The answer was simple: someone had stolen his seal and sealing wax and forged the letter. Then, using that letter, they had successfully lured the Warsaw garrison here to welcome him, the imperial envoy.
Khlekov wanted to say that the words on the page weren't his. But having someone else write your letters was nothing unusual at the time, especially among nobles and officials. In some ways, it was even considered an elegant practice.
By now, Khlekov knew only one thing: he could jump into the Yellow River and still never wash away the stain.
As for destroying the letter, that was even more out of the question. If nothing had happened, perhaps he could have managed it, but now they would guard that letter as if their lives depended on it.
"Damn it! We have to march for Warsaw City at once! Take Warsaw back!"
Khlekov roared until his voice broke. This was perhaps his only chance to clear his name.
Meanwhile, elsewhere...
After the Polish Restorationists learned that the imperial envoy's seal had been used to forge a letter, they sent it to the garrison headquarters outside Warsaw City as quickly as they could.
The messenger was an official of the Russian-controlled Poland government, and he might not even have known what was in the letter himself, so nothing went wrong.
Although Zhiznevsky, the garrison commander, wasn't pleased, he was already used to grand nobles making a show of themselves. He didn't give it much thought.
After all, the imperial envoy outranked him. More than that, he had the authority to tour the provinces on behalf of the Tsar. There was no need to offend him over such a small matter.
The Warsaw garrison commander didn't think twice before sending his two most trusted—and most tactful—generals, along with