Spoerri had fetched the Countess from the villa in the western suburbs,
which she had occupied but half an hour, and hurried off with her in
the car. Mabuse, in his light little two-seater, had caught up the
heavier car between Kaufbeuren and Günzburg, and both drove on without
stopping. This had all been arranged between them long before. Where
the road to Wangen diverged from the Lindau road, the large car ahead
came to a standstill, and the little car drove close up. The Countess
was transferred; Mabuse drove on, and Spoerri took the road leading to
Austria.
Mabuse had arranged that at this point their roads should separate.
Spoerri should reach Switzerland by way of the Rhine. Each of them must
leave an address in Zürich with Dr. Ebenhügel, who could then exchange
them. Mabuse, with the Countess, would drive to the Villa Elise, where
George, who had been instructed by pigeon-post, would be waiting with
the chest containing the securities and the jewels Mabuse would take
with him on his flight. Then the three of them would immediately cross
the lake to Luxburg, where a motor would be in waiting, and proceed
along the Romanshorn main road to Zürich. There would be a brief stop
at Zürich for the transaction of business.
It was likely that the authorities in Bavaria would ask the Swiss ones
to search for the fugitives, and therefore Mabuse wanted to make his
stay in Switzerland as brief as possible, and to push on to the Italian
frontier. He had had passes for himself and the Countess prepared in
a Portuguese surname. An Italian official had been bribed, and by his
help all difficulties disappeared as chaff before the wind.
The Countess sat at the back of the car, behind its high body. In
front of her Mabuse, sitting at the wheel, seemed like some monumental
image. In the uncertain light the outlines of his powerful figure stood
out with ghostly effect. There was not the slightest movement to be
seen, and from her seat behind he looked like a block of granite, seen
standing alone in a meadow.
They sped by highways, villages, hamlets, and then the waters of the
lake gleamed in the night. A few lights at intervals on its shores,
shapes appearing and disappearing in the darkness, dimly suggesting
human beings, a change in the air one breathed ... two villages
appearing to float like illuminated ships upon the water ... there was
Switzerland already.
Lindau lay to the side, and their car was now racing along roads
bordered by country villas. And then came the last minute. The car
bounded across the track to the Enisweiler station, and rushed forward
to the Villa Elise. At the first glance Mabuse’s sharp eyes saw that
the gates opening on to the drive stood wide open.
The pigeon-post had arrived safely and in good time then. He felt as if
the impetuous haste with which he had driven hither in the darkness
had yielded him a fresh sensation. It was now just before 3.30 a.m.,
and he kept his senses constantly on the alert without slackening his
speed. When he was about to turn into the drive, he pressed the brakes
hard for a moment before allowing the car to run its course; it held up
for an instant, then, veering round, went straight through the gates
and turned towards the garden.
Just then he felt something spring on to the car. On the clutch side,
springing over the door, a form squeezed down on the outer side of
Mabuse. Two hands covered his own, snatched the steering-gear from him,
and a wild, hoarse, impressive voice whispered, “Doctor, I’m here: it’s
George. Give me the wheel. We are surrounded. Straight forward into the
lake....”
Mabuse yielded the wheel and let go the brakes. Under its new guide the
car dashed ahead, thundered round the grey walls of the villa, abruptly
turned a corner, got on to a grass-plot, and raced frantically across
it, along the sloping gravel patch to the wall which divided the lake
from the garden above. Through the gate in the wall it leaped like a
wild horse and then clattered down the inclined wooden footway, the
boards thundering beneath it. A moment later its nose was in the water
and the lake hissing around it.
George leant forward as quick as lightning and gripped levers, Mabuse
helping him. The night re-echoed the Countess’s cry, and then the
vehicle, tottering slightly at first, but slowly righting itself, went
onward over the surface of the water.
“Splendid!” cried George. “It is working like magic!”
This car was an invention of his own. It could be driven straight from
the highroad into the water without stopping, and a couple of levers
turned it at once into a motor-boat.
“It is the pigeons that have done the mischief,” said George, when he
had gained thorough control of his vessel. “After they arrived in the
dark, about an hour ago, I seemed to hear whispering voices behind
a shrubbery. I looked very carefully round, and thought I noticed a
movement going all round the park. In one place, and then twenty paces
further on, and then twenty paces beyond that again, in a circle, the
whole way round, so then I knew we were surrounded. However, I managed
to get to the gate leading to the garden without being seen. It took me
fifty minutes to do the hundred yards. If we had not had this car, we
should now be sitting handcuffed inside the Villa Elise.”
The constables, who had distributed themselves with all possible
precautions about the villa, and had taken four hours to complete the
ring around it, one after another taking up his position, had heard
the car thundering along through the silent night. They lay in tense
expectation at their posts, awaiting the whistle which should summon
them to the house to fall upon the criminals.
Just an hour before there had been a slight interruption. A bird had
suddenly flown through a tree and disappeared beneath the eaves. One
of the constables close to the house had noticed it. He had seen
the bird fluttering about the roof and then suddenly disappearing
without having flown away elsewhere. His conjecture that it was a
carrier-pigeon was soon confirmed by the appearance of a second bird,
which also disappeared in the eaves. The constable stole softly to the
inspector and announced what he had seen and suspected. The latter saw
at once what this might indicate. Poldringer had received warning from
Munich, from the fugitives. He therefore ordered a constable to proceed
with the utmost caution from one outpost to another and relate the
fact, saying that those in the house had probably been warned, and that
they must redouble their precautions and at the same time be prepared
for stronger resistance.
The movements of the constable as he went from post to post had put
George on his guard.... Mabuse’s car reached the grounds, and the
inspector’s quivering fingers were already raising the whistle to his
mouth. At the moment when the occupants of the car should have left it
and be about to close the door of the house behind them, he meant to
give the signal. Two detectives were lying concealed in the shrubs to
the left of the front door, and could reach it before the key was even
turned in the lock, but the inspector gave no sign.
The car rushed round the corner, not stopping at the door. It tore
frantically round the house as if about to rush pell-mell into the
Lake. The inspector, forgetting all caution in the excitement and
disappointment of the moment, sprang forward after it, and saw that
it actually did disappear in the water. Like a sinister amphibian it
leaped over the low wall, thundered down the wooden footway and sprang
into the Lake.
Then at last he blew his whistle, and the posse of constables came
running from all directions, knocking up against each other.
“To the shore!” shouted the sergeant.
There was no car to be seen anywhere. About two hundred yards from the
shore the engines of a motor-boat could be heard in the darkness. They
searched beneath the roadway, up and down the lake-side, dazed and
disappointed, but in vain.
Then at last the inspector realized what must have happened. The
unceasing efforts, strain and hopes of an entire month had come to
nought. His prize capture had escaped him. He was so absolutely
disheartened by this maddening thought that he unconsciously pressed to
his temples the revolver that he held ready-cocked in his hand, as if
his very life must be forfeit through the failure of his enterprise. A
moment later he lowered the revolver, and the ball, singeing his hair,
fell harmless into the night. Upon the Lake a light shone out. Further
on, another. The shot had aroused the attention of the spy-boats.
Not till then did the inspector remember these allies, whom in his
first access of despair he had completely forgotten. “Bring Morse
lamps!” he cried. How _could_ he have overlooked the motor-boats?
Immediately flashes were sent to the two boats: “The fugitives have
escaped, and are on a motor-boat on the lake.”
“All right,” was flashed back, and a few minutes later powerful
searchlights were directed towards the lake. It was not long before
they had located the escaping boat. But they had also warned it, for at
that very moment it was about to run into them.
* * * * *
Mabuse and George were at once aware of their danger. The two
searchlights advancing on them seemed like the open jaws of a monster
approaching to devour them. George steered to larboard, and the boat
settled its course in a new direction. The water streamed over the
rudder and gleamed about them, frothing in the darkness. “There is only
one way,” said Mabuse in a low voice, “the Rhine estuary.”
He considered the matter coolly and boldly. He was once more in a
situation quite familiar to him, because he had lived through and
overcome it countless times in imagination. On the German shore,
whither they could easily return, everyone would be on the lookout for
them. On the Austrian shore there was only Bregenz, shown up clearly
by the searchlights. Between these two regions there was a large and
very sparsely inhabited territory around the Rhine estuary. In twenty
minutes they could reach land and then make their choice between
Switzerland and Austria. If they were lucky enough to run their vehicle
on to land again as easily as they had run it into the water, they
would have sufficient start to make their escape certain.
One of the pursuing boats, however, lay right out in the lake. It
seemed to guess at the fugitives’ intentions, for it did not follow
them in a direct line, but remained to starboard, keeping abreast of
them near the Swiss shore, as if awaiting a favourable opportunity to
intercept them.
Perhaps it only wanted to keep between them and Switzerland. The
searchlights from both boats met above Mabuse’s. The first faint traces
of daylight were already appearing. Firing was heard behind them. One
of the boats now followed in their wake, but at a little distance to
the rear. The two pursuing boats exchanged Morse signals with each
other.
For a time George steered a zigzag course, the vehicle swaying hither
and thither with the constantly changing displacement of the rudder.
George wanted to make it appear that he was trying to break through to
the Swiss shore, but he, too, was excited by the searchlights. He did
not succeed in getting out of their glare for more than a few moments
at a time. The boat which was astern only went so slowly now because it
was solely concerned with keeping them under view and cutting off their
retreat to the German shore. The Morse signals used were secret ones,
and neither Mabuse nor George could make them out although, through
their frequent trips by water, they were fairly well acquainted with
such things.
Suddenly the boat to the starboard side of them extinguished its
searchlight. Above the infernal noise made by their own motor they
could hear the engine of this boat ahead, its sound growing shriller
and nearer. Their own motor was exerting its utmost pressure. The
shooting had now ceased, and above the sounds made by their boat
another noise could be heard. Mabuse bent forward towards it, listening
with all his ears, the searchlight falling full upon him. He still
wore the police uniform which had made his escape possible.
At first the Countess had lain in the boat half-conscious. The shots,
the droning of the engines, the haste and excitement of the men
beside her, had gradually awakened her, and she began to grasp what
was happening. She, too, heard, above the throbbing of the engines,
a second sound. She sat up, holding her head over the side whence it
came, and listened intently.
“What is that?” she asked Mabuse, who was standing near, planted firmly
on the deck with his back to the engine and appearing entirely at
ease. He could be clearly seen in the searchlight with his hand on the
gunwale, listening intently.
“Nothing!” he hissed; “be quiet!”
“What is it?” she asked again in a sharper tone, and there was
something in the sound of her voice that had not been heard for a
long time. It seemed as if a stone that had long lain at her heart
were now being dissolved into a mass of pulp. To this feeling, still
but half-conscious, she yielded herself more and more. By degrees she
appeared to realize what was happening within her. Then, rising and
standing in front of Mabuse, she suddenly cried out, “Now, at last....”
The sounds of the water and the night stole over her like a joy beyond
bound or measure. Eagerly she absorbed with heart and mind the light,
sweet rustle they made, and she perceived that every moment they became
more pronounced. At last she understood. The pursuer was advancing
rapidly upon them, and came ever nearer....
“What do you mean by that ‘at last’?” asked Mabuse roughly. “Sit down
and keep quiet!”
“What is that sound we hear?” she said in a ringing voice.
“Death--perhaps!” answered Mabuse calmly.
“For _you_!” cried the woman facing him, above the swirling of the
waters. “I shall be able to shake you off at last. I shall be saved
from you. The werwolf will be caught, and your power over me and over
others be at an end!”
“I will soon show you that,” said Mabuse, advancing and bending over
her; and then what happened came so quickly that she could scarcely
distinguish the movements.
“George!” called Mabuse, the one word only, and then he unfastened
the police uniform which concealed his clothing and threw it towards
George, who at once donned it and stood near the Countess, exposing
himself to the searchlight, while Mabuse took his place at the wheel.
They heard a shout close to them. “Halt!” cried a voice from out the
sounds her eager ears had been absorbing. “Halt!” A shot whizzed in the
air, and an echo resounded.
George fired in return. The boat gave an upward lurch and then suddenly
two high dams enclosed it. Where was the lake? Where was the wide
expanse of night? There was a rustling sound, and a beating against the
spring tides of the Rhine. The searchlight had disappeared, and a soft,
warm mist covered the stream and the dams. They were smooth as railway
lines, and a bridge lay diagonally above them. The throbbing of the
engine resounded from its arched vault.
Then a sudden movement flung the Countess to the ground. The boat
sprang up into the air with a loud report, but the woman was caught
as she fell; she could feel herself lifted; someone held her, and ran
swiftly with her; her cries were stifled, and a red mist swam before
her eyes.
* * * * *
George lay on the shore, one arm broken. With the sound one he felt for
the police helmet and crammed it down on his head. The fall had stunned
him slightly, but he could have escaped; nevertheless, he lay still.
It was not long before he saw two revolvers levelled at him. Two
electric torches glared before his eyes. “We’ve got the one in
uniform!” said a voice. George kept quite quiet. He was carried from
the land into a boat and fettered to a thwart. The engine started, and
the boat drove across the lake back to Schachen.
The day was dawning when George reached the wooden landing-stage once
more. They took him into the villa and locked him into a room with
barred windows, out of which he could not escape, even had two men not
been in charge of him.
The inspector said to himself, “Thank God, we have caught him at last,
and in his police uniform too! thank God!”
* * * * *
At five o’clock that morning Wenk left Munich in a hydroplane, landing
two hours later at Schachen. He flew up the stairs of the Villa Elise
to reach the room where the imprisoned robber-king was waiting ...
waiting for _him_, the conqueror!
“Here is Dr. Mabuse,” called out the inspector, advancing towards him.
“We have him safe at last, thank God!”
Wenk, jubilant, victorious, and intoxicated with success, entered the
room and saw the man in police uniform fast bound to his chair.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“There ... on that chair!”
Wenk looked at the man more closely. He knew it already: his quarry had
escaped! Back into the endless, the dark and empty night, everything
fell once more, and at first he could neither hear nor speak a word.
Suddenly the inspector said, “But that is Poldringer, the man we’ve
been watching all these weeks!”
“Yes, that is Poldringer,” answered Wenk heavily. Mabuse had escaped.