MY SIXTH STAGE

In London, during a particularly dull and sweltering early September, Mark Shrewsbury found himself grappling with the lethargy that the city imposed. Despite the tangible comforts of his chambers and the utility of his cherished typewriter, his spirit waned under the monotony and the oppressive heat, rendering his novel-writing process more grueling than ever.

Amidst this listless phase, Shrewsbury’s routine took a turn during an encounter at his club. A casual reunion with a friend just returned from Switzerland sparked a conversation that veered towards the allure of scandalous tales. Seizing the opportunity, Shrewsbury recounted a tale not of scandal, but of a ‘successful scoundrel,’ inadvertently giving life to a slander that had lain dormant.

This slander, having been previously nurtured in the gossip circles, found a new voice in Shrewsbury. His recounting, though brief and lacking in embellishments, was rendered compelling through his narrative flair. The story’s revival captured the attention of an eavesdropping club member, who, recognizing Shrewsbury’s credibility and recalling the connection of the tale to an Archdeacon’s wife, was propelled into action.

Concerned for his niece’s well-being and stirred by the gravity of the allegations now linked to Sigismund Zaluski, a suitor with purportedly dubious credentials, this club member—Gertrude Morley’s uncle—was impelled to seek clarity. He promptly penned a letter to a reliable associate in St. Petersburg, urging a thorough investigation into Zaluski’s character and past activities. The letter highlighted grave concerns about Zaluski’s alleged involvement in anarchistic activities, atheism, and his potential connection to the assassination of the Czar in March 1881. With the seriousness of these charges, the uncle’s resolve to protect his ward was undeniable, showcasing the rapid escalation from hearsay to potential life-altering actions spurred by the reinvigorated slander.