Trusia: A Princess of Krovitch

by Davis Brinton

  IV

  THE GRAY MAN

  "Do you realize, Carrick, that three weeks have passed since I proposedthis trip to Krovitch?" They were whirling along a badly kept road inthat province of Russia as Calvert Carter made the above remark whichwas also an interrogation. The place of their debarkation had been anunusual one--Danzig--chosen because it had been the more accessible tothe Russian frontier. Slowing down the automobile for obvious reasons,Carrick turned a ruminating expression in the direction of his master.

  "Seems yesterday, sir."

  "How's the go-fever? Still working?"

  Carrick laughed. "Overtime, sir. Hundred miles an hour till we get therewouldn't be too fast for me." He turned his attention again to themachine and the rutty way before him.

  The other drew out a road map which he consulted with trained eyes thatcorrectly approximated both locality and distances. Slowly refolding ithe replaced it in an inner pocket. Being in a mood that anticipatedmuch at the end of the journey, he was not loath to break into hischauffeur's taciturnity.

  "Well, cheer up. Even at this rate we ought to make Schallberg bysunset. It's eight o'clock now."

  "Seems more than an hour since I 'ad my breakfast."

  "I know, but no man's stomach is a safe timepiece, Carrick. On the roadI could name at least six meal times by that organ of mine."

  For a few miles the jolting of the machine over rough places punctuatedtheir progress with a conversational hiatus.

  The rarely occasional peasants working in the fields or plodding alongthe way, paused in their occupations to regard the novel vehicle withstolid wonderment.

  "Seems odd, sir," hazarded Carrick when a comparatively smooth piece ofroad permitted more than monosyllabic profanity, "seems odd that we'veseen ten women to one man so far. These are all 'has beens.' No youngchaps workin' in the fields. What do you make of it, sir?"

  "The ones not already drafted for Manchuria are dodging Russianconscription most likely."

  "Think so, sir?" Carrick's tone raised a question.

  "Why? Don't you?"

  "Oh, I don't know, sir. They've all taken it on the run for some reasonor other. Maybe the Krovitch army is already mobilized."

  "Egad, Carrick, that _is_ a possibility. I never thought of that.Suppose I expected them to wait for us. We don't want to miss theopening gun. Hump her up for all she's worth. Full speed and never mindthe jolts."

  The chauffeur bent readily to the task and their further advance intothe country of their hopes was such that boded ill to any bewilderedfowl that might recklessly seek to cross in front of them. The dialindicated seventy miles an hour.

  "Suppose this were Fifth Avenue." Carter bent over to assure himself ofthe speed as he spoke.

  "Umph. We won't go into that, sir. Too 'arrowing to think of. You'd haveto mortgage everything to pye the fines. Any'ow you'd go into bankruptcyafter you'd bailed me out." Carrick paused to view the route beforethem. "That's a pretty steep 'ill a'ead, sir. Mybe we'd better stop atthe top and reconnoitre a bit. We ought to get a good view from there.It looks too bloomin' rocky for this rate any'ow."

  "Where are the glasses?" inquired his companion with unconcealedeagerness, fumbling about in the locker beneath the seat. "Never mind, Ihave them," he said, producing the binoculars.

  At the crest of the Here they stopped to view the panorama of theBeyond.

  From the height on which they halted, they looked out upon a wildernessof which they had no previous conception, for the hill they had justascended had masked it from view.

  Below them, at a distance of about two miles, as far as the eye couldsee from left to right stretched a black and dense forest of unknownantiquity. Behind and beyond it at increasing distances peak upon loftypeak, mountain after mountain, like Babel, reached upward for the sky.Of these the one nearest and directly in front of the knights errantclaimed attention.

  "Looks like a giant coal scuttle, sir," said Carrick the trite. Thedescription was apt, for the freak of nature which confronted them.Towering high above its neighbors this mountain was unusual. Someoutraged Titan in his ire had, in some long-forgotten aeon, apparentlyseized and turned upon its head the top-heavy crest, whose form roughlyspeaking was of a reversed truncated cone. Upon the wide plateau at thetop, with battlemented walls and towers outlined against a turquoisesky, stood a high pitched castle whose topmost turrets seemed suspendedfrom the heavens above them.

  "Can you myke out the flag, sir?" Carrick asked anxiously, seeing thathis master was viewing the donjon critically through the glasses.

  Much depended on the nationality of the standard, which, hardly visibleat that distance, was only discernible as a blur upon the blue of theotherwise immaculate sky. The castle undoubtedly commanded that highwayon the far side of the wood along which they must pass. Carter haddescended into the road and was eagerly adjusting the focus for a betterview.

  "Can't make it out exactly. It's not Russian for one thing. Field's red.Device is blue. Dragon or something. Have to take a chance till we get anearer look."

  Carrick, meanwhile, was peering intently down the road ahead of himwhere it disappeared into the midnight gloom of the forest. His alerteyes had noted two or three objects emerge from among the trees andstop.

  "Look there, sir," and his outstretched arm indicated the directionwhile Carter swung his glasses around to the place.

  "Videttes," he exclaimed without looking up. "Sizing us up throughglasses, eh?"

  "Russians?" The chauffeur's excitement was manifest, for he was frowningin a vain endeavor to discern the distant specks.

  "I don't know. We're in sort of a fix," was the answer as Carter lookedup at Carrick with a frank laugh. The dilemma was not causing him muchalarm. "If they are," he continued, "we're dished unless we can get bythem. I'll take a chance anyhow. We won't stop to investigate. Rightthrough the woods as if the devil was after us," with which instructionshe leaped into the machine.

  Carrick grinned. Such orders were just to his taste. A touch on thelever and the automobile shot down the hillside at a speed more rapidthan Terror's own. Nearing the scattered outposts, whose frightenedhorses flattened themselves against adjacent fences, the occupants ofthe touring car were greeted by a shower of bullets, all of which wentwide owing to the disconcerted aim of the sentries, who seemed to fly bythe autoists in phantom shapes as the wood was safely gained. Once inits tree-protected road they never relaxed speed until five miles hadbeen placed between them and possible pursuit.

  "That's done with, anyway," remarked Carter jubilantly. He turned andfaced his comrade whom the hum of bullets had exhilarated.

  "Were they Russians? Did you notice anything?"

  Carrick laughed outright. Peal followed peal before he could controlhimself. "I just saw one 'oss, sir. 'E was bally well scared. I'll neverforget 'is look,--eyes bulging and mouth open as if 'e was going toswallow a whole hyrick. After spying 'im I couldn't 'ave looked at 'isrider if I 'ad tried."

  "Well, they'll have trouble overtaking us anyhow if they were childrenof the Czar. Look, Carrick," he continued, indicating the wider and morefrequent patches of sunlight flecking the road, "it's lighting up. We'llsoon be out of the woods."

  "Better not halloa till we are, Mr. Carter."

  "Gad, that's a prophecy all right. Our way is blocked." The machine cameto an abrupt halt.

  Not far distant the exit from the forest disclosed to plain view anextensive segment of open country to the southward.

  "Not less than a thousand in that bunch," commented Carrick with gloomyreference to a dense throng of men along the road outside the forest."Mixed troops. 'Ow many more there are we can't see for these bloomin'trees."

  "Certainly are cavalry and infantry. But they don't appear to be payingmuch attention to this end of the road. They're all looking the otherway. That black and gold hussar uniform beats the gray and silver of thefoot. I don't believe they're Russians," Carter concluded with a joyfulstart. "Those uniforms! Since we can't go back, we'd better g
o ahead."

  With apparent unconcern they boldly emerged from the woodland.

  To their left, about fifty yards back from the highway, stood a quaintold inn built against a sheer cliff face which in the air seemed to bendover the puny habitation. To the right stretched fields undercultivation, but beaten hard under the feet of ten thousand men in theuniform already noticed.

  A little group of officers, well mounted, stood together in the commonsbefore the hostelry. They caught but the momentary attention of theinterlopers, which, as by some hypnotic influence, was drawn to one ofthree men quietly conversing on the stone porch of the inn.

  He was short and spare of figure, lean and colorless of face, whileabout him hung an atmosphere of grayness.

  As the puffing automobile drew up to the steps he turned quietly tosurvey its occupants, vividly contrasting the surprise displayed by histwo companions. One of these was evidently the innkeeper from theprofessional air of deference which tempered even his amazement, whilethe other, square of jowl and deep of eye, was a peasant.

  These latter could divert attention for but the moment from the grayman, their companion, whose face seemed set in a habitual, cynicalsmile, the intent of which was inscrutable. The deep creases runningfrom the corners of the mouth to the narrow nostrils showed theexpression was habitual and without the saving grace of mirthfulness.Without a doubt he was of those who gain the dislike of the class fromwhich they are derived and usually not more than the tolerance of thosewith whom they are thrown in daily contact. Carter admitted after acritical survey that the Gray Man, as he mentally dubbed him, was anexception to this rule. Though he bore every external evidence of beingof the upper servant class, there were power and masterly cunningdisclosed in every line of the set face. He was of those who, in timesof great crises, if they do not attain to power always pass throughdangers which engulf nobler men, to emerge with profit if not with honorfrom even a nation's downfall. That behind the grinning mask lay a wideknowledge of the working of the human mind, Carter saw, as the GrayMan's crafty eyes weighed the repugnance he knew he had inspired. Astheir glances met, uncontrollably, a challenge gleamed in that of theautoist which was answered by a cold defiance on the part of the elderman.

  Meanwhile the boniface, who had achieved a partial composure, hurriedforward to greet the travelers.

  "I am sorry, messieurs," he said in excellent French, "that every bed,every table, in my inn is engaged. I am overwhelmed. The 'Lion'doubtless loses noble guests," and he fetched a fat sigh as his keenlittle eyes apprised the worldly stations of the two strangers.Evidently revolving some question in his mind he hit upon, to him, ahappy solution to it.

  "The castle," he said, with a significant wink accompanied by an upwardjerk of a pudgy thumb, "the castle, messieurs, is but two miles furtheralong this road. Perhaps, if milords have friends there, they can findaccommodations."

  "While I admit, Monsieur of the Lion," said Carter, "that I would likefew things better than a good square meal just now, I would forego thatgratification for information regarding the whereabouts of a gentlemanof these parts."

  The Gray Man drew nearer as this was said. A subtle change flickeredacross the wide expanse of the innkeeper's face, while a tinge ofsuspicion added a chill to his immediate inquiry.

  "Monsieur would pay well doubtless?" He eyed the tourist narrowly. "Whois it, monsieur?"

  "I'd give ten golden florins to know where to find Count Paul Zulka. Doyou know him?"

  The boniface gasped and grew apoplectic. "I never heard of him," hesaid, which, in the face of his perturbation, was manifestly a lie.

  The Gray Man stepped to the fore at this juncture.

  "In the public squares of Schallberg, monsieur will doubtless gathermuch information," he said ironically and with a covert meaning at thatmoment not appreciated by Carter. "Monsieur must travel that way. Heshould not turn back," and with a nod of his head he indicated a troopof cavalry guarding the way along which the travelers had approached.

  The significance of this was not lost on Carter who was now convincedthat this was an army of Krovitzers and that his innocent inquiry hadbrought him under some sort of suspicion. Though he was burning up withcuriosity to learn if it was the patriotic army, he wisely refrainedfrom asking. With a short laugh he turned back to the Gray Man.

  "I never turn back," he said. "The road toward Schallberg is better, Ihope?"

  "It is easier traveling, monsieur," the fellow replied insolently withan unchanging smile.

  Carter was satisfied from this that if he used discretion he would bepermitted to reach Schallberg or the army probably investing it. Hegave the necessary orders to Carrick and without undue haste while inthe vicinity of the inn the automobile proceeded on its quest.

  When out of earshot of the hostelry, the Cockney, who had been a silentobserver of the controversy, gave a prodigious sigh of relief.

  "I wouldn't trust that grinning ape with a dead pup. 'E's a sly one.'Opes we don't run into 'im again."

  "I don't like him, either. I have a feeling, though, that we'll meet himagain soon and like him less."