Blood Royal (3 page)

Read Blood Royal Online

Authors: Dornford Yates

Tags: #Blood Royal

BOOK: Blood Royal
10.86Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

After another five minutes the manservant reappeared and descended the steps. I saw that the man was English.

“Her Highness hopes, sir,” he said, “that you will come in.”

“Beg her Highness to excuse us,” I said. “And tell his Highness Duke Paul that, if he has no objection, we are anxious to start at once.”

“Very good, sir,” said the man, and withdrew.

For a moment or two we sat waiting. Then the Grand Duchess appeared at the head of the steps.

“So I must come myself,” she said quietly.

Hanbury and I uncovered, but sat where we were.

“I’m sorry I spoke so rudely and I should like to be friends.”

I opened my door and alighted, and Hanbury followed me out.

“The fault was mine,” I stammered, with my eyes on the ground.

As though I had not spoken she turned to George.

“I saw you looking at the bay. If you’re interested in horses, I can show you a better than he.”

“We’d love to see him,” said Hanbury.

She led the way over the cobbles and under another arch…

She never addressed me once, but when we had seen her three hunters she led us into the house by another way. I hardly looked at her, except when her back was turned, but she had changed her clothes for a dress of an old rose colour which suited her very well.

As we came into a hall, a woman of many summers rose from a table at which she was writing a note, and the Duke cried ‘Hullo’ from the sofa on which he sprawled.

The Grand Duchess introduced us, and I was astonished to find that the Duke, who must have informed her, had so well remembered our names.

“My great-aunt, Mrs Scarlett,” she said. And then, “My mother was English. That’s why I speak so well.”

“We needn’t start yet,” said the Duke. “Sit down and have a brandy. I’ve tasted worse.”

Before we could make any answer, a telephone-bell was ringing somewhere at hand,

The Grand Duchess flashed to a corner, and I heard her reply.

“Yes…this is Anger. Yes, Marya, this is me… He’s here, he’s here, Marya. He’s just going to start for Vigil: he ought to be there by six… He’ll tell you himself: I can’t tell you over the line, but… What?… I can’t quite hear, Marya. ‘Tell him…’” She took the second earpiece and listened with all her might. “Yes, I’ve got that. I will. And… Very well. At eight o’clock this evening, if you’ve no news before. Goodbye, Marya.”

She put the receiver back and turned to the Duke.

“The Prince is worse,” she said. “The doctors won’t say he’s sinking, but he’s awfully bad. Marya says you must come as quick as ever you can. Her words were ‘Tell him it’s vital – you can guess what I mean.’”

The Duke was biting his nails.

“It’s all damned fine,” he said. “These sort of shows can’t be rushed. What on earth did you say I was here for?”

The Grand Duchess stared at him.

“Why shouldn’t I say so? What do you propose to do?”

“Go carefully,” said the Duke. “I’m not at all sure that it’s wise to go bursting back.”

“I suppose by ‘wise’ you mean ‘safe’?”

Mrs Scarlett covered her eyes, but the Duke’s withers were unwrung.

“It’s all Weber’s fault,” he cried, “for withdrawing those blasted police. They police me in Paris and London. Why the devil don’t they police me at home?” He got to his feet. “I’ll ring him up and tell him to send some along.”

The Grand Duchess appeared to hesitate. Then she went to his side.

“Paul,” she said, “listen to me. It’s vital that you should get back and state your case. Till you appear and start talking, Johann, Grieg and Co. can have it all their own way: but once the Prince knows what’s happened, Johann won’t dare to touch you – that’s common sense. And now get ready.
I’m coming with you
.” The Duke started, and the old lady rose to her feet. “I may as well be at Vigil, and – well, it’d rather amuse me to flatten Johann.”

Before he could answer she was gone, and, since there was no point in our waiting, we took our leave of her great-aunt and made our way back to the car.

I was astounded at this complete change of front. Her declarations apart, three hours ago I could have sworn that the girl did not care a farthing whether Duke Paul or his cousin came to the throne. More. She had seemed to care for his honour less than he cared for it himself. This in cold blood. Such an outlook had not surprised me. To know him was to lose interest in such a man. And now…

As Hanbury took his seat, I reflected that it was at least more pleasant to carry to Vigil one who was worth her salt.

 

We were twenty miles from the frontier when I saw a closed car ahead by the side of the road. Of this I thought little enough, but we had encountered very little traffic, and I think that when you are moving on empty roads you always observe a car which is standing still.

As we drew near, I could see that someone was standing beside the car and was watching us closely, as though he were more than half minded to signal to us to stop; but, when we drew nearer, I saw him turn back to his car and shake his head.

I was wondering what was his business and for whom, if not us, he was watching, when he looked round again. The next instant he was out in the road and was waving his arms.

Hanbury spoke over his shoulder.

“Am I to stop?”

“What? Yes. Stop!” cried the Duke. “Stop, man, stop!
It’s the police
. Good old Weber.” I heard him slap his thigh. “Marya Dresden must have told him. Oh, my aunt, what a scream!”

I give his own words, as he spoke them, for, though as a rule, he spoke German, he very often used English and spoke it extremely well. But I cannot represent his jubilant tone or the awkwardness of the silence which succeeded his speech. The man was above shame.

As George set his foot upon the brake, another man came running to join the first. Both wore a grey uniform which was bound with green.

As the car stopped, they saluted.

“Pardon, your Highness,” said the first, who had stripes on his sleeve, “but we have been sent to escort you.”

“That’s the style,” said the Duke, and, without asking Hanbury or me, he bade them mount the Rolls and stand on her running-boards.

The sergeant looked ill-at-ease.

“Your Highness will excuse me,” he said, “but we were instructed that your Highness would use the police car.”

The Duke frowned.

The Rolls was very good-looking and moved like a bird on the wing: the other was closed and shabby and the noisy fuss of its engine promised a less pleasant ride.

“No,” he said shortly. “I’m going to stay where I am. Get on the step, as I tell you, and your driver can follow behind.”

“Your Highness will forgive me,” said the sergeant, “but we have had special instructions not to go by the bridge at Elsa, but to follow a devious route.”

There was a little silence.

Then—

“Does the chauffeur know the way?” said the Duke.

“Yes, your Highness, he does. And he alone. So—”

“Then we’ll follow him,” said the Duke, lighting a cigarette.

There was nothing more to be said, and, though George and I were raging inwardly, for the sake of the Grand Duchess we held our peace.

One minute later we were again under way.

Our speed was now much lower, for our pilot was not a swift car and was troubled by every rise. Very soon, moreover, it left the main road, leading us into country through which no car could hasten, for the roads were none too wide and very crooked, the hills severe and most of the turnings blind.

We had gone, I suppose, some three miles and had just descended the very deuce of a hill, when we rounded a sudden bend to see the police car at rest in the midst of the way. Where it stood, the road was sunk in a little swell of the forest which lay hereabouts, and we could not draw alongside to see what the matter might be.

As George brought the Rolls to a standstill, the sergeant stepped into the road and opened the hinder door.

“Your Highness will descend immediately.”

We all stared at him.

“And no one else will move,” said a voice on my left.

Instinctively we all looked round.

The other policeman was still on the running-board, half sitting on the near spare wheel, with one hand grasping the windscreen and the other a Service revolver of which he seemed none too sure.

“God in heaven,” said the Duke weakly. “And I thought you were police.”

The first speaker bowed.

“We flatter ourselves,” he said, “a very natural mistake.”

As the Duke rose, the man on my left incautiously lowered his weapon, and I hit him full in the stomach with all my might. It was, of course, a foul blow, and he crumpled and then fell sideways without a sound.

The rest was easy.

Rowley had closed with the sergeant before he could draw, and, when I descended, my man had dropped his revolver and was writhing in pain.

“Tie them up,” said I, and ran for the other car.

This began to move forward when I was but six feet away, and, though I made a great effort, before I could manage to board it, I was outrun.

At once George brought up the Rolls and, almost before I was in, began to give chase.

For this piece of folly both he and I were to blame, for I was as eager as he to lay all three men by the heels. Looking back, I am ashamed that we should have been so childish, for we had won our battle and cleared our way and had only to go about to be in Vigil itself in little more than an hour. Instead of this, we went pelting through country we did not know, along roads which were so narrow that, unless the other let us, we dared not pass, in the hope, I suppose, of his being checked by traffic or meeting with some misadventure which would give him into our hand. Meanwhile we had left the servants to shift for themselves and were now but two to cope with whatever befell.

Such foolishness had its reward.

A sudden jarring told us a tyre was punctured, and, before we could come to a standstill, two more had met the same fate.

This was, of course, out of reason, unless the man we were chasing had strewn something sharp in our way. So he had done. One of his barbs or snags is before me now – a four-spiked horror of steel, which, however idly you throw it, will always stand upon three spikes and thrust the fourth into the air. Such things were once used in warfare to lame the enemy’s horse, and I afterwards found that in the Riechtenburg army they were field service stores.

We had two spare wheels, and, as luck would have it, a tube, so half an hour’s hard labour would make the car fit for the road, but I fear we were out of temper with all the world, and, when the Duke protested that we should “get on to Vigil and let the — tyres go,” I ignored the suggestion and Hanbury answered curtly that, even if it had not been ours, we should never so abuse such a car.

With that, we took off our coats and got to work, and the Duke flounced back on his seat and closed his eyes.

The Grand Duchess was down by my side.

“What can I do?” she said.

With the back of my hand I wiped the sweat from my brow. Then I took up one of the snags that had punctured our tyres.

“If you will walk back,” said I, “and look for some more things like this. I don’t know how many he dropped, but it’s hardly likely he got us the first go off.”

Before I had finished, she was gone and was searching the road.

By the time the Rolls was ready she had not returned: we, therefore, turned the car round with infinite care and started to go very slowly the way we had come.

Before we had gone half a mile, the road bent sharp to the right and then split into two, and, though George without hesitation swung to the left, I was by no means certain that that was our way. What was more to the point, it very soon became clear that, rightly or wrongly, the Grand Duchess had taken the other road, and, since she had to be found before we did anything else, we went about again and essayed the right-hand road.

Almost at once we found her, but, when George asked her if this was the way we had come, she said that, now that she had seen it, she was not sure and added that, for what it was worth, she had found no snags.

I did not know what to think, and, though George was now less certain that he had been right, we had just decided to return once more to the fork, when the Duke indicated a rill which leapt from between two rocks, as though from a mouth, and then fell into a trough which was cut from the trunk of a tree. This he declared he remembered, and, since that was very much more than anyone else could say, we considered the matter settled and drove ahead.

And that was the beginning of trouble for, when, after twenty minutes, we had proved his memory faithless and sought to return to the fork, we could by no means find it and only with every movement seemed to stray further afield.

The country was very blind and the roads rose and fell and twisted as though bewitched; there were no fingerposts to help us, and when we looked for the map it was not to be found.

After an hour of wandering, George brought the car to rest by the side of the road.

“What the hell’s the matter now?” said the Duke.

George spoke over his shoulder.

“For one thing,” he said, “I’m tired. I’ve stopped and started and turned and backed till I can’t feel the clutch. Add to that that I’ve changed two wheels and permanently injured my brain, trying to find the way which you insisted you knew.” He sighed there, and I began to shake with laughter. “Well, that’s one reason. If you want another,
we’ve exactly half a gallon of petrol left
. We had ample to get to Vigil, but I meant to fill up at the frontier – just in case. But that was before the mix-up… I don’t want to point no fingers and I’m perfectly ready to bear my share of the blame. I’ve been driving, and the dial’s right under my nose. But it’s all this mucking about that’s run us dry.”

There was an uneasy silence.

Then—

“How far,” said the Duke, “will half a gallon get us?”

George raised his eyebrows.

“In this going, employed with care, about five miles.”

With that, he turned to me and demanded a cigarette.

Other books

Ricochet (Locked & Loaded #1) by Heather C. Leigh
Ultrahuman 01 - Ugly by Niall Teasdale
Full Black by Brad Thor
Impossible Things by Robin Stevenson
The Summoning by Denning, Troy
An Untimely Frost by Penny Richards
Gold Sharks by Albert Able
Let the Devil Out by Bill Loehfelm
Blood Debt by Tanya Huff