Truxton King: A Story of Graustark

by George Barr McCutcheon

  CHAPTER XV

  THE GIRL IN THE RED CLOAK

  Inside of an hour after the return of the frightened, quivering groomwho had escaped from the brigands in the hills, Jack Tullis was grantedpermission by the war department to take a hundred picked men with himin the effort to overtake and capture the abductors of his sister. Thedazed groom's story hardly had been told to the horrified brother beforehe was engaged in telephoning to General Braze and Baron Dangloss. Ahurried consultation followed. Other affairs that had been troubling theauthorities for days were forgotten in the face of this distressingcatastrophe; there was no time to be lost if the desperadoes were to beheaded before they succeeded in reaching the Dawsbergen passes withtheir lovely captive. Once there, it would be like hunting a needle in ahaystack; they could elude pursuit for days among the wild crags ofupper Dawsbergen, where none but outlaws lived, and fierce beaststhrived.

  Unluckily for the dearest hopes of the rescuing party, the miserablegroom did not reach the city until almost noon of the day following theabduction. He had lost his way and had wandered all night in theforests. When Miss Tullis failed to return at nightfall, her brother,having in mind the mysterious disappearance of Truxton King and theflight of Countess Ingomede, was preparing to set forth in search ofher. A telephone message from Ganlook, fifteen miles north of the city,came at seven o'clock, just as he was leaving the Castle. The speakerpurported to be the Countess Prandeville, a very estimable chatelainewho ruled socially over the grim old village of Ganlook. She informedTullis that his sister was with her for the night, having arrived in theafternoon with a "frightful headache." She would look after the dearchild, of whom she was very fond, and would send her down in themorning, when she would surely be herself again. Greatly relieved,Tullis gave up his plan to ride off in quest of her; he knew the amiableCountess, and felt that his sister was in good hands.

  It was not until the return of the groom that he recalled the fact thatthe voice on the telephone was not quite like that of the Countess. Hehad been cleverly hoodwinked. Baron Dangloss, obtaining connection withthe Prandeville household in Ganlook, at once discovered that Lorainehad not been in the chateau in many days.

  The fierce, cock-robin baron was sadly upset. Three prominent personshad been stolen from beneath his nose, so to speak. He was besidehimself with rage and dismay. This last outrage was the climax. The oldman adored the sister of Jack Tullis; he was heartbroken and crushed bythe news of the catastrophe. For a while he worked as if in a daze; onlythe fierce spurring of Jack Tullis and Vos Engo, who believed himself tobe an accepted suitor, awoke him from an unusual state of lethargy. Itis even said that the baron shed tears without blowing his nose todiscredit the emotion.

  The city was soon to know of the fresh outrage at the hands of thebandits in the hills. Great excitement prevailed; there were manysincere lamentations, for the beautiful American girl was a greatfavourite--especially with those excellent persons who conducted bazaarsin the main avenues. Loraine, being an American, did not hesitate tovisit the shops in person: something that the native ladies neverthought of doing. Hundreds of honest citizens volunteered to join in asearch of the hills, but the distinction was denied them.

  The war department issued official notice to all merchants that theirplaces of business must be decorated properly against the holiday thatwould occur on the morrow. Shops were to be closed for two hours atmidday, during the ceremonies attending the unveiling of the Yetivemonument in the Plaza. The merchants might well give their time todecorating their shops; the soldiers could do all the searching and allthe fighting that was necessary. Strict orders, backed by method, wereissued to the effect that no one was to pass through the gates duringthe day, except by special permission from General Braze.

  Count Vos Engo was eager to accompany the expedition to Dawsbergen insearch of his wayward lady-love. Tullis, who liked the gay youngnobleman despite the reputation he had managed to live down, was willingthat he should be the one to lead the troops, but Colonel Quinnox flatlyrefused to consider it.

  "To-morrow's celebration in the city will demand the attendance of everynoble officer in the guard," he said. "I cannot allow you to go, CountVos Engo. Your place is here, beside the Prince. Line officers may takecharge of this expedition to the hills; they will be amply able tomanage the chase. I am sorry that it happens so. The Royal Guard, to aman, must ride with the Prince to-morrow."

  Captain Haas, of the dragoons, was put in charge of the relief party,much to the disgust of Vos Engo; and at two o'clock in the afternoonthey were ready to ride away. The party was armed and equipped for abitter chase. Word had been sent to Serros, the capital of Dawsbergen,asking the assistance of Prince Dantan in the effort to overtake theabductors. A detachment, it was announced in reply, was to start fromSerros during the afternoon, bound for the eastern passes.

  Baron Dangloss rode to the southern gate with the white-faced, sufferingTullis. "We will undoubtedly receive a communication from the rascalsthis afternoon or to-morrow," he said gloomily. "They will not be slowto make a formal demand for ransom, knowing that you and your sister arepossessed of unlimited wealth. When this communication arrives it maygive us a clue to their whereabouts; certainly as to their methods. Ifit should be necessary, Tullis, to apprise you of the nature of thisdemand, I, myself, will ride post haste to St. Michael's Pass, which youare bound to reach to-morrow after your circuit of the upper gaps. It ispossible, you see, that an open attack on these fellows may result inher--er--well, to be frank--her murder. Damn them, they'd do it, youknow. My place to-morrow is here in the city. There may be disturbances.Nothing serious, of course, but I am uneasy. There are many strangers inthe city and more are coming for the holiday. The presence of the Princeat the unveiling of the statue of his mother--God bless her soul!--is atremendous magnet. I would that you could be here to-morrow, JohnTullis; at Prince Robin's side, so to speak."

  "Poor little chap! He was terribly cut up when I told him I was going.He wanted to come. Had his little sword out, and all that. Said thecelebration could be postponed or go hang, either one. Look after himclosely to-morrow, Dangloss. I'd shoot myself if anything were to happento him. Marlanx is in the air; I feel him, I give you my word, I do!I've been depressed for days. As sure as there's a sun up yonder, thatold scoundrel is planning something desperate. Don't forget that we'vealready learned a few things regarding his designs." He waited a momentbefore uttering his gravest fear. "Don't give him a chance to strike atthe Prince."

  "He wouldn't dare to do that!"

  "He'd dare anything, from what I've heard of him."

  "You hate him because--"

  "Go on! Yes, I hate him because he has made _her_ unhappy. Hello, who'sthis?"

  A man who had ridden up to the gates, his horse covered with foam, wasdemanding admission. The warders halted him unceremoniously as Danglossrode forward. They found that he was one of the foremen in the employ ofthe railway construction company. He brought the disquieting news thatanother strike had been declared, that the men were ugly and determinedto tear up the track already laid unless their demands were considered,and, furthermore, that there had been severe fighting between the twofactions engaged on the work. He urgently implored Dangloss to sendtroops out to hold the rioters in check. Many of the men were demandingtheir pay so that they might give up their jobs and return to their ownlands.

  "What is your name?" demanded the harassed minister of police.

  "Polson," replied the foreman. He lied, for he was no other than JohnCromer, the unsavoury husband of Anna Cromer, of the Committee of Ten.

  "Come with me," said Dangloss. "We will go to General Braze. Good-byeand good luck, Tullis."

  The little baron rode back into the city, accompanied by the shifty-eyedCromer, while John Tullis sped off to the south, riding swiftly by theside of the stern-faced Captain Haas, an eager company of dragoonsbehind, a mountain guide in front.

  At that very moment, Loraine Tullis was comparing notes with TruxtonKing in the room ben
eath the armourer's shop; Count Marlanx was hidingin the trader's inn outside the northern gates; the abductors themselveswere scattered about the city, laughing triumphantly over the success ofthe ruse that had drawn the well-feared American away on a wild-goosechase to the distant passes of Dawsbergen. More than that: at fiveo'clock in the afternoon a second detachment of soldiers left the cityfor the scene of the riots in the construction camps, twenty miles away.

  Surely the well-laid plans of the Iron Count were being skilfullycarried out!

  All afternoon and evening men straggled in from the hills andsurrounding country, apparently loth to miss the early excitementattending the ceremonies on the following day. Sullen strikers from thecamps came down, cursing the company but drinking noisy toasts to therailroad and its future. The city by night swarmed with revellingthousands; the bands were playing, the crowds were singing, and mobswere drinking and carousing in the lower end. The cold, drizzling rainthat began to blow across the city at ten o'clock did little towardchecking the hilarity of the revellers. Honest citizens went to bedearly, leaving the streets to the strangers from the hills and theriver-lands. Not one dreamed of the ugly tragedy that was drawing to aclimax as he slept the sleep of the just, the secure, theconscience-free.

  At three o'clock in the morning word flew from brothel to brothel, fromlodging house to lodging house, in all parts of the slumbering city; athousand men crept out into the streets after the storm, all animatedby one impulse, all obeying a single fierce injunction.

  They were to find and kill a tall American! They were to keep him or hiscompanion from getting in touch with the police authorities, or with theRoyal Castle, no matter what the cost!

  The streets were soon alive with these alert, skulking minions. Everyapproach to the points of danger was guarded by desperate, heavily armedscoundrels who would not have hesitated an instant if it came to theirhands to kill Truxton King, the man with all their dearest secrets inhis grasp. In dark doorways lounged these apparently couchlessstrangers; in areaways and alleys, on doorsteps they found shelter; inthe main streets and the side streets they roamed. All the time they hadan eager, evil eye out for a tall American and a slender girl!

  Dangloss's lynx-eyed constabulary kept close watch over these restless,homeless strangers, constantly ordering them to disperse, or to "moveon," or to "find a bed, not a doorstep." The commands were alwaysobeyed; churlishly, perhaps, in many instances, but never with physicalresistance.

  At five o'clock, a stealthy whisper went the rounds, reaching the ear ofevery vagabond and cutthroat engaged in the untiring vigil. Like smokethey faded away. The silent watch was over.

  The word had sped to every corner of the town that it was no longernecessary to maintain the watch for Truxton King. He was no longer in aposition to give them trouble or uneasiness!

  The twenty-sixth dawned bright and cool after the savage storm from thenorth. Brisk breezes floated down from the mountain peaks; anunreluctant sun smiled his cheeriest from his seat behind the hills,warmly awaiting the hour when he could peep above them for a look intothe gala nest of humanity on the western slope. Everywhere there wasactivity, life, gladness and good humour.

  Gaudy decorations which had been torn away by the storm were cheerfullyreplaced; workmen refurbished the public stands and the Royal box in thePlaza; bands paraded the avenues or gave concerts in Regengetz Circus;troops of mounted soldiers and constabulary patroled the streets. Therewas nothing to indicate to the municipality that the vilest conspiracyof the age--of any age--was gripping its tentacles about the city ofEdelweiss, the smiling, happy city of mountain and valley. No one couldhave suspected guile in the laughter and badinage that masked the mannerof the men who were there to spread disaster in the bunting-cladthoroughfares.

  "I don't like the looks of things," said Baron Dangloss, time and again.His men were never so alert as to-day and never so deceived.

  "There can't be trouble of any sort," mused Colonel Quinnox. "Thesefellows are ugly, 'tis true, but they are not prepared for ademonstration. They are unarmed. What could they do against the troops,even though they are considerably depleted?"

  "Colonel, we'll yet see the day when Graustark regrets the economy thathas cut our little army to almost nothing. What have we now, all told?Three hundred men in the Royal Guard. Less than six hundred in thefortress. I have a hundred policemen. There you are. To-day there arenearly two hundred soldiers off in the mountains on nasty business ofone sort or another. 'Gad, if these ruffians from the railroad possessedno more than pistols they could give us a merry fight. There must be athousand of them. I don't like it. We'll have trouble before the day'sover."

  "General Braze says his regulars can put down any sort of an uprising inthe city," protested Quinnox. "In case of war, you know we have thetwenty thousand reserves, half of whom were regulars until two yearsago."

  "Perfectly true. Quinnox, it's your duty to take care of the Prince.You've done so in your family for fifteen generations. See to it thatPrince Robin is well looked after to-day, that's all."

  "Trust me for that, Baron," said Quinnox with his truest smile. EvenMarlanx knew that he would have to kill a Quinnox before a Graustarkruler could be reached.

  By eleven o'clock the streets in the neighbourhood of the Plaza werepacked with people. All along Castle Avenue, up which the Prince was todrive in the coach of State, hung the proud, adoring burghers and theirfamilies: like geese to flock, like sheep to scatter. At twelve theCastle gates were to be thrown open for the brilliant cavalcade that wasto pass between these cheering rows of people. In less than a quarter ofan hour afterward, the Prince and his court, the noble ladies andgentlemen of Graustark, with the distinguished visitors from otherlands, would pass into the great square through Regengetz Circus.

  At the corner below the crowded Castle Cafe, in the north side of thesquare, which was now patroled by brilliant dragoons, two men met andexchanged the compliments of the day. One of them had just come up onhorseback. He dismounted, leaving the animal in charge of an urchin whosaw a gavvo in sight. This man was young and rather dashing inappearance. The other was older and plainly a citizen of someconsequence.

  "Well?" said the latter impatiently, after they had passed the time ofday for the benefit of the nearest on-lookers. The younger man, slappinghis riding boot with his crop, led the way to the steps of a houseacross the sidewalk. Both had shot a swift, wary glance at one of theupper windows.

  "Everything is ready. There will be no hitch," said the horseman in lowtones.

  "You have seen Spantz?"

  "Sh! No names. Yes. The girl is ready."

  "And the fortress?"

  "Fifty men are in the houses opposite and others will go there--lateron."

  "We must keep the reserves out of the fortress. It would meandestruction if they got to the gun-rooms and the ammunition houses."

  "Is he here?" with a motion toward the upper window.

  "Yes. He came disguised as an old market woman, just after daybreak."

  "Well, here's his horse," said the other, "but he'll have to change hisdress. It isn't a side saddle." The young villain laughed silently.

  "Go up now to the square, Peter. Your place is there."

  If one had taken the time to observe, he might have seen that the youngman wore his hat well forward, and that his face was unnaturally white.We, who suspect him of being Peter Brutus, have reason to believe thatthere was an ugly cut on the top of his head and that it gave himexceeding pain.

  Shortly after half past eleven o'clock certain groups of men usurpedthe positions in front of certain buildings on the south side of thesquare. A score here, a half score there, others below them. Theyfavoured the shops operated by the friends of the Committee of Ten; theywere the men who were to take possession of the rifles that lay hiddenbehind counters and walls. Here, there, everywhere, all about the city,other instructed men were waiting for the signal that was to tell themto hustle deadly firearms from the beds of green-laden market wagons. Itwas all ar
ranged with deadly precision. There could be no blunder. TheIron Count and his deputies had seen to that.

  Men were stationed in the proper places to cut all telephone andtelegraph wires leading out of the city. Others were designated to holdthe gates against fugitives who might seek to reach the troops in thehills.

  Marlanx's instructions were plain, unmistakable. Only soldiers andpolicemen were to be shot; members of the royal household were alreadydoomed, including the ministry and the nobles who rode with the royalcarriage.

  The Committee of Ten had said that there would not be another ministry,never another Graustark nobility; only the Party of Equals. The IronCount had smiled to himself and let them believe all that they preachedin secret conclave. But he knew that there would be another ministry, anew nobility and a new ruler, and that there would be _no Committee ofTen!_

  Two thousand crafty mercenaries, skilled rioters and fighters from allparts of the world stood ready in the glad streets of Edelweiss to leapas one man to the standard of the Iron Count the instant he appeared inthe square after the throwing of the bomb. A well-organised, carefullyinstructed army of no mean dimensions, in the uniform of the lout andvagabond, would rise like a flash of light before the dazzled,panic-stricken populace, and Marlanx would be master. Without the callof drum or bugle his sinister soldiers of fortune would leap intopositions assigned them; in orderly, determined company front, led bychosen officers, they would sweep the square, the Circus and theavenues, up-town to the Castle, down-town to the fortress and therailway station, everywhere establishing the pennant of the man who hadbeen banished.

  The present dynasty was to end at one o'clock! So said Marlanx! Howcould Dangloss or Braze or Quinnox say him nay? They would be dead or inirons before the first shock of disaster had ceased to thrill. Theothers? Pah! They were as chaff to the Iron Count.

  The calm that precedes the storm fell upon the waiting throng; anominous silence spread from one end of the avenue to the other. For asecond only it lasted. The hush of death could not have been quieter normore impressive. Even as people looked at each other in wonder, thetumult came to its own again. Afterward a whole populace was to recallthis strange, depressing second of utter stillness; to the end of timethat sudden pall was spoken of with bated breath and in awe.

  Then, from the distant Castle came the sound of shouts, crawling up thelong line of spectators for the full length of the avenue to the eagerthrong in Regengetz Circus, swelling and growing louder as the news camethat the Prince had ridden forth from the gates. Necks were craned, rapteyes peered down the tree-topped boulevard, glad voices cried outtidings to those in the background. The Prince was coming!

  Bonny, adorable Prince Robin!

  Down the broad avenue came the Royal Military Band, heading thebrilliant procession. Banners were flying; gold and silver standardsgleamed in the van of the noble cavalcade; brilliantly uniformedcuirassiers and dragoons on gaily caparisoned horses formed a gildedphalanx that filled the distant end of the street, slowly creeping downupon the waiting thousands, drawing nearer and nearer to the spot ofdoom.

  A stately, noble, inspiring procession it was that swept toward thePlaza. The love of the people for their little Prince welled up andoverflowed in great waves of acclamation. Pomp and display, gold andfine raiment were but the creation of man; Prince Robin was, to them,the choicest creation of God. He was their Prince!

  On came the splendid phalanx of guardsmen, followed by rigid infantrymenin measured tread; the clattering of horses' hoofs, the beat of drums,the clanking of scabbards and the jangling of royal banners, rising evenabove the hum of eager voices. The great coach of gold, with its halfscore of horses, rolled sombrely beneath nature's canopy of green,surrounded on all sides by proud members of the Royal Guard. Word camedown the line that the Prince sat alone in the rear seat of the greatcoach, facing the Prime Minister and Countess Halfont. Two carriagesfrom the royal stables preceded the Prince's coach. In the first was theDuke of Perse and three fellow-members of the Cabinet; the secondcontained Baron Dangloss and General Braze. After the Prince came ascore or more of rich equipages filled with the beauty, the nobility,the splendour of this rich little court.

  The curtains in a house at the corner of the square parted gently. Ahawk-faced old man peered out upon the joyous crowd. His black eyesswept the scene. A grim smile crept into his face. He dropped thecurtains and walked away from the window, tossing a cigarette into agrate on the opposite side of the room. Then he looked at his watch.

  All of the bands in the square had ceased playing when the Castle gateswere opened for the royal procession: only the distant, rythmic beat ofa lively march came up from the avenue to the ears of this baleful oldman in the second-story front room of the home of apothecary Boltz.

  At the extreme outer side of Regengetz Circus a small group of men andwomen stood, white-faced and immovable, steadfastly holding a positionin the front rank of spectators. Shrinking back among this determinedcoterie was the slender, shuddering figure of Olga Platanova,haggard-faced, but with the light of desperation in her eyes.

  As the procession drew nearer, the companions of this wretched girlslunk away from her side, losing themselves in the crowd, leaving her todo her work while they sought distant spots of safety. Olga Platanova,her arms folded beneath the long red cloak she wore, remained where theyhad placed her and--waited!