THE TRIAL OF VON BLITZ
The next morning found the weather unsettled. There had been a fierce
storm during the night and a nasty mist was blowing up from the sea.
Deppingham kept to his room, although his cold was dissipated. For the
first time in all those blistering, trying months, they felt a chill in
the air; raw, wet, unexpected.
Chase had been up nearly all of the night, fearful lest the islanders
should seize the opportunity to scale the walls under cover of the
tempest. All through the night he had been possessed of a spirit of wild
bravado, a glorious exaltation: he was keeping watch over her, standing
between her and peril, guarding her while she slept. He thought of that
mass of Henner hair--he loved to think of her as a creation of the
fanciful Henner--he thought of her asleep and dreaming in blissful
security while he, with all the loyalty of an imaginative boy, was
standing guard just as he had pictured himself in those heroic days when
he substituted himself for the story-book knight who stood beneath the
battlements and defied the covetous ogre. His thoughts, however, did not
contemplate the Princess fair in a state of wretched insomnia, with
himself as the disturbing element.
He looked for her at breakfast time. They usually had their rolls and
coffee together. When she did not appear, he made more than one pretext
to lengthen his own stay in the breakfast-room. "She's trying to forget
yesterday," he reflected. "What was it she said about always regretting?
Oh, well, it's the way of women. I'll wait," he concluded with the
utmost confidence in the powers of patience.
Selim came to him in the midst of his reflections, bearing a thick,
rain-soaked envelope.
"It was found, excellency, inside the southern gate, and it is meant for
you," said Selim. Chase gingerly slashed open the envelope with his
fruit knife. He laughed ruefully as he read the simple but laborious
message from Jacob von Blitz.
"_Where are your warships all this time? They are not coming to you
ever. Good-bye. You got to die yet, too. Your friend, Jacob von Blitz.
And my wives, too._"
Chase stuffed the blurred, sticky letter into his pocket and arose to
stretch himself.
"There's something coming to you, Jacob," he said, much to the wonder of
Selim. "Selim, unless I miss my guess pretty badly, we'll be having a
message--not from Garcia--but from Rasula before long. You've never
heard of Garcia? Well, come along. I'll tell you something about him as
we take our morning stroll. How are my cigarettes holding out?"
"They run low, sahib. Neenah has given all of hers to me for you,
excellency, and I have demanded those of the wives of Von Blitz."
"Selim, you must not forget that you are a gentleman. That was most
ungallant. But I suppose you got them?"
"No, sahib. They refused to give them up. They are saving them for Mr.
Britt," said Selim dejectedly.
"Ah, the ficklety of women!" he sighed. "There's a new word for you,
Selim--ficklety. I like it better than fickleness, don't you? Sounds
like frailty, too. Was there any shooting after I went to bed?" His
manner changed suddenly from the frivolous to the serious.
"No, sahib."
"I don't understand their game," he mused, a perplexed frown on his
brow. "They've quit popping away at us."
It was far past midday when he heard from Rasula. The disagreeable
weather may have been more or less responsible for the ruffling of
Chase's temper during those long, dreary hours of waiting. Be that as it
may, he was sorely tried by the feeling of loneliness that attached
itself to him. He had seen the Princess but once, and then she was
walking briskly, wrapped in a rain coat, followed by her shivering dogs,
and her two Rapp-Thorberg soldiers! Somehow she failed to see Chase as
he sauntered hungrily, almost imploringly across the upper terrace, in
plain view. Perhaps, after all, it was not the weather.
Rasula's messenger came to the gates and announced that he had a letter
for Mr. Chase. He was admitted to the grounds and conducted to the sick
chamber of "the commandant." Hollingsworth Chase read the carefully
worded, diplomatic letter from the native lawyer, his listeners paying
the strictest attention. After the most courteous introductory, Rasula
had this to say:
"We have reason to suspect that you were right in your suspicions. The
golden plate has been found this day in the cave below the château, just
as you have said. This much of what you have charged against Jacob von
Blitz seems to be borne out by the evidence secured. Last night there
was an attempt to rob the vaults in the company's bank. Again I followed
your advice and laid a trap for the men engaged. They were slain in the
struggle which followed. This fact is much to be deplored. Your command
that these men be given a fair trial cannot be obeyed. They died
fighting after we had driven them to the wall. I have to inform you,
sir, that your charge against Jacob von Blitz does not hold good in the
case of the bank robbery. Therefore, I am impelled to believe that you
may have unjustly accused him of being implicated in the robbery of the
treasure chests. He was not among the bank thieves. There were but three
of them--the Boer foremen. Jacob von Blitz came up himself and joined us
in the fight against the traitors. He was merciless in his anger against
them. You have said that you will testify against him. Sir, I have taken
it upon myself to place him under restraint, notwithstanding his actions
against the Boers. He shall have a fair trial. If it is proved that he
is guilty, he shall pay the penalty. We are just people.
"Sir, we, the people of Japat, will take you at your word. We ask you to
appear against the prisoner and give evidence in support of your charge.
He shall be placed on trial to-morrow morning at ten o'clock. On my
honour as a man and a Believer, I assure safety to you while you are
among us on that occasion. You shall find that we are honourable--more
honourable than the people you now serve so dearly. I, Rasula, will meet
you at the gates and will conduct you back to them in safety. If you are
a true man, you will not evade the call. I beg to assure you that your
testimony against Jacob von Blitz shall be weighed carefully and without
prejudice by those who are to act as his judges. My messenger will carry
your reply to us. RASULA."
"Well, it looks as though Von Blitz has spiked your guns," said
Deppingham. "The dog turns against his confederates and saves his own
skin by killing them."
"In any event," said Browne, "you spoiled his little game. He loses the
treasure and he didn't get into the vaults. Rasula should take those
points into consideration."
"He won't forget them, rest assured. That's why I'm sure that he'll take
my word at the trial as against that of Von Blitz," said Chase.
"You--you don't mean to say, Mr. Chase, that you are going into the
town?" cried Lady Agnes, wide-eyed.
"Certainly, Lady Deppingham. They are expecting me."
"Don't be foolhardy, Chase. They will kill you like a rat," exclaimed
Deppingham.
"Oh, no, they won't," said the other confidently. "They've given their
promise through Rasula. Whatever else they may be, they hold a promise
sacred. They know I'll come. If I don't, they'll know that I am a
coward. You wouldn't have them think I _am_ a coward, would you, Lady
Deppingham?" he said, turning to look into her distressed face with his
most winning smile.
The next morning he coolly set forth for the gates, scarcely thinking
enough of the adventure to warrant the matter-of-fact "good-byes" that
he bestowed upon those who were congregated to see him off. His heart
was sore as he strode rapidly down the drive. Genevra had not come down
to say farewell.
"By heaven," he muttered, strangely vexed with her, "I fancy she means
it. She's bent on showing me my place. But she might have come down and
wished me good luck. That was little enough for her to do. Ah, well," he
sighed, putting it away from him.
As he turned into the tree-lined avenue near the gate, a slender young
woman in a green and white gown arose from a seat in the shade and
stepped a pace forward, opening her parasol quite leisurely as he
quickened his steps. His eyes gleamed with the sudden rush of joy that
filled his whole being. She stood there, waiting for him, under the
trees. There was an expression in her face that he had never seen there
before. She was smiling, it is true, but there was something like
defiance--yes, it was the set, strained smile of resolution that greeted
his eager exclamation. Her eyes gleamed brightly and she was breathing
as one who has run swiftly.
"You are determined to go down there among those men?" she demanded, the
smile suddenly giving way to a look of disapproval. She ignored his
hand.
"Certainly," he said, after the moment of bewilderment. "Why not? I--I
thought you had made up your mind to let me go without a--a word for
good luck." She found great difficulty in meeting the wistful look in
his eyes. "You are good to come down here to say good-bye--and howdy do,
for that matter. We're almost strangers again."
"I did not come down to say good-bye," she said, her lips trembling ever
so slightly.
"I don't understand," he said.
"I am going with you into the town--as a witness," she said, and her
face went pale at the thought of it. He drew back in amazement, staring
at her as though he had not heard aright.
"Genevra," he cried, "you--you would do _that_?"
"Why not, Mr. Chase?" She tried to speak calmly, but she was trembling.
After all, she was a slender, helpless girl--not an Amazon! "I saw and
heard everything. They won't believe you unsupported. They won't harm
me. They will treat me as they treat you. I have as much right to be
heard against him as you. If I swear to them that what you say is true
they----"
Her hand was on his arm now, trembling, eager, yet charged with fear at
the prospect ahead of her. He clasped the little hand in his and quickly
lifted it to his lips.
"I'm happy again," he cried. "It's all right with me now." She withdrew
her hand on the instant.
"No, no! It isn't that," she said, her eyes narrowing. "Don't
misinterpret my coming here to say that I will go. It isn't because--no,
it isn't that!"
He hesitated an instant, looking deep into the bewildered eyes that met
his with all the honesty that dwelt in her soul. He saw that she trusted
him to be fair with her.
"I was unhappy because you had forsaken me," he said gently. "You are
brave--you are wonderful! But I can't take you down there. I know what
will happen if they find him guilty. Good-bye, dear one. I'll come
back--surely I'll come back. Thank you for sending me away happy."
"Won't you let me go with you?" she asked, after a long, penetrating
look into his eyes.
"I would not take you among them for all the world. You forget. Neither
of us would come back."
"Neither of us?" she said slowly.
"I wouldn't come back without you," he said quietly, earnestly. She
understood. "Good-bye! Don't worry about me. I am in no danger."
"Good-bye," she said, the princess once more. "I shall pray for
you--with all my soul." She gave him her hand. It was cold and lifeless.
He pressed it warmly and went quickly away, leaving her standing there
in the still shade of the satinwoods, looking after him with eyes that
grew wider and wider with the tears that welled up from behind.
Hours went by--slow, tortuous hours in which the souls of those who
watched and waited for his return were tried to the utmost. A restless,
uncanny feeling prevailed: as if they were prisoners waiting in dead
silence for the sickening news that the trap on the scaffold had been
dropped with all that was living of a fellow-cellmate, whom they had
known and pitied for weeks.
Once there came to the ears of the watchers on the mountainside the
sound of distant shouts, later, the brief rattle of firearms. The blood
of every one turned cold with, apprehension; every voice was stilled,
every eye wide with dread. Neenah screamed as she fled across the
terrace toward the drawbridge, where Selim stood as motionless as a
statue.
Luncheon-time passed, and again, as if drawn by a magnet, the entire
household made its way to the front of the château.
At last Selim uttered a shout of joy. He forgot the deference due his
betters and unceremoniously dashed off toward the gates, followed by
Neenah, who seemed possessed of wings.
Chase was returning!
They saw him coming up the drive, his hat in his hand, his white
umbrella raised above his head. He drew nearer, sauntering as carelessly
as if nothing unusual lay behind him in the morning hours. The eager,
joyous watchers saw him greet Selim and his fluttering wife; they saw
Selim fall upon his knees, and they felt the tears rushing to their own
eyes.
"Hurray!" shouted little Mr. Saunders in his excitement. Bowles and the
three clerks joined him in the exhibition. Then the Persians and the
Turks and the Arabs began to chatter; the servants, always cold and
morose, revealed signs of unusual emotion; the white people laughed as
if suddenly delivered from extreme pain. The Princess was conscious of
the fact that at least five or six pairs of eyes were watching her face.
She closed her lips and compelled her eyelids to obey the dictates of a
resentful heart: she lowered them until they gave one the impression of
indolent curiosity, even indifference. All the while, her
incomprehensible heart was thumping with a rapture that knew no
allegiance to royal conventions.
A few minutes later he was among them, listening with his cool,
half-satirical smile to their protestations of joy and relief, assailed
by more questions than he could well answer in a day, his every
expression a protest against their contention that he had done a brave
and wonderful thing.
"Nonsense," he said in his most deprecating voice, taking a seat beside
the Princess on the railing and fanning himself lazily with his hat to
the mortification of his body-servant, who waved a huge palm leaf in
vigorous adulation. "It was nothing. Just being a witness, that's all.
You'll find how easy it is when you get back to London and have to
testify in the Skaggs will contest. Tell the truth, that's all." The
Princess was now looking at his brown face with eyes over which she had
lost control. "Oh, by the by," he said, as if struck by a sudden
thought. He turned toward the shady court below, where the eager
refugees from Aratat were congregated. A deep, almost sepulchral tone
came into his voice as he addressed himself to the veiled wives of Jacob
von Blitz. "It is my painful duty to announce to the Mesdames von Blitz
that they are widows."
There was a dead silence. The three women stared up at him,
uncomprehending.
"Yes," he went on solemnly, "Jacob is no more. He was found guilty by
his judges and executed with commendable haste and precision. I will say
this for your lamented husband: he met his fate like a man and a
German--without a quiver. He took his medicine bravely--twelve leaden
pills administered by as many skilful surgeons. It is perhaps just as
well for you that you are widows. If he had lived long enough he would
have made a widower of himself." The three wives of Von Blitz hugged
themselves and cried out in their joy! "But it is yet too early to
congratulate yourselves on your freedom. Rasula has promised to kill all
of us, whether we deserve it or not, so I daresay we'd better postpone
the celebration until we're entirely out of the woods."
"They shot him?" demanded Deppingham, when he had finished.
"Admirably. By Jove, those fellows _can_ shoot! They accepted my word
against his--which is most gratifying to my pride. One other man
testified against him--a chap who saw him with the Boers not ten minutes
before the attempt was made to rob the vaults. Rasula appeared as
counsel for the defence. Merely a matter of form. He _knew_ that he was
guilty. There was no talk of a new trial; no appeal to the supreme
court, Britt; no expense to the community."
He was as unconcerned about it as if discussing the most trivial
happening of the day. Five ancient men had sat with the venerable Cadi
as judges in the market-place. There were no frills, no disputes, no
summing up of the case by state or defendant. The judges weighed the
evidence; they used their own judgment as to the law and the penalty.
They found him guilty. Von Blitz lived not ten minutes after sentence
was passed.
"As to their intentions toward us," said Chase, "they are firm in their
determination that no one shall leave the château alive. Rasula was
quite frank with me. He is a cool devil. He calmly notified me that we
will all be dead inside of two weeks. No ships will put in here so long
as the plague exists. It has been cleverly managed. I asked him how we
were to die and he smiled as though he was holding something back as a
surprise for us. He came as near to laughing as I've ever seen him when
I asked him if he'd forgotten my warships. 'Why don't you have them
here?' he asked. 'We're not ready,' said I. 'The six months are not up
for nine days yet.' 'No one will come ashore for you,' he said
pointedly. I told him that he was making a great mistake in the attitude
he was taking toward the heirs, but he coolly informed me that it was
best to eradicate all danger of the plague by destroying the germs, so
to speak. He agreed with me that you have no chance in the courts, but
maintains that you'll keep up the fight as long as you live, so you
might just as well die to suit his convenience. I also made the
interesting discovery that suits have already been brought in England to
break the will on the grounds of insanity."
"But what good will that do us if we are to die here?" exclaimed Bobby
Browne.
"None whatsoever," said Chase calmly. "You must admit, however, that you
exhibited signs of hereditary insanity by coming here in the first
place. I'm beginning to believe that there's a streak of it in my
family, too."
"And you--you saw him killed?" asked the Princess in an awed voice, low
and full of horror.
"Yes. I could not avoid it."
"They killed him on your--on your--" she could not complete the
sentence, but shuddered expressively.
"Yes. He deserved death, Princess. I am more or less like the Moslem in
one respect. I might excuse a thief or a murderer, but I have no pity
for a traitor."
"You saw him killed," she said in the same awed voice, involuntarily
drawing away from him.
"Yes," he said, "and you would have seen him killed, too, if you had
gone down with me to appear against him."
She looked up quickly and then thanked him, almost in a whisper.