THE PRIEST
Tanya was again called at daylight and after an excellent breakfast they
were on their way, Tanya afoot, until they neared the high road when she
coolly bade good-bye to Herr Hochwald and without further words entered
her prison to be driven all morning steadily towards Weingarten.
"He has gone on," reported Herr Markov after a while.
"That is well. But we must not trust him," she replied, "until we are
safe upon the other border of the lake."
"Will you forgive me, Fraeulein?" asked Markov.
She raised the lid of her queer carriage and thrust out her hand toward
him. "With all my heart, my friend," and then: "Do you think he has any
idea of what we carry?"
"I don't Know, but he shall not take it."
"You are armed?"
"Yes. He must keep away from us. Late tonight we will be at the
Zweisler Waldhaus near Weingarten. There I am well known--among old
friends--you shall see."
"Do you think there will be a message from Munich?" she questioned
anxiously.
"I hope so. That we received none at Memmingen was an indication only
that all is well with Herr Rowland."
"I pray that may be true," she said earnestly.
A wagon was coming along the road in front of them and so Tanya lowered
the lid quickly and was silent.
Herr Hochwald did not approach them all that day. Markov reported his
figure in the distance two or three times but it was not until dusk when
the lights of Weingarten leaped into view before them that they came
upon him suddenly at a turn in the road waiting for them.
"A long day," he muttered. "I am weary. Where do you go tonight?"
Markov halted Fra Umberto and throwing the reins over the donkey's back
strode forward determinedly.
"We will come to an agreement here and now, Herr Hochwald," he said with
grim politeness. "Our ways hare parted--yonder. The night is
fine--your robe heavy. You will sleep quite comfortably under the
stars. As for us--whither we go is no concern of yours. Is it
understood?"
Hochwald looked up at the tall figure for a moment, then shrugged.
"As you please. Drive on, Herr Musician."
Markov examined the man a moment in silence, and then obeyed, but as
they approached Weingarten Herr Markov reported the dark figure a
threatening shade in the gloom following at a distance behind them.
But they reached the Waldhaus without further incident. It was an inn,
built in a much earlier day, at some distance from the high road and
situated at the edge of a thick forest of well-grown pine trees. The
proprietor was a compatriot of Herr Markov's, a small man with an
expansive smile and a huge paunch upon which the privations of the war
had made little impression. When Fra Umberto had been put into a stable
and the packages of notes brought into the house and safely hidden in a
room up-stairs, Tanya and Markov breathed more freely, for though
nothing had been seen of the black cassock of Herr Hochwald for an hour
or more, Tanya knew that he could not be far away.
When all their arrangements for the night had been completed, Markov
despatched Herr Zweisler to the telegraph office for messages for Herr
Liedenthal, the name that he and Rowland had agreed upon when they had
arranged their code.
It was midnight before Herr Zweisler returned but he brought the
message, which Markov and Tanya eagerly deciphered by the light of the
kitchen lamp.
In English it would have read somewhat as follows:
"Three beds at twenty marks, seven chairs at three marks, two
washstands, one bureau, forty-one marks, all used but in good condition,
bought to-day Munich and will be shipped by Weingarten to Lindenhof when
railway facilities permit."
Decoded, this meant: "Pursuit. Leave donkey Weingarten. Am coming
Lindenhof."
The hay-cart creaked up hill and down dale all the long night. From
time to time Tanya, lying comfortably in concealment, slept uneasily and
in her waking moments peered out over the tail board along the gray
stretch of road where she had last seen the figure of the monk, a dark
blot on the velvety night. Once he had come quite near until he walked
only a few paces behind the cart, but Markov had warned him away and at
last he had sullenly obeyed. For an hour or more now they had lost
sight of him, but with the coming of the dawn, they saw in the distance
a market cart like their own and upon its seat with the driver, the
figure in black. Herr Hochwald was tireless and persistent.
The message from Rowland had been alarming. "Pursuit!" That meant
immediate discovery unless they deserted Fra Umberto and the
hurdy-gurdy. It meant discovery perhaps even there at the Waldhaus of
the hospitable Herr Zweisler, if any agents of the police had noticed
them traveling that day toward Weingarten. The rest of the message was
explicit. "Leave donkey Weingarten--Am coming Lindenhof." There was
nothing to do, weary as they were, but obey. And so negotiating at once
with a neighbor of the inn-keeper, they had managed for a proper
consideration to hire the hay-cart in which they were now approaching
their destination. Beneath the hay in an old bag that Herr Zweisler had
provided were the bank notes of Nemi.
No one had bothered them, at least no one but the threatening figure of
the false monk, and Markov seemed fairly confident of dealing with that
gentleman when the time came. The owner of their cart was a country
lout, too stupid to ask questions, content with a small bundle of
five-mark notes which were the excellent compensation for the use of his
cart, which was to be returned in a few days.
But as the gray dawn spread over the heavens and from the high hill over
which their long road wound, Tanya could see in the distance far below
her the pale mist rising from the lake. She had for the first time a
feeling that success was within her reach. To hire a boat to sail
across to the Swiss shore seemed simplicity itself, for at Arbon or
Romanshorn, she would throw herself and her possessions upon the
protection of the Swiss authorities until a wire to Shestov or Barthou
would bring them to identify her and reclaim the property of the Society
of Nemi. But success without the safety of Philippe Rowland was not to
be thought of. "Am coming Lindenhof," he had wired. But how? When?
The fact of his coming through from Munich by train, covering in a few
short hours the distance that she and Herr Markov had taken four weary
days to travel, seemed almost unbelievable. And yet Herr Markov was
hopeful. He had great confidence in the ingenuity of Herr Rowland and
the message had been explicit. "Am coming Lindenhof." And since the
code messages had been filed at the Haupt Bahnhof before eleven o'clock
last night, Herr Rowland had planned in some way to take the night train
from Munich which would reach Lindau in the early morning. The
reasoning was sound--too obvious indeed to Tanya, who knew that the
excellent Herr Markov could do no less than encourage her in the belief
that all would go well. She knew that already Philippe had succeeded in
accomplishing the impossible by the very spontaneity of his daring, but
to travel openly upon a train from Munich bound for the Swiss border
could be nothing less in Tanya's eyes than the wildest desperation which
only courted the death he had so far miraculously escaped. She feared
for him now--more than ever and regretted painfully, as she had already
done many times upon her journey, that she had consented to leave him in
danger in Munich, while she had gone on in comparative safety with Herr
Markov. And yet success seemed so near. The Swiss shore came out of
the mists like a pleasant mirage of a sought for oasis to the thirsty in
the desert. An hour more to Lindenhof, an hour upon the water
and--safety!
But not without Philippe! As to that she was resolved. The very
imminence of their meeting, the chances of failure, the danger of arrest
for them all, the joyous meaning of success--all these possibilities
conflicting in the turmoil of her thoughts, had tried her endurance to
its limit, and her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. But the
patient face of Herr Markov was her inspiration. He merely smiled at
her calmly and bade her have courage, for he knew that she would still
have need of it.
As they approached Lindau the market-cart in which Herr Hochwald rode,
drew nearer and Tanya saw him descend and hurry forward to overtake
them. Herr Markov stopped the hay-cart and got down upon the ground.
"I've warned you, Herr Hochwald," he said coolly, "that I will have no
interference with the affairs of the Fraeulein. We offer no impediment
to your escape. Go your ways, but leave us in peace."
Hochwald smiled at Tanya who was sitting upright, listening.
"Have I not avoided you?"
"We shall do better alone. Do you go on, Herr Hochwald--or shall we?"
"With your permission we will wait a moment and discuss the matter.
Just beyond the hill ahead of us is Bodolz. It is a town upon the
railroad and there we will find officials, telegraph officers and
soldiers from the Lindau Kaserne who keep guard."
"And what of that. My word against yours. Prison for us all----"
"Perhaps. But not if you act the part of wisdom."
"What do you want?"
"Merely to accompany you across the lake----"
"Impossible----"
"It is very little that I ask of you. Think a moment. Suppose that I
should reveal the real meaning of your journey, the actual value of the
truck load you haul to market----!"
Markov and Tanya exchanged helpless glances. He knew--had known all the
while.
"You see," continued Hochwald easily, "we have indeed come to the
parting of the ways. Beyond Bodolz--safety, if I go with you. Refuse
me now, Herr Markov, and you will never pass the Bahnhof."
"And when I denounce you----"
Hochwald laughed.
"I shall merely say that I am an agent of the Government who has
followed you here from Munich. They may arrest me but His Excellency
will forgive me much if I bring him this excellent proof of my fealty."
He paused with a shrug and turned to Tanya. "If the Fraeulein will
deign to advise--Herr Markov is somewhat undetermined."
With a sinking heart Tanya assented, crawling back miserably under the
hay. Herr Markov climbed up to his seat and they drove on, Hochwald
following boldly some paces in the rear.
At Bodolz, a soldier stood in the middle of the road. And even while
Herr Markov was wondering what he should say to him, Herr Hochwald
strode forward toward a corporal who stood leaning against the railroad
gate smoking a pipe.
"Fodder and farm produce for the abbey at Enzisweiler," he said soberly.
"I came up last night."
The soldier nodded, and then inquired, "You've seen nothing of a man
driving a donkey hitched to a piano organ?"
"No--nothing."
"Pass, Father."
Markov drove on, across the railroad tracks down the hill. Was there an
abbey at Enzisweiler? He didn't know, but he couldn't help admiring the
skill with which Herr Hochwald had guided them past a difficulty which
might have proved embarrassing.
Below the hill Markov gathered new courage for familiar landmarks were
all about him, and there on the border of the lake not half a mile away
was their destination.
"I hope that you know where you're going, Herr Markov," said Hochwald
with a laugh.
The words of Markov's reply were inaudible to Tanya, but there was a
world of meaning in his tone. She lay in concealment while the cart
rumbled across more railroad tracks over a rough road and finally came
to a stop. At a word from Markov she emerged from her place of
concealment and sat up looking around her. She was in a quadrangle or
court yard paved with cobbles, the walls and buildings surrounding it in
tumbled ruins. But in front of her upon the margin of the lake was a
tower, once doubtless the keep of this ancient edifice, which still
stood defying the tooth of time and at the present moment showed
definite signs of occupancy, for upon a clothes line beside the handsome
Gothic portal hung a variety of masculine undergarments, like Schloss
Kempelstein itself, in various stages of disrepair. There were
fishing-nets in the sunlight on the small jetty and piles of baskets and
bottles under the protection of a wooden lean-to against a broken wall.
Herr Markov had told Tanya something of Herr Gratz, the eccentric owner
of this domain and so she was not unprepared for his greeting.
He emerged from the Gothic doorway almost immediately, an
unprepossessing creature, in soiled flannel trousers and undershirt. He
had a pointed nose, small eyes deeply set under shaggy gray brows and as
he strode forth from the door peering at his visitors, he seemed far
from hospitable.
"And what do you want?" he began.
"Food, Ludwig," said Markov.
Herr Gratz halted suddenly at the sound of Markov's voice and stared at
him, the ugly shadows in his face lifting magically.
"You, Matthias!"
"The same----"
"But Fra Umberto--and the 'instrument of torture----'"
"Sh----More of that later. For the present--the Fraeulein here is
weary--a long journey----"
"A Fraeulein--and a Priest! Strange companions for Matthias Markov, who
has so long forsworn both." He burst into laughter, a dry cackle which
indicated disuse.
Herr Markov brought forth the bag from beneath the hay and followed
their host into the tower, the lower floor of which served as kitchen
and living room.
"If you will go upstairs, Fraeulein----" said Herr Markov, "I will bring
you food and coffee."
Markov, bag in hand, with the air of a familiar to the premises, already
led the way. Hochwald watched him narrowly for a moment.
"Our agreement holds here, Herr Markov," he flung after him, "as well as
upon the road." Markov chose to treat the remark with silence, but the
millions of Nemi weighed upon him heavily. Though he was not a fighter
by nature, the situation perplexed rather than intimidated him. He knew
that Hochwald was quite capable of carrying out his threat to reveal
their secret to the authorities, and the experience with the guard at
Bodolz had convinced him that the slightest sign of trouble here at
Lindenhof, the firing of shots, the sound of cries which could be heard
upon the highway nearby or upon the lake would mean speedy capture. But
he knew also that Herr Hochwald's other plan to reach Switzerland safely
with the Fraeulein and the money was the one he proposed to carry out
unless Markov could prevent it. Hochwald's own safety hung on silence
too. So long as they remained in Germany Markov, Tanya, and Hochwald
shared a common secret and a common danger, any one of them powerless
without the silence and cooeperation of the other two. A strange
partnership which Markov desired to terminate at the earliest
opportunity. But how? To kill, yes, but he didn't believe in killing
unless in self-defense. This was not his own quarrel, but his honor
demanded the protection of Fraeulein Korasov. He would protect her, but
the Fraeulein was going to make it difficult. She would not embark
until Herr Rowland appeared. Suppose that he didn't come--that something
had happened! It was of this that Tanya spoke when they reached the
upper floor.
"It is eight o'clock, Herr Markov," she said nervously.
"Herr Rowland is doubtless moving cautiously. Do not become alarmed."
"That man.... He frightens me. What do you propose to do?"
"Are you fit to go on?"
"Yes--but not----" She paused and searched his face anxiously. "Do you
think that Herr Rowland could have failed?"
He shrugged.
"How can I tell, Fraeulein," he replied softly.