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Authors: Dornford Yates

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Gale Warning (11 page)

BOOK: Gale Warning
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“Rouen for a monkey,” I said. “And Rouen will give him a chance of twisting our tail. When you see me take a taxi, pass the Lowland and don’t let me out of your sight.”

I saw Rowley touch his hat, and we were away.

Audrey drove like the wind till we sighted the Swindon again.

Then—

“I wish,” she said, “you wouldn’t give me these shocks.”

“Sorry,” said I. “What shocks?”

“Wasting time talking like that. Supposing the swine had turned off.”

“Across country?” said I. “A Swindon’s an automobile – not a whippet tank.”

“You took a risk,” said Audrey. “You know you did. I’ll admit you’re doing wonders, but don’t be too clever by half.”

“I love you,” I said, “when you put your chin in the air. Never mind. Not quite so fast. We’re a shade too close. And now let’s get this straight. You talk of my taking risks: you might as well blame me for breathing fast when I run. This show is the purest gamble. Whenever we take a corner, we take a risk. And all we can hope to do is to choose the lesser evil or, if you like it better, to pick the right risk to take.”

“I reserve the right to say if I think you’re wrong.”

“Of course – if we’ve time to argue. Close up a little, will you? And fall in behind that van. I’ll be able to see him all right, but he won’t see us.” As she did as I said, “I wish I knew Rouen better,” I added, thinking aloud.

“That’s not my fault,” murmured Audrey.

I set my teeth.

“We’re both on edge,” said I. “And who wouldn’t be, by God? But don’t let’s throw any stones. It’ll break my heart if we lose him, but you shall have the pieces – to jump on and grind to dust.”

She made no answer to that, and we covered two miles in silence, using the van as a screen. But every mile was taking us nearer to Rouen, and I knew that if Plato meant business and his chauffeur knew how to drive, that ancient city would help him to shake us off. As I saw it, my only chance was to pick up a taxi at once and to follow the Swindon in that. But if no taxi was waiting, or if the driver was dull…

I wiped the sweat from my face and asked Audrey to pass the van.

“He’s stepping on it,” I said. “I wish I knew why. If it’s a ruse, he’ll stop round one of these bends. If he does, we shall have to go by, but I’ll try and stop Bell.”

But though that fear rode us both and made each bend a nightmare from that time on, the Swindon held on its way till it came to a road on the left that would take it to Neufchatel.

A coppice was masking this corner in such a way that, once a car had turned it, that car could not be seen from the road we were on – unless you stood still at the junction and so gave your business away. For that reason, no doubt, it found favour in Plato’s eyes, and the Swindon slowed up to take it, as if the man who was driving was sure of his way.

I gave my covert signal to Bell to stop, and, as before, we went by, without slackening speed.

As Audrey lifted her foot, some instinct showed me something I could not see.

“Go on,” I cried, with my eyes on the road behind. “Put your foot right down. As like as not, it’s a plant.”

I felt the Lowland leap forward…

Then I saw a man’s figure appear from the mouth of the Neufchatel road. He was looking after us – I could see the white of his face. Then he turned to look back towards Bell, and I found myself praying that the Vane was not to be seen. And then we dropped down a descent and out of his view.

“Stop her now,” I said.

Audrey pulled up all standing, and I flung out of the car.

“Stand by to turn round,” I cried, and ran for the crest of the hill.

The figure was gone now, but I had no means of knowing whether the Swindon would turn or would go on to Neufchatel. I hurled myself at the bank by the side of the road… And then I was in a hayfield which had been recently mown and was rising up to a ridge some fifty yards off.

Keeping an eye on the corner, I ran for the ridge as hard as ever I could. I reached it just in time. As I breasted the rise, I saw the Swindon below me heading for Neufchatel. Then she rounded an easy bend and passed out of my sight.

I waved to Audrey to turn and stumbled back to the road.

As I took my seat by her side—

“Neufchatel,” I said. “Hang at the corner a moment, for me to signal to Bell.”

But Bell had not waited for me. Rowley had done as I had. In fact he had climbed a tree – and so had seen the Swindon stealing a march. So, though I did not know it, I made my signal in vain, for Bell and Rowley were leading, and we were behind.

More than a minute went by before I saw them ahead. And when I did, I could hardly believe my eyes, because I had supposed that they were following us.

I think perhaps this may show how very hard was the thing we were trying to do, for Bell and Rowley had done as I had told them to do and had acted without instructions, rather than let our quarry make good his escape. Yet, by taking that action, they were running between my legs and very nearly upset the plan I had made.

I stifled an oath. Then—

“It’s not their fault,” I said, “but they’re going to tear everything up. Catch them somehow, Audrey. We’re going to turn off in a mile.”

My lady let the car go…

Then one of them saw us coming, and Bell slowed up to give way.

As we went by in silence—

“Slow right down,” I said, “and then take the first to the right.”

“He’s not turned off,” said Audrey, lifting her foot.

“I know,” said I. “But the road he’s on comes round in another twelve hundred yards. This is the old road, lady. We can watch him all the way and pick him up, if we like, just short of the town. But what I want to do is to get there first.”

“I see. Please tell me one thing. Was it a plant?”

“At the corner? Yes. The chauffeur walked back and took a careful look round. I’m sorry. I ought to have told you. But what with—”

“‘Don’t speak to the man at the wheel’ is a very good rule.”

“So,” said I, “is ‘Necessity knows no law.’ Slow down at that poplar, will you? I want to check up.”

Almost at once, I saw the Swindon below. To my relief, she was not moving very fast, and I shall always believe that the fox had thought he was being followed, but now believed he had given the hounds the slip.

“All’s well,” said I. “And now let her go, my beauty. If we’re to be there before him, we’ve got to shift.”

Then I signalled to Bell to close up, and away we went.

(The signals I made to Bell were as easy to make as to read, for I had five left-hand gloves, the palms of which we had painted different colours, as vivid as we could find. Since they were gardening gloves, it took no more than an instant to slip one on. Then all that I had to do was to drop my arm over the door and open my hand, keeping its back to the Swindon and showing its palm to the Vane.)

For the first time since leaving Dieppe I now had five or six minutes in which to survey the position and look ahead, and though to devote them to Audrey would have done me more good than her, I dared not squander the respite which Chance had thrown into my lap.

At once I saw that if, as I believed, Plato had left the main road to throw any car that was trailing him off the scent, it might be taken for granted that he was making for Rouen, but going by Neufchatel. In other words, he was simply fetching a compass which would carry him into the city from the north, instead of the west.

And something else I saw: and that was that if Plato believed that he had made good his escape, it was of the utmost importance that we should give him no reason to change his mind. Though we managed to hold him in Rouen, soon after leaving that city, we should almost certainly enter a country we did not know, and if Plato were then to resume his endeavours to shake us off, either they must be successful or else he would know for certain that we were following him.

Revolving these two conclusions, I decided, with great reluctance, to split our party in two and to send Bell and Rowley ahead; for unless, when we came to Rouen, a taxi was ready and waiting to take up the chase, we should have to close on the Swindon, to keep it in view, and that, of course, would set Plato thinking again: but, if, when we came to Rouen, Rowley was in a taxi whose driver was only waiting to do as he said, and the taxi was lying in wait where the road from Neufchatel ran into the city’s streets, then the Vane could follow the taxi and we could follow the Vane, and Plato, with any luck, would see no cause for alarm.

Now all this was very well, but we were up against Time. We must be at Neufchatel before Plato arrived – if for no other reason, because the Vane must be gone before the Swindon came up. ‘Out of sight, out of mind,’ says the proverb, and a very true saying that is. Yet I had to give my instructions to Rowley and Bell: and that would take two full minutes – far more than we could afford.

With my eyes on the sunlit road, I savaged my under lip, racking my brain for some way of doing what could not be done.

And then I saw the solution, clear as the dawn. The Lowland must go on ahead, instead of the Vane, and Rowley must drive with Audrey, and I with Bell.

I could give my instructions to Audrey, here and now: then Rowley and I could change places – a matter of seconds only, if we were quick: and the Lowland could go on to Rouen, instead of the Vane.

My lady did not like it, but neither did I. There was no time to argue: and, what I found ten times worse, there was no time to explain.

As she brought the Lowland to rest and the Vane ran up alongside—

“Change places with me, Rowley.” I was standing beside her window, before he had taken his seat.

“Good luck, my darling. Till Rouen.”

But Audrey looked straight ahead and let in her clutch…

We ran into Neufchatel with sixty seconds to spare: but when the Swindon appeared, the Lowland was gone, the Vane was in a blind alley behind a cart, and I was across the street inside a small greengrocer’s shop.

For one unforgettable moment, it looked as though the Swindon was going to take a turning which led to the Beauvais road – a hideous gesture, which took a month from my life. Then the chauffeur saw his mistake, or his master put him right, and I watched him pull his car round with the sweat running down my face.

And then he was bound for Rouen, and I was out on the pavement, and Bell was bringing the Vane from her hiding-place – and a most insistent old lady was forcing upon me six pounds of good-looking potatoes and the change from a fifty-franc note.

The arrangements which I had made for Plato’s reception at Rouen seemed to me to warrant a much less pressing pursuit; so, though we were careful to keep the pace which the Swindon set, we stayed a good distance behind her and only came up rather closer when she was approaching cross roads. Though I cannot honestly say that Bell could drive as could Audrey, I very soon found that he knew every trick of the trade, and the way in which he used other traffic as cover from view showed me not only how much I had yet to learn, but that this was not the first time that he had shadowed a car. Indeed, it was very soon clear that until we came to Rouen, I should have little to do and could, so to speak, put up my feet, if I felt that way.

It seems a small thing now, but it seemed a great thing then that the only time that day when I could at all relax should have had to be spent by me away from Audrey, with whom I was so anxious to put things straight. It is easy enough to say that she ought to have understood – should not have taken it ill that I left her out of my counsels and made no more of her than I did of Rowley and Bell. But there was no reason at all why she should have understood: and it was very natural that she should have taken my change of behaviour ill. For more than a month, we had made ready together for what was happening now. Day after day we had roved this very country, and I had made her free of my hopes and fears. From dawn to dusk we had worked and consulted together, weighing this contingency, measuring that. And now when the day had come to put into practice the theories which she and I had composed, I treated her as a hired chauffeur – whose job was to take my orders and hold his tongue. Little wonder she felt aggrieved; and that though she did her duty as well as it could have been done, such treatment bore very hard on as proud a spirit as dwelled in a woman’s flesh. That I, who worshipped her footsteps, should have had no choice but to use her in this despiteful way was, when I had time to think, a very depressing thought: but the present realization that now, having sent her on, I had thrown away a fair chance of setting the matter to rights made me vow such vengeance on Plato and all his works as would, I think, have found favour in Satan’s exacting sight.

However, there was nothing to be done. So, with trembling fingers, I lighted a cigarette and began to picture the country which lay south and east of Rouen and to try to make up my mind whereabouts to drop our pilot, the taxi, and take up the running again.

Then the short thirty miles were over, and the suburbs of Rouen were there, and the city was hanging below us, astride of a bend of the Seine.

I was watching the Swindon slow up, to let a waggon go by before passing a furniture-van, when a taxi fell in behind her and a moment later the Lowland slipped out of a builder’s yard.

At once Bell closed on the Lowland, and so the procession took shape: but though all had started so well, when I saw the first of the traffic, the palms of my hands grew hot, for I knew in my heart that we only needed one check to turn our cake back into dough.

I will not set out the dance which the Swindon led us, because I shall always believe it was undesigned: but to follow a man who must not know you are there, who rates too high what sense of direction he has – and this, through the streets of a city which might have been built to mislead… I can only say this – that till then I had thought I could drive: but when I saw Audrey’s performance, let alone Bell’s, then I knew that handling a car may be raised from a game of skill to one of the finer arts.

Be that as it may, after thirteen dreadful minutes, which seemed more like forty-five, the Swindon entered the
place
which lies like a little apron before the Cathedral’s door. And there her chauffeur had ‘parked’ her before we could think, leaving us stuck in a street which was inconveniently narrow and overfull.

BOOK: Gale Warning
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