AN OMINOUS VISIT
At the inn Strode was waiting for me in some impatience, if not alarm,
fearing foul play, from the delay in my return. After dinner we lit our
cigars and strolled out. Then I told him the whole story, which indoors
I had dared only hint at. I should have taken him into my confidence
anyhow, situated as I was, and feeling quite certain of his staunchness
and grit; but, beyond that, I had come to the conclusion that his
help would be absolutely necessary in the next night's most hazardous
undertaking. This he readily promised, as I felt sure he would, and
even with more alacrity than could have been counted on.
"I shall simply revel in being your comrade in this affair, or humble
servant, if you like," he said heartily. "I'm sick of hanging and
mooning about, taking pot-shots at birds and vermin, with an occasional
wink at a stupid grinning peasant girl. Ah, my dear fellow, I've
been in the swim, and know what it is; slow enough, Heaven knows, at
the best; I've gone under through my own folly, and if you knew what
the feeling is, the sense of failure and degradation, you wouldn't
wonder that the excitement of a business like this is like brandy to a
knocked-out man. I was thinking I'd have soon to get up a shine on my
own account, but this will suit me far better; we have the merit of a
decent action at our backs and are not a pair of idiots joining in a
scrimmage out of sheer devilry. Why, hang it! man, there's a touch of
the old-time chivalry about the racket, with brainwork thrown in. Yes;
I'm your man, to see you through this little frolic, and be thankful
for the chance."
We talked over the plan I had laid and the necessary preparations. The
delay kept me in a disagreeable state of chafing and suspense, but we
both voted it to be unavoidable. To have any chance of success, the
attempt had to be made by night, and that night it was impracticable.
Our walk had taken us near the entrance to the tunnel.
"I don't know what it is," I said, "but now the way is found, I feel I
cannot keep from that poor girl's prison."
"You are going through?" Strode asked. "Will you let me come with you?
I may as well get the hang of the place."
With the half-formed intention, I had provided myself with a supply of
light. We let ourselves down into the passage and set forward towards
the Monastery, scarcely purposing, perhaps, to reach the other end. But
we groped on and on, Strode often making me smile by his characteristic
comments and ejaculations. Neither of us suggested turning back, until
some twenty minutes' uneasy progress brought us to the steps leading to
the trap-door. Here we stayed awhile.
"So we are actually within the walls of that cursed den of iniquity,
are we?" Strode observed. "Look here! We've got our revolvers; I'm
game, if you are, to carry the place by surprise and hurry these
hellish Johnnies to the warm quarters that are waiting for them."
I knew that was sheer madness, so checked his ardour. At the same time,
however, this dare-devil ally of mine gave me a very pleasant feeling
of confidence.
"Before we return," I said, "I have a good mind to run up and see that
all is yet well. It is worth while as we are so near."
Strode laughed and nodded sagaciously. "All right, mein Herr. Can't
say I see the utility of the move since you don't fall in with my
suggestion, but then probably utility is not altogether your motive.
I'll wait for you here. Don't make a fool of yourself, that's all."
I was already up the steps, and in a few seconds had passed through
the trap-door. It was pitch dark, but the way was familiar now, and I
found the passage without difficulty. If I expected to see the light
at the farther end I was disappointed; all was dark. I groped my way
along on tip-toe till the wall against my hand came to an end at the
entrance of the room into which the prison window looked. All was dark
here too. I crept to the window but could see nothing, hear nothing.
If there had been a light in the room some indication would have been
visible, even though the curtain were carefully drawn across the
window. No. I was satisfied that the room was in darkness. And yet it
was almost too early for the prisoner to have retired for the night.
The darkness and silence might mean nothing, and yet they filled me
with a horribly uncomfortable surmise. I stood for a while in a state
of indecision. But I could not bring myself to turn back in that spirit
of uncertainty. I was committed to the business, my whole heart and
soul were in it now, and the risk was nothing to me. The idea that I
had that afternoon perhaps missed a chance, even if ever so desperate,
of rescuing the prisoner maddened me. Of course all might be well and
my anxiety groundless, but looking at the situation as calmly as I
could it was impossible, knowing Furello and his creatures, not to fear.
With no exact purpose except to look about for what chance might
show me, I made my way from the room and proceeded to explore the
long passage further. It was an utterly rash and foolish move, but
the impulse was strong upon me, and the very stillness of the place
led me on. I ventured now to strike a light which showed me a distant
door, towards which I hastened. Contrary to my expectations it was
unlocked. I passed through it quietly; still all was darkness, and the
same oppressive silence. Another lighted match showed me I was in a
large basement room with a flagged floor, green with disuse. A door was
opposite; I crossed and opened it. Darkness still. But another match
revealed a flight of steps. I crept up and passed through yet another
door. Then, by the aid of my light, I recognized my whereabouts. I was
in a kind of inner courtyard on which I had lighted in my search the
night before. To find my way to the great hall was now an easy matter,
though risky enough.
Arrived there, I stood awhile and listened. The same death-like
stillness pervaded the place. What light from without penetrated
through the high, dark coloured windows was just enough to show me
indistinctly the objects around. I took out my revolver and crept to
the stairs, then suddenly I stopped, hearing voices. Men's voices,
indistinct, and at some distance. I turned aside, drawing stealthily,
yard by yard, nearer to the sound. I dared not waste time, fearing
what rash thing Strode might do if I stayed too long. The hangings
on the walls helped me now as they had done before; a man could,
with care, move along behind them without much fear of detection. A
little farther on I seemed quite close to the voices, and recognized
the Count's; but the direction from which it came puzzled me, until
I discovered a kind of grating or loophole in the door of the room
from which the sound proceeded. I was preparing to look through, when
suddenly I started, thunderstruck. The Count's voice had ceased and
another replied, a voice which I knew at once, the most dreaded in that
kingdom--Rallenstein's. As I recovered from the momentary shock of
something more than surprise, I looked through the grating. Yes; there
he was, the terrible Chancellor, sitting back in a great easy chair,
at his side a small table with wine and fruit, and before him Furello,
standing with hands clasped behind him, the fingers, as I noticed, for
his back was towards me, working as with passion or strong excitement.
If the Count's face (which I could not see) was ruffled, the
Chancellor's was as impassive and inscrutable as ever.
"You will hardly persuade me, my dear Count," he was saying in that
smooth masked voice which I knew so well, "that you have blundered
through stupidity. You are no fool--or you would not be here--at all."
The sinister significance with which he spoke the last words was
indescribable. "And," he went on, "I tell you frankly, I am far from
satisfied."
Furello drew himself up and spoke more quietly now. "In matters of this
sort at least I am not fool enough to look for explicit instructions.
Your Excellency has been accustomed to convey your wishes in hints.
Acting on them I have done your work faithfully. There are words better
left unsaid, wishes better----"
"Pfui, Count!" Rallenstein interrupted with a wave of the hand. "You
are trifling. You should know well enough what my real instructions
were. I told you expressly the girl might be wanted. That it might be
necessary to produce her."
"At that time. But the time is past. Surely it was inconceivable that
you really wished her kept alive. Who could have foreseen what you have
just told me, the secret marriage of Prince Theodor?"
"That is all no business of yours," the Chancellor returned, with
a momentary lapse from his usual bland manner to a sneer that was
almost brutal. "When I saved your neck from the gallows-rope, it was
on the understanding that you should yield me implicit obedience,
that the life I gave you was to do my will. You are not required to
think for yourself, and you had best beware how you take upon yourself
to do so. Let me remind you that that rope with the ugly knot in it
still dangles. Enough! I do not trouble to concern myself with your
motives--oh, do not protest"--for the other had made a deprecating
gesture--"I am no fool either, and know men do not thwart my will for
nothing--for nothing. So! And the girl is dead. She _is_ dead?"
Such a searching look, so fierce, so threatening, so piercing, that I
wondered how the Count had nerve to answer quietly. "Three days ago."
"Ha! And buried--where?"
"In the wood, by the grave of Herr Pfarrer Gerrsdorff. If your
Excellency wishes to be satisfied----"
"I am satisfied, mein Graf," Rallenstein said sharply, "that you have
played me a knavish trick; and I know not yet that it has been with
impunity. Recollect that an unnecessary crime is the worst of blunders."
"Not so unnecessary, Excellency," the Count protested as the other
tossed off a glass of wine as dismissing the subject. "One of my
reasons for the haste by which I regret to have offended you was that
our meddling Englishman has been here."
Rallenstein nodded. "I know it. Now there, my dear Count----"
There was significance enough in the aposiopesis to make me shudder.
The Count laughed; he was evidently beginning to feel easier.
"We made a good attempt," he replied grimly. "But the fellow wriggled
out of our hands somehow. Bleisst says he must be own brother to the
devil himself."
The conversation, if flattering, had become less momentous. I had heard
enough; and the thought of Strode urged me to retreat while I could
do so with safety. I slipped back to the inner hall, and thence found
my way to the entrance of the long passage. As I was hurrying along
this, I suddenly came into collision with some one, and next instant
was seized very prettily by the throat. Luckily the pressure left just
room enough to allow me to get out the word "Strode!" when to my double
relief the fingers relaxed, and the Englishman's voice said:
"A million apologies, my dear fellow, only I had to make sure. I was
coming after you, as the love-scene appeared to have lasted long
enough. Hope I haven't hurt you?"
It was no place for conversation, and it was not until we were safely
through the trap-door that I stayed to tell what I had heard.
"You don't think the girl has come to any harm?" Strode inquired as we
began to grope our way outwards.
"I have my fears about it. If this visit of Rallenstein's has taken the
Count by surprise, there is no telling to what extremities panic may
have driven him. On the other hand, he may simply have hidden her away
more securely. He said she had been murdered three days ago."
"The black scoundrel!"
"Whereas, we know she was alive this afternoon. I have hope there."
"And that is the most likely thing to have happened. I'd stake my life
on hers up to now. Only there is no time to be lost, if we have to take
this devil's den by assault to-morrow."
"Let's hope force won't be necessary," I said. "It would be simple
madness, however justifiable. Much will depend on the length of
Rallenstein's stay."
"That won't be long," Strode replied confidently. "Put yourself in the
old Jaguar's place and ask yourself how long you'd feel inclined to
stay in that rural Chamber of Horrors."
So discussing the chances of the situation, we at length reached the
entrance, and without further incident returned to our inn.