The Second Seal

by Dennis Wheatley

  “No, no, Armand!”

  “Yes, I mean that.” His grey eyes bored down into hers. “To be the cause of your refusing to obey your doctor’s orders while in your present state, is too high a price for you to expect me to pay for my liberty.”

  She sighed and turned her head a little sideways. “How can I stand my ground when you use such threats?”

  “I use them only because I love you so desperately.”

  “Yet you would drive me away.”

  “God knows I prize every moment with you, and do so only out of fear that if you stay you may kill yourself.”

  “Very well, then. I will go.” Her voice trembled. “There! Are you satisfied?”

  He stooped to kiss her. “I feel like an officer who has taken his objective only at the price of the lives of all his men. That is how barren and bitter this victory is for me.”

  “But what of you?” she asked, putting up a hand to stroke his cheek. “Have you thought yet of what course to take?”

  “I think this idea of my joining the regiment actively an excellent one; at least as a temporary measure.”

  “Unfortunately it is going to the front quite soon.”

  A soft knock came on the door. At Ilona’s call to come in, Sárolta opened it, bobbed an automatic curtsy, and said: “I came to warn your Highness that you have only a little over five more minutes; then your nurse will be coming to settle you down for the night.”

  “Can you not tell her to come later?” exclaimed the Duke in dismay.

  Ilona smiled and squeezed his hand. “That is almost the first nice thing you have said Tonight. But I have a better plan. Ask Adam to take you up to his rooms for half an hour; then come back to me when my nurse has gone.”

  “That’s a much better idea,” Sárolta agreed. “Nurse looked quite upset when I told her after dinner that you meant to sit up for an hour later than usual. Goodness knows what she would say if I had to put her off till midnight.”

  Adam had been sitting in the boudoir with Sárolta. When the Duke joined him they made another cautious progress through dimly lit corridors and up the back stairs to the floor above, where he had his suite. As he switched on the light in his cheerful sitting-room, he said:

  “I’ve had a bed made up for you here. I thought you’d prefer that to going to an hotel without your kit or anything; and I can lend you things for the night.”

  “That’s awfully good of you,” the Duke said with real feeling. “I’m afraid I’ve caused you an immense amount of trouble in these past few months, through falling in love with Ilona.”

  The Count gave a gallant flick of his curly moustache. “Oh, don’t think of it. I’ll admit I was a bit worried at first; but with little Sárolta pushing me on I soon got to accept the situation. Royalty aren’t like other people, you know. Most of them are brought up all wrong, and Ilona’s no exception. One would have to have a heart of stone not to feel sorry for any girl who’s had her life. But she’s weathered it better than most of them do. She often behaves like a child or a fool, but there is something basically decent in her nature that makes us all love her. She deserved somebody like you, and I’m glad you came along.”

  “Thanks,” said the Duke. “You couldn’t pay me a higher compliment; particularly as I’ve more than once compromised you to a point that might have cost you your job.”

  “I’d have been a bit of a rotter if I’d let that stand in the way of her having her romance,” Adam said seriously. Then he added, with a sudden grin, “Anyhow, I don’t give a damn what happens now Sárolta’s papa has agreed to our engagement. He can’t go back on that.”

  “Oh, I am glad!” De Richleau held out his hand. “You’re not only a lucky fellow, but you deserve your luck. I do congratulate you most heartily. When did this happen?”

  “Russia’s declaration of war did the trick. It gave us an excuse to press the old boy into agreeing, but the actual announcement wasn’t published till last Saturday. More engagements have been announced in the Court circular these past ten days than usually appear in a whole season. Strange, isn’t it, how many young people had to wait till they might soon be dead, before old fogies would permit them to enjoy their happiness.”

  “Are you off to the wars, then?”

  “Not just yet, but I soon shall be. Whatever happened I wouldn’t care to remain in a Court post while all my friends go to the front. As things are I shall go down to Hohenembs for a week or so with Ilona. But once she is settled in there she won’t need me. Marie Nopsca will look after her while Sárolta takes some leave, and we plan to get married from her people’s house in Budapest about the 25th. War or no war, we mean to take a fortnight’s honeymoon, then Sárolta will return to Hohenembs and I shall go north to join the regiment.”

  De Richleau looked at him gravely. “You have never been on active service, have you?”

  “No, but I’m looking forward to it immensely.”

  “Then will you permit me as an old soldier to give you a few tips?”

  “I’d be delighted to have them.”

  “First, then, never forget that more men die of disease and gangrene in wars than from shells and bullets. Before you go to the front get a good doctor to inoculate you against tetanus and typhus. It’s painful, but worth it. Take a big tin of permanganate of potash in your kit, and carry a little of it on you. Never drink still water from a well or ditch without first putting a few of the crystals in it. Take the trouble to learn how to apply bandages and tourniquets to yourself without aid. Always carry two field-dressing packs and a slab of chocolate on you. Never touch your spirit flask if you have been wounded in the head. Carry a few morphia tablets so that you can dull your pain if you are badly wounded; and some chlorodyne against attacks of dysentery. Body lice are one of the almost inevitable unpleasantnesses of war, so keep yourself well supplied with insect powder. Get some leather or fur lined garments and rubber boots and take them with you. As soon as you reach the front line sacrifice smartness of appearance for warm and comfortable clothes. Winter will soon be here, and on the northern front you will be fighting in snow. Take a pair of dark glasses: they will save your eyes. If you go out on a night patrol in snow, wear a mask to protect your face from frost bite, and give your nose and ears a rub every few minutes. On the other hand, if you are not fighting in snow, never wear anything white up in the line at night. Never be the third to light a cigarette off the same match. That is not a superstition; the sniper on the other side has time to aim while the other two are lighting up, and gets the third man. Don’t rely on matches; carry a flint and tinder lighter. Take some extra sponge bags to protect your cigarettes and other things from the wet. Don’t bother with a sword unless you are mounted. It is of little use against a man with a rifle and bayonet, and will only get in your way. Don’t use your pistol at more than ten short paces, and aim low down at your antagonist’s body; not at his head. For night work by far the best weapons are a loaded riding crop and a stiletto. Never attack an enemy behind barbed wire unless you are quite certain that it has first been cut. Don’t be ashamed to fling yourself flat on the ground directly you come under fire, and make it a rule that the last man to follow your example gets a fatigue when the scrap is over. Dead soldiers are no further good to their country and every casualty is a liability. Never expose yourself unless your men look like running away: then, stand up to give them new confidence, but keep behind them and, without a moment’s hesitation, shoot the first fellow you see trying to sneak off. Inspect your men’s feet daily. Make them treat prisoners as they would be treated themselves. If you take more than one prisoner when alone, make them take off their boots and tie them round their necks. With bare feet there is much less chance of their trying any tricks. Buy the smallest automatic you can find and carry it concealed under your left armpit. If you are taken prisoner yourself the odds are all against your being searched before you reach the cage. Having a baby pistol on you may give you the chance to turn the tables on your captor
before you get there. And take a small down pillow with you. However hard the place you have to lie on, you’ll get sound sleep if you can rest your head on something soft.”

  “There!” de Richleau ended with a smile. “They say that old soldiers never die, and if you can remember all that you’ll stand a better chance than most people of coming through.”

  Count Adam looked a little doubtful. “You seem to be thinking of an entirely different kind of warfare from anything we have ever been trained for; and I can see some of our Generals having an apoplectic fit if they found their cavalry lying down to fight.”

  “They’ll learn,” remarked the Duke acidly. “It will probably take a bit of time, but when the casualty lists reach the hundred thousand mark, they’ll start to wake up to the fact that wars are no longer fought as they were in the 1870’s.”

  “Anyhow,” Adam grinned, “I’m immensely grateful for all your tips. As a peace time soldier I would never have thought of half of them, and I shall make a list Tonight of things to take.”

  “Good. There’s one other thing I’d like to do for you if I may have a pen and a piece of notepaper.”

  “Of course!” The Count motioned towards a small escritoire. “You will find everything in there.”

  Sitting down at it, de Richleau wrote a short note in Russian, blotted it, and handed it to his friend. “Put that in your pocket-book and keep it carefully. It is a line to my second cousin, the Grand Duke Nicholas, who is the Commander-in-Chief of the Russian Armies. If you have the misfortune to be taken prisoner permanently it will ensure you good treatment while in Russian hands.”

  “Really! You are too kind.”

  “Not at all. I am only too pleased to do anything I can to show the gratitude I feel for all that you and Sárolta have done for me.”

  For twenty minutes longer they continued to talk of soldiering, then at midnight they crept downstairs again and Sárolta re-introduced the Duke into Ilona’s room. But as the pretty Hungarian was about to leave them, Ilona said:

  “Sárolta, please call Adam and come in with him. I want to talk to you both about Armand getting back to England.”

  When they were all settled, she went on with a sad smile: “Armand tells me that you two have conspired with Dr. Bruckner to carry me off to Hohenembs to-morrow. I simply hate the idea now, but Armand has forced me to agree; so Tonight is the last chance we shall have to help him plan how to get away. Have either of you any ideas how he could evade that horrid Major Ronge’s police?”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t at the moment,” Adam replied. “You see, his position is a most extraordinary one. They can’t charge him with any criminal act, but they can arrest him at any time as an enemy alien; so he’s a sort of ticket-of-leave man. By rights he should be in an internment camp now, but he has been let out owing to your Highness’ influence, and on certain conditions. They are that he should serve with your regiment. That puts him in an even more extraordinary position, as it is an unheard-of thing for a known enemy to be allowed to fulfil the functions of an officer in our army. However, Ronge appears to think that he can do little harm there; but, at the same time, has made it plain that if the Duke attempts to leave Vienna he will pounce on him at once.”

  “And we can be certain that he will have me watched,” added de Richleau. “So I fear I shall stand little chance of getting away until I can procure some really good disguise.”

  “It won’t be easy to do that if you are being shadowed,” put in Sárolta.

  “No.” Adam agreed. “And Ronge warned us that he meant to put his railway police on the job. They are pretty good at spotting people who are made up to look like someone else; and I greatly doubt if you would get as far as the frontier.”

  Sárolta suddenly clapped her hands. “I have it! Why shouldn’t he travel with us to Hohenembs to-morrow as one of Her Highness’ suite? We could dress him up as a woman. A nurse’s uniform would serve the purpose splendidly, and I could easily get one. Once we get him to Hohenembs he could slip across the border into Switzerland.”

  “Oh darling, bless you! What a marvellous idea!” exclaimed Ilona.

  But de Richleau shook his head. “I’m afraid that is quite out of the question. Apart from the risk of my disguise being penetrated on the journey, too many people would have to be in the secret. One of the servants or real nurses would be certain to talk afterwards; then the fat would be in the fire with a vengeance. Not only would there be ugly rumours about Ilona having aided an enemy spy to escape, but all Vienna would then believe that I must have been her lover. Nothing would induce me to risk that.”

  For half an hour they talked fruitlessly round the subject, then Adam said, “I wonder what line Ronge will take when the regiment leaves for the front?”

  De Richleau shrugged. “As far as one can guess he won’t take any action as long as I remain in some employment at the depot.”

  “I was wondering if you would care to leave with the regiment.”

  “What! For the Russian front?”

  “Yes. Once you were within riding distance of the enemy you could say you were going out on a reconnaissance, and get yourself captured. Of course, it would mean your going the long way home, but since you are a relative of the Grand Duke Nicholas I’ve no doubt the Russians would give you every help to get down to Constantinople, or to a Norwegian port, as quickly as possible.”

  The Duke had as yet had no time to think out a plan for himself. Given a well thought out disguise and a fair start, he was far more confident than were his friends of his ability to slip past Major Ronge’s police; but the disguise and the start remained major problems, and he felt that, all things considered, Count Adam’s suggestion entailed less risk. So he said:

  “That’s an excellent idea. The only snag I see to it is that, while Ronge appears willing to let an enemy alien kick his heels on a barrack square in Vienna, he may not be at all prepared to allow one to go to the front as a serving officer.”

  Adam shrugged his broad shoulders. “Vienna is the headquarters of three Armies and the greatest military dispersal point in the Empire. Scores of formations are leaving every week, and it is most unlikely that Ronge makes a daily check up on all military movements. I think the odds are all against his learning that Her Imperial Highness’ Hussars have left for the front until several days after their departure.”

  “He will if he has me watched,” disagreed the Duke.

  “Yes. I suppose you are right there. But it’s unlikely he will suspect that you intend to go with them; and his police won’t be watching the military trains for you. As he thinks you want to get to England I doubt if it will even enter his head that you might go by way of Russia. When he learns you have disappeared he will imagine that you have made a bolt for the Swiss or Italian frontier, and concentrate his efforts on trying to head you off in that direction.”

  After some further discussion they all agreed that Count Adam’s plan offered the best chance of the Duke getting out of the country; so it was decided to adopt it. Ilona then asked her lover:

  “Are you very tired?”

  He smiled. “I am not too tired to sit up with you, as I should like to do. If I may, I will sit here all night while you sleep.”

  “I hoped you would say that,” she smiled back; “but I don’t intend to sleep. Every moment of the time will be too precious. Sárolta darling, will you be an angel and doze on the settee in the boudoir, in case nurse or the old Aulendorf come to take a peep at me? If one of them do, you can say that I was restless and you have been reading to me; but that I’ve just dropped off and they’re not to open my door, as it might wake me again.”

  “Of course I will.” Sárolta kissed her fingers to her beautiful mistress, then she took her fiancé’s arm. “Come along, Adam. You’ve made me quite proud of you Tonight. I know Ilona Theresa’s Hussars are celebrated for their gallantry, but I never thought any of them kept such a good brain as yours under his busby.”

  “That’s not
hing to what I will teach you in a fortnight’s time,” grinned Adam.

  When they had left the room, de Richleau pulled his chair nearer to Ilona’s bed and took her hand. Both of them were now resigned to their parting and they did not refer to it again. Instead, while the night hours slipped by, they talked quietly of many things. Of the ball at Dorchester House, that now seemed a lifetime away; of their Channel crossing in the storm; of his playing guide to her at Ischl; of Königstein and their meetings in Vienna. Those lovely memories at least could not be taken from them.

  At length grey streaks of daylight began to appear down the edges of the heavy curtains. Soon afterwards there came a knock at the door, and Sárolta looked in.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but Adam has just come downstairs. It is nearly six o’clock, and he wanted me to warn you that the servants will soon be coming along to clean the rooms and passages.”

  De Richleau stood up. “Then I must be off. It would be disastrous if one of them saw me leaving the Archduchess’ suite at this hour.”

  Sárolta re-closed the door. The lovers embraced. Ilona had already promised to do her utmost to get well quickly. De Richleau had sworn that immediately hostilities ceased he would come back to her. Both of them had vowed to keep one another in their hearts until that happy day. There was no more to be said. She was brave now and did not seek to detain him. With her chin up, dry-eyed and smiling, she sent him from her; hiding her grief until she could give way to it in Sárolta’s arms after he had left her suite with Adam Grünne.

  The wrench of this final parting had shaken de Richleau badly, and when they got upstairs he was very glad to accept some coffee laced with cognac that the Count had ready for him. While he drank it his host outlined plans for the immediate future.

  “I should think,” he said, “that you must need some sleep pretty badly; and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t put in five hours or so here. In any case it would be ill-advised for you to leave the palace until the usual morning callers start popping in and out, and when you do leave it would attract less attention if you were in uniform. I take it yours will be in your trunks, and they’ve been sent to the barracks; so I propose to go round there presently and dig it out for you. You’ll want it this morning, anyhow, as I am taking you to lunch in the mess.”