The George Barr McCutcheon Megapack: 25 Classic Novels and Stories

by George Barr McCutcheon

  “This is luck! We find you almost as soon as we set out to do so. Glory be! You’ve got a fair-sized army, too. We’ll need ’em—and more.”

  “What has happened, King? Where have you been? We looked for you after your disap—”

  “That’s ancient history,” interrupted the other. “How soon can you get these troops on the march? There’s not a moment to be lost.”

  “Good God, man, tell me what it is—what has happened? The Prince? What of him?” cried Tullis, grasping King’s arm in the clutch of a vise.

  “He sends his love and rescinds the order of exile,” said King, smiling. Then seriously: “Marlanx has taken the city. It was all a game, this getting rid of you. He’s superstitious about Americans. There was bomb-throwing in the square and a massacre afterward. The Prince and all the others are besieged in the Castle. I’ll tell you all about it. Hobbs and I are the only men who have got away from the Castle alive. We left last night. Our object was to warn you in time to prevent an ambush. You’ve got to save the throne for Prince Robin. I’ll explain as we go along. I may as well inform you right now that there’s a big force of men waiting for you in the ravine this side of the Monastery. We saw them. Thank God, we got to you in time. You can now take ’em by surprise and—whiff! They’ll run like dogs. Back here a couple of miles we came upon a small gang of real robbers. We had a bit of shooting and—I regret to say—no one was bagged. I’d advise you to have this force pushed along as rapidly as possible. I have a message from your sister, sir.”

  “Loraine? Where is she, King?”

  “Don’t tremble like that, old man. She’s safe enough—in the Castle. Oh, it was a fine game Marlanx had in his mind.”

  While the troopers were making ready for the march, Truxton King and Hobbs related their story to eager, horrified groups of officers. It may be well to say that neither said more of his own exploits than was absolutely necessary to connect the series of incidents. Prince Dantan marvelled anew at this fresh demonstration of Yankee courage and ingenuity. King graphically narrated the tale from beginning to end. The full force of the amazing tragedy was brought home to the pale, half-dazed listeners. There were groans and curses and bitter cries of vengeance. John Tullis was crushed; despair was written in his face, anguish in his eyes.

  What was to become of the Prince?

  “First of all, Tullis, we must destroy these scoundrels who are lying in wait for you in the ravine,” said Prince Dantan. “After that you can be in a position to breathe easily while collecting the army of fighters that Mr. King suggests. Surely, you will be able to raise a large and determined force. My men are at Prince Robin’s disposal. Captain Haas may command them as his own. I deplore the fact that I may not call upon the entire Dawsbergen army. Marlanx evidently knows our laws. Our army cannot go to the aid of a neighbor. We have done so twice in half a century and our people have been obliged to pay enormous indemnity. But there are men here. I am here. We will not turn back, Mr. Tullis. My people will not hold me at fault for taking a hand in this. I shall send messengers to the Princess; she, of course, must know.”

  The battalion, augmented by the misguided company from the deserted railroad camps, moved swiftly into the defile, led by young Rabot. Truxton King rode beside the brother of the girl he loved, uttering words of cheer and encouragement.

  “King, you do put new courage into me. You are surcharged with hope and confidence. By heaven, I believe we can drive out that damned beast and his dogs. We will do it!”

  “There’s a chap named Brutus. I ask special permission to kill him. That’s the only request I have to make.”

  “I very strongly oppose the appeal to Grand Duke Paulus. We must act decisively before that alternative is forced upon the unhappy Halfont. It was Perse’s scheme, months ago. Perse! Confound him, I believe he has worked all along to aid—”

  “Hold on, Tullis,” interrupted King soberly. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you. The Duke was wounded by the dynamiters and I understand he lies on his bed and curses Marlanx from morning till night. He prays constantly that his daughter may be freed from the old scoundrel.”

  “The Countess Ingomede—has anything been heard from her?” asked Tullis. He had been thinking of her for days—and nights.

  “Well, nothing definite,” said King evasively. He was reminded at this moment of his own love affair. Seized by the boldest impulse that had ever come to him, he suddenly blurted out: “Tullis, I love your sister. I have loved her from the beginning. All that has happened in the last week has strengthened my adoration. I think she cares for me, but,—but—”

  “My dear Mr. King, I’m sorry—” began Tullis, genuinely surprised.

  “But it seems that she’s promised to marry Vos Engo. I’ll tell you how it happened.” Then he related the episode of the rout in Castle Avenue. “It’s all wrong for her to marry that chap. If she hasn’t been bullied into it before we get back to her, I’d like to know if you won’t put a stop to his damned impudence. What right has such a fellow as Vos Engo to a good American girl like Loraine? None whatever. Besides, I’m going to fight him when we’re through fighting Marlanx. I want you as my second. Can’t say whether it will be swords, pistols or knuckles. I hope you’ll oblige me. As a matter of fact, I had two primary objects in looking you up out here in the hills. First, to ask you for Loraine; second, to engage you as my second.”

  Tullis was silent for a while. Then he said, quite seriously: “King, I have looked with some favour upon Vos Engo. I thought she liked him. He isn’t a bad fellow, believe me. I want Loraine to be happy. As for this promise to him, I’ll talk that over with her—if God permits me to see her again I shall allow her to choose, King. You or Vos Engo—the one she loves, that’s all. As for seconding you, I am at your service.”

  King beamed. “That means, I take it, that you want me to win at least one of the contests. Well,” with his whimsical, irresistible smile, “it won’t be necessary to try for the other if Vos Engo shoots me in this one.”

  “You will never know the extent of my gratitude, King. You have saved her from a hellish fate. I shall be disappointed in her if she does not choose you. I owe you a debt of gratitude almost as great for saving that dear little boy of—ours. I shall not forget what you have done—never!”

  Early in the afternoon the force under Captain Haas was divided into three companies, for strategic purposes. The plan to surprise and defeat the skulkers in the ravine had been carefully thought out. Two strong companies struck off into the hills; the third and weakest of the trio kept the road, apparently marching straight into the trap. Signals had been arranged. At a given sign the three parties were to swoop down upon the position held by the enemy.

  Several hours passed. The troop in the highroad prepared to camp just below the treacherous pass in which the ambush was known to be laid. Scouts had located the confident rascals in the ravines above the highway. With the news that their prey was approaching, they were being rapidly rushed into position at the head of the pass.

  Shortly before sunset the troop in the road began to advance, riding resolutely into the ravine. Even as the gloating, excited desperadoes prepared to open fire from their hidden position at the head of the pass, their pickets came running in with the word that two large forces were drawing in on them from the north and east.

  The trappers were trapped. They realised that they had been out-generalled, and they understood their deficiencies. Not a man among them knew the finer points of warfare. They were thugs and roustabouts and ill-omened fellows who could stab in the back; they were craven in the face of an open peril.

  There were few shots fired. The men in ambuscade tried to escape to the fastnesses of the hills. Some of them stood ground and fought, only to be mown down by the enemy; others were surrounded and made captive; but few actually succeeded in evading the troopers. All were ready to sue for mercy and to proclaim their willingness to divert allegiance from dictator to Crown. Herded like so many cattle,
guarded like wolves, they were driven city-ward, few if any of them exhibiting the slightest symptom of regret or discomfiture. In fact, they seemed more than philosophic: they were most jovial. These were soldiers of fortune, in the plainest sense. It mattered little with whom they were allied or against whom they fought, so long as the pay was adequate and prompt.

  Indeed, the leaders of the party—officers by grace of lucky tosses—benignly proffered the services of themselves and men in the movement to displace Count Marlanx!

  “He cannot hold out,” said the evil-faced captain in cool derision. “He cannot keep his promises to us. So why should we cut our own throats? All we ask is transportation to Austria after the job’s over. That’s where most of us came from, your Excellencies. Count on us, if you need us. Down with Marlanx!”

  “Long live Prince—” Three-fourths of them stopped there because they did not even know the name of the little ruler.

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE RETURN

  From the highlands below the Monastery, Captain Haas and his men were able to study the situation in the city. The impracticability of an assault on any one of the stubborn, well-guarded gates was at once recognised. A force of seven hundred men, no matter how well trained or determined, could not be expected to surmount walls that had often withstood the attack of as many thousands. The wisdom of delaying until a few thousand loyal, though poorly armed countrymen could be brought into play against the city appealed at once to Prince Dantan and John Tullis.

  Withdrawing to an unexposed cut in the hills, safe from the shells that might be thrown up from the fortress, they established their camps, strongly entrenched and practically invulnerable against any attack from below. Squads of men were sent without delay into the hills and valleys to call the panic-stricken, wavering farmers into the fold. John Tullis headed the company that struck off into the well-populated Ganlook district.

  Marlanx, as if realising the nature of the movement in the hills, began a furious assault on the gates leading to the Castle. The watchers in the hills could see as well as hear the conflict that raged almost at their feet, so to speak. They cheered like mad when the motley army of the usurper was frustrated in the attempt to take the main gates. From the walls about the park, Quinnox’s men, few as they were, sent such deadly volleys into the streets below that the hordes fell back and found shelter behind the homes of the rich. With half an eye, one could see that the rascals were looting the palaces, secure from any opposition on the part of the government forces; through the glasses, scattered crowds of men could be seen carrying articles from the houses; more than one of the mansions went up in flames as the day grew old and the lust of the pillagers increased.

  The next morning, Captain Haas announced to his followers that Marlanx had begun to shell the Castle. Big guns in the fortress were hurling great shells over the city, dropping them in the park. On the other hand, Colonel Quinnox during the night had swung three Gatling guns to the top of the wall; they were stationed at intervals along the wall, commanding every point from which an assault might be expected. It was a well-known fact that there was no heavy ordnance at the Castle. All day long, Marlanx’s men, stationed in the upper stories of houses close to the walls, kept up a constant rifle fire, their bullets being directed against the distant windows of the Castle. That this desultory fusillade met with scant response at the hands of Quinnox, was quite apparent to the uneasy, champing watchers near the Monastery.

  “Marlanx will not begin the actual bombardment until he knows that Tullis is drawing together a formidable force,” prophesied Prince Dantan.

  “But when he does begin the real shelling,” mourned Truxton King, chafing like a lion under the deadly inaction. “I can’t bear the thought of what it means to those inside the Castle. He can blow it to pieces over their heads. Then, from the house tops, he can pick them off like blackbirds. It’s awful! Is there nothing that we can do, Prince? Damn it all, I know we can force a gate. And if we once get in where those cowardly dogs are lording it, you’ll see ’em take the walls like steeple-chasers.”

  “My dear Mr. King,” said Prince Dantan calmly, “you don’t know Colonel Quinnox and the House Guard. The Quinnoxs have guarded Graustark’s rulers for I don’t know how many generations. History does not go back so far, I fear. You may depend on it, there will be no living guardsmen inside those walls when Marlanx lays his hands on the Prince.”

  That night recruits from the farms and villages began to straggle into the camp. They were armed with rifles, ordinary shotguns and antique “blunderbusses;” swords, staves and aged lances. All were willing to die in the service of the little Prince; all they needed was a determined, capable leader to rally them from the state of utter panic. They reported that the Crown foragers might expect cheerful and plenteous tribute from the farmers and stock growers. Only the mountaineers were hostile.

  The army now grew with astonishing rapidity. The recruits were not fighting men in a military sense, but their hearts were true and they hungered for the chance to stamp out the evil that lay at their feet. By the close of the second day nearly three thousand men were encamped above the city. Late that night John Tullis rode into camp at the head of a great company from the Ganlook province. He had retaken the town of Ganlook, seized the fortress, and recruited the entire fighting strength of the neighbourhood. More than that, he had unlimbered and conveyed to the provisional camp two of the big guns that stood above the gates at the fortress. There had been a dozen skirmishes between the regulars and roving bands of desperadoes. A savage fight took place at Ganlook and another in the gap below the witch’s hut. In both of these sanguinary affrays the government forces had come off victorious, splendid omens that did not fail to put confidence into the hearts of the men.

  Marlanx trained two of his big guns on the camp in the hills. From the fortress he threw many futile shells toward their place of shelter. They did no damage; instead of death, they brought only laughter to the scornful camp. Under cover of night, the two Ganlook cannons were planted in a position commanding the southeastern city gate. It was the plan of the new besiegers to bombard this gate, tearing it to pieces with shot. When their force was strong enough offensively, an assault would be flung against this opening. Drill and discipline were necessary, however, before the attempt could be made. In the present chaotic, untrained condition of their forces, an assault would prove not only ineffectual, but disastrous. Day after day the recruits were put through hard drill under the direction of the regular officers. Every day saw the force increased. This made hard work for the drill-masters. The willingness of the recruits, however, lessened the task considerably.

  The knowledge that Marlanx had no big guns except those stationed in the fortress was most consoling to Tullis and his friends. He could not destroy the Castle gates with shells, except by purest chance. He could drop shells into the Castle, but to hit a gate twenty feet wide? Never! Field ordnance was unknown to this country of mountains.

  The Iron Count’s inability to destroy the Castle gates made it feasible for the men in the hills to devote considerable more time to drill and preparation than they might have sacrificed if the conditions were the reverse. They were confident that Quinnox could hold the Castle for many days. With all this in mind, Captain Haas and Prince Dantan beat down the objections of the impatient Americans; the work of preparation against ignominous failure went on as rapidly as possible. Haas would not attack until he was ready, or it became absolutely certain that the men at the Castle were in dire need.

  Signalling between the Castle and the hills had been going on for days. The absence of the “wigwag” system made it impossible to convey intelligible messages.

  Truxton King was growing haggard from worry and loss of sleep. He could not understand the abominable, criminal procrastination. He was of a race that did things with a dash and on the spur of the moment. His soul sickened day by day. John Tullis, equally unhappy, but more philosophical, often found him seated upon a rock at
the top of the ravine, an unlighted pipe in his fingers, his eyes intent upon the hazy Castle.

  “Cheer up, King. Our time will come,” he was wont to say.

  “I’ve just got to do something, Tullis. This standing around is killing me.” Again he would respond: “Don’t forget that I love some one down there, old man. Maybe she’s worrying about me, as well as about you.” Once he gave poor Mr. Hobbs a frightful tongue-lashing and was afterward most contrite and apologetic. Poor Hobbs had been guilty of asking if he had a headache.

  Truxton was assigned to several scouting expeditions, simply to provide him with action and diverting excitement. One of these expeditions determined the impossibility of entering the city through the railroad yards because of the trestle-work and the barricade of freight cars at the gap in the wall.

  They had been in camp for a week. The stategists had practically decided that the assault could be made within a day or two. All was in readiness—or as near as it could be—and all was enthusiasm and excitement.

  “If Haas puts it off another day I’m going to start a round robin, whatever that is,” said Truxton. As he said it to a Dawsbergen officer who could not understand English, it is doubtful if that gentleman’s polite nod of acquiescence meant unqualified approval of the project.

  At first they had built no fires at night. Now the force was so formidable that this precaution was unnecessary. The air was chill and there were tents for but a few of the troopers. The fires in the ravine always were surrounded by great circles of men, eagerly discussing the coming battle. At the upper end of the ravine were the tents of the officers, Prince Dantan and John Tullis. The latter shared his with King and Mr. Hobbs. Up here, the circle about the kindly pile of burning logs was small, select and less demonstrative. Here they smoked in silence most of the time, each man’s thoughts delivered to himself.

  Above, on the jutting rock, sat the disconsolate, lovesick Truxton. It was the night before the proposed assault on the gates. The guns were in position and the cannonading was to begin at daybreak. He was full of the bitterness of doubt and misgiving. Was she in love with Vos Engo? Was the Count’s suit progressing favourably under the fire of the enemy? Was his undoubted bravery having its effect upon the wavering susceptibilities of the distressed Loraine?