The Puppet Crown by Harlod MacGrath (e book reader online TXT) 📖

point of a revolver; I had nothing to say. If I had really been careless you would have accomplished the feat just the same. For it was easily accomplished you will admit. 'Tis true I knew you were acting because I expected you to act. All this preamble puzzles you."

Certainly Maurice's countenance expressed nothing less than perplexity. He stepped back a few paces.

"You have," continued the Colonel, "perhaps three-quarters of an hour. You will be able to get out of here. You will have to depend on your resources to cross the frontier."

"Would you just as soon explain to me-"

"It means that a certain young lady, like myself, believes in your innocence."

"The countess?" Maurice cried eagerly, remembering the look of the night before and the tears which were in it.

"I will not mention any names. Suffice it to say that it was due to her pleading that I consented to play poker-and to let you fall into my arms. Come, to work," holding out his hands.

First Maurice clasped the hand and wrung it. "Colonel, I do not want you to get into trouble on my account-"

"Go along with you! If you were really important," in half a banter, "it would be altogether a different matter. As it is, you are more in the way than anything else, only Madame does not see it in that light. Come, at my wrists, and take your handkerchief and tie it over my mouth; make a complete job of it while you're at it."

"But they'll wonder how I tied you-"

"By the book, the boy is quite willing to sit down and play poker with me till the escort comes! Don't trouble yourself about me; Madame has too much need of me to give me more than a slight rating. Hurry and be off, and remember that Beauvais has promised to push you off the board. Take the near path for the woods and strike northeast. If you run into any sentries it will be your own fault."

"And the army?"

"The army? Who the devil has said anything about the army?"

"I heard it go past last night."

"Humph! Keep to the right of the pass. Now, quick, before my conscience speaks above a whisper."

"I should like to see the countess."

"You will-if you reach Bleiberg by to-morrow night."

Maurice needed no further urging, and soon he had the Colonel securely bound and silenced. Next he put on the Colonel's hat and coat, and examined the revolver.

"It was very kind of you to load it, Colonel."

The Colonel blinked his eyes.

"Au revoir!" said Maurice, as he made for the door. "Vergis mein nicht!" and he was gone.

He crept down the stairs, cautiously entered the court, it was deserted. The moon was up and shining. The gate was locked, but he climbed it without mishap. Not a sentry was in sight. He followed the path, and swung off into the forest. He was free. Here he took a breathing spell. When he started onward he held the revolver ready. Woe to the sentry who blundered on him! For he was determined to cross the frontier if there was a breath of life in him. Moreover, he must be in Bleiberg within twenty hours.

He was positive that Madame the duchess intended to steal a march, to declare war only when she was within gunshot of Bleiberg. It lay with him to provent this move. His cup of wrath was full. From now on he was resolved to wage war against Madame on his own account. She had laughed in his face. He pushed on, examining trees, hollows and ditches. Sometimes he put his hand to his ear and listened. There was no sound in the great lonely forest, save for the low murmur of the wind through the sprawling boughs. Shadows danced on the forest floor. Once he turned and shook his clenched fist toward the spot which marked the location of the Red Chateau. He thanked Providence that he was never to see it again. What an adventure to tell at the clubs when he once more regained his Vienna! Would he regain it?

Why did Madame keep Fitzgerald to her strings? He concluded not to bother himself with problems abstract; the main object was to cross the Thalians by a path of his own choosing. When he had covered what he thought to be a quarter of a mile, he mounted a lookout. The highway was about three hundred yards to the left. That was where it should be. He saw no sentries, so he slid down from the tree and resumed his journey. The chestnuts, oaks, and firs were growing thicker and denser. A dead branch cracked with a loud report beneath his feet. With his heart almost in his throat, he lay down and listened. A minute passed; he listened in vain for an answering noise. He got up and went on.

Presently he came upon a cluster of trees which was capable of affording a hiding place for three or four men. He stood still and surveyed it. The moon cast moving shadows on either side of it, but these had no human shape. He laughed silently at his fear, and as he was about to pass the cluster a man stepped out from behind it, his eyes gleaming and his hand extended. He was rather a handsome fellow, but pale and emaciated. He wore a trooper's uniform, and Maurice, swearing softly, concluded that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.

"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"


CHAPTER XXIV


THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU

There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, expecting to be followed.

"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"

"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.

The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think not. Now, then, right about face-march! Aye, toward the frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now march."

But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.

"No, curse you!"

"Who are you, then?"

"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me these twenty minutes."

"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"

"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly willing to parley with you."

"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the devil I care how I get there."

"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise mingling with his impatience.

"No place else."

"Are you a spy?" menacingly.

"No more than you."

"But that uniform!"

"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.

"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist," with growing doubt.

"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."

"What are you doing in that uniform?"

"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"

"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"

There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.

"And you?" he asked.

"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?" suddenly.

"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.

"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the truth about yourself?"

"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable hospitality of the Red Chateau-good Lord!" striking his forehead.

"What's the matter?"

"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"

"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"

Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures.

"And this cursed Englishman?"

"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."

"And the king; is he dead?"

"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?

"And her Highness-her Royal Highness?" eagerly clutching Maurice by the arm; "and she?"

"She does not murmur, though both her pride and her heart are sore. She has scarcely a dozen friends. Her paralytic father is the theme of ribald jest; and now they laugh at her because the one man who perhaps could have saved the throne has deserted her like a coward. Hang him, I say!"

"What do they say?" The tones were hollow.

"They say he is enamoured of a peasant girl, and dallies with her, forgetting his sacred vows, his promised aid, and perhaps even this, his wedding day."

"God help him!" was the startling and despairing cry. . . . He was again seized with the vertigo, and swayed against the tree. For a moment he forgot Maurice, covered his face with his unengaged hand, and sobbed.

Maurice was helpless; he could offer no consolation. This grief he could not understand. He stooped and picked up his revolver and waited.

"I am weak," said the other man, dashing his hand from his eyes; "I am weak and half starved. It would be better for all concerned if I blew out my brains. The twentieth, the twentieth!" he repeated, dully. "Curse her!" he burst forth; "as there's a God above us, I'll have revenge. Aye, I'll return to the chateau, Madame, that I will, but at the head of ten thousand men! . . . The twentieth! She will never forgive me; she will think I, too, deserted her!" He broke down again.

"An army!" cried Maurice.

"Aye, and ten thousand men! Come," taking Maurice by the arm; "come, they may be seeking us. To the frontier. Every hour is precious. To a telegraph office! We shall see if I dally with peasant girls, if I forsake the woman