THE SECRET ROOM
That night Von Tressen and Galabin agreed to make a determined attempt
to solve the mystery they had found at Rozsnyo.
“There seems no object in delay,” Galabin had argued. “If the place is
watched by Zarka’s people, the patrol will continue as long as there
is any reason for it. No; our friend the Count is certainly a highly
suspicious character, and the sooner one tries to find out something
more about him the better. For I cannot pretend that as yet there is
anything very tangible to report to Gersdorff.”
So after dark the two friends set out once more, taking this time an
indirect route so as to approach Rozsnyo from the depth of the wood,
not by the customary path from the valley. Their object was, naturally,
to elude the vigilance of the man D’Alquen whom they rather expected
to find there, and whom they imagined to be in some way connected with
Zarka and his proceedings.
They made their way cautiously through the darkness of the wood till
they calculated they were near the castle. With increased wariness they
now went forward, careful to give no sign of their approach to any
one who might be on the look-out. A half-smothered exclamation from
Galabin made his companion start and look round on the alert, Galabin
pointed straight in front. Von Tressen could see nothing; he crept to
his friend’s side, and so, coming within the same line of vision, saw
plainly what the trees before had intercepted. A light.
“If it should be from that mysterious window?” Galabin whispered.
They went forward now quickly and silently, anxious to get a nearer
view of the light before it should disappear. Quickly they came to
the edge of the wood. Yes; they were in luck. There, in the midst of
what was usually a dead, blank wall, was the open window, and from it
through the darkness streamed evidence of a lighted room within.
“Quick! Up into the tree!” Galabin urged his companion in a whisper.
Von Tressen was already preparing to climb, and was soon hidden in
the branches. “At any rate the window has stayed for him this time,”
Galabin muttered to himself, as he waited with eyes fixed on the light
which showed no sign of disappearing.
Presently a slight rustling above announced that the Lieutenant was
descending. “Well?” Galabin asked anxiously, as the other alighted
beside him.
Von Tressen shook his head with a disappointed look. “Nothing to be
seen,” he answered. “One can look into the window well enough; only a
kind of low screen runs before it, which effectually hides everything
but the cornice round the walls of the room. But that it is a room,
and that some one is in it, I am certain, for once I saw a shadow move
along the wall.”
“You are sure there is no chance of seeing who is there?”
“Positively none at all; that is, from the tree.”
“The screen before the window makes it more suspicious than ever,”
Galabin observed thoughtfully.
“Assuredly it does. Especially as it seems, so far as one could make
out, a fixed affair.”
“Osbert,” Galabin said suddenly, “we are bound to see what is behind.
We must get to the bottom of the mystery. And if we cannot see through
the window, we must get a sight from above.”
“Is it possible?” the Lieutenant asked doubtfully, as he surveyed the
high massive walls looming black in front of them.
“I think so,” Galabin answered. “I took the liberty of reconnoitring
the walls from the wood to-day, as you know, and believe I have
discovered a place where at least the attempt to scale them may be
made. But where is our inquisitive friend, Herr D’Alquen?”
“No sign of him.”
“We must not rely on that. Now let us keep in the shadow thrown by this
light, creep across the dip as though he were watching for us, and so
make our way round the walls. I took the bearings of the point where
our chance seems to lie.”
Accordingly they crossed stealthily to the walls, and then made their
way round with the utmost caution till Galabin, who went first, made
a sign that the point he had indicated was reached. Here the wall
dropped considerably and was grown over with ivy. It seemed a disused,
half-ruinous, certainly neglected, part of the building.
“We ought to be able to reach the top from here,” Galabin whispered.
“Whether it will be possible to work our way along when we are up there
is another question, but in the daylight I could see nothing to forbid
it.”
“At any rate we will make a good attempt,” replied Von Tressen, eager
for the adventure. “Let me go first.”
“I have brought a long strap with me,” Galabin said, unbuckling it from
his waist. “It may give us just the help we want. Take it with you; you
are the better climber.”
Winding the stout strap round him, Von Tressen began, without more ado,
to work his way up the ivy-grown wall. Noiselessness being imperative,
the business was not easy, especially as many of the branches on the
line of ascent were not strong enough to bear a man’s weight. However,
with some difficulty he reached the top of the wall, and by the aid
of the strap Galabin was soon up beside him. Then began a long crawl,
not without danger, along the uneven wall, which at that part formed
a sort of battlement rising to a considerable height above the roof.
Carefully feeling their way as they went, the two were making steady
though tedious progress towards their goal when it was checked by a
sudden rise in the wall, of such a height and angle that its ascent was
almost impossible, certainly most hazardous. Galabin had not failed to
notice this, but had scarcely realized what a bar to their attempt it
was likely to be.
“We cannot manage this,” Von Tressen said, after standing up and
examining the obstacle as well as he could. “It would be sheer madness
to attempt it, at any rate until we have failed in every other way. We
must let ourselves down to the roof and try our luck there. In any case
we should hardly be able to pass the tower.”
Promptly lowering himself till he hung from the wall by his hands,
he took hold of the strap and his companion let him slowly down.
Galabin’s own descent was naturally less easy; he had to hang at arm’s
length and so drop on to Von Tressen’s shoulders, and had not the
Lieutenant been an athlete the feat might have had a disastrous ending.
However, the descent was accomplished in safety, and now began their
progress along the edge of the roof under the parapet. It occurred to
them both they had been foolish not to have tried that way from the
first, since their advance was easier and they were securely hidden
from any one who might be watching from outside.
A few yards on Von Tressen whispered back--
“There is the light! You were right, Horaz.”
They had reached and were passing the tower flanking the wall in which
was the mysterious window. The roof rose higher there, but a little way
above and beyond them was to be seen a hazy brightness as rising from
the skylight of a room below. The climb to the higher roof presented
little difficulty, and as the two men reached it each felt a thrill
of excitement at the thought that the solution of the mystery was now
about to be theirs. What were they going to look down upon? Noiselessly
now, with the utmost caution, they crept forwards on hands and knees,
nearer to the light, nearer still, checking their impatience with the
thought that a slip or the slightest noise might mean failure, and
more, might cost them their reputations if not their lives.
Foot by foot they drew themselves towards the lighted roof, till at
last they could make out how it was contrived. Above the level rose an
iron frame about six inches high and perhaps ten feet square. As they
reached the structure they found it crossed and recrossed by stout iron
bars bolted to the frame, and beneath there was a skylight of opaque
glass. So their curiosity was baffled, for, although a light shone from
the room below, it was impossible to distinguish any object in it.
They held a whispered consultation.
“We are not going to be beaten like this,” Von Tressen said. “We must
get a look down somehow.”
It was not so easy. The roof window had evidently been constructed
to guard not only against admittance either way, but also against
observation.
“The only thing to do is to examine it closely,” Galabin whispered. “We
may find a peephole.”
Silently they crawled round the edge of the framework examining
every pane they could reach. All to no purpose; the painted glass
tantalizingly refused to reveal the secret it covered. When they had
completed the circuit of the frame Galabin suggested that he, as the
lighter man, should venture out on to the cross bars and try for better
luck in the centre. This was not an easy task, especially as it had to
be effected without noise.
“Take care how you come back,” Von Tressen warned him. “That will be
the most difficult part.”
Very slowly Galabin crawled out, snake-wise, upon the bars, gently
feeling, as he went, the glass below each interstice. The Lieutenant
watched him anxiously, rather chafing at his own inaction. Presently
his attention was quickened as he became aware that Galabin was resting
longer than usual over a certain square. Then as he anxiously watched,
he saw his companion raise his arm and motion him to join him, but from
the side running at right angles, no doubt to distribute the strain
on the bars. Von Tressen at once began to crawl round and so towards
his companion, his eagerness being restrained only by the warning hand
which was still uplifted. It did not take long, however, to bring their
heads close together, and Von Tressen could see that Galabin’s search
had been rewarded.
Almost in the centre of the skylight a pane of glass was defective. It
moved slightly in its leaden casing, and one corner had either been
left clear through carelessness, or a scrap of the colouring with which
it had been covered had by some means been removed. Anyhow there was
left practically a peephole through which nearly the whole of the room
beneath was clearly visible. Galabin raised his head, and signed to Von
Tressen to look down.
This is what he saw.
A fair-sized room, comfortably furnished, the walls surrounded with
heavy curtains, the floor covered with a Turkey carpet. At one end
the curtains were looped back, showing an alcove in which was a small
bed. In the outer wall was also an uncurtained space containing the
mysterious window, and before this ran the screen which had prevented
their seeing into the room. It was a substantial affair of painted
iron, which appeared to be securely fastened to the wall by bars at
either end. In the room, at a table on which stood a lamp, sat a man
reading. His head was bent over the book, and he seemed to be wearing
some curious kind of cap, but from his position it was not possible
to see his face. So he sat almost motionless, as the two men by turns
observed him, reading steadily with one elbow resting on the table, his
head on his hand, while with the other he occasionally turned the leaf.
For a long time they watched him, half fascinated, for, apart from his
surroundings, there was a suggestion of strangeness and mystery about
the figure. Suddenly he closed the book and pushed it from him, then
threw up his hands, stretching back in an attitude of weariness. As he
did so Galabin, who was at that moment in possession of the spy-hole,
started back in amazement. Von Tressen in wonder looked through, and
saw the cause of his action. The man below in throwing up his head
disclosed a strange sight. For the face which the watchers had expected
to see was covered by a mask, a white mask, bearing some resemblance to
a ghastly human face, and fastened on by the curious head-piece which
had puzzled them.
The man lay back in his chair with limbs stretched out, and the hideous
face upturned for several minutes, during which the two men above
watched him in uncomfortable fascination. Presently he sat upright,
and turned his head towards the farther end of the room. Although of
course there was a hideous absence of expression, yet the action was
one of expectancy. The curtains moved, then parted, and a man came into
the room, a short, thick-set, determined-looking fellow, in Magyar
costume. He moved quickly across the room, carrying a pistol in his
hand. Taking from his pocket a small winch he fitted it to a keyhole by
the window and turned it. As he did so the mystery of its disappearance
was solved, for, from the side an iron shutter moved noiselessly across
the window, completely closing the aperture. This was, no doubt, on
the outside made to match the stone wall, and so give no hint of an
opening.
Having returned the winch to his pocket, the man went to the table and
spoke a few words to the masked prisoner, for such he evidently was.
Whether the other replied or not it was impossible for the watchers to
tell. The jailor then left the room, and the prisoner, turning down the
lamp, rose and went towards the alcove where the bed stood. The lamp
flickered out, and only the faint flame of a candle remained. Galabin
touched his companion, and withdrawing from the grating as silently
as they had come, they made their way back along the roof, lowered
themselves to the ground, and reached the wood without incident.