Fire Below (6 page)

His scowl slid into a stare, and I heard him cry out. And that was all, for I was gone as fast as my gears would let me and had pushed the car up to sixty before thirty seconds had passed.

I spoke to Bell.

‘Can you see him?’

‘Oh no, sir. The last I saw he was turning. We must have a good minute’s start.’

‘A good minute…’

‘Tell Mr Hanbury to guide me. He’s got the map.’

As I spoke, George put out his head.

‘Take the first to your right,’ he said. ‘And then the first to your left. And keep your foot right down. We’re leaving a trail of dust about three miles long, and unless we can leave him standing it’s simply a paper-chase.’

Now, dust or no, I was very certain that we had the faster car. Provided, therefore, that we met with no serious check, I judged we should shake off pursuit in nine or ten miles. If then we could only vanish
within reach of the bridle-path
, we still had a chance of escaping that very night.

I was less afraid of a check than of losing our way, for we were now over the railway and at this time of year the flocks were upon the hills; but the country was unfamiliar and very blind, and the roads seemed devoid of signposts of any sort. Though the map was true, George was now forced to read it at lightning speed, and to decide in an instant which was the way we sought, and though he was careful never to hold me up, but to give me directions as coolly as though we were riding to hounds, I knew as well as he did that, except he knew the country, no man born of woman could guide a car going so fast.

We flicked through a nameless village and over a hunchback bridge; we were checked by a yoke of oxen passing from gate to gate, each second seeming a minute until the road was clear; for a mile and a half we flung up a twisting lane, so girt and narrow that had we met but a hand-cart we could not have passed; we dropped down into a valley, sped by green water-meadows and switched to the right; we sang up a serpentine hill and into a range of beechwoods that ran for a lady’s mile; and we swung to the left at crossroads where – hardship of hardships – a signpost had been blown down.

Of such was that nightmare drive, and when, after thirty minutes, we came to a sudden thicket with a track leading into its heart, I was as ready as George was to, so to speak, go to ground.

Indeed, before he had spoken, I had set my foot on the brake, for if we had come as we wished, we could not be far from the frontier and we might go another ten miles before we found shelter like this.

One minute later we were deep in the wood.

At once I stopped the engine, and all of us sat very still, but all the sounds we could hear were those of the countryside, the twitter of the birds about us and the splash of a neighbouring rill and somewhere, a long way off the lowing of cows.

‘Blind leading the blind,’ said George, quietly. ‘We’ve beaten Grieg, but I’ve no idea where we are.’

The daylight we had so much deplored was now the best friend we had, for unless we had found our bearings before night fell, we could not hope to be out of the country by dawn.

We, therefore, sent back Bell to destroy any traces there might be of our entrance into the wood, while the rest of us left the car to follow the track afoot. This soon gave into a meadow which sloped to an idle stream, but on every side rose woodland and we might have stood in some courtyard, for all the way we could see.

We saw no sign of habitation or even of husbandry, and, as soon as Bell had come up, we made our way through the meadow and over the stream. This was happily shallow, and George carried Marya over without a word.

Strangely enough it was our crossing of this water that first brought home to me the truth that we were fugitives, and I still remember the shock of that apprehension and the curious, hunted feeling that gripped my heart.

By our treatment of the sovereign we stood guilty of a high misdemeanour, and while two hours ago only some trumped up charge could have been made against us – if, indeed, we were to have been dealt with by any competent court – we had now unmasked against us the heaviest artillery of the law of the land, and if we were taken, nothing on earth could save us from some most miserable fate. The thought that the Countess would share our punishment was insupportable; for though we were all guiltless, and though to this day I cannot see what choice we had but to hold up his Royal Highness and take his car, Marya Dresden had shrunk from such a trespass and had only abetted our action against her will.

For an instant, looking upon her slight figure, I felt the cold breath of panic.

For her sake only we
must
make good our escape. Failure was not to be thought of. By some means, before dawn came, we must stand upon Austrian soil.

It was now past seven o’clock, and the sun was low.

It was therefore arranged that the Countess, with Bell and Carol, should stay in a little dell which ran down to the stream, while George and I set out to find some landmark which we could recognize. Failing this, we must question some peasant, to learn our way, but we hoped to be able to find it without such help, for fear of leaving traces which Grieg who would soon be behind us would be glad to pick up.

We did not like splitting our party, yet felt it most important that the Countess should save her strength; besides, we had not yet determined to abandon the car, for if we should find that we were miles out of our reckoning, we might have no choice but again to take to the roads.

As fast as we could, we climbed to the top of the woods, to discover our view obstructed on every side; and when we had plunged to a valley and had struggled, panting, to the crest of another ridge, there was nothing but woodland before us which two miles ahead swelled into a range of hills. There were mountain and glade and forest and the flash of a stream, but never a road or so much as a curl of smoke, or even cattle straying to argue a neighbouring farm.

‘No good,’ said George shortly. ‘If we go any further we’ll probably lose ourselves. Besides, time’s getting on. We must go back and try the track.’

By the time we were back in the dell, it was nearly eight o’clock, and the sun was down.

Now, the track running roughly east – that is, away from Vigil and towards the frontier we sought – it seemed best that all should take it, for, come what might, we should not be going directly out of our way, and since we had lost near an hour, we dared not make use of the car for which every village by now would be on the lookout.

So Bell and I put off our borrowed plumes, and the former gave Carol his overalls to cover his butler’s dress.

A moment later our anxious march had begun.

Here, I should say that, while George and I had been gone, the dog had strayed into the shadows and had not come back. This was as well. We had only taken him with us to save the poor brute from the vengeance his raging master would have been certain to take, and since there was no name upon his collar, we hoped he would soon be attached to some happier home.

Half an hour went by before we sighted a farm, and the rest of us lay in the bracken, while George went on with Carol to learn the truth. When they came back, George had the map in his hand, but we could not see to read it, and Bell had to bring out his torch.

The farm was the home-farm of some Baron Sabre’s estate, upon which, of course, we had been wandering ever since we left the car. As near as we could make it, the bridle-path we were seeking lay twelve miles off. And that was as the crow flies.

There was a dreadful silence.

Then—

‘What’s twelve miles?’ said Marya. ‘Come on. We’re wasting time.’

I will not set out our progress, for though I shall never forget it, fleeing on foot by night is a business which anyone can picture, and one mile differs but little from that which has gone before; but we very soon decided that we must take to the roads, for, after a spell across country, the Countess for all her spirit began to flag. Besides, it was easier so to keep our way. After eight dragging miles we fell in with a country cart of which the driver was, happily, drunk as a lord. We, therefore, bundled him into the back of his gig, and Carol drove the Countess, while George and Bell and I took it in turns to ride and to shamble behind.

On the farther side of Vardar we left the cart, and, taking the road we had trodden the morning before, hastened along in silence towards our goal.

The time was now two o’clock, and the bridle-path was less than a mile away. I will swear we had been seen by no man, and though two cars had passed us, they had both gone by at high speed and had not seemed to be searching the countryside. If Marya could but continue, our race was as good as won.

From the mouth of the bridle-path to the waterfall was by no means difficult going, but very steep, and I judged that this lap would take us an hour and a half. That meant that day would have broken before we had reached the Rolls, but, once we were over the border, we did not care, for time would be of no moment, and if it seemed best to lie in the woods till dusk – well, what was a few hours’ hunger to a few years’ lying in jail?

Indeed, we were all exultant, for the strain of finding our way was overpast, and the knowledge that the two hours of darkness that still remained were more than enough to see us out of the country made us a cordial which was rarer than any wine.

Speaking for myself, my weariness seemed to have left me, and the spring came back into my steps and as I turned to look back at the light of the level-crossing on which we had gazed near twenty-four hours before, I saw the humour of our venture and found it rather amusing to have ‘singed the King of Spain’s beard.’

Then Bell, who was leading, came back to say that ahead were lights which were not those of a dwelling, yet did not move.

The slightest reconnaissance was sufficient to teach us the truth.

The lights were those of two tenders, belonging to Riechtenburg troops. They were standing not twenty feet from the mouth of the bridle-path. This was picketed. I could see the movement of soldiers about a fire. And when I crept closer, I heard a sergeant reporting how he had placed his men.

‘In addition to that, sir,’ he concluded, ‘there are the visiting patrols. I will take my oath that no one can pass our line.’

‘Very good,’ said his officer. ‘And, damn it, mighty quick work. How long is it since we got here?’

‘Just twenty-five minutes, sir,’ was the proud reply.

Regret was vain. But if it was vain, it was bitter as the salt of the sea.

Our mistakes stood out as glaring as shadows thrown upon a screen, and, prime among them, our folly of leaving the car.

That error was, of course, prodigious, and how we came to make it I do not know; but I think that to Grieg must go the credit of making us lose our race.

Our meeting with the man so shook us as to magnify out of reason the risk we ran of pursuit; and so we swerved from our objective, and, turning from the vital business of gaining the bridle-path, made sure of the trifling matter of covering up our tracks.

Be that as it may, we were beaten, and, though for one frantic moment I was for making an attempt to pass the sentries, the Countess’ exhausted condition forbade so forlorn a hope.

Now if we were not to be taken as soon as day broke, we must instantly seek some shelter and indeed be gone into hiding within two hours, for, if troops had been sent to guard the frontier against us, it went without saying that the country would be scoured to find us and that the drive would begin the moment the daylight came. We, therefore, tried to consider which way we had better go, to find ourselves in a very sea of troubles, with nothing to show us which way we had better turn.

Between where we stood and Vardar the country was very open and dotted with farms, and the nearest shelter we knew was the wood in which we had rested by the side of the railway line. And that lay some six miles off – a distance which, without Madame Dresden, I doubt if we could have covered before it was light. Yet, had we been able to make it, what sort of bulwark was a wood when the country was up against us and troops were out? Then, again, we had none of us eaten for nearly twelve hours and, if we avoided capture by lying hid, where was our food to come from, and how could we live? Finally, though it was summer, the nights were fresh, and Madame Dresden, already in need of succour, could never stand an exposure such as not even the peasants were called upon to endure.

We had all but given up hope, when I remembered Ramon, the smith whose forge was at Gola, three miles away.

One minute later we were hastening towards the village we could not see.

I must confess that I had small hope of success.

I was sure that the man was grateful, but we were about to set him a task which he could not perform. To harbour and feed five strangers in the teeth of the law… Here was work for a noble, with a mansion and trusty servants to do as he said. A village blacksmith could no more do it than fly. Still, he might take in the countess, and Carol might pose as his workman and, being a man of the country, pass unremarked as a helper attached to the forge.

These and such thoughts thrust into and out of my brain, though, what with the shock of disappointment, the danger the dawn was bringing and our weariness of body and soul, I found myself unable to think to any purpose and very soon gave myself up to the business of reaching Gola and finding the forge.

This we did at a quarter past three, and none too soon, for the cocks were already crowing, and the grey of the dawn was stealing over the hills.

The village was very small and seemed to have but one street, but the forge was the first of its houses and stood by itself. For this we were very thankful, for the smith must be awakened, and we had no wish to rouse neighbours upon whom we had no claim.

He must have been a light sleeper, for as I stood back from the oak upon which I had rapped, a window was opened above me and somebody put out his head.

‘Ramon,’ says George, ‘we’re in trouble. If you would like to help us, come down and open your door.’

‘I come,’ said the other quietly, and disappeared.

Not until we were in the kitchen and Ramon’s wife was chafing the Countess’ hands, did I understand what the latter had undergone. She was by no means fragile, but the strain of the last ten hours had brought her to the edge of collapse, and though she still smiled, she had the air of a runner that has run himself out. Her needs required no statement, and, before we had told her story, Bell was helping the smith to kindle a fire and Carol had been sent to the larder for brandy and milk and bread.

The warmth of the fire revived her, and, thinking it best to leave her to the care of the woman alone, we asked the smith to take us into the forge. And there by the glow of the coals, to the wheeze of the aged bellows we told that good man the truth.

He showed no surprise at our story, still less any fear, but when he heard that I was Leonie’s husband, he seemed to regard me as her consort and so entitled to share the esteem and affection in which she had always been held. Indeed, he would have it that the Prince was afraid of a movement to set up my wife in his stead and so was scheming to put us both out of the way, ‘for that,’ said he, ‘would be treason, and you have just told me, my lord, that he gave your conduct that name.’

I shrugged my shoulders and let him have his way.

‘Will you shelter the Countess, Ramon? And keep her man?’

‘That is easy enough, my lord. God forgive me, but I am known as a smuggler, and no one hereabouts is astonished if we sit down to breakfast one morning four souls instead of two.’

‘Then that is settled,’ said I. ‘And now can you recommend shelter for us that are left. If it’s not too far, we can make it before the dawn.’

As I spoke, I heard hoofs in the street and a moment later someone was kicking the shutters which kept the mouth of the forge.

‘Troopers,’ breathed George. ‘Who else would knock up a smith?’

Without a word Ramon left us to seek the door of the house, while George slunk close to the shutters to hear what was said.

Before we had recovered our wits, he was asking in broken German to have a horse shod and swearing that he would pay double if the smith would do it at once.

‘You must wait until daylight,’ said Ramon. ‘I cannot yet see.’

‘Not I,’ said the other roughly. ‘You must do it by candle-light. I tell you, I’ll pay you double–’

‘At dawn,’ said Ramon shortly and shut the door.

As he re-entered the forge—

‘Who on earth is that?’ said George. ‘And what is he doing here?’

‘He is out of the circus,’ said Ramon. ‘I heard it was here. They passed through Elsa last night and are going to a pitch beyond Vardar, to give their show. But they must have been delayed by the way, for they ought to be there by now and taking their rest.’

‘And so we should,’ said the voice we had heard before, ‘if we hadn’t been stopped for three hours by the — police. There’s something the matter with this country. Never again. And now come on and open.’

Not to be denied, the fellow had entered the house and stood in the little passage that led from the kitchen to the forge.

As Ramon began to protest, I heard the ring of a hoof and a frightened snort.

The next minute all was Bedlam.

By the mercy of God the Countess was gone upstairs, for the kitchen was full of two horses, and one of them cast.

I suppose, being circus horses, they were more bold than most, for they had clearly followed their master in.

Since the street-door led out of the kitchen, they had no hail to cross, and once they were in, no doubt the door had swung to, for when I got there it was shut, and the horse that was still on its feet was essaying the stairs.

As luck would have it, George and Bell and I were well used to horses. But for this chance, I do not know what would have happened, for the kitchen was very small and the poor beasts were mad with fright. Add to this that the one that was cast at once kicked over the table on which stood the candlesticks so that only the fire remained to illumine the scene. Had the smith and the stranger been alone, one or the other would, I believe, have been killed, for it took the five of us all our knowledge and strength to save the horses and get them into the street.

When the flurry was over, their master wiped his face. ‘I’ve a lot to thank you for,’ he said, peering. ‘Those horses are worth five hundred pounds apiece. Stroke o’ luck your being here.’ He hesitated. ‘Not out of a job are you? My shoeing-smith’s down with typhoid, and two of my grooms were stopped at the frontier post. Their passports were out of order. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how to get on.’

He spoke in English. No doubt in the confusion we had given ourselves away.

‘Yes,’ said I suddenly. ‘We’re all three out of a job.’ I turned to Ramon. ‘Let him into the forge,’ I said.

Once in the forge, the circus-master looked round.

‘I ask no questions,’ he said. ‘I’m too damned glad to have you. I’ll give you three shillings a day and find your food.’

There was a moment’s silence.

‘Where is your train?’ said George.

‘By the side of the road,’ said the other. ‘Five miles the wrong side of Vardar. Why do you ask?’

‘Because,’ said George, ‘we’d better be getting on. You don’t want us here, and I guess you’ve plenty of horses that need to be watered and fed.’

‘So,’ said the other quietly. ‘Well, I daresay you’re right. All cats are grey in the dark, aren’t they?’

‘Exactly,’ said George.

The circus-master laughed.

‘Seems I fetched up at a very convenient time. What do they want you for?’

‘A girl was in trouble,’ said George. ‘We had the nerve to help her out of this cursed land.’

‘Good enough,’ said the other shortly.

Then he told us how to get to the circus, and, when we were there, to report to a man called Bach.

‘Pitch him some yarn or other. He’s very dense. And then get on with the feeding as quick as you can. Watch out for a mare called Ada; she’s got ill will.’

‘In two minutes’ time,’ said George. ‘We must have a word with the smith.’

Ramon was with his wife, who was doing her best, poor woman, to put her kitchen to rights. The countess it seemed had slept through the hullabaloo.

Hurriedly we told him our plan.

‘We should be safe,’ said I, ‘for, as you heard, the police have been through his vans and I don’t think it’s very likely they’ll trouble to do it again. When the Countess awakes, tell her, and say that as soon as it’s safe we’ll come again. They can’t guard the frontier for ever. And once the stir has died down, we’ll cross by night. Till then, will you keep her safe?’

‘I will, my lord,’ said Ramon.

Against his will I gave him what money I had.

‘That’s for expenses. Carol must be clad as a peasant, and I think it would be as well if her ladyship changed her clothes. And now we must go. If you want us, you know where to find us. If we don’t come before then, send us word the moment the troops are withdrawn.’

Then we spoke to Carol and told him to serve his mistress as best he could and that as Ramon said he must do in every particular.

Thirty seconds later we were out of the house.

It was broad daylight before we reached the train, and I shall ever remember the feeling of thankfulness with which we stepped in among the horses and asked for Bach.

The latter seemed dazed – I imagine, for want of sleep, and I doubt if he heard the story we tried to tell; in any event, he was past caring who we were or whence we came, so we were to help him in a labour which Hercules might have shirked. He had but two stable boys that were fast asleep, and more than thirty horses were in his charge, all of them good to look at and most of them cross.

We told him what Reubens had said – for that, we learned was the circus-master’s name – and hearing the song of a brook behind a hedge, asked him to give us buckets and fell to work.

By the time that Reubens was back, all the horses had been properly watered and fed; five minutes later the circus was under way.

From then till the show was over, no one, so far as I saw, either rested or ate; myself, I have never worked harder in all my life, and had we not broken our fast before we started, we could not, I think, have endured such gruelling toil. That everyone was too busy, and later too much exhausted, to trouble about new faces was very clear, and I think that half the circus were strangers to one another and that life was too hard for the members of that unhappy fellowship to take any interest in any affairs but their own.

Indeed, if only the police did not repeat their visit, we seemed to be safe, for our time was spent in the horse-lines, from which the public was barred, and Reubens did not suggest that we should enter the ring.

Before the evening performance we had a short rest and were able to eat some rations which Bach produced. Whilst we were eating, Reubens came down the lines, tricked out in a ringmaster’s dress, to say that the tents would be struck at eleven o’clock and that we should leave at midnight for Janes, twelve miles away.

There was nothing to be said: but Janes was twelve miles from Vigil, from which we were now twenty-four.

When the Jew was gone, we sought to consider our plight.

We could not get out of the country: therefore, we must lie hid. So long as we stayed with the circus, we were comparatively safe. That the circus was moving westward was most unfortunate: for one thing, we were leaving the Countess: for another, each step that we took would have to be later retraced.

We bitterly repented that we had not thought to tell Ramon where we had left the Rolls and bade him take out the Countess the instant the troops were withdrawn. This would have been common sense, but the stress of the moment had played the deuce with our wits, and now, like all the others, that chance was gone.

There was nothing to be done.

After a little we lay down and slept like the dead – for less than an hour.

At eleven o’clock that night we assisted to strike the tents, and shortly after midnight we shambled on to the road.

From Janes we went to Vigil.

Our pitch lay west of the city, some two miles out. Our feelings may be imagined, yet what could we do?

We saw no papers, heard nothing of what was happening, feared to inquire. We could not communicate with Madame Dresden, still less with Leonie. Lest we be recognized, we dared not leave the horse-lines, much less dared leave the circus, for without some means of transport we could not even reach Gola during the night.