Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim

by Anthony Hope

  CHAPTER XI. WHAT THE CHANCELLOR'S WIFE SAW

  THE night, so precious in its silence, solitude, and darkness, waswaning fast; soon the first dim approaches of day would be visible; soonthe streets would become alive and people be about. Before then RudolfRassendyll, the man who bore a face that he dared not show in open day,must be under cover; else men would say that the king was in Strelsau,and the news would flash in a few hours through the kingdom and (soRudolf feared) reach even those ears which we knew to be shut to allearthly sounds. But there was still some time at Mr. Rassendyll'sdisposal, and he could not spend it better than in pursuing his fightwith Bauer. Taking a leaf out of the rascal's own book, he drew himselfback into the shadow of the house walls and prepared to wait. At theworst he could keep the fellow from communicating with Rischenheim fora little longer, but his hope was that Bauer would steal back aftera while and reconnoitre with a view to discovering how matters stood,whether the unwelcome visitor had taken his departure and the way toRischenheim were open. Wrapping his scarf closely round his face, Rudolfwaited, patiently enduring the tedium as he best might, drenched bythe rain, which fell steadily, and very imperfectly sheltered from thebuffeting of the wind. Minutes went by; there were no signs of Bauernor of anybody else in the silent street. Yet Rudolf did not venture toleave his post; Bauer would seize the opportunity to slip in; perhapsBauer had seen him come out, and was in his turn waiting till the coastshould be clear; or, again, perhaps the useful spy had gone offto intercept Rupert of Hentzau, and warn him of the danger in theKonigstrasse. Ignorant of the truth and compelled to accept all thesechances, Rudolf waited, still watching the distant beginnings of dawningday, which must soon drive him to his hiding-place again. Meanwhile mypoor wife waited also, a prey to every fear that a woman's sensitivemind can imagine and feed upon.

  Rudolf turned his head this way and that, seeking always the darkerblot of shadow that would mean a human being. For a while his search wasvain, but presently he found what he looked for--ay, and even more. Onthe same side of the street, to his left hand, from the direction ofthe station, not one, but three blurred shapes moved up the street.They came stealthily, yet quickly; with caution, but without pause orhesitation. Rudolf, scenting danger, flattened himself close against thewall and felt for his revolver. Very likely they were only early workersor late revelers, but he was ready for something else; he had notyet sighted Bauer, and action was to be looked for from the man. Byinfinitely gradual sidelong slitherings he moved a few paces from thedoor of Mother Holf's house, and stood six feet perhaps, or eight, onthe right-hand side of it. The three came on. He strained his eyes inthe effort to discern their features. In that dim light certainty wasimpossible, but the one in the middle might well be Bauer: the height,the walk, and the make were much what Bauer's were. If it were Bauer,then Bauer had friends, and Bauer and his friends seemed to be stalkingsome game. Always most carefully and gradually Rudolf edged yet fartherfrom the little shop. At a distance of some five yards he haltedfinally, drew out his revolver, covered the man whom he took to beBauer, and thus waited his fortune and his chance.

  Now, it was plain that Bauer--for Bauer it was--would look for one oftwo things: what he hoped was to find Rudolf still in the house, what hefeared was to be told that Rudolf, having fulfilled the unknown purposeof his visit, was gone whole and sound. If the latter tidings met him,these two good friends of his whom he had enlisted for his reinforcementwere to have five crowns each and go home in peace; if the former, theywere to do their work and make ten crowns. Years after, one of them toldme the whole story without shame or reserve. What their work was, theheavy bludgeons they carried and the long knife that one of them hadlent to Bauer showed pretty clearly.

  But neither to Bauer nor to them did it occur that their quarry might becrouching near, hunting as well as hunted. Not that the pair of ruffianswho had been thus hired would have hesitated for that thought, as Iimagine. For it is strange, yet certain, that the zenith of courageand the acme of villainy can alike be bought for the price of a lady'sglove. Among such outcasts as those from whom Bauer drew his recruitsthe murder of a man is held serious only when the police are by, anddeath at the hands of him they seek to kill is no more than an every-dayrisk of their employment.

  "Here's the house," whispered Bauer, stopping at the door. "Now, I'llknock, and you stand by to knock him on the head if he runs out. He'sgot a six-shooter, so lose no time."

  "He'll only fire it in heaven," growled a hoarse, guttural voice thatended in a chuckle.

  "But if he's gone?" objected the other auxiliary.

  "Then I know where he's gone," answered Bauer. "Are you ready?"

  A ruffian stood on either side of the door with uplifted bludgeon. Bauerraised his hand to knock.

  Rudolf knew that Rischenheim was within, and he feared that Bauer,hearing that the stranger had gone, would take the opportunity oftelling the count of his visit. The count would, in his turn, warnRupert of Hentzau, and the work of catching the ringleader would allfall to be done again. At no time did Mr. Rassendyll take count of oddsagainst him, but in this instance he may well have thought himself, withhis revolver, a match for the three ruffians. At any rate, before Bauerhad time to give the signal, he sprang out suddenly from the wall anddarted at the fellow. His onset was so sudden that the other two fellback a pace; Rudolf caught Bauer fairly by the throat. I do not supposethat he meant to strangle him, but the anger, long stored in his heart,found vent in the fierce grip of his fingers. It is certain thatBauer thought his time was come, unless he struck a blow for himself.Instantly he raised his hand and thrust fiercely at Rudolf with his longknife. Mr. Rassendyll would have been a dead man, had he not loosed hishold and sprung lightly away. But Bauer sprang at him again, thrustingwith the knife, and crying to his associates,

  "Club him, you fools, club him!"

  Thus exhorted, one jumped forward. The moment for hesitation had gone.In spite of the noise of wind and pelting rain, the sound of a shotrisked much; but not to fire was death. Rudolf fired full at Bauer: thefellow saw his intention and tried to leap behind one of his companions;he was just too late, and fell with a groan to the ground.

  Again the other ruffians shrank back, appalled by the sudden ruthlessdecision of the act. Mr. Rassendyll laughed. A half smothered yetuncontrolled oath broke from one of them. "By God!" he whisperedhoarsely, gazing at Rudolf's face and letting his arm fall to his side."My God!" he said then, and his mouth hung open. Again Rudolf laughed athis terrified stare.

  "A bigger job than you fancied, is it?" he asked, pushing his scarf wellaway from his chin.

  The man gaped at him; the other's eyes asked wondering questions, butneither did he attempt to resume the attack. The first at last foundvoice, and he said, "Well, it'd be damned cheap at ten crowns, andthat's the living truth."

  His friend--or confederate rather, for such men have no friends--lookedon, still amazed.

  "Take up that fellow by his head and his heels," ordered Rudolf."Quickly! I suppose you don't want the police to find us here with him,do you? Well, no more do I. Lift him up."

  As he spoke Rudolf turned to knock at the door of No. 19. But even as hedid so Bauer groaned. Dead perhaps he ought to have been, but it seemsto me that fate is always ready to take the cream and leave the scum.His leap aside had served him well, after all: he had nearly escapedscot free. As it was, the bullet, almost missing his head altogether,had just glanced on his temple as it passed; its impact had stunned, butnot killed. Friend Bauer was in unusual luck that night; I wouldn't havetaken a hundred to one about his chance of life. Rupert arrested hishand. It would not do to leave Bauer at the house, if Bauer were likelyto regain speech. He stood for a moment, considering what to do, but inan instant the thoughts that he tried to gather were scattered again.

  "The patrol! the patrol!" hoarsely whispered the fellow who had not yetspoken. There was a sound of the hoofs of horses. Down the streetfrom the station end there appeared two mounted men. Without a secondmoment's hes
itation the two rascals dropped their friend Bauer with athud on the ground; one ran at his full speed across the street, theother bolted no less quickly up the Konigstrasse. Neither could affordto meet the constables; and who could say what story this red-hairedgentleman might tell, ay, or what powers he might command?

  But, in truth, Rudolf gave no thought to either his story or his powers.If he were caught, the best he could hope would be to lie in the lockupwhile Rupert played his game unmolested. The device that he had employedagainst the amazed ruffians could be used against lawful authority onlyas a last and desperate resort. While he could run, run he would. In aninstant he also took to his heels, following the fellow who had dartedup the Konigstrasse. But before he had gone very far, coming to a narrowturning, he shot down it; then he paused for a moment to listen.

  The patrol had seen the sudden dispersal of the group, and, struck withnatural suspicion, quickened pace. A few minutes brought them whereBauer was. They jumped from their horses and ran to him. He wasunconscious, and could, of course, give them no account of how he cameto be in his present state. The fronts of all the houses were dark, thedoors shut; there was nothing to connect the man stretched on the groundwith either No. 19 or any other dwelling. Moreover, the constables werenot sure that the sufferer was himself a meritorious object, for hishand still held a long, ugly knife. They were perplexed: they were buttwo; there was a wounded man to look after; there were three men topursue, and the three had fled in three separate directions. They lookedup at No. 19; No. 19 remained dark, quiet, absolutely indifferent. Thefugitives were out of sight. Rudolf Rassendyll, hearing nothing, hadstarted again on his way. But a minute later he heard a shrill whistle.The patrol were summoning assistance; the man must be carried to thestation, and a report made; but other constables might be warned of whathad happened, and despatched in pursuit of the culprits. Rudolf heardmore than one answering whistle; he broke into a run, looking for aturning on the left that would take him back into the direction of myhouse, but he found none. The narrow street twisted and curved in thebewildering way that characterizes the old parts of the town. Rudolfhad spent some time once in Strelsau; but a king learns little of backstreets, and he was soon fairly puzzled as to his whereabouts. Day wasdawning, and he began to meet people here and there. He dared run nomore, even had his breath lasted him; winding the scarf about his face,and cramming his hat over his forehead again, he fell into an easy walk,wondering whether he could venture to ask his way, relieved to find nosigns that he was being pursued, trying to persuade himself that Bauer,though not dead, was at least incapable of embarrassing disclosures;above all, conscious of the danger of his tell-tale face, and of thenecessity of finding some shelter before the city was all stirring andawake.

  At this moment he heard horses' hoofs behind him. He was now at theend of the street, where it opened on the square in which the barracksstand. He knew his bearings now, and, had he not been interrupted,could have been back to safe shelter in my house in twenty minutes. But,looking back, he saw the figure of a mounted constable just coming intosight behind him. The man seemed to see Rudolf, for he broke into aquick trot. Mr. Rassendyll's position was critical; this fact aloneaccounts for the dangerous step into which he allowed himself tobe forced. Here he was, a man unable to give account of himself, ofremarkable appearance, and carrying a revolver, of which one barrel wasdischarged. And there was Bauer, a wounded man, shot by somebody witha revolver, a quarter of an hour before. Even to be questioned wasdangerous; to be detained meant ruin to the great business that engagedhis energies. For all he knew, the patrol had actually sighted him ashe ran. His fears were not vain; for the constable raised his voice,crying, "Hi, sir--you there--stop a minute!"

  Resistance was the one thing worse than to yield. Wit, and not force,must find escape this time. Rudolf stopped, looking round again with asurprised air. Then he drew himself up with an assumption of dignity,and waited for the constable. If that last card must be played, he wouldwin the hand with it.

  "Well, what do you want?" he asked coldly, when the man was a few yardsfrom him; and, as he spoke, he withdrew the scarf almost entirelyfrom his features, keeping it only over his chin. "You call veryperemptorily," he continued, staring contemptuously. "What's yourbusiness with me?"

  With a violent start, the sergeant--for such the star on his collar andthe lace on his cuff proclaimed him--leant forward in the saddle to lookat the man whom he had hailed. Rudolf said nothing and did not move.The man's eyes studied his face intently. Then he sat bolt upright andsaluted, his face dyed to a deep red in his sudden confusion.

  "And why do you salute me now?" asked Rudolf in a mocking tone. "Firstyou hunt me, then you salute me. By Heaven, I don't know why you putyourself out at all about me!"

  "I--I--" the fellow stuttered. Then trying a fresh start, he stammered,"Your Majesty, I didn't know--I didn't suppose--"

  Rudolf stepped towards him with a quick, decisive tread.

  "And why do you call me 'Your Majesty'?" he asked, still mockingly.

  "It--it--isn't it your Majesty?"

  Rudolf was close by him now, his hand on the horse's neck.

  He looked up into the sergeant's face with steady eyes, saying:

  "You make a mistake, my friend. I am not the king."

  "You are not--?" stuttered the bewildered fellow.

  "By no means. And, sergeant--?"

  "Your Majesty?"

  "Sir, you mean."

  "Yes, sir."

  "A zealous officer, sergeant, can make no greater mistake than totake for the king a gentleman who is not the king. It might injure hisprospects, since the king, not being here, mightn't wish to have itsupposed that he was here. Do you follow me, sergeant?"

  The man said nothing, but stared hard. After a moment Rudolf continued:

  "In such a case," said he, "a discreet officer would not trouble thegentleman any more, and would be very careful not to mention that hehad made such a silly mistake. Indeed, if questioned, he would answerwithout hesitation that he hadn't seen anybody even like the king, muchless the king himself."

  A doubtful, puzzled little smile spread under the sergeant's moustache.

  "You see, the king is not even in Strelsau," said Rudolf.

  "Not in Strelsau, sir?"

  "Why, no, he's at Zenda."

  "Ah! At Zenda, sir?"

  "Certainly. It is therefore impossible--physically impossible--that heshould be here."

  The fellow was convinced that he understood now.

  "It's certainly impossible, sir," said he, smiling more broadly.

  "Absolutely. And therefore impossible also that you should have seenhim." With this Rudolf took a gold piece from his pocket and handed itto the sergeant. The fellow took it with something like a wink.

  "As for you, you've searched here and found nobody," concluded Mr.Rassendyll. "So hadn't you better at once search somewhere else?

  "Without doubt, sir," said the sergeant, and with the most deferentialsalute, and another confidential smile, he turned and rode back by theway he had come. No doubt he wished that he could meet a gentleman whowas--not the king--every morning of his life. It hardly need be saidthat all idea of connecting the gentleman with the crime committed inthe Konigstrasse had vanished from his mind. Thus Rudolf won freedomfrom the man's interference, but at a dangerous cost--how dangerous hedid not know. It was indeed most impossible that the king could be inStrelsau.

  He lost no time now in turning his steps towards his refuge. It was pastfive o'clock, day came quickly, and the streets began to be peopledby men and women on their way to open stalls or to buy in the market.Rudolf crossed the square at a rapid walk, for he was afraid of thesoldiers who were gathering for early duty opposite to the barracks.Fortunately he passed by them unobserved, and gained the comparativeseclusion of the street in which my house stands, without encounteringany further difficulties. In truth, he was almost in safety; but badluck was now to have its turn. When Mr. Rassendyll was no more thanfifty yards from
my door, a carriage suddenly drove up and stopped a fewpaces in front of him. The footman sprang down and opened the door. Twoladies got out; they were dressed in evening costume, and were returningfrom a ball. One was middle-aged, the other young and rather pretty.They stood for a moment on the pavement, the younger saying:

  "Isn't it pleasant, mother? I wish I could always be up at fiveo'clock."

  "My dear, you wouldn't like it for long," answered the elder. "It's verynice for a change, but--"

  She stopped abruptly. Her eye had fallen on Rudolf Rassendyll. He knewher: she was no less a person than the wife of Helsing the chancellor;his was the house at which the carriage had stopped. The trick that hadserved with the sergeant of police would not do now. She knew the kingtoo well to believe that she could be mistaken about him; she was toomuch of a busybody to be content to pretend that she was mistaken.

  "Good gracious!" she whispered loudly, and, catching her daughter's arm,she murmured, "Heavens, my dear, it's the king!"

  Rudolf was caught. Not only the ladies, but their servants were lookingat him.

  Flight was impossible. He walked by them. The ladies curtseyed, theservants bowed bare-headed. Rudolf touched his hat and bowed slightly inreturn. He walked straight on towards my house; they were watching him,and he knew it. Most heartily did he curse the untimely hours to whichfolks keep up their dancing, but he thought that a visit to my housewould afford as plausible an excuse for his presence as any other. Sohe went on, surveyed by the wondering ladies, and by the servants who,smothering smiles, asked one another what brought his Majesty abroad insuch a plight (for Rudolf's clothes were soaked and his boots muddy), atsuch an hour--and that in Strelsau, when all the world thought he was atZenda.

  Rudolf reached my house. Knowing that he was watched he had abandonedall intention of giving the signal agreed on between my wife and himselfand of making his way in through the window. Such a sight would indeedhave given the excellent Baroness von Helsing matter for gossip! Itwas better to let every servant in my house see his open entrance. But,alas, virtue itself sometimes leads to ruin. My dearest Helga, sleeplessand watchful in the interest of her mistress, was even now behind theshutter, listening with all her ears and peering through the chinks.No sooner did Rudolf's footsteps become audible than she cautiouslyunfastened the shutter, opened the window, put her pretty head out, andcalled softly: "All's safe! Come in!"

  The mischief was done then, for the faces of Helsing's wife anddaughter, ay, and the faces of Helsing's servants, were intent on thismost strange spectacle. Rudolf, turning his head over his shoulder, sawthem; a moment later poor Helga saw them also. Innocent and untrainedin controlling her feelings, she gave a shrill little cry of dismay, andhastily drew back. Rudolf looked round again. The ladies had retreatedto the cover of the porch, but he still saw their eager faces peeringfrom between the pillars that supported it.

  "I may as well go in now," said Rudolf, and in he sprang. There wasa merry smile on his face as he ran forward to meet Helga, who leantagainst the table, pale and agitated.

  "They saw you?" she gasped.

  "Undoubtedly," said he. Then his sense of amusement conquered everythingelse, and he sat down in a chair, laughing.

  "I'd give my life," said he, "to hear the story that the chancellor willbe waked up to hear in a minute or two from now!"

  But a moment's thought made him grave again. For whether he were theking or Rudolf Rassendyll, he knew that my wife's name was in equalperil. Knowing this, he stood at nothing to serve her. He turned to herand spoke quickly.

  "You must rouse one of the servants at once. Send him round to thechancellor's and tell the chancellor to come here directly. No, write anote. Say the king has come by appointment to see Fritz on some privatebusiness, but that Fritz has not kept the appointment, and that the kingmust now see the chancellor at once. Say there's not a moment to lose."

  She was looking at him with wondering eyes.

  "Don't you see," he said, "if I can impose on Helsing, I may stop thosewomen's tongues? If nothing's done, how long do you suppose it'll bebefore all Strelsau knows that Fritz von Tarlenheim's wife let the kingin at the window at five o'clock in the morning?"

  "I don't understand," murmured poor Helga in bewilderment.

  "No, my dear lady, but for Heaven's sake do what I ask of you. It's theonly chance now."

  "I'll do it," she said, and sat down to write.

  Thus it was that, hard on the marvelous tidings which, as I conjecture,the Baroness von Helsing poured into her husband's drowsy ears, came animperative summons that the chancellor should wait on the king at thehouse of Fritz von Tarlenheim.

  Truly we had tempted fate too far by bringing Rudolf Rassendyll again toStrelsau.