet as I looked I saw the Baron, in a paroxysm of rage, shake his fist in the dead man's face, and cry with a fearful imprecation: 'You hound!
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."
They were, however, bitterly disappointed because the despatches had not arrived." "And then?" "Well, the only Russian who appeared to have any connection with them was Baron Oberg, the Governor-General of Finland, whose habit it was to spend part of the winter in the Mediterranean.
"I am very sorry, m'sieur, but I fear it will be necessary in that case for you to write to his Excellency, and mark your letter 'personal. It will then go into the Governor-General's own hands." "What I have to say cannot be committed to writing," was my reply. "I must see Baron Oberg upon a matter which affects him personally, and which admits of no delay."
If you will, I will reconsider my decision of complaining to Petersburg." "And what is that, Excellency?" he gasped eagerly. "I desire to know the whereabouts of a young English lady named Elma Heath," I said, and I wrote down the name for him upon a piece of paper. "Age about twenty, and was at school at Chichester, in England. She is a niece of a certain Baron Oberg."
"Then the name and appearance of the yacht was altered on the voyage, and it became the Lola," I said. "No doubt," he smiled. "The Iris was a steamer of many names, and had, I believe, been painted nearly all the colors of the rainbow at various times. It was a mysterious vessel, but she exists no more. They scuttled her somewhere up in the Baltic, I've heard." "And who is this Oberg?"
In order to prevent the execution of this supposed design, general Oberg decamped on the tenth of October, and, passing by the village of Landwernhagen, advanced towards Lutten-berg, where, understanding the enemy were at his heels, he forthwith formed his troops in order of battle, his right to the Fulde, and his left extending to a thicket upon an eminence, where he planted five field-pieces.
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