by W E Johns
‘Yes, your Highness.’
‘Will you please sit down? And you, Anna, remain near the door.’
Biggles remained standing, but the old woman took up a position with her back against the door.
‘Where are your friends?’ asked the princess.
‘They are resting, your Highness.’
‘Then do not disturb them now, although I should like to speak to them before I go, to thank them, as I now thank you, for what you are doing for Maltovia. I came – I felt I had to come—’ The princess broke off, seeming to be at a loss to know how to continue.
‘You came to give me some orders, perhaps?’ suggested Biggles, trying to help her.
‘Some advice, rather. My conscience compels me to warn you that you are in – danger – here.’
‘I have already gathered that, your Highness. I came prepared for it. Count Stanhauser told me as much before I left England.’
‘He doesn’t know all, for there are some things that I dare not put in writing. Also, matters have moved swiftly during the last twenty-four hours. The situation is worse, much worse.’
‘May I ask the reason, your Highness?’
‘The death of General von Nerthold has tended to bring matters to a head.’
‘Ah, I feared as much.’
‘He was one of the men whom I knew I could trust implicitly, one of whom I was sure – you understand?’
‘Which implies that there are others of whom you are not sure?’
The princess looked a little taken aback by Biggles’s blunt rejoinder. ‘Er … yes.’
‘Forgive me if I appear presumptuous, your Highness, but my desire is to serve you. Would it be too much to ask you to name, for my guidance, those of whom you are not sure?’
The princess hesitated. ‘Perhaps that would not be quite fair,’ she said slowly. ‘I might do some one an injustice.’
‘You have no positive proof of – disloyalty?’
‘No.’
‘But you suspect?’
‘Yes.’
‘General Bethstein?’
The princess started and caught her breath. What little colour there was in her face drained away, and she glanced around apprehensively. ‘Ssh!’ she breathed. ‘It is dangerous to say such things. Walls have ears in Maltovia today.’
‘Even so, your Highness, to speak plainly is a risk that surely must be taken, if Maltovia is to emerge triumphant from her troubles. It would be even more dangerous to remain silent.’ Biggles moved forward impulsively, his heart touched by something in the girl’s face, for she was no more than a girl. ‘Your Highness, you came here to tell me something,’ he continued in a low voice. ‘I implore you to tell me what it is, or who it is you fear, in order that I and the friends who have come to help you may serve you to the best of our ability. You must trust us, or all our efforts will be in vain.’
‘Yes, I do trust you,’ answered the princess simply. ‘Will you tell me the reason why you think I have not complete confidence in the commander of my army?’
‘Do such trivial details matter, your Highness? The more important question is, is it true, for if it is, I can see no other ending to this affair than the subjugation of Maltovia. Come, your Highness, you stand to lose your throne, your people their homes, and we our lives. This is no time for doubt or indecision. Those whom you know you can trust must work in perfect accord. Was it not your fear of the general that brought you here, and led you to adopt this disguise, instead of receiving us officially at the palace?’
The princess faltered. It was obvious from her manner that she had hardly been prepared for Biggles’s direct methods. His intense personality was drawing her secrets from her; or it may have been his sincerity that moved her to speak. ‘I will tell you all I suspect,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘You see, with Count Stanhauser, General von Nerthold was my friend and adviser. I appointed him to the rank of commander-in-chief when General Bethstein hoped for the supreme command. The result of this was that General Bethstein gradually withdrew from my court. Then for a while he travelled abroad.’
‘Not in Lovitzna, by any chance?’
‘Ah, that is something I do not know. But he gathered about him his own party, as invariably happens in such cases. Still, while General von Nerthold was alive I felt quite safe. Now he has gone, I am alone. General Bethstein appointed himself commander-in-chief—’
‘Your pardon, Highness. Did you say appointed himself?’
‘That is what it amounted to. Possibly by promises of appointments he succeeded in procuring enough votes to get himself appointed.’
‘And had you no say in the matter?’
‘My powers are limited by constitutional law. I could have appealed to the people, but that might have split the country into two halves at a time when it must stand united, or fall.’
‘And General Bethstein is responsible for the national defences?’
‘Yes.’
‘What would happen if Lovitzna seized Maltovia?’
‘I should be deposed.’
‘And General Bethstein, if he made the conquest easy for the enemy, might step into your shoes under the protection of the Lovitznian government.’
The princess’s eyes dilated in her agitation. ‘Hush!’ she breathed.
‘In England,’ went on Biggles, almost ruthlessly, ‘we have a saying, “Call a spade a spade.” General Bethstein has already profited by the death of General von Nerthold in that he has taken his place. Is he ambitious?’
‘Yes. It was chiefly on that account that I withheld his appointment to commander-in-chief. That, and the fact that I did not trust him.’
‘So it would seem that the time is ripe for him to further his ambitions.’
The princess’s lips formed the word, ‘Yes.’
‘And that is why you fear him, why you came here in disguise, to see whether we were your friends – or his?’
‘Yes.’
Biggles rose. ‘Thank you, your Highness. I fear I have been persistent, but what you have told me merely confirms a half-formed suspicion in my own mind. Ludwig Stanhauser is to be trusted, I think?’
‘Yes – yes. I trust him as myself.’ The princess was emphatic.
‘Possibly he was attached to us on your orders?’
‘Yes, he was. I have been in communication with his uncle.’
‘Thank you again, your Highness. You have clarified the position considerably. The existence of two parties in the country, yours and General Bethstein’s, is going to make things rather complicated, I fear; but by working together, the outcome may not be that which General Bethstein desires. We shall see.’
The princess rose. ‘I must go,’ she said quietly. ‘I did not intend to tell you all this; I really came to warn you and thank you for what you did this morning. I have heard about the battle with the Lovitznian aeroplanes.’
‘That was a very small thing, your Highness. If we encounter no greater difficulties than that our task will not be a severe one.’
The princess started back as the handle of the door rattled sharply. ‘Hey! Wake up and open the door,’ came Algy’s voice, cheerfully. ‘What’s the idea? It’s nearly dinner time.’
Biggles walked quickly to the door, opened it, and locked it again as soon as Algy and Ginger were inside. They stopped dead, staring, when their eyes fell on the princess.
‘Your Highness,’ said Biggles before they could speak, ‘may I present Lieutenants Lacey and Hebblethwaite?’ He caught Algy’s eye. ‘Her Royal Highness, the Princess Mariana of Maltovia.’
Algy and Ginger, their eyes still wide with astonishment, sprang to attention. And while they were still standing thus, the silence was broken by a loud voice in the corridor. There was no mistaking the speaker. It was General Bethstein.
Chapter 7
On Thin Ice
BIGGLES THOUGHT THE Princess was going to faint, but she recovered herself with an effort as he sprang to her side. ‘Fear nothing,’ he whispered. The
n, more loudly, ‘Don’t speak – anybody.’
Came heavy footsteps in the corridor and, an instant later, the rattle of accoutrements, followed by a crash on the door as if it had been struck with a heavy object such as the hilt of a sword.
‘Major Bigglesworth! General Bethstein to see you!’ called a strange voice.
‘Then give the general my compliments and tell him that I am not quite ready to receive visitors,’ replied Biggles evenly. ‘If he will go down and wait in the dining-room I will join him in a few minutes.’
There was a muttered conversation outside the door; then the general himself spoke. ‘What I have to say cannot be said in a public room,’ he announced harshly.
‘Then be kind enough to wait in the next room while I get some clothes on,’ returned Biggles cheerfully. ‘I will send Lieutenant Lacey to entertain you.’ As he spoke he beckoned to the princess and her woman-in-waiting and escorted them to a corner of the room where they could not be seen from the corridor when the door was opened. Then, to Algy, ‘Go and hold him in conversation until I come,’ he breathed.
Algy went quietly to the door, opened it and slipped out. Biggles closed it quickly and leaned against it as voices receded down the corridor. The door of the next room banged. He took a peep outside and then addressed the princess. ‘Come, your Highness, the coast is clear.’
‘Thank you.’ The princess held out her hand and Biggles kissed it gracefully.
‘Before you go, tell me how I can get into touch with you should it be necessary,’ he said.
‘Ludwig Stanhauser will tell you,’ she answered softly, and with that she was gone, closely followed by her maid.
Biggles walked to the end of the corridor, gave them a minute’s grace, and then made his way to Algy’s room.
‘Things seem to be moving,’ murmured Ginger, who was with him.
‘They’re moving a bit too fast,’ answered Biggles with a worried frown. ‘I had hoped to learn how to find my way about before this sort of thing started. However,…’ He opened the door of Algy’s room and went in. ‘Good evening, sir,’ he greeted the general, who was standing back to the fireplace with two aides-de-camp, one a dark, sallow-faced man with Muscovite features, and the other a hard-faced youth with pale grey eyes, and a cruel thin-lipped mouth. ‘Sorry I had to keep you waiting, but I did not anticipate this honour,’ added Biggles. ‘Shall we remain here, or would you rather go to my room?’
‘We will go to your room,’ replied the general, and without waiting for any further invitation he led the way. Biggles tried to reach the door first, but either by accident or design the general frustrated him, so he could only follow at his heels.
A few paces inside the room and the general stopped, sniffing. His eyes flashed to Biggles. ‘Do I smell perfume?’ he asked in a curious voice.
‘My bath salts, I suppose,’ returned Biggles lightly. ‘It’s a special brand I get in Paris.’
‘You are fond of nice-smelling things – ha? Flowers, for instance.’
Biggles cursed inwardly as he followed the general’s eyes and saw the basket of flowers still standing where Anna had placed it, but nothing of what he felt showed in his face. ‘Yes, they’re very nice, aren’t they?’ he returned blandly. ‘I acquired them from an old woman. No doubt she thought they’d bring me luck. As a stranger, one likes to make a good impression, you know, and we airmen have a reputation for being superstitious.’
‘So she told you they would bring you luck?’
‘That’s right.’
‘I didn’t know you spoke our language,’ flashed back the general.
‘Fortunately the old woman happened to speak a bit of German, of which I, too, know a little.’
‘Ah, I understand.’
‘Sit down, sir.’
‘Lock the door, Menkhoff,’ ordered the general, and the sallow-faced officer obeyed. ‘Sit down, everybody.’
Biggles sat down in the chair just vacated by the princess, Algy and Ginger finding seats close to him.
‘Now what I am going to say to you Englishmen is in confidence,’ continued the general.
‘Of course,’ murmured Biggles smoothly.
‘And I must be brief, for I have much to do. Therefore we will not – how do you say? – mince matters.’
‘That should save time.’
‘First of all, I will say that your presence here causes me profound anxiety.’
‘On what account?’
‘It is highly dangerous.’
‘We are accustomed to danger.’
‘You fail to understand me. I want no trouble with the British. If your government learn that you are here it might be bad for Maltovia.’
‘From what I can see of things, it would be worse for Maltovia if we were not here,’ returned Biggles imperturbably.
‘Suppose you were killed; what should we tell the British Foreign Office?’
‘Why tell them anything?’
‘They would demand an explanation.’
‘They already have it. Before leaving England I deposited a document at my bank. In the event of anything happening to us the manager will forward it to the Foreign Secretary. It is a full explanation and completely exonerates Maltovia.’
‘I see,’ muttered the general irritably, and set off on a new tack. ‘Very well. Since you prefer to stay, you will, of course, come strictly under my orders.’
‘Ah, there you are mistaken, general. I fear you must have been misinformed.’
‘So?’
‘Yes, that is so. My contract with Count Stanhauser appoints me to the sole command of the Maltovian Air Force, which is to be a separate service from the army.’
‘That is wrong – entirely wrong.’
‘The appointment was countersigned by Princess Mariana. ‘You would not say that – she was wrong, I think?’
The general’s lips tightened. Then he smiled, a cunning, ingratiating smile that did not deceive any one, least of all Biggles. ‘If you will think the matter over, you will, I feel sure, perceive that it would be better for both of us if we worked in complete harmony,’ he said suavely.
Now Biggles did not want to press the general too far; it was too early for open enmity. Therefore he temporized. ‘Of course,’ he said quietly. ‘It would be much better if we saw eye to eye with each other.’
‘Then you will take your orders from me.’
‘No, general, because I do not think that would be altogether advantageous. You see, you are not an airman. You know – correct me if I am wrong – little of air tactics. Speed is everything. If I had to wait for your orders an opportunity might be lost.’
‘What are your immediate plans, then?’
‘Tomorrow morning at dawn I shall lead our three machines on a patrol in the north-east corner of the principality, along the Lovitznian frontier, on a flight of reconnaissance. Naturally we are anxious to get our landmarks1 fixed.’
‘Yes, I think that would be a good thing to do. And after that?’
‘It is a little too early to say. Would it not be better to wait to see what transpires? It is quite likely that I shall take the camera in order to get some photographs of the advanced Lovitznian positions. You could do with them, I imagine?’
‘Yes, I could,’ agreed the general, in an odd tone of voice.
Biggles stood up. ‘Then that’s settled,’ he said cheerfully. ‘I am glad that we shall be working together. It was nice of you to come and call on us.’
The general rose slowly to his feet. ‘We must dine together sometime,’ he said, without enthusiasm.
‘Why not tonight?’
‘No, I have other engagements.’
Biggles saw the general to the door. ‘Do not hesitate to let me know if we can be of service to you at any time,’ he said.
‘I will let you know,’ replied the general. Then, rather abruptly, ‘Good night.’
‘Good night, sir.’
Biggles waited until the footsteps of the general a
nd his staff had died away. Then, after a surreptitious peep along the corridor, he closed the door and locked it.
‘I wouldn’t have told that old scab what we were going to do tomorrow morning, had I been you,’ declared Algy wrathfully.
Biggles looked up. ‘What gave you the idea that I did?’
‘I heard you tell him that we were going to patrol the north-east corner—’
Biggles waved him to silence with a quick movement of his hand. ‘That’s only what I told him, you silly ass,’ he said quietly. ‘You don’t suppose for a moment that we’re going that way, do you?’
‘Then where are you going?’
‘I’m going where I trust we shall be able to shoot up a Lovitznian two-seater, and that won’t be in the north-east corner of Maltovia.’
‘Where will it be then?’
‘Right over the aerodrome, I hope. With us out of the way – as they will fondly imagine, if I have got our precious general correctly weighed up – the enemy will send a machine over with the laudable idea of having a look at our aerodrome, which Bethstein has done his best to make conspicuous by providing us with a hangar that can be seen from one end of the country to the other.’
Algy’s jaw dropped. ‘Great Scott!’ he muttered. ‘I’m beginning to see which way the wind is blowing.’
‘You’ll feel which way it’s blowing, too, before you’re much older, I fancy. Come on. We’ve got a busy evening in front of us.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘First of all, we’d better have a bite of dinner. I want a word or two with Ludwig before I go to bed, and I also want to see Smyth and Carter. We ought to have a look at the machines to make sure they are ready for the morning. I hope to be in the air by dawn; with luck, we shall be able to give Ginger a little instruction in the gentle art of two-seater strafing2. Let’s be going.’
1 As pilots new to the area, Biggles and his friends need to learn to recognize the important features of the landscape such as rivers and railway lines to help them navigate.
2 Air combat tactics, attempting to shoot down or force down an enemy aircraft.