CHAPTER XI
UNDER THE GROUND
Day and night were the same to the occupant of the little room. Theypassed with equal slowness and impartial darkness. Five days that hecould account for crawled by before anything unusual happened to breakthe strain of his solitary, inexplicable confinement. He could tell whenit was morning by the visit of a bewhiskered chambermaid with a deepbass voice, who carried a lighted candle and kicked him intowakefulness. The second day after his incarceration began, he was givenfood and drink. It was high time, for he was almost famished.Thereafter, twice a day, he was led into the larger room and given asurprisingly hearty meal. Moreover, he was allowed to bathe his face andhands and indulge in half an hour's futile stretching of limbs. Afterthe second day few questions were asked by the men who had originallyset themselves up as inquisitors. At first they had treated him with aharshness that promised something worse, but an incident occurred on theevening of the second day that changed the whole course of theirintentions.
Peter Brutus had just voiced the pleasure of the majority by urging thenecessity for physical torture to wring the government's secrets fromthe prisoner. King, half famished, half crazed by thirst, had beenlistening to the fierce argument through the thin door that separatedthe rooms. He heard the sudden, eager movement toward the door of hiscell, and squared himself against the opposite wall, ready to fight tothe death. Then there came a voice that he recognised.
A woman was addressing the rabid conspirators in tones of deadlyearnestness. His heart gave a bound. It was the first time since hisincarceration that he had heard the voice of Olga Platanova, she who hadwarned him, she who still must be his friend. Once more he threw himselfto the floor and glued his ear to the crack; her voice had not thestrident qualities of the other women in this lovely company.
"You are not to do this thing," she was saying. King knew that she stoodbetween her companions and the door. "You are not to touch him! Do youhear me, Peter Brutus? All of you?"
There followed the silence of stupefaction, broken at last by a voicewhich he recognised as that of old man Spantz.
"Olga! Stand aside!"
"No! You shall not torture him. I have said he is no spy. I still sayit. He knows nothing of the police and their plans. He has not beenspying upon us. I am sure of it."
"How can you be sure of it?" cried a woman's voice, harsh and strident.
"He has played with you," sneered another.
"I will not discuss the point. I know he is not what you say he is. Youhave no right to torture him. You have no right to hold him prisoner."
"God, girl, we cannot turn him loose now. He must never go free again.He must die." This was from Spantz.
"We cannot release him, I grant you," she said, and Truxton's heartsank. "Not now, but afterward, yes. When it is all over he can do noharm. But, hear me now, all of you. If he is harmed in any way, if he ismaltreated, or if you pursue this design to starve him, I shall notperform my part of the work on the 26th. This is final."
For a full minute, it seemed to King, no one spoke.
"You cannot withdraw," exclaimed Peter Brutus. "You are pledged. You aresworn. It is ordained."
"Try me, and see if I will not do as I say. He is to be treated kindlyso long as we hold him here and he is to be released when the committeeis in power. Then he may tell all that he knows, for it will be of noavail. He cannot escape, that you know. If he were a spy I would offerno objection to your methods. He is an American gentleman, a traveller.I, Olga Platanova, say this to you. It is not a plea, not a petition; itis an ultimatum. Spare him, or the glorious cause must suffer by mydefection."
"Sh! Not so loud, girl! He can hear every word you say!"
"Why should it matter, madam? He is where he can do no harm to ourcause. Let him hear. Let him understand what it is that we are doing.Are we ashamed of our duty to the world? If so, then we are criminals,not deliverers. I am not ashamed of what God wills me to do. It ishorrible, but it is the edict of God. I will obey. But God does notcommand us to torture an innocent man who happens to fall into ourhands. No! Let him hear. Let him know that I, Olga Platanova, am to hurlthe thing that is to destroy the life of Prince Robin. I am not afraidto have him know to-day what the world will know next week. Let him hearand revile me now, as the world will do after it is over and I am gone.The glory will be mine when all the people of this great globe arejoined to our glorious realm. Then the world will say that OlgaPlatanova was not a beast, but a deliverer, a creator! Let him hear!"
The listener's blood was running cold. The life of Prince Robin! Anassassination! "The thing that will destroy!" A bomb! God!
For half an hour they argued with her, seeking to turn her from thestand she had taken; protesting to the last stage, cursing her for asentimental fool. Then they came to terms with her. Truxton King owedhis life to this strange girl who knew him not at all, but who believedin him. He suffered intensely in the discovery that she was, in the end,to lend herself to the commission of the most heartless and diabolicalof crimes--the destruction of that innocent, well-worshipped boy ofGraustark.
"You must be in love with this simple-minded American, who comes--"Peter Brutus started to say at one stage of the discussion, when thefrail girl was battling almost physically with her tormentors.
"Stop! Peter Brutus, you shall not say that! You know where my lovelies! Don't say that to me again, you beast!" she had cried, and Brutuswas silenced.
Truxton was brought into the room a few minutes later. He was white withemotion as he faced the Committee of Ten. Before a word could beaddressed to him he blurted out:
"You damned cowards! Weak as I am, I would have fought for you, MissPlatanova, if I could have got through that door. Thank you for what youhave done to convince these dogs! I would to God I could save you fromthis thing you are pledged to do. It is frightful! I cannot think it ofyou! Give it up! All of you, give this thing up! I will promisesecrecy--I will never betray what I have heard. Only don't do this awfulthing! Think of that dear little boy--"
Olga Platanova cried out and covered her eyes with her hands, murmuringthe words "dear little boy" over and over again. She was led from theroom by William Spantz. Peter Brutus stood over King, whose arms wereheld by two stalwart men.
"Enough!" he commanded. "We spare you, not for her sake, but for thesake of the cause we serve. Hear me: you are to be held here a prisoneruntil our plans are consummated. You will be properly fed and cared for.You have heard Miss Platanova say that she will cook the food for youherself, but you are not to see her. Do not seek to turn her from herpurpose. That you cannot do. She is pledged to it; it is irrevocable. Wehave perhaps made a mistake in bringing you here: it would have been farwiser to kill you in the beginning, but--"
King interrupted him. "I haven't the least doubt that you will kill mein the end. She may not be here to protect me after--after theassassination."
"She is prepared to die by the same bomb that slays the Prince," was allthat Brutus would say in response to this, but King observed the slylook that went round amongst them. He knew then that they meant to killhim in the end.
Afterward, in his little room, he writhed in the agony of helplessness.The Prince, his court, the government--all were to be blasted to satisfythe end of this sickening conspiracy. Loraine! She, too, was doomed! Hegroaned aloud in his misery and awe.
Food and water came after that, but he ate and drank little, sodepressed had he become. He sought for every means of escape thatsuggested itself to him. The walls, the floors, the doors, the stairwayto the armourer's shop--all were impassable, so carefully was heguarded. From time to time he heard inklings of the plot which was toculminate on the fatal 26th; he did not get the details in particular,but he knew that the bomb was to be hurled at the Prince near theentrance to the plaza and that Marlanx's men were to sweep over thestricken city almost before the echo died away.
There was a telegraph instrument in the outer room. He could hear itticking off its messages day and night,
and could hear the discussion ofreports as they came in or went out. It soon became clear to him thatthe wire connected the room with Marlanx's headquarters near Balak inAxphain, a branch instrument being stationed in the cave above theWitch's hut. He marvelled at the completeness of the great conspiracy;and marvelled more because it seemed to be absolutely unknown to theomnipresent Dangloss.
On his third night he heard the Committee discussing the failure of oneof Marlanx's most cunning schemes. The news had come in over the wireand it created no small amount of chagrin among the Red conspirators.That one detail in their mighty plot should go contrary to expectationsseemed to disturb them immeasurably. King was just beginning to realisethe stupendous possibilities of the plot; he listened for every detailwith a mind so fascinated by horror that it seemed hardly able to graspthe seriousness of his own position.
It seemed that Marlanx deemed it necessary--even imperative--to thewelfare of the movement, that John Tullis should be disposed ofsummarily before the crucial chapter in their operations. Truxton heardthe Committee discussing the fiasco that attended his first attempt todraw the brainy, influential American out of the arena. It was clearthat Marlanx suspected Tullis of a deep admiration for his wife, theCountess Ingomede; he was prepared to play upon that admiration for thesuccess of his efforts. The Countess disappeared on a recent night,leaving the court in extreme doubt as to her fate. Later a decoytelegram was sent by a Marlanx agent, informing Tullis that she had goneto Schloss Marlanx, never to return, but so shrewdly worded that hewould believe that it had been sent by coercion, and that she wasactually a prisoner in the hands of her own husband. Tullis was expectedto follow her to the Castle, bent on rescue. As a matter of fact, theCountess was a prisoner in the hills near Balak, spirited away from herown garden by audacious agents of the Iron Count. Tullis was swift tofall into the trap, but, to the confusion of the arch-plotter, he wasjust as swift to avoid the consequences.
He left Edelweiss with two secret service men, bound for SchlossMarlanx. All unknown to him, a selected company of cutthroats were inwaiting for him on the hills near the castle. To the amazement of theconspirators, he suddenly retraced his tracks and came back to Edelweissinside of twenty-four hours, a telegram stopping him at Gushna, ahundred miles down the line. The message was from Dangloss and it was incipher. A trainman in the service of Marlanx could only say, inexplanation, that the American had smiled as he deciphered the dispatchand at once left the carriage with his men to await the up-train at sixo'clock.
Peter Brutus repeated a message he had just received from Marlanx atBalak. It was to the effect that he had reason to believe that his wifehad managed, through an unknown traitor, to send word to the Tower thatshe was not at Schloss Marlanx, nor in any immediate danger. He felthimself supported in this belief by the obvious fact that no furtherefforts had been made by Tullis or the police since that day. Theauthorities apparently were inactive and Tullis was serenely secure atthe Royal Castle. The guard about the Prince, however, had been largelyincreased.
Tullis was known to be re-organising the Royal Guard, supported by theministry to a man, it was said; not even the Duke of Perse opposed him.
"The Count is more afraid of this man Tullis than of all the rest,"averred Peter Brutus. "He has reasons to hate and fear the Americans.That is why he desires the death of our prisoner. He has said, time andagain, over the wire that King will in some way escape and play thedeuce with our plans. It does not seem possible, however. We have himabsolutely secure, and Olga--well, you know how she feels about it."
"I don't see why he should be so disturbed by Tullis," growled one ofthe men. "He has no real authority at court and he is but one managainst an unseen army that will not strike until everything is ready.There can be no--"
"That is what I have said to my master, Julius, but he will not beconvinced. He says that he has had experience with one American, Lorry,and he knows the breed. Tullis has more power at court than the peoplethink. He is shrewd and strong and not to be caught napping. As a matterof fact, the Count says, Tullis has already scented danger in the airand has induced the ministry to prepare for an uprising. Of course, hecannot know of the dynamiting that is to open the way to success, but itis true that if anybody can upset our plans, it is this meddlingAmerican. He is a self-appointed guardian of the Prince and he is not tobe sneered at. The regents are puppets, nothing more."
Julius Spantz agreed with Brutus. "I know that the guard is beingstrengthened and that certain precautions are being taken to preventthe abduction of the Prince. It is common rumour among the soldiers thatCount Marlanx will some day seek to overthrow the government and takethe throne. The air is full of talk concerning this far-distantpossibility. Thank God, it is to be sooner than they think. If Tullisand General Braze were given a month or two longer, I doubt if we couldsucceed. The blow must catch them unprepared."
"This is the 22d, Saturday is the 26th. They can do nothing in fourdays," said one of the women.
"Count Marlanx will be ready on the 26th. He has said so. A new strikewill be declared on the railroad on the 25th and the strikers will be inthe city with their grievances. Saturday's celebration will bring menfrom the mountains and the mines to town. A single blow, and we havewon." So spoke Brutus.
"Then why all this fear of Tullis?" demanded Anna Cromer.
"It is not like the Iron Count," added Madame Drovnask with a sneer.
Olga Platanova had not spoken. She was not there to talk. She was onlyto act on the 26th of July. She was the means to an end.
"Well, fear or no fear, the Count lies awake trying to think of a way toentice him from the city before the 26th. It may be silly, madam, butCount Marlanx is a wiser man than any of us here. He is not afraid ofDangloss or Braze or Quinnox, but he is afraid of what he calls'American luck!' He is even superstitious about it."
"We must not--we cannot fail," grated William Spantz, and the cry wasreiterated by half a dozen voices.
"The world demands success of us!" cried Anna Cromer. "We die forsuccess, we die for failure! It is all one!"
The next morning, after a sleepless night, Truxton King made his firstdetermined attempt to escape. All night long he had lain there thinkingof the horrid thing that was to happen on the black 26th. He counted thedays, the hours, the minutes. Morning brought the 23d. Only three daysmore! Oh, if he could but get one word to John Tullis, the man Marlanxfeared; if he could only break away from these fiends long enough toutter one cry of warning to the world, even with his dying gasp!
Marlanx feared the Americans! He even feared him, a helpless captive!The thrill of exultation that ran through his veins was but the genesisof an impulse that mastered him later on.
He knew that two armed men stood guard in the outer room day and night.The door to the stairway leading into the armourer's shop was of ironand heavily barred; the door opening into the sewer was even moresecurely bolted; besides, there was a great stone door at the foot ofthe passage. The keys to these two doors were never out of thepossession of William Spantz; one of his guards held the key to thestairway door. His only chance lay in his ability to suddenly overpowertwo men and make off by way of the armourer's shop.
When his little door was opened on the morning of the 23d, TruxtonKing's long, powerful figure shot through as if sped by a catapult. Theman with the candle and the knife went down like a beef, floored by ablow on the jaw.
The American, his eyes blazing with hope and desperation, keptonward--to find himself face to face with Olga Platanova!
She was staring at him with frightened eyes, her lips apart, her handsto her breast. The tableau was brief. He could not strike her down. Witha curse he was turning to the man on the floor, eager to snatch the keysfrom his belt. A scream from her drawn lips held him; he whirled andlooked into the now haggard face of the girl he had consideredbeautiful. The penalty for her crime was already written there. She wasto die in three days!
"He has not the key!" she cried. "Nor have I. You have no chance toescape. Go
back! Go back! They are coming!"
A key rattled in the door. When it swung open, two men stood in theaperture, both with drawn pistols. The girl leaped between them and thehelpless, defeated American.
"Remember!" she cried. "You are not to kill him!"
Peter Brutus had risen from the floor, half dazed but furious. He made avicious leap at King, his knife ready for the lunge.
"I'm glad it's you," roared King, leaping aside. His fist shot out andagain Brutus went down. The men in the doorway actually laughed.
"A good blow, even if it avails you nothing," said one of them drily."He is not an especial favorite with us. Return to your room at once.Miss Platanova, call your uncle. It is now necessary to bind thefellow's hands. They are too dangerous to be allowed to roam at large inthis fashion."
All day long Truxton paced his little prison, bitterly lamenting hisill-timed effort. Now he would be even more carefully guarded. His handswere bound behind his back; he was powerless. If he had only waited!Luck had been against him. How was he to know that the guard with thekeys had gone upstairs when Olga brought his breakfast down? It wasfate.
The 23d dragged itself into the past and the 24th was following in thegloomy wake of its predecessors. Two days more! He began to feel theapproach of madness! His own death was not far away. It would followthat of the Prince and of Olga Platanova, his friend. But he was notthinking of his own death; he was thinking of the Prince's life!
The atmosphere of suppressed excitement that characterised the hushedgatherings in the outer room did not fail to leave its impression uponhim; he knew there was murder in the hearts of these fanatics; he couldfeel the strain that held their hitherto vehement lips to tensewhisperings and mutterings. He could distinguish the difference betweenthe footsteps of to-day and those of yesterday; the tread was growinglighter, unconsciously more stealthy with each passing hour.
Forty-eight hours! That was all!
Truxton found himself crying bitterly from time to time; not because hewas in terror but because he knew of the thing that hourly drew nearerdespite the fact that he knew!
Olga Platanova's voice was heard no more before the Committee of Ten.Something told him that she was being groomed and primed in an upstairsroom! Primed like a gun of war! He wondered if she could be praying forcourage to do the thing that had been set down for her to do. Food nowcame irregularly to him. She was no longer preparing it.
She was making herself ready!
Early that night, as he lay with his ear to the crack of the door, heheard them discussing his own death. It was to come as soon as Olga hadgone to her reward! She was not there to defend him. Spantz had saidthat she was praying in her room, committing her soul to God! TruxtonKing suddenly pricked up his ears, attracted by a sentence that fellfrom the lips of one of the men.
"Tullis is on his way to the hills of Dawsbergen by this time. He willbe out of the way on the 26th safe enough."
"Count Marlanx was not to be satisfied until he had found the means todraw him away from Edelweiss," said another. "This time it will worklike a charm. Late this afternoon Tullis was making ready to lead atroop of cavalry into the hills to effect a rescue. Sancta Maria! Thatwas a clever stroke! Not only does he go himself, but with him goes acaptain with one hundred soldiers from the fort. Ha, ha! Marlanx is afox! A very exceptional fox!"
Tullis off to the hills? With soldiers, to effect a rescue! Truxton satup, his brain whirling.
"A wise fox!" agreed Peter Brutus, thickly. His lips were terriblyswollen from King's final blow. "Tullis goes off chasing ajack-o'-lantern in the hills; Marlanx sits by and laughs at the jokehe's played. It is good! Almost too good to be true. I wonder what ourfine prisoner will say to it when the new prisoner comes to keep himcompany over the 26th."
Truxton King: A Story of Graustark Page 11