_Leo and Sonia determine to steal a motor-car but fall into an
unexpected trap_
Never before had Leo found the avenue between the Copper House and
Karka gates so interminably long. Sometimes it seemed as wide as a
boulevard, at others no broader than a woodland path, where he kept on
bumping into the trees, and grazing his hands. The rain, which blew in
diagonal lines across their path, or fell upon their heads in heavy
drops from the thick foliage, drenched, but did not cool him; hot and
breathless, he stumbled continually, and at last stood still, perfectly
bewildered.
"Wait!" he panted to the young girl. "It has never taken me more than
six minutes to walk down this avenue, but to-night it seems by some
sort of black magic to be five times longer than usual. If one could at
least see one's own nose!"
"Hush!" whispered Sonia. "We are somewhere near the lodge; I fancied I
saw a light...."
Leo started nervously.
"Is there someone behind us?" he exclaimed, trying to peer between
the trees. But he could no longer see even the lights on the terrace,
and came to the conclusion that they must somehow have traversed the
entire length of the avenue.
"No, it's nobody," said the girl, after listening for a minute; "they
are too busy now with Ortiz' arrival."
"Ortiz! don't speak of him, I am scared to death when I think of his
face: supposing he comes after us!"
"No, no," said the girl, catching hold of his coat. "Never mind Ortiz
now! Look, isn't that a light over there?"
They went on through the trees; a flash of lightning flickered through
the darkness, but its momentary glimmer was not sufficient to show them
their exact whereabouts; it was succeeded by a brief peal of thunder,
echoing among the surrounding hills. Leo could see nothing of the light
which the girl had noticed.
"Yes, yes!" she insisted; "it was just as though somebody was lighting
a pipe--ah, there it is again!"
This time they really saw a faint glow, which threw an intermittent
light upon a brutal face, wreathed in smoke, whilst a burning match
ricochetted through the air and went out. Leo recognized the face of
the gate-keeper Tugan, who had fired at him on his first arrival at the
Copper House.
They heard him grumbling to himself, and suddenly a light flared
out again: the man had opened a dark-lantern, and was flashing it
suspiciously first on one side, then on the other, but without
discovering the fugitives, who had taken cover behind the trunk of a
large tree. After some minutes the light vanished, and they thought
they heard steps moving away. Meanwhile, the temporary illumination had
shown them where they were: the lodge was not more than twenty paces
away from them, and twenty paces further on to the right, they could
make out the bars of the gates. The gate-keeper seemed to be the only
human being about.
"He has gone," whispered Sonia. "He went out of the gate."
"No," returned Leo, "he went inside: I heard a door shut."
"Impossible, for we should see a light in the window."
"Not necessarily; he would be on the look-out."
They wrangled obstinately, though in subdued tones, assured that the
rain and the wind were sufficient to cover any sound they might make.
"Let us wait a few seconds, and we shall know for certain"; Leo
proposed finally; "I don't feel quite comfortable about it; the old fox
may be lying in wait."
They stood so close together, sheltering as best they could from the
rain, that the girl's soft hair brushed his face, and he could feel the
vibration of her hurried breathing. She was evidently strung-up to a
high pitch of excitement, and her agitation communicated itself to him,
making him feel strengthless and confused.
"Sonia," said he, taking her hand, "I may call you Sonia, mayn't I?
Your fingers are like ice, are you very frightened? Things have gone
rather well, so far."
"No," she answered in a low tone, not withdrawing her hand; "I am not
frightened...."
He ventured to squeeze the little hand.
"You'll see, if once we can get safely out of this, it will be all
right. We shall manage to outwit the lot of them, Ortiz and his
myrmidons; he shan't hurt your people, and to-morrow a happier future
will dawn...."
"There can be no future for me," she burst out mournfully, "unless,
unless...."
"Yes, unless what? Tell me."
"Unless Sergius is saved. He runs the greatest risk of all, and if he
dies...."
She broke off with a sob, and the sound struck Leo like a blow.
"Yes, of course, Sergius," he murmured. "Oh, that'll be all right.
Sergius shan't be taken from you."
In spite of his brave words he was conscious of a feeling of exhaustion
and disappointment, as he realized that he had been fixing his hopes on
something that was quite out of his reach ... no, it was best as it
was ... Sergius! So all her anxiety was for him. Ah well, perhaps it
was the most suitable....
He pulled himself together.
"Come along!" he encouraged her; "let's go ahead to rescue Sergius."
They went up to the lodge, and tried to look in through the window.
"He isn't there," whispered the girl.
"No, so it seems," muttered Leo; "but which way did he go?"
"That doesn't matter, we needn't bother about him," she returned
impatiently. "Don't you remember that the telephone is here? We must
telephone for help."
"Yes, you are right, let us do so at once."
They skirted the wall, and approached the door. Leo turned the handle,
found the door unfastened, and entered.
Something whizzed past him with an ominous sound, and struck the
door-post with a crack: it was a knife.
"Ha!" cried the young man, "is that your game, you sneaking brute!"
The burly form of the gate-keeper loomed dimly just inside the door,
and Leo flung himself unhesitatingly upon him, for he knew that it was
a matter of life or death. His enemy seized him in a bear's hug, but he
wriggled out of it, and planted his fist squarely in the center of the
brutal face. The fellow reeled backwards, slipped his right hand behind
him, and raised the butt of his gun over his head, with a furious
bellow.
"Oh no, I have had enough of that gun of yours," said Leo; "I owe you
something for yesterday. Tit for tat, you know. Now then, come on and
get it! And there's another: and just one more!"
Tugan had counted too much on his brute strength; the young man's
powerful onrush gave him no chance of inflicting his intended
death-blow with the clubbed rifle; a smashing blow on the point of the
chin knocked him off his feet, he fell backwards over chairs and table
with a crash, and lay motionless.
Leo groped for the matches, and a tiny, flickering flame lighted up the
room. Tugan was stunned, and lay like a pole-axed steer on the floor;
Sonia stared at him in alarm.
"Is he dead?" she whispered.
"No, he will soon come to."
With a certain satisfaction, Leo reflected that he must now have
regained the prestige which he had lost in her eyes by his sham fight
with the Austrian. The match went out, but he struck another, and
lighted a candle which stood on the table. The telephone became visible
on the wall near the door, and a thrill of triumph went through him, as
he picked up the receiver. At last he had succeeded! In another minute
their plight would be made known to the outside world, and help would
be forthcoming.
"Hallo!" he shouted impatiently: "hallo! Now then, Exchange! Can't you
answer? Are you all asleep there? Hallo, hallo!"
Sonia gave a cry and pointed to the wall.
"Look! the wires are cut! The telephone is useless!"
Leo saw that she was right: the cut wires were dangling down. With an
exclamation of dismay, he flung away the receiver.
"It is dreadful," faltered Sonia; "it shows that they have no further
need of it; they just want to secure themselves against being
surprised. We are lost!"
"Not yet," muttered Leo, "not yet."
He extinguished the candle, and they hurried out again into the rain,
which had come on more heavily. They looked around them, and Leo said:
"We must get out through the gates."
"It's the only way," she agreed, but broke off. "Oh, look, look!
They're coming!" she whispered.
Leo glanced instinctively up the avenue. Far back amongst the great
trees, lights began to be reflected in the puddles, and to throw
fantastic, leaping shadows on the path. There seemed to be four or five
lanterns, and their rapid movements showed that the men who carried
them were running.
Without a word, Leo made for the gates; they were just ajar, and
creaked horribly as they were pushed open to let the fugitives through.
Out on the high-road they could hear voices inside the park, giving
the alarm. In the middle of the road, eight or ten steps away, stood a
large car, quivering with the throbbing of its engine. Two fugitives in
wet coats were crouching under the hood, but they sprang out, and their
black shadows were clearly defined against the beams of the headlights.
"We must have this," said Leo, and he rushed forward ready to throw the
two figures into the mud. He immediately recognized one of them to be
Marcus Tassler; the other was, presumably, the chauffeur. The young man
"saw red," and he cried:
"Ah, here is our excellent friend, our benefactor, the honest merchant!
So you persist in hanging about here, sir! I suppose you carry about
the mortgages in your pocket, to make quite sure that I am not running
off with the securities for your cash. Come along, old boy!--you fat
little Nebuchadnezzar!--just come along, and I'll reckon up what I owe
you!"
He advanced threateningly, and, with a bound, Tassler placed himself in
safety on the other side of the car.
"The fellow is mad!" he yelled. "Shoot him! Knock him down!"
The chauffeur threw himself between them, with a spanner in his gloved
hand. He was a little bit of a man, and Leo put both arms around his
waist, lifted him up, in spite of his frantic struggles, and flung him
across the road, where he disappeared with a splash. Tassler continued
to shout and threaten from the further side of the car.
"Easy there, old boy!" said Leo. "I haven't time...."
Sonia had already clambered into the car, and he followed her. He threw
himself down behind the wheel, and grasped it as eagerly as though it
had been a life-buoy. It was a pleasant surprise to find that the car
was a "Mercedes," such as he had frequently driven in California. He
cast one more look through the gates, towards the avenue: the dancing
lights had almost caught them up. He touched the starting-gear with
a light and practiced hand, and the car began to purr gently, gave a
slight jerk, and rolled forward, as the tires took a grip of the wet
surface of the road.
Tassler tore open his coat, snatched out a little nickelled revolver,
and--piff, piff!--a couple of bullets whizzed past them. "Bang!" a
rifle replied from the avenue. The young man laughed aloud. Sonia
looked at him with surprise, and with renewed interest: he seemed
transformed. The fighting blood of the Graths had for a few short
moments wakened into life in this last effeminate scion of the race. At
that minute he would have marched up to a battery of machine-guns: his
eyes sparkled, and his long, "artistic" hair seemed to stand out round
his head like a halo. The car shot away, its fifty horse-power obedient
to the touch of his hand: they were off on the road to freedom. The
dazzling headlights illuminated the darkness for ten yards ahead of
them, and made the wet road shine like polished marble. The trees
bordering the road stood motionless, their boughs heavy with moisture.
And still the rain streamed and splashed down on them, in a tepid,
unceasing shower-bath: it gurgled in the ditches, and drummed on the
glass wind-screen of the car.
"Au revoir, Marcus!" Leo shouted over his shoulder. His voice was
drowned in a peal of thunder, but the girl clapped her hands.
"That's splendid!" she exclaimed delightedly. "They can't catch us!
Where will you drive to?"
"First of all to the nearest usable telephone," he replied. "And
then--well, I hope there may be some sort of police-station in this
neighborhood, otherwise we must make straight for Stockholm; it's all
plain sailing now."
"Do you know the way?"
"Don't I just! Like the inside of my pocket!"
His self-confidence had gone up a hundred per cent., since he got his
hands on the steering-wheel. He let out the car to its fullest extent,
murmuring:
"Good old Mercedes!--it's up to you, now! Show what you can do!"
And almost at the same instant, as the car obeyed him, and shot out
at full speed, with the dizzying rush of a torpedo--at that instant
the catastrophe was upon them! Their triumph was changed into bitter
disappointment, and now they understood why so few shots had been sent
after them; it was not freedom, but a murderous trap that awaited them.
"The wretches!" cried Leo. "They mean to murder us!"
Across the road in front of them, they caught sight of a network
of slender, gleaming, sharp-edged threads; they were steel wires,
stretched like a barbed-wire entanglement from side to side. At the
speed at which they were going, every one of these wires must meet
them like a sword-blade: it was impossible to evade them, they were
everywhere.
The steering-wheel spun round between the young man's
convulsively-working fingers; the car leaped from the track, swung
round on two wheels, gave a terrific lurch, and ran in under the trees
to a distance of several feet. The whole dead-weight of the ponderous
machine was flung crashing into the ditch. Leo was shot through the
air, and fell with outspread arms, and a sickening thud, deep into a
soft, water-logged swamp. He rolled over, felt the water spurt up under
his arms, and struggled to his knees. Both the lamps of the car had
been smashed, and impenetrable darkness surrounded him. Dizzy with the
shock, he felt as though he were still falling, and, faint with terror,
he managed to catch hold of a branch. At length his head cleared, and
he remembered his companion; what had become of her?
"Sonia!" he called anxiously; "Sonia!"
He scrambled to his feet. A sharp pain in his left shoulder showed
him that he had not escaped unhurt, but for the minute that seemed of
little consequence.
"Sonia, Sonia, where are you?"
"Here!" answered a faint voice.
He took a few steps, and ran into her; she was on her feet, leaning
against the trunk of a tree, and trying to bandage her right hand with
her handkerchief.
"Are you hurt?" he asked. "Can you walk?"
"Yes," she replied; "it's only a scratch. What about you?"
"Nothing to speak of."
"Let's go on," she murmured, but tottered as she spoke, and fell into
his arms. "My head is a little giddy--never mind me--go...."
He saw that she was on the point of fainting, lifted her up, and
carried her down to the road.
"Put me down," she said in a weak voice: "I can walk; we must hurry."
The lights from the gates were already quite near; they came on like a
swarm of flying gnats, and running footsteps splashed along the road.
At the sight of the wrecked car, a great shout of savage laughter was
raised, and a voice called out:
"Stay there, you two, or I shall shoot!"
They were surrounded, and rough hands caught hold of them. Marcus
Tassler's breathless voice panted in the background:
"Keep a sharp look-out on them, and take them with you to the Copper
House. That was a very short drive, wasn't it, my young friends! You
haven't much fight left in you, have you?"
He came up, laughing and rubbing his hands. Leo's excitement had died
away, his muscles relaxed, and he realized that he was beaten. Fate was
against them. Without a word, he and the young girl walked back side
by side to the gates, surrounded by eight or ten men who hustled them
along with coarse jests. They were prisoners once more. As Leo took a
last glance in the direction where their lost freedom awaited them, he
saw a little bright light shine out and twinkle, a long way off. It
seemed to come from one of the hills to the left of the road, about a
mile or so away, and was probably a signal. He wondered idly what it
meant, and took it for granted that it was exchanged between some of
Rastakov's men, but turned listlessly into the avenue, too worn-out
to think. He didn't care what happened now: he had done his best--and
failed!
Yet when he remembered Gabriel Ortiz, whose face he had already seen
for one terrifying moment, he shuddered. The girl murmured softly:
"Ortiz is waiting for us!"