by Anthony Hope
XVII
INGENIOUS COLONEL STAFNITZ
After his happy holiday the Prince slept well, and rose in a cheerfulmood--still joyful of heart. He anticipated that the day would bring hima summons from his father; he had little doubt that in the course of apersonal interview he could persuade the King to agree to a postponementof his journey. Of Sophy he meant to say nothing--by a reservationnecessary and not inexcusable. It was impossible not to take intoaccount the knowledge he had acquired of the state of the King's health.The result of that condition was that his provision must, in alllikelihood, be for months only, and not for years. The task for themonths was to avoid disturbing the King's mind, so long as this coursewas consistent with the maintenance of his own favorable position. Itmust be remembered that no man in the kingdom built more on this latterobject than the King himself; no man was less a partisan of CountessEllenburg and of young Alexis than the husband of the one and the fatherof the other. The royal line--the line which boasted Bourbon blood--wasfor the King the only line of Stefanovitch.
Of the attack prepared against him the Prince knew nothing--nothing evenof the King's mind having been turned against the Baroness Dobrava,whom so short a time ago he had delighted to honor; nothing, of course,of Stafnitz's audacious _coup_, nor of the secret plan which Stenovicsand the Colonel had made, and of which Mistitch was to be theinstrument. Of all the salient features of the situation, then, he wasignorant, and his ignorance was shared by those about his person. On theother hand, Stenovics had his finger on every thread save one--theLepage-Zerkovitch thread, if it may so be called. That was important,but its importance might be nullified if Mistitch made good speed.
On the whole, the odds were much in favor of the coterie. If by anymeans they could prevent the King from coming alive and free to Slavna,the game would be theirs. If he did come alive and free, their gamewould probably be up. His presence would mean a hard fight--or asurrender; and Slavna had no stomach for such a fight--though it wouldbe piously thankful to be rid of Sergius, whether as Prince or King,without the necessity of an ordeal so severe.
As a preliminary to the summons he anticipated, and to a possible stayof some days with his father at Slavna, the Prince had details todiscuss and routine business to transact with Lukovitch, the captain ofhis battery in Volseni. He was early on horseback; Sophy and Max vonHollbrandt (Max's stay at the Castle was to end the next day) rode withhim as far as the gates of the city; there they left him and turned downinto the plain, to enjoy a canter on the banks of Lake Talti. The threewere to meet again for the mid-day meal at Praslok. Marie Zerkovitch hadbeen ailing, and kept her bed in the morning. The Prince's mounted guardrode behind him and his friends to Volseni, for the sake of exercisingtheir horses. In the Castle there were left only Marie Zerkovitch andthe servants. The Prince did not anticipate that any message would comefrom the Palace before noon at the earliest.
Morning avocations pursued their usual peaceful and simple course at theCastle; old Vassip, his wife, and the maids did their cleaning; PeterVassip saw to his master's clothes, and then, to save his father labor,began to sluice the wooden causeway; the stablemen groomed theirhorses--they had been warned that the Prince might want another mountlater in the day. Marie Zerkovitch lay in her bed, sleeping soundlyafter a restless night. There seemed no hint of trouble in the air. Itmust be confessed that up to now it looked as though Praslok would becaught napping.
It was Peter Vassip, busy on the causeway, who first saw Zerkovitch. Herested and leaned on his mop to watch the head which rose over the hill,the body that followed, the farm-horse lumbering along in a slow,clumsy, unwilling gallop. The man was using stick and spur--he wasriding mercilessly. Peter ran down to the road and waited. A groom cameacross from the stables and joined him.
"He's got no call to treat the horse like that, whoever he is," thegroom observed.
"Not unless he's on urgent business," said Peter, twirling the waterfrom his mop.
Zerkovitch was up to them; he leaped from his horse. "I must see thePrince," he cried, "and immediately!"
"The Prince is at Volseni, sir; he rode over to see Captain Lukovitch."
"When will he be back?"
"We don't expect him till twelve o'clock."
Zerkovitch snatched out his watch.
"There's nobody here but Madame Zerkovitch, sir; she's still in bed, notvery well, sir."
"Twelve o'clock!" muttered Zerkovitch, paying no heed to the news abouthis wife.
"The Baroness and Baron von Hollbrandt are out riding--"
"Can you give me a fresh horse? I must ride on and find the Prince atVolseni."
"Oh yes, sir." He signed to the groom. "And hurry up!" he added.
"The guard's here, of course?"
"No, sir. They've gone with the Prince."
Zerkovitch twitched his head irritably and again looked at his watch."There must be time," he said. "They can't be here at soonest for anhour and a half."
Peter Vassip did not understand him, but neither did he venture to askquestions.
"Your horse 'll be here in a minute, sir. I think you'll find the Princein his office over the city gate. He went to do business, not to drill,this morning."
Zerkovitch looked at him for a moment, wondering, perhaps, whether hewould be wise to tell his news. But what was the use of telling PeterVassip? Or his own wife? What could she do? It was for the Prince to saywho should be told. The one thing was to find the Prince. There wastime--at the very least an hour and a half.
The groom brought the fresh horse, and Zerkovitch began to mount.
"A glass of wine, sir?" Peter Vassip suggested. He had markedZerkovitch's pale face and strained air; he had wondered to see hisclothes sprinkled with whitey-brown fibres--traces of the sack underwhose cover he had slid out of Slavna.
Zerkovitch was in the saddle. "No," he answered. "But a bumper, Peter,when I've found the Prince!" He set spurs to his horse and was off at agallop for Volseni; the road, though high on the hills, was nearly levelnow.
Peter scratched his head as he looked after him for a moment; then hereturned to his mop.
He was just finishing his task, some twenty minutes later, when he heardSophy's laugh. She and Hollbrandt came from a lane which led up from thelake and joined the main road a hundred yards along towards Volseni.Peter ran and took their horses, and they mounted the causeway inleisurely, pleasant chat. Sophy was in her sheepskin uniform; her cheekswere pale, but the Star glowed. The world seemed good to her thatmorning.
"And that is, roughly, the story of my life," she said with a laugh, asshe reached the top of the causeway and leaned against the rudebalustrade which ran up the side of it.
"A very interesting one--even very remarkable," he said, returning herlaugh. "But much more remains to be written, I don't doubt, Baroness."
"Something, perhaps," said Sophy.
"A good deal, I imagine!"
She shot a mischievous glance at him: she knew that he was trying tolure from her an avowal of her secret. "Who can tell? It all seems likea dream sometimes, and dreams end in sudden awakenings, you know."
"If it's a dream, you make an excellent dream-lady, Baroness."
Peter Vassip put his mop and pail down by the stables, and came up andstood beside them.
"Did the mare carry you well to-day, sir?" he asked Max.
"Admirably, Peter. We had a splendid ride--at least I thought so. I hopethe Baroness--?"
Sophy threw out her arms as though to embrace the gracious world. "Ithought it beautiful; I think everything beautiful to-day. I think youbeautiful, Baron von Hollbrandt--and Peter is beautiful--and so is yourmother, and so is your father, Peter. And I half believe that, just thismorning--this one splendid morning--I'm beautiful myself. Yes, in spiteof this horrible mark on my cheek!"
"I hear something," said Peter Vassip.
"Just this morning--this one splendid morning--I agree with you,"laughed Max. "Not even the mark shall change my mind! Come, you love themark--the Red
Star--don't you?"
"Well, yes," said Sophy, with a little, confidential nod and smile.
"I hear something," said Peter Vassip, with his hand to his ear.
Sophy turned to him, smiling. "What do you hear, Peter?"
He gave a sudden start of recollection. "Ah, has that anything to dowith Monsieur Zerkovitch?"
"Monsieur Zerkovitch?" broke from them both.
"He's been here; he's ridden at a gallop on to Volseni--to find thePrince." He added briefly all there was to add--his hand at his ear allthe time.
"Hum! That looks like news," said Max. "What can it be?"
"He didn't stop even to tell Marie! It must be urgent."
They looked in one another's faces. "Can there be--be anything wrong inSlavna?"
"You mean--the troops?"
"I had thought of that."
"I can think of nothing but that. If it were anything from the Palace,it would come by a royal courier sooner than by any other hand."
"I can hear plainly now," said Peter Vassip. "Listen!"
They obeyed him, but their ears were not so well trained. A dull,indefinite sound was all they could distinguish.
"Horses--a number of them. Mounted men it must be--the hoofs are soregular. Cavalry!"
"It's the Prince coming back from Volseni!" cried Sophy.
"No, it's from the other direction; and, besides, there are too many forthat."
Mounted men on the Slavna road--and too many to be the Prince's guard!
"What can it be?" asked Sophy in a low voice.
"I don't know. Zerkovitch's arrival must be connected with the samething, I think."
"There! There are their shakoes coming over the rise of the hill!" criedPeter Vassip.
The next moment showed the company. They rode in fours, with sergeantson the flanks. The officer in command was behind--the three on thecauseway could not see him yet. They were Hussars of the King's Guard,the best regiment in the army. The Prince of Slavna had made them goodsoldiers--they hated him for it. But Stafnitz was their colonel. On theycame; in their blue tunics and silver braid they made a brave show inthe sunshine.
The three watched now without word or motion. The sudden sight held themspellbound. Not one of them thought of sending to warn the Prince. Ifthey had, the thought would have been useless, unless it had chimed inwith Mistitch's will. Twenty men could have been on them before therewas time to saddle a horse. If the expedition were a hostile one, theCastle was caught napping in very truth!
Sophy stood forward a pace in front of her companions; her hand restedon the little revolver which Monseigneur had given her.
On came the company; the foremost file reached within twenty yards ofthe causeway. There they halted. Half of them dismounted, each man as hedid so intrusting his horse to his next fellow. Half of the fifty thusleft mounted repeated this operation, leaving the remaining twenty-fivein charge of all the horses. The seventy-five took position, four deep,on the road. They separated, lining either side.
The figure of their commander now appeared. He rode to the foot of thecauseway, then dismounted, and gave his horse to the sergeant whoattended him. His men followed and drew up in the road, blocking theapproach to the Castle. Big Mistitch began to ascend the causeway, abroad smile on his face. It was a great moment for Captain Hercules--theday of revenge for which he had waited in forced patience and discreetunobtrusiveness. It was a critical day, also, in view of theinstructions he had. To do him justice, he was not afraid.
Sophy saw and knew. This must have been the news that Zerkovitchcarried, that he had galloped on to tell to the Prince at Volseni. Someevent--some unknown and untoward turn of fortune--had loosed Mistitch onthem! That was all she had time to realize before Mistitch saluted herand spoke.
"I have the honor of addressing the Baroness Dobrava?"
"You know me well, I think, Captain Mistitch, and I know you."
"Our journey together will be all the pleasanter for that."
"Your business with me, please?"
"I have it in command from his Majesty to escort you to Slavna--to thePalace and into his presence. The King himself will then acquaint youwith his wishes."
"You're a strange messenger to send."
"That's a point to put to my superior officer, Colonel Stafnitz, whosent me, Baroness."
Sophy pointed at his men. "You ride strongly supported!"
"Again the Colonel's orders, Baroness. I confess the precautions seemedto me excessive. I had no doubt you would willingly obey his Majesty'scommands. Here, by-the-way, is the written order." He produced the orderthe King had signed before his death.
Sophy had been thinking. Neither her courage nor her cunning forsookher. She waved the document away. "I can take your word, Captain? You'remaking no mistake to-day?--I really am Baroness Dobrava--not somebodyelse with whom you have a feud?" She laughed at him gayly and went on:"Well, I'm ready. I'm dressed for a ride--and I'll ride with youimmediately. In two minutes we'll be off." She saw a groom in the roadstaring at the troopers, and called to him to bring her a horse.
This prompt obedience by no means suited Mistitch's book. It forced himeither to show his hand or to ride off with Sophy, leaving the Prince tohis devices--and, in a little while, to his revenge.
"I mustn't hurry you. You have some preparations--?"
"None," said Sophy. Her horse was led out into the road.
"You'll at least desire to acquaint his Royal Highness--?"
"Not at all necessary. Baron von Hollbrandt can do that later on."
Mistitch looked puzzled. Sophy smiled; her intuition had been right. Theattack on her was a feint, her arrest a blind; the Prince was the realobject of the move. She stepped down towards Mistitch.
"I see my horse is ready. We can start at once, Captain," she said.
"I'm instructed to express to the Prince regret that it should benecessary--"
"The regret will be conveyed to him. Come, Captain!"
But Mistitch barred her way.
"His Royal Highness is in the Castle?" he asked. His voice grew angrynow; he feared the great stroke had failed; he saw that Sophy playedwith him. How would he and his escort look riding back to Slavna withnothing to show for their journey save the capture of one unresistingwoman--a woman whom they dared not harm while the Prince remained free,and might become all-powerful?
"If he had been, you'd have known it by now, I think," smiled Sophy."No, the Prince isn't at the Castle."
"I'll see that for myself!" Mistitch cried, taking a step forward.
With a low laugh Sophy drew aside, passed him, and ran down thecauseway. In an instant she darted between the ranks of Mistitch's menand reached her horse. The groom mounted her. She looked up to Mistitchand called to him gayly:
"Now for Slavna, Captain! And hurry, or you'll be left behind!"
Her wit was too quick for him. Max von Hollbrandt burst out laughing;Peter Vassip grinned.
"What are you waiting for, Captain?" asked Max. "Your prisoner's onlytoo anxious to go with you, you see!"
"I'll search the Castle first!" he cried in a rage which made him forgethis part.
Peter Vassip sprang forward and barred the way. Mistitch raised hismighty arm. But Sophy's voice rang out gayly:
"Nonsense, Peter! There's nothing to conceal. Let the Captain pass!"
Her words stopped Mistitch--he feared a trap. Max saw it and mocked him."Don't be afraid, Captain--take fifty men in with you. The garrisonconsists of a lady in bed, an old man, and five female servants."
Sophy heard and laughed. Even the troopers began to laugh now. Mistitchstood on the top of the causeway, irresolute, baffled, furious.
But behind his stupidity lay the cunning astuteness of Stafnitz, theingenious bit of devilry. Mistitch's name availed where his brain couldnot. For the moment the Prince made little of the Crown which had becomehis; when he heard Zerkovitch's news, his overpowering thought was thatthe woman he loved might be exposed to the power and the insults ofMistitch
. Sophy was playing a skilful game for him, but he did not knowit.
"I hear something," said Peter Vassip again, whispering to Max vonHollbrandt.
Yes, there was the galloping of horses on the Volseni road!
Colonel Stafnitz had not miscalculated.
Now Mistitch heard the sound. His heavy face brightened. He ran down thecauseway, loudly ordering his men to mount. He was no longer at a loss.He had his cue now--the cue Stafnitz had given him.