“What’s the matter?” I asked with a catch in my breath, shaking him on his little platform.
“The matter,” he replied, striking my hands a few blows with his clumps to make me let go my hold, for my shaking had made him feel giddy, “the matter is that the veiled lady is rarely away from her room, but when she’s in her room she’s seldom alone. An old duenna is nearly always with her and she keeps an eye on her, and is lady companion as well as lady’s maid, so that I’ve often had to suspend operations. However, I’ve filed through one of the bars at the bottom, and half through the bar higher up, and when it’s finished it will be easy for the veiled lady to come out and join us.”
“When do you expect to finish the job?”
“Not till to-morrow night,” replied Potage with a sigh.
I gave a start.
“What! Not till to-morrow night. But what are you doing now?”
“Nothing,” he replied, in a lugubrious voice. “ I’m doing nothing because there’s nothing to be done. Nothing can be done by me until midnight. I can’t go back to my little job again without danger until midnight, Senor.”
“Unhappy youth... at midnight I shall be a dead man.”
I was wrong to inform Potage so abruptly of the mortal peril which threatened me, for the lamentations, protests, explanations which followed made me lose a good quarter of an hour. At last after firing up against him a dozen times in order to keep him quiet, and to prevent him from following me, I was able to leave him and join Lieutenant Smith.
“Goya Castle,” I ordered.
Night had fallen. When we arrived it was quite dark. I had but one hope — that the veiled lady would now write to her husband that she was alive. But she had always been so obstinate in her inconceivable refusal to write that as I entered the Castle I commended my soul to Providence.
Nevertheless I was bound to do my utmost. Von Treischke’s pass soon brought me face to face with his nephew in the Admiral’s own office, and a few minutes later the veiled lady came in.
A somewhat painful scene ensued. Von Treischke’s nephew was, of course, unaware that his uncle and Fritz von Harschfeld were Captain Hyx’s prisoners. I imparted the information in the presence of the veiled lady who at once turned pale and sank into a chair almost fainting. The nephew refused to believe me. I asked him to read again the Admiral’s order, and I pointed out that it was written on “Vengeance” notepaper, which bore the letter V in the middle of a buoy over which were the three letters Hyx.
“The position is clear,” I said, rising to my feet. “I myself am Captain Hyx’s prisoner, and am taking the only step that can save the Admiral and his orderly officer, and I may add my own life as well, for I have been warned that if I do not return to the ‘Vengeance’ with a letter in Madame’s handwriting addressed to her husband, I shall be a dead man at midnight at the latest.” So saying I gazed fixedly at the veiled lady. She appeared to be inwardly in a great state of agitation. I saw her hand tremble on the arm of her chair.
“Impossible,” she said in a low voice that I could scarcely hear her. “You know very well that I will not write.”
I literally exploded. She would not write.... I threw out my arms so violently on either side of my body that it looked as if they had suddenly come off. “Why will you not write?”
“Because I will not.”
I could have killed her. The Lieutenant said nothing. He did not back me up or urge her to do what I was asking her to do; the only thing that could save his chief’s life.
“Very well,” I said, turning my back on them. “I am going to my death.”
At that moment the veiled lady uttered a cry, called me back, and wrenching from her breast the pendant which contained Captain Hyx’s portrait, gave it to me with its little chain.
“Take these precious things to him,” she exclaimed with a sob. “They will show him that I am alive, and love him still, and have never ceased to think of him.... Go!”
I seized the pendant and chain and rushed out of the castle as if I were clean off my head.
“True,” I said to myself, “Captain Hyx won’t understand any more than I do why she refuses to write, but at least he will have proof that she is alive.”
An hour later I placed in his hands the evidence of his wife’s existence after telling him that I had returned without any letter in her handwriting. He leant against the bulkhead of his cabin into which I had been taken — he leant against it because the sight of those objects deprived him of all power of movement — and said:
“Monsieur Herbert of Renich, you did not bring back what I asked you to bring because you cannot make a dead woman write. You are a miserable wretch. If my wife were alive she would never have consented to part with these objects. Those sacred relics were stolen from her dead body.”
CHAPTER XXVI
WHAT BECAME OF MY LAST HOPE: THE VEILED LADY’S ESCAPE
THE CAPTAIN AS he uttered the last words made a movement to ring the bell. It seemed to me that I heard my death warrant, and that the sentence would be carried into effect within the hour by the person who was about to enter the cabin. It was a painful moment however little one might cling to life. I caught hold of the arm of the master of the “Vengeance” and cried:
“Captain, there is one proof more convincing even than handwriting that Mrs. G — is alive. What do you say if I take you to see her?”
He gave me a look of the utmost contempt.
“That proposal has already been made to me,” he said in icy tones. “Your friend, Von Treischke, had the audacity to assume that I was sufficiently stupid to fall into the simplest of traps and to appear at a particular hour and a particular place where I was to see Mrs.
G — . Tell that to the Marines, old fox!”
Once more he stretched out his hand to the dreaded bell, and once more I stopped him.
“That’s not what I mean, Captain. Listen to me You must believe what I say. Mrs. G — will be free to morrow night. I myself will help her to escape. Give me till to-morrow night and I will bring her here to you. I swear as I hope for salvation and on my mother’s life.”
“You’ve already sworn a good many things on your mother’s life,” answered the Captain with a touch of malice,” and I have had enough of such farces.”
But he had met his match. No one is more stubborn than the man who realises that he will die if he doesn’t succeed in explaining himself. He may be gagged to suffocation but he will still find a way of making himself understood by signs. Now I was not gagged, and the Captain had to give me a hearing. He was at first impatient but afterwards almost encouraging.
I told him the story of my various meetings with the veiled lady and of our conversations. There was much in my narrative which had an air of improbability, and I saw him shrug his shoulders several times. For all that he said:
“Very well. The matter is postponed until midnight to-morrow. Go! You are free until then.”
What more can I say? Two hours later I was back on Coresju Beach, and the Irishman again drove me to my hotel without further parley.
“I will come and fetch you to-morrow at midnight,” he said. “Those are my orders. Be punctual to the appointment.”
“I may be ready to come with you before then,” I returned. “In that case, how can I let you know?”
“A handkerchief tied to the railings of your window in the hotel will be sufficient. I will at once come to you.”
“In any case,” I added, “let your men be fully armed. One never knows what may happen.”
“All right, and if you want our men before to-morrow night, you’ve only to say the word.”
“Thank you.... You think of everything.”
We saluted and I mounted to my room. I found a note from Potage which had been left by him on the off chance. He requested me, if I came in during the night, not to worry myself, but to wait for him, promising not to waste his time.
I considered that at that moment any action on my pa
rt would be useless. Thus I threw myself on my bed and prepared to sleep with a sort of voracity that gloated at the sight of a pillow-case. I had not savoured the slightest rest for over sixty hours. And I abandoned myself to a tremendous slumber and nightmare.
Potage told me when I woke up, which was cot until after he and I had had a combat which lasted ten minutes, that my snores and hallucinations, interspersed with shouts and imprecations, could be heard on the landing, and were the cause of amusement to the hotel visitors and of fright to their children.
I can never be too grateful for the manner in which he looked after and tended me during the whole of the following day, of which I have but a faint recollection. He brought me excellent news. Everything was in readiness. Nothing remained to be done but to wait until ten o’clock that night when he would enter the veiled lady’s room, fasten round her the rope which was already hidden there, and help her to slide down into my arms. I should be under the balcony, behind Ardan Crag, in a small wherry of which Potage had become the proprietor by forcing a chain and very cleverly picking an old padlock.
“So at ten o’clock to-night the veiled lady will be free,” I said. “It is certainly none too soon; nor is it fortunately too late, for I have obtained a respite until midnight. Potage, my life is in your hands.”
“Monsieur,” he explained, “if the lady companion had not returned last night the business would have already been done, for the iron bar had given way, but ‘ she came back and remained until daybreak, and then I could do nothing because there are picket-boats in the roadstead, some of which certainly police the private harbour of Goya.”
“After all, the main thing is that you are sure of success to-night.”
As I have said we passed the day at the hotel. I had to relate all the adventures which had befallen me, and enlighten him fully in regard to the Invisible Battle. He was transported with enthusiasm and naturally full of admiration for Captain Hyx.
When at eight o’clock in the evening, no longer able to restrain my impatience, I got out of bed, consumed a basin of good smoking hot broth which Potage brought me and to which he had added three new laid eggs which he himself bought in the town, I felt quite eager for the fray. Life began to be worth living.
I should have nothing more to fear from Von Treischke. I should have Amalia and her children. I should also be entitled to Captain Hyx’s gratitude, for he would owe the happiness of his remaining days to me, and by that very fact I should perhaps restore him to reason and sanity.... Off we go. Off we go. Come along, Potage.
It was the finest night for an escape that could well be imagined, for it was as dark as pitch. The gods were with us... We sped over the roadstead in the obscurity and we landed at Ardan Crag with such force that I was nearly thrown down. We remained for more than an hour keeping an eye, as it were, on all that happened in the darkness around us. In front of us was the window, in the recess between the two towers, but it was as much as we could do to see the ray of light that gleamed between the two curtains.
“When she is alone,” said Potage, “she will make a sign to me by drawing the left curtain twice and the right curtain once. Then I shall climb up to the ledge, and get on to the balcony. I shall remove the iron bar — it merely requires forcing in a spot that I pointed out to her — she will come out on the balcony, I will fasten the rope round her and you will receive her in the boat. In half an hour from now the duenna will go to her bedroom which is next to the veiled lady’s, and the trick will be done.”
“It’s all so splendid, Potage, that I tremble at the thought of any hitch.”
And with a clutch at my heart I was on the alert for the least sound. Thus we saw around us objects which slipped by in the darkness, half a cable’s length away or more, entering or coming out of the private harbour. Several times we caught very distinctly the sound of the lock gates at the entrance of the harbour, opening and dosing with a peculiar grating noise which once heard could not be forgotten. And I thought to myself that the mystery was still continuing. The battle was still in full swing near Toralla Island and Mark six metres eighty-five.
Suddenly the Invisible Battle went out of my head. Before our eyes the curtains were being drawn in the manner foretold by Potage. And the figure of the veiled lady stood out clearly in the illuminated background of the room; and then quickly all was in darkness. She had blown out the light, and we heard the window being softly opened.
“Now we’re off,” said Potage.
He steered our craft from Ardan Crag to the western tower, and made her fast as was his custom. He did the work briskly, steadily, surely. He felt for the ledge with his harpoon; and at once rapped out an oath. The ledge was no longer there.
We became aware that owing to a spring tide that day, the sea had risen above the ledge which had been crumbling — particularly since it served as a path for Potage, Gabriel and myself — and that it had collapsed; at least that part of it which was necessary to us. There was now no way of reaching the outer steps of the rampart by which we climbed to the balcony. We were completely cut off from the veiled lady, waiting for her rescuers. We heard her cough slightly, and the cough betrayed her impatience and anxiety. I leave the reader to imagine my own state of mind.
“It can’t be helped,” said Potage, “so don’t despair, Señor. No great harm has been done. The señora must fix the rope herself that’s all, and let herself slide down.”
A few pulls of the oars and we were under the balcony. In spite of the darkness we could clearly distinguish the Señora’s shadow above us, very high above us unfortunately as she leant over; and we could distinctly hear her voice.
“Well... What are you doing? I am waiting for you.”
I stood up and said:
“It’s impossible for us to get up to you for the ledge has been washed away by the tide. But you have the rope. Fix it and let yourself slide down. It’s quite safe. You will be all right. We are here.”
We at once heard a veritable cry of despair.
“Come up to me,” she implored. “You must come up.... Come up to me.”
“But you have the rope.”
“Yes, I have the rope. In Heaven’s name come up.”
“We cannot come up. Let yourself slide down the rope.”
“Oh come.... Come or I shall be lost.... Lost for ever this time.”
Potage and I stood quivering with exasperation and horror. Did she not understand us, or did she not want to understand us? For after all she heard us as we heard her. We did not know what more we could do than repeat:
“Fix the rope.... Fix the rope.”
“Unhappy man,” she sobbed in a peculiar tone. “Don’t you know that I am forbidden to do so?”
What did it mean? What did it mean? Had she lost her senses? Had we lost our senses? Be that as it may there was such an outburst of tears and despair, that the light appeared once more in her room, and we saw the figure of the duenna rush to the window, and mingle her cries and appeals for help with the moans of the veiled lady whom she seized; whereupon two or three shots rang out proclaiming that we were being fired on, at haphazard it is true; and nothing remained for us to slip away with the utmost speed. After covering a little distance we heard the iron gates of the inner harbour open again. Obviously they were giving chase; and only the darkness of the night saved us from falling into the clutches of the men at Goya.
We escaped from them but we were returning empty handed from our attempt to rescue the veiled lady and I was by no means anxious to face Lieutenant Smith. Consequently as soon as we had rounded the mole and reached the quay at Vigo — we were bound to make for Vigo since it was the only place that offered any refuge — I said to Potage:
“I’ve had quite enough of it. If you value my life, don’t let us go back to the hotel but let us get out of this country without losing an hour, without losing a minute. What about the time when we lived so quietly begging alms in the cathedral porch?”
“That blessed time will c
ome again, don’t you worry,” said Potage. “Meanwhile we must leave the boat.”
We left the boat, and as soon as we were on the quay we prepared to hasten away so as to avoid any disagreeable encounter. At that moment the Collegiate Church struck the half-past twelve, and a voice behind me said:
“I’ve waited an hour for you at your hotel, Monsieur Herbert of Renich. Forgive me for coming to meet you here.”
The words were uttered by Lieutenant Smith himself. I could have put a bullet into his head, but since he had brought with him, on my recommendation, half a dozen solid fellows, fully armed, neither Potage nor I thought for a moment of resisting him.... I was more than ever his prisoner.
CHAPTER XXVII
HOW THE INVISIBLE BATTLE ENDED
POTAGE AND I were obliged, of course, to enter a motor-car, and we took the famous road to the beach. I was beginning to know it. Nevertheless I found some consolation this time in the fact that Potage was with me.
“So you want to be present at my death?” I said, with tears in my eyes, for I felt that this half-man below me on his little platform which had been flung between two seats was covering my feet with kisses.
“Senor, leave things to me and let me do the talking and if Saint James of Compestello protects us ever so little I will put up more than one peseta for our profundi.”
On this occasion the launch which was waiting for us off Coresju did not take us to the “Vengeance.” We no sooner left the shore than she hoisted three yellow lights such as I had already seen on the Barcilleur’s boat the “Spuma,” and I concluded that we were about to steer a westerly course which would bring us to the Cies Islands, and as a matter of fact that is what did happen.
For persons so well informed as Potage and I it was impossible not to notice sundry indications which recalled the under-water battle. In the vicinity of Goya Castle and Goya Creek the signs were sparse. But here we passed directly over them. And in spite of the darkness, perhaps because of the darkness, we saw once more as we leant over the black abyss, certain gleams of light which were out of the common and, as I have explained, those gleams of light were in no way due to the phosphorescence of the sea.
Collected Works of Gaston Leroux Page 381