The Second Seal
Page 66
Ilona continued to play nervously with her sash, but she knew that etiquette forbade them to interrupt her, and went on jerkily:
“How surprised you must have been when you found your prisoner gone this morning. And the poor priest all tied up in his bed. What a wicked man Count Königstein must be to have done all these terrible things. We thought he was a nihilist at first until we recognised him: then it came out how he had got hold of his priest’s clothes. I am terribly proud to have caught such a slippery customer after he had managed to get away from such clever people as yourselves. He gave us very little trouble, though, and after a time seemed quite resigned. But what a fool he must be to have come here instead of swimming the river while he had the chance. He wanted me to get him a new trial in Vienna, you know. I wouldn’t hear of it. I felt that he should get what he deserved.”
Major Ronge regarded her with a tolerant smile. He guessed that she meant another chance to escape. But he was not worried. Count Zelltin had had his troops out in the mountains for the past three hours. If, as he suspected now, she had provided the prisoner with a change of clothes and sent him off soon after she had telephoned, he would not get very far. There were many hours of daylight yet, and they would have him back in gaol again before the evening.
“Of course,” remarked Ilona. “There are fools, and fools, aren’t there? He may not have neglected his chance to get away across the Rhine this morning because he is a born fool, but because he was fool enough to risk his life for a few moments with the woman he loves. I wonder if you had thought of that?”
Count Zelltin continued to look blank and to fidget uncomfortably, but Major Ronge permitted himself a slight smile. He had certainly thought of that; and he was sure too that he was witnessing the spectacle of a desperate woman fighting for time to give the man she loved a chance to escape from death. He did not think, though, that she could keep it up for very much longer; and he was right.
Ilona stood up, and said: “I expect you would like to see my prisoner. Come with me, and I will take you to him.”
As they followed her from the room, the K.S. Chief hid a grin. He could guess what was going to happen now. She would take them to the cellar, unlock the door, and they would find it empty. Probably the bars of a small window in it would have been forced aside, and she would exclaim with pretended astonishment at the clever prisoner having got away again.
But she did not take them to the cellar. Instead, she led them to a door that opened into the largest room in the châlet. Outside it, she turned, and said with an excited laugh:
“I expect you are wondering why I am wearing my hair loose? But, as I told you, I am leaving Austria. I had it done that way this morning to symbolise my new freedom.” Then she opened the door and they followed her into the room.
In it were a dozen people: Sárolta and Marie Nopsca, both, like Ilona, in evening dress; Adam Grünne and an elderly man who was Ilona’s new equerry, both in full dress uniform; her secretary, her chaplain, her reader, nurses and servants. On a table at one end of the room a cold buffet was spread and in ice-buckets there were several magnums of champagne. All those present held a glass of wine in their hands. Near the table stood de Richleau, dressed in tails and a white tie.
Ilona led Count Zelltin and Major Ronge up to him. As her eyes met his, her nervousness disappeared. With her sweetest smile, she said to them:
“Gentlemen. Here is my prisoner. He came here because of his great love for me. And I love him so much that I could not bear to let him go. At half past two this afternoon I am taking him to Switzerland. I hope that you will join us in a glass of wine to wish us luck on our journey; and to console yourselves for the thought that in the four hours before we leave it would be quite impossible for you to get a document from Vienna empowering you to stop us.”
She paused for a moment, laughed with the splendid gaiety of youth that has broken all the bonds of care, and cried:
“I need hardly remind you that no member of the Imperial family can be arrested without a signed order from the Emperor. And half an hour ago my chaplain enabled me to increase the family circle.”
Taking de Richleau’s arm, she added: “It is my pleasure, gentlemen, to present you to my husband.”
1Note: Some accounts of these events in Sarajevo suggest that Franz Ferdinand entered the town about 10 a.m. and lunched at the Town Hall. I have preferred to follow the Rt. Hon. Winston S. Churchill, who states (Vol. 1, p.51. The Great War. Illustrated edition. George Newnes 1933) “On the afternoon of June 28 the Archduke and his wife entered Sarajevo”. (my italics) D.W.
A Note on the Author
DENNIS WHEATLEY
Dennis Wheatley (1897 – 1977) was an English author whose prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world's best-selling writers from the 1930s through the 1960s.
Wheatley was the eldest of three children, and his parents were the owners of Wheatley & Son of Mayfair, a wine business. He admitted to little aptitude for schooling, and was expelled from Dulwich College, London. In 1919 he assumed management of the family wine business but in 1931, after a decline in business due to the depression, he began writing.
His first book, The Forbidden Territory, became a bestseller overnight, and since then his books have sold over 50 million copies worldwide. During the 1960s, his publishers sold one million copies of Wheatley titles per year, and his Gregory Sallust series was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming’s James Bond stories.
During the Second World War, Wheatley was a member of the London Controlling Section, which secretly coordinated strategic military deception and cover plans. His literary talents gained him employment with planning staffs for the War Office. He wrote numerous papers for the War Office, including suggestions for dealing with a German invasion of Britain.
Dennis Wheatley died on 11th November 1977. During his life he wrote over 70 books and sold over 50 million copies.
Discover books by Dennis Wheatley published by Bloomsbury Reader at
www.bloomsbury.com/DennisWheatley
Duke de Richleau
The Forbidden Territory
The Devil Rides Out
The Golden Spaniard
Three Inquisitive People
Strange Conflict
Codeword Golden Fleece
The Second Seal
The Prisoner in the Mask
Vendetta in Spain
Dangerous Inheritance
Gateway to Hell
Gregory Sallust
Black August
Contraband
The Scarlet Impostor
Faked Passports
The Black Baroness
V for Vengeance
Come into My Parlour
The Island Where Time Stands Still
Traitors’ Gate
They Used Dark Forces
The White Witch of the South Seas
Julian Day
The Quest of Julian Day
The Sword of Fate
Bill for the Use of a Body
Roger Brook
The Launching of Roger Brook
The Shadow of Tyburn Tree
The Rising Storm
The Man Who Killed the King
The Dark Secret of Josephine
The Rape of Venice
The Sultan’s Daughter
The Wanton Princess
Evil in a Mask
The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware
The Irish Witch
Desperate Measures
Molly Fountain
To the Devil a Daughter
The Satanist
Lost World
They Found Atlantis
Uncharted Seas
The Man Who Missed the War
Espionage
Mayhem in Greece
The Eunuch of Stamboul
The Fabulous Valley
The Strange Story of Linda Lee
Such Power is Dangerous
The Secret War
Science Fiction
Sixty Days to Live
Star of Ill-Omen
Black Magic
The Haunting of Toby Jugg
The KA of Gifford Hillary
Unholy Crusade
Short Stories
Mediterranean Nights
Gunmen, Gallants and Ghosts
This electronic edition published in 2013 by Bloomsbury Reader
Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,
London WC1B 3DP
First published in Great Britain 1950 by Hutchinson & Co.
Copyright © 1950 Dennis Wheatley
All rights reserved
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make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means
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publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication
may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
The moral right of the author is asserted.
eISBN: 9781448212637
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