Storm Music (1934) (4 page)

EIGHT hours had gone by, and I was sitting at Villach, in the driver's seat of the Rolls. My cousin was on the platform, but the car was berthed in the shadows, perhaps a hundred yards from the station's door.

The train from Salzburg steamed out. As its rumble faded I saw a flash from a lamp, and thirty seconds later I drew up beside the pavement where Geoffrey and Barley stood.

Without a word being spoken our baggage was lifted aboard, and as Barley climbed in my cousin sat down by my side.

"Let her go, John."

Two minutes later the Rolls stole out of town.

Ten miles on we pulled up by the side of the road.

The night was perfect and all the winds were still. The heaven was one great hatchment flaunting in all its splendour that lovely mystery of bearings we call the stars. The countryside was sleeping, and. but for a sentinel owl, we might have had the world to ourselves.

I felt my cousin nudge me. Then he lifted his voice.

"Anything to report, Barley?"

The answer came pat. Geoffrey had previously told Barley to say that he had seen Pharaoh at Salzburg so that we should go to Salzburg and thereby avoid meeting the gang.

"No, sir. Nothing at all."

My cousin sat very still. Then he slewed himself round in his seat.

"That's strange," he said. "I’d half an idea that you might perhaps have seen someone— someone you thought you knew."

"No sir," said Barley firmly. "No one "

"Look here," said Geoffrey, "before you left—"

A desperate voice cut him short.

"Could I see you alone, sir, a moment?"

"You can speak the truth here and now. Mr. Spencer isn't going. We're all three going to stay."

"Very good, sir. Then I seen Pharaoh. And Dewdrop beside. I’ll swear it was them. In Salzburg this afternoon. Come out of the station, they did as I walked in."

If Barley's news had given us something to go on. it pointed the wisdom of acting without delay. This for two very good reasons. In the first place, Salzburg for Pharaoh was dangerous ground, for anyone moving in Salzburg must plainly be under the hand of the Salzburg police: if, therefore, we could find him and then arouse suspicion sufficient to have him detained, although he might put up a fight, his race was as good as run. Secondly, it seemed pretty certain that Pharaoh had split his force and that Rush and Bugle were yet in the countryside; and that meant that if we could find them, we should only have two men to deal with, and those very ordinary thieves.

I will not set out our discussion of these very obvious points, for fully three hours had gone by before with many misgivings our plans were laid. This may seem something foolish, but it must be remembered that we had a great deal at stake, and the fear of abusing a chance which might not return continually haunted our efforts to make up our minds. In the end, however, we came to certain decisions and since we stuck to these. I will say what they were.

Early the following morning Geoffrey and Barley and I were to visit "The Reaping Hook": that Bugle and Rush would be gone we had no doubt, but we had some hope of tracing the damaged car. If this should lead us up to the men we sought we should at once give battle and do our best to lay the two by the heels; but unless by midday we had picked up some definite clue, then Geoffrey and Barley would leave for Salzburg by train, while I remained at Plumage, lying low during the daytime and patrolling the roads about Yorick from dusk to dawn.

"And I give you my word," said Geoffrey, "if only you'll mind your step I think you're more likely to get there than Barley and I. We've got to search a city, and we don't know where to begin, for until we've placed our men it would be asking for trouble to go to the police. But your field is much more narrow. In the first place, Yorick's a loadstone, and Bugle and Rush will naturally turn that way; then, again, to get to Yorick they'll have to make use of a car, but they won't drive any nearer than the edge of the Yorick estate; thirdly, you've got a car, too that's a great deal more swift and more silent than anything they can produce But you simply must watch your step. You're out to get information, not to attack If you find them you must not strike; lie low and see them home, and then drive all out for Salzburg and Barley and me Will you give me your word to do that? And always to be back at Plumage before it's light?"

I gave him my solemn word, but I knew in my heart that he would never have left me if he had thought it likely that I should find Bugle and Rush, and that, though he disliked the idea of my working alone, he was doing his best to choose the lesser evil and to keep me away from Pharaoh at any price. And there you have Geoffrey Bohun He was a famous painter and I was an unknown boy; but the unknown boy was his ward and because of that he must cover me with his body and. if occasion arose, must offer his life for mine. He had done it at Annabel; and now he was going to Salzburg to do it again. Still, to argue would have been useless; besides, it was perfectly clear that someone must stay at Plumage for Helena's sake; and since Geoffrey was far better fitted to deal with the police of Salzburg— to say nothing of "combing" a city with which he was familiar, which I hardly knew— and since, to be honest, to be out of touch with Helena would have worried me out of my life, I accepted the plan without a murmur and silently made up my mind by hook or by crook to run my two men to earth; for then, as I saw it, we had only to pick our position and sit down and wait, because, sooner or later, Pharaoh would come to join them, and the lour would be at our mercy for what that was worth.

Thanks to my lady's foresight, we could now send word to Yorick without any waste of time, and before we left the next morning our groom was on his way to the castle. bearing a note from my cousin in which he had set out our plan As the fellow swung into the greenwood. I drove the Rolls off the apron and turned to go down to the bridge

It was barely eight o'clock when we ran into Annabel.

By Geoffrey's direction I stopped the car at cross roads cut of sight of "The Reaping Hook"; then he and Barley descended and walked as far as the forge which was walling one side of the forecourt that graced the inn; and there Geoffrey stood by the corner while Barley walked up to the house

As luck would have it, a servant was washing the steps and a word from Barley brought him to Geoffrey's side.

Then my cousin turned and waved, and I brought up the Rolls, for, as we had fully expected the birds were flown. One minute later we were speaking to the host and his wife.

Now we had had no doubt that the moment we mentioned their late undesirable guests the two would be only too ready to talk themselves hoarse; but we were not prepared for the spate of incoherence which our casual inquiry unloosed. The two were simply bursting to vent such a volume of grievance as I can only compare to the burden of Christian's sins: and we, so to speak, had opened the safety-valve. Interrupt them we could not, for they had no ears to hear; but they raved and shrilled and wept, like a couple of lunatics, now contradicting each other, now bearing each other out, now calling each other to witness and now disputing fiercely some wholly irrelevant fact, but generally outbidding each other in their efforts to record the failings which Pharaoh and his brethren had betrayed. Since we were there to listen, there was clearly nothing to do but let the storm blow itself out, and when we had heard them in silence for what seemed a quarter of an hour and had inspected the spots at which violence had been committed or damage done, we ventured to put the questions which we had come to ask.

The strangers were gone. What was the order of their going, and what had become of their car?

Our words might have been a spell.

I have never seen human beings so suddenly change their tune. As though we had turned some tap, the fountain of talk stopped dead; all their excitement died an immediate death, and the two became as crafty and sullen as though we had come to trap them and do them some evil turn.

They had seen nothing at all. One minute the strangers were there, and the next they were gone. They had not seen them go; they knew nothing of any car; when we spoke of its being disabled, they glanced at one another and shook their heads.

"Scared stiff." said Geoffrey shortly, and went off to probe the servants— to no avail.

And here for the first time, I think. I felt an admiration for Pharaoh against my will. I do not know how he had spoken or what were the threats he used; but, though he was gone, he had left a fear behind him which nothing we could do could resolve. Though they would, I believe, have abused him until the sun went down, not one word would these people breathe which might help us in our quest. We had used them well, and Pharaoh had used them ill. But not all our kindness could open the mouths which Pharaoh had shut.

In silence we returned to the Rolls.

As we took our seats:

"One to Pharaoh," said Geoffrey. "I admit they're a shade Boeotian, but I'm damned if I could have muzzled them half so tight. And now for Plumage and Villach. At least, this means we can catch an earlier train."

Four hours later I bade my cousin farewell.

"I trust you," he said, "to play the part of Odysseus, and not the part of a fool. Carry that pistol by night and never put down the catch unless and until you've made up your mind to fire. And the torch in your other pocket. Don't use the torch without thinking: its light may be convenient, but it's apt to give you away. Wire me each morning from Yorick, and don't try and do without sleep— this air's too strong. And If you should light on our friends, for the love of heaven don't rush it. A waiting game isn't easy, but the fellow that plays it best will always win. And now you get back to Plumage. If on the way you should see a car you suspect, show them the way to shift, but on no account go straight home. I needn't stress the importance of keeping our quarters hid."

I made my way back to the car, where Barley was playing watchman till I should come. As I took my seat:

"Goodbye and good luck, Barley."

"The same to you, sir, I'm sure."

"Don't let Mr. Bohun get hurt. He talks about me. but he doesn't know what fear is. If you'd seen him at Annabel... "

Barley sucked in his breath.

"I wish I 'ad," he said grimly. "There'd 'ave been one less of them thieves."

HELENA glanced at her wrist and folded the map.

We were sitting by the water at Plumage, and had been for half an hour, for when I got back from saying goodbye to Geoffrey, a note from my lady was waiting to say that I might expect her at five o'clock.

"Do you think you can find your way?"

"I think so," said I.

"By night, without lights, upon roads that you've never seen?"

"If I make mistakes it won't matter. When I've felt my way round twice I'll know where I am."

"And then?"

"I propose to watch certain points the turning to Lass, for instance, and the coppice that you call Starlight: that's where the road runs closest to Yorick itself."

"And the car?"

"I'll find some track or other and park her there."

Helena drew in her breath.

"And supposing they're there before you and watch you arrive ... They'll let you park the car and steal back to the road. They'll let you pick your position and settle down ... And tomorrow at dawn they'll be digging another grave."

"Be honest," said I, laughing. "Why on earth should Rush and his fellow be watching these roads?"

"I don't care," said Helena swiftly.

"It isn't a one-man job. Mr. Bohun must be out of his mind. Will you take Sabre with you? At least, he'll give you warning if anyone else is at hand."

"I will, indeed," said I, "if you think he'll come. But why should he stay with me, Lady Helena?"

Helena tilted her chin.

"He does as I tell him," she said. Then, "I think you might drop the 'Lady.' You'll find that I answer to 'Helena' just as well. May I call you 'John,' please?"

"Yes, Helena."

As I spoke, my heart leaped up, as I think any man's would have done, for she seemed to have handed me up to the dais on which she stood.

She called, and the dog came bounding. Then she put an arm around his neck and pointed to me.

"John," she said. "That's John."

Sabre regarded me straitly; then he lifted his muzzle and touched her hair.

"Go to him, Sabre. John, sit perfectly still."

Slowly the dog left her and moved to my side.

Helena got to her knees. Then she took my arm and set it about the dog's neck.

"Now speak to him. John."

"Sabre," I said. "Sabre."

The dog's muzzle fell to my knee; then he sniffed my body and moved his tail; then he licked my hand and lay down by my side.

As I stroked his splendid shoulders my lady sat back on the grass.

"He's your friend for life now," she said. "But he must come back for his dinner before he goes out with you. What time are you leaving here?"

"About ten o'clock," said I.

"D'you think you can find the mouth of the entrance drive?"

"I can hardly miss that," said I.

"Sabre shall be there tonight at a quarter-past ten."

I laid myself back on the turf.

"And I'm not to thank you," I said. "I stay at your house; I ride your horses; and now I'm to have your dog. As partnerships go, it seems to be rather one-sided."

"That," said my lady, "is foolish. What am I doing that, if you were placed as I am, you wouldn't be glad to do?"

"That ought to be the answer," said I, "but when I add everything up— well, I don't get that answer at all."

"What answer do you get?"

For a moment I stared at the sky. Then:

"You're treating us royally, aren't you? Well, that, my addition says, is because your nature is royal. Yesterday you said that your father had thrown back. Well, so have you, Helena. Years ago, if the king liked the look of a beggar, he didn't give him a penny he threw him his purse. But if he didn't like him, he rode him down. I— I think you quite like us, you know."

"I see. And if I didn't?"