The noise in the house below ceased with ominous suddenness as I
started to rush down in response to Helga’s cry for help.
What to do with our prisoners embarrassed me for a moment. Every one
of us might be needed below, and my first idea was to leave the men as
they were. But happily I did not do that.
“Ivan, you must come with me. M. Boreski, will you and the servant
watch the men here and try to find some means of securing them?”
“There is plenty of rope in one of the rooms above,” said Ivan to the
servant as we two hurried out.
The landing and stairs were dark, and we found the men we had left on
the landing had clambered over to our side of the improvised barricade,
where they were waiting, revolver in hand, in expectation of an attack
from below.
“It is not safe to go down, my lord,” said one of them. “They are
waiting for us below there.”
“Aren’t the women in danger, you cowards?” I cried angrily, my thoughts
on Helga. “Follow me,” and I sprang over it and ran down.
“Mademoiselle, mademoiselle,” I called as I ran, but no answer came.
Ivan kept by my side, and as we reached the bottom some men sprang
right at us. There were six or seven of them at least, and for a few
moments we were in the thick of a pretty stiff fight. All four of us
were struck several times, and finding it impossible to beat them,
desperately as we fought, we had to retreat, losing one of the two
servants who was made a prisoner.
Ivan fought like a fiend incarnate, kicking, lunging and using the butt
end of his heavy revolver with tremendous effect, and but for him I
should have been made a prisoner. I was surrounded and held by three
of the men when he dashed in, and scattering them with his tremendous
strength, rescued me and dragged me up the stairway.
“To the landing, monsieur,” he said; “our only chance;” and back we had
to go, scrambling headlong up the stairs as best we could; while our
assailants, exasperated at our escape, fired shot after shot after us.
That we were not hit seemed a miracle. The darkness alone can have
saved us, aided no doubt by the excitement which prevented the men
below firing steadily.
We had saved our skins but had failed in what to me was vastly of more
importance--the rescue of Helga and the others; and the failure so
maddened me that for the time I was incapable of consecutive thought. I
was conscious chiefly of a fierce animal desire to wreak my vengeance
upon the cowards who had captured her, and hugged the thought to my
heart that I could certainly kill some of them. In other words I was
for the moment almost out of my mind with baffled rage.
“We must save the mademoiselle, monsieur,” said Ivan at length,
perplexed by my silent inactivity.
“Or avenge her. My God, if anything has happened to her, they shall pay
dearly,” I returned.
“What shall we do next, monsieur?”
That question was soon settled for us, however; for suddenly lights
appeared below and relieved the dead gloom of the landing.
“They are going to attack us,” whispered Ivan.
“We shoot this time and shoot to kill, Ivan,” I said, speaking out
fierce wrath and with a sort of devilish pleasure at the prospect.
But the attack tarried, and while we waited Boreski came out.
“We have secured those three,” he said.
“Bring them out and shoot them,” I answered. “The others have taken
mademoiselle and the Duchess.”
“It will be no good to do that.”
“Bring them out,” I rejoined fiercely; and when he hesitated I added,
“Then I will;” and I went into the room.
“For God’s sake, don’t do murder,” he said, and Ivan followed in.
I paid no heed to the words, and seizing the first man I dragged him
out, bound as he was, and dashed him down on the ground. The mere
recourse to this brutality seemed to give relief to my rage, and I went
in again and brought out another, treating him just as brutally. I was
for the while both bully and coward in my frenzy.
When I got out I found Boreski speaking to some one below. I leaned
forward and tried to see the speaker, and had I been able, I believe I
should have shot him on the spot.
“You know whom we seek,” the man said. “Give him up to us and we will
go.”
“Who are you?” asked Boreski.
“No matter. I speak for those who are with me.”
“Not for all of them,” said I, interposing with an unholy laugh. “We
have three here who would like to speak for themselves. Come up and ask
them why your scheme to fire the house has failed.”
My reply seemed to produce far more effect than the sneer itself
warranted, for we heard the men draw together and speak in low but
excited tones. Suddenly the reason for this flashed upon me. I had
spoken in Russian, and my accent had betrayed me for a foreigner.
[Illustration: “THE SUDDENNESS OF THE ACTION TOLD, AND PERHAPS THE
RECKLESSNESS OF IT HELPED ME.”--_Page 133._]
At last I began to see the way out of it all, and my strange frenzy
rapidly subsided.
“Are you coming, gentlemen?” I cried again. “We can promise you a
merry welcome which will save some of you at least the trouble of
returning. Or do you find it easier to gag women than to face men?” and
I continued to pour in a broadside of sneers and taunts, speaking all
the time in Russian.
“Who is that speaking, Boreski?” came at last in the same gruff deep
voice that had spoken before.
“The man you have been fools enough to mistake for the Emperor,” I
answered with a laugh.
“Boreski, why do you not answer?”
“Tell him the truth, M. Boreski,” said I in a tone loud enough to reach
those below.
“If I tell them, it will turn their vengeance upon you for Vastic’s
death,” he said in a low tone.
“Better upon me than upon mademoiselle,” I replied quickly, in the same
loud tone. “I am not afraid of the truth. Tell them I fooled you as
well.”
“It is not whom you think,” he said.
“Holy Grace of God!” exclaimed the man below.
Realizing the effect which the discovery had produced, and believing
firmly in the eloquence of acts, I obeyed my next impulse, and jumping
over the barricade ran half-way down the stairs and stood where the
light from below shone upon me.
“I will show you for yourselves,” I said.
The suddenness of the action told, and perhaps the recklessness of it
helped me. The men stared up at me as if astounded, and for a moment
not one of them moved. Then two revolvers were raised and levelled.
“Stay,” I cried in a loud voice of command. “If you fire at me it will
be the sentence of death on your three comrades up there,” and I
pointed up the stairway. “You understand, Ivan?”
“By the living God, I do,” he answered, and his voice, tremulous with
earnestness, heightened the effect of the situation.
It was just one of those positions which a little impudence and bluff
will carry when everything else may fail.
The leader of the men growled out a word, and the two revolvers were
lowered. Then he turned to me.
“Who are you?”
“To the devil with your who are you? You can see who I am not, and that
should be enough for you.”
“It is Vastic’s murderer,” said one of the men then, and murmurs of
rage followed. I recognized the speaker as Vastic’s companion.
“You were with him, say what you saw,” I said.
“I saw you shoot him like a dog,” said the fellow.
“You lie, and you know it,” I cried sternly. “I did not shoot him until
he was in the act of shooting me. He mistook me, as you all have, for
the Emperor; and it was his life or mine.”
There was more angry murmuring at this, and I thought the men would
break away from the leader’s control. I have never been nearer death
than at that moment.
“Come down that we may see you better,” said the leader next.
“You can see me quite well enough here; but as you will. Ivan,
remember, three lives for mine,” I called, and I went down deliberately
and stood face to face with them at very close range; and a very
ugly-looking lot they were.
“He is not the Emperor, God curse him,” cried one of the gang.
“I am not even a Russian,” I said.
“Your name?” demanded the leader sternly.
“Is my own concern.”
“I will know it,” he insisted threateningly.
“While you threaten me, I’ll see you damned before I’ll tell you.” This
was only another bluff. It would be useless to deny my name. Helga had
spoken it before Vastic’s companion. But I dared not yield to the man’s
threats. A single symptom of weakness and the whole bluff would be
exposed.
“You carry things daringly,” he said.
“There are three reasons for it--up there,” I retorted grimly. “You
can take my life if you will and if you dare. You are all known well
enough, and foreigners of my position are not murdered in cold blood
without full penalties being exacted. Shoot, if you’ve a mind to face
the public executioner. If you haven’t, let’s put an end to this.”
“You killed our comrade.”
“Yes, and three more will die if you kill me.”
This was the trump card. I could see that. He had sneered when I
had spoken of the executioner; but there was no sneer for this. He
presented indeed the very type of concentrated furious perplexity. Like
the rest, he was willing enough to kill me; but he believed my threat
would be carried out; and fear for his comrades alone saved his hand.
“Do you still refuse your name?” he asked; and I believe he was utterly
at a loss what to do or say.
“Not through fear of your knowing, but I allow no man to threaten me.”
“Will you tell it me then?”
“Yes, when you speak in that tone. My name is Denver; I am an American.”
“How came you to be here?”
“Under circumstances which led to my being regarded as the Emperor.
Among those who fell into the mistake was the spy, Drexel, whose report
to you has caused all the havoc.”
“Where is he?”
“At present, alive. How long he lives depends on you.” He liked this
answer no better than my former threat.
“There has been a fearful mistake,” he said.
“Which you have done your worst to add to.”
“You admit you killed M. Vastic?”
“I haven’t attempted to hide it.”
“For that you and all concerned will have to answer.”
“I am alone responsible. You know that. The man who was there knows it
well.”
“You are suspiciously anxious to shield others.”
“I tell the truth, that’s all. But come,” and I resumed my former tone
of authority; “we have talked enough. Are we to resume this fight, or
will you leave the house and take your men away with you?”
“Are you dictating to me?” he asked, with a start of anger.
“Yes; for I hold the whip hand,” I flung at him.
“You forget your life hangs by a thread.”
“There are four threads and four lives,” I retorted; and again he
winced and bit his lip, and was silenced.
“If we go you must go with us,” he said after a pause.
“Not alive, nor alone;” and I pointed this with a look he could read.
“You will release our comrades?”
I could have laughed aloud as I heard this. It was the proof that I had
beaten him. But I answered as sternly as I could speak.
“It is not for you to dictate to me. Put mademoiselle and the rest
back in the house here; then take your men away with you. When I am
satisfied no treachery is intended, the three prisoners shall be
released.”
“By the living God of Heaven you shall answer for all this,” he cried
in a frenzy of rage. But impotent anger of this sort was nothing to me.
I had him on the hip, and he knew it; and if he chose to vent some of
his wrath in words, let him.
He stood many moments in desperate doubt, seeking for some other way
out of the maze; but he found none, and he turned at length to consult
his fellows. The conference was angry and excited, but no talk or
excitement could alter the fact that to harm me meant the death of
their three comrades.
Muttered oaths were as thick as corn on the cob; fierce threats were
levelled at me, accompanied by glances of bitter hate. Once the counsel
of violence seemed likely to prevail, and the looks and gestures grew
so menacing that I intervened.
“You are listening, and ready, Ivan?” I called.
“Yes, monsieur, quite ready.”
It was enough. The gesticulations ceased, and those who were against
violence had once more the upper hand.
After that the end came soon.
Two of the men went out and returned with Helga, the Duchess Stephanie,
and the women-servants.
Helga’s face lighted when she caught sight of me as the knot of men
fell back and made way for them all to pass.
“No one has been hurt?” I asked her.
“No, not hurt; badly scared, some of us,” she replied. “But what has
happened?”
“We have been arguing on the subject of hostages, and these gentlemen
have taken my view of the subject. There will be no more fighting. Will
you all go upstairs for a few minutes?”
As the men were leaving the house, I called one of the grooms down and
told him to saddle a couple of horses.
“I shall ride a few miles with you,” I told the leader.
“You do not trust me?” he said angrily.
“In my country we see to things for ourselves; that’s all. Ivan,” I
called, “if I do not return in an hour, you will understand there is
trouble. You will know what to do.”
“Yes, monsieur.”
“You try my temper,” said the leader.
“Merely a business precaution,” I replied lightly, and went out with
him to the stables.
“I do not like your business precautions,” he said. “You carry them too
far.”
“The fact is I wish to speak to you, and what I have to say cannot be
said in the hearing of others. I can say it as we ride together.”
I had some very pertinent questions to put to him, indeed, and when he
had found his horse and the groom and I had mounted, I told the latter
to fall back.
“Now,” I said, as we all started, “I want to know what is to be the
result of this night’s work, so far as I am concerned.”