by Ronald Seth
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
The Tomb of the Grand Dukes
As we approached the tomb a young man came out of the shadows and hailed us.
"Manek," our leader said.
"Good. The professor and Peter have arrived and the professor is anxious not to be late at the other end," the young man whispered. As he spoke the clock on the Cathedral of St. Nicolaus boomed out midnight.
"This way," Manek said, and led me down a short flight of steps into the tomb itself.
The young man brought up the rear, and as he came into the tomb I noticed him move a coat of arms as though it were a doorknob. At once there was a low rumbling sound which continued for about thirty seconds. Seeing my look of surprise, the young man smiled.
"Shutting the door," he said. "The entrance is closed by a large block of stone, hydraulically moved. This lever, camouflaged by the coat of arms, controls it."
I followed Manek down the steps, counting ten of them, and at the bottom we turned into a vast chamber, the actual vault of the grand dukes. Never in all my life have I been in such a fantastic, grotesque place.
Two hurricane lamps stood on a raised stone slab in the middle of the chamber, accentuating the shadows and the macabre decorations. Lining the walls were long niches, the majority of them holding huge, ornately decorated lead coffins. But it was not the coffins which were so grotesque.
In the spaces of the walls between the niches human skeletons had been let into the plaster.
I hardly had time to take all this in before a little man, whom I took at first to be Dr. Paranu, came forward to greet me.
"Captain Martel? I am Professor Barfor, professor of medieval history in the University of Tredentz. I am very pleased to meet you," he said in clear, clipped English, and held out his hand.
"How do you do," I answered.
"Frank Manek you know," he went on, now in Gallonian. "But these two young men are students at the university—Peter and Dominek… And how are you, Jo? I don't know what we should do without you. He's our Mercury, captain."
"Who's Mercury?" the boy asked.
"I forgot they don't teach the classics any more in our schools," the professor said. "He was the messenger of the gods, Jo."
"Oh," Jo said simply.
"What a strange place this is, professor," I remarked.
"Yes, indeed it is. But then, our grand dukes were strange men, captain, with very strange tastes. This tomb was built by Karl I, our first really great duke, who reigned from 1322 to 1337. The—er—decorations, however, are much later. They were added by Grand Duke Peter IV in 1803."
"He must have had a very odd sense of humor," I suggested.
"Precisely," the professor agreed. "He was not at all the man that so many of his ancestors had been. But we must not be too harsh on him because, had it not been for him, we should not be able to get you out of the city tonight."
"Get me out of the city!" I exclaimed. "I thought you intended me to hide here for a while."
"Oh, no. We are going from here almost at once. Grand Duke Peter IV had a fixed idea that the Emperor Napoleon, in his conquests in Europe, would wish to add Gallonia to his possessions. He knew that his armies would never be able to withstand the French armies, but he also knew that the proud people of his capital would never surrender their city until it was a heap of ruins, or they were starved out by a siege. Peter IV was not at all anxious to become a prisoner of Napoleon, but his people would require him to lead them in the city. So he had an escape route planned and made for himself. Watch, captain!"
The spritely little man trotted to the wall behind me and put his spread fingers into the eye sockets of one of the grinning skeletons and pressed. Once more the same rumbling noise filled the tomb as when Dominek had closed the main entrance. Slowly a section of the wall swung outward on silent hinges. When it was fully opened I could see behind it the first two or three yards of a passage stretching back into the darkness.
"There!" exclaimed the professor. "This subterranean passage runs for a mile and a half under the city, under the walls and emerges out in the country. By taking you this way we shall avoid Gombroch and all his men, who patrol the city streets and picket the city gates looking for you."
"Do you mean to say that the L.P.R. knows nothing about this passage?" I asked, though I knew it was a silly question.
"Ah, that is another story," Frank Manek laughed, and pressed the professor to tell it.
It seems that during nearly a century and a half between the making of the passage and the Second World War, the existence of the passage had become merely a legend. Even experts did not believe it had ever existed and thought it was just one of those stories which had grown up around an eccentric ruler who had had his tomb sealed by an hydraulic arrangement.
Professor Barfor had been no friend of the Germans when they had occupied Gallonia, and they had prohibited him from lecturing and working at the university. But they had allowed him to work on the old records of the royal house, and during this work he came upon a document which described the making of the subterranean passage. It also described how the opening to it operated. The document had been hidden away in the binding of a book which had belonged to Peter IV's personal library.
"The professor 'forgot' to tell the Germans of his discovery," Manek smiled when the professor stopped speaking, "and he 'forgot' to tell the present regime. It is just as well, too, because it has proved very useful on several occasions."
The professor looked at his watch.
"It is time we were going," he said. "Paul will be waiting for us with the car at the other end at a quarter to one."
Jo came to me, holding out the rucksack.
"Good-by, captain," he said. "You're a good companion to work with."
I looked at the boy, who was looking up at me with dark, serious eyes, and I realized that he was paying me the greatest compliment he could pay.
"Jo," I said. "I know movements like Gallia don't give medals, but if they did, I should ask them to give you the highest award for valor for what you have done tonight."
"It was nothing," he said, and added, like his mother and uncle—and Raymond Maran—"I have only done my duty."
Manek was staying behind, but Dominek and Peter were coming with us to act as bodyguards on the journey to the professor's summer cottage, which was about twelve miles from Kobo-Vazon, as near as it to the frontier, but south of the railway line.
The professor was now getting impatient to be off and sent Dominek into the passage to lead the way. He followed next, then I, and Peter brought up the rear. So with Manek's and Jo's "good luck" we set off down the dank subterranean tunnel.
Each of us had a flashlight, and though Dominek set a brisk pace I was amazed by the work which had gone into the construction of the passage as it was revealed by our light. One would have thought that it would have been enough to have built a simple tunnel, with shores every so many feet; or, if one had wished to be superior, to have lined it with wooden planks. The original intention had been for the grand duke and his family to escape through once, and only once. Yet for the mile and a quarter which it extended, it was completely faced with tiny tiles portraying famous incidents from the history of Gallonia. Either an army of workmen must have been employed, or it must have taken years to complete.
It took us nearly half an hour to reach the other end, where an hydraulic arrangement moved a large boulder, which swiveled smoothly and silently on a pivot and allowed us to emerge into a country lane. Dominek went on ahead to find Paul and the car. He returned in a few moments in a state of mild excitement.
"Paul says there are patrols out on all the roads," he said. "He doesn't like the idea of going to Farino."
"Nonsense!" snapped the professor. "The patrols can't be on all the roads. We shall take the byroads."
"But he…" Dominek began.
"Listen, my boy," the professor interrupted him. "We are all armed, aren't we? We've even provided a weapon for the capt
ain. That makes five of us; and since when has Gallia refused to fight with any enemy? Paul is a nervous type, but once we start he will be all right. Come, let's go!"
But it took a good deal of persuasion to get Paul to agree to drive us. He argued that it would be taking unnecessary risks going to Farino tonight. Tomorrow or the day after the L.P.R. would have lost much of its enthusiasm and then it would be safe. It was unfair to me to expose me to such danger. Why not stay in the tomb until things were quieter?
"They may not get quieter," the professor snapped. "And as for exposing the captain to danger, he lives on danger, don't you, captain?"
I nodded and tried to cajole him with a smile.
"I should like to be out of reach of Gombroch as soon as possible," I said.
But he was not impressed either by cajolery or pleas.
At last the professor would argue no longer.
"Very well," he said, "if you are a coward, Paul, you can stay here and Peter will drive us to Farino. He is not such a good driver as you, but we shall get there safely, I'm certain. Into the car, everyone. I shall sit by Peter, and captain, will you and Dominek take the back seat?"
In a few seconds we were all seated in the car and Peter had started the engine. As he let out the clutch and we began to move slowly forward, there was a cry from Paul.
"Wait! Wait!" he cried. "I will come with you. If you insist on going, I will come. If you run into trouble, you won't escape unless I'm behind the wheel."
"Get into the back," the professor said quietly to Peter, and without another word we started out on what was to be one of the most hectic journeys I have ever taken.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ambush
To get to Farino it was necessary for us to cross two main roads, no matter what route by secondary roads we might take. It was these two crossings which represented the greatest danger for us.
None of my companions could understand Gombroch's present tactics. The fact that he had declared a curfew only in the capital seemed to indicate that he believed me to be there—everyone agreed now that he knew that the man who had visited Paranu was the man for whom he was looking—and since, as far as he knew, there was no way out of Tredentz except by one of the four gates, he could be fairly sure of trapping me should I try to leave the city. What puzzled the professor and his young men was the L.P.R.'s activities in the rest of the country. (Though we were to find out later what they had been doing, with tragic consequences to Gallia.)
Dominek was quite certain that the arrest of Samakis and the disappearance of the gun had been connected with me. The others were equally certain, however, that this must be surmise on Gombroch's part because it was unthinkable that Samakis would talk, whatever tortures Gombroch might inflict on him.
Why, then, should the patrols be out on the roads?
It was this which they discussed in quiet voices as Paul drove us over uneven country roads and down narrow lanes, over shallow fords where streams crossed the roadway at the bottoms of small valleys, and even through farmyards and across pastures, in his attempt to avoid anything like a main road.
It was quarter past two when we came to our first crossing of the Tredentz-Kobo main road, the road which Raymond had avoided—was it only yesterday? It seemed an age ago.
As we approached the crossing Paul stopped the car and Peter was sent forward on foot to reconnoiter. If the road was clear he was to signal with his flashlight and we should cross at high speed and wait for him on the other side.
None of us spoke as we watched his shadowy figure disappearing down the road toward the crossing. We had taken our pistols out and cocked them and held them on our knees with our thumbs ready to flick off the safety catches at the first sign. Only the heavy breathing of Paul broke the silence in the car.
Peter seemed an incredible time covering the three hundred yards to the main road and I am sure I was not alone in wondering why his signal did not come. Paul leaned as far out of his window as he could, listening and watching, ready to urge the car forward the moment Peter flashed his light.
High hedges rose on either side of us, so that we were in a sort of narrow passage. We could see the main road only at the end of the lane.
At last the professor said: "Go and see what's the matter, Dominek."
Dominek got out of the car, but while his hand was still on the door handle a brilliant flash of light lit up the narrow strip of main road at the opening of our lane. Immediately, Paul let in the clutch, forgetting about Dominek standing in the roadway, and thirty seconds later we had pulled up in the byroad on the other side of the main road, where Peter was already waiting for us, having crossed the road himself as soon as he had given the signal. He had just seated himself beside me when an angry Dominek came running up.
"What's the idea, Paul?" he snapped.
Paul chuckled softly.
"Sorry," he said. "I forgot all about you."
"Imbecile!" Dominek muttered. "You gave me a scare, I can tell you!"
"I hadn't forgotten you," the professor soothed him. "We wouldn't have left you behind."
But Dominek was not easy to soothe and continued muttering to himself for the next quarter of an hour.
We drove on for another hour, mostly in silence, though now and again one of the young men would make some remark about the countryside. The moon had set and the darkness had compelled Paul to put on his lights, and though he had them on dim their shafts cut the night with a heightened nervousness.
"We shall reach the Tredentz-Ranack road in about ten minutes, professor," Paul said presently. "We shall be able to see the traffic on the main road this time, as we come down a hill. So Peter won't have to get out. If the road is clear, I shall drive straight across."
"Very well, Paul," the professor answered. "You're in charge."
Again tension in the car rose and we fingered our guns again and sat up, alert and staring out of the car windows. As we began to descend the short, fairly steep hill to the main road, there was no sign of any car lights in either direction and Paul accelerated and shot across the road.
I would not like to say who, of Peter and Dominek, cried the warning first. Both were gazing before them, one on either side of me. Whether the professor, who was sitting beside Paul, saw them at all, I don't know. But it was the cries of the young men I heard.
While we were still in the middle of the road a searchlight was switched on, almost blinding us, and we saw two men waving to us to stop in the opening of the byroad toward which Paul was making. We swerved violently, throwing us all in a heap inside the car, bumping onto the narrow grass shoulder and wrenching back with a thud as we hit the road again. Two shots mingled with the shouts of the men, and one of the bullets hit the car with a sharp crack.
"Keep going, Paul!" the professor urged him. "We have the advantage. They must turn their car. Can you drive without lights?"
"No!" Paul shouted back. "These roads twist too much, and I do not know them well enough. I shall have to outrun them."
But it was soon clear that that would be impossible.
The searchlight on the car lit up a great arc of the night as we looked back out of the rear window, which increased as it came nearer to us.
Paul turned into some new byroad or lane every few minutes and after a time it seemed that the car pursuing us was not so maneuverable as our own, for presently it began to fall back. But though it dropped behind, it kept doggedly after us.
"Professor," Paul shouted, "if I'm not to lead them to Farino I must either go round and head back for the city or we must try some other plan."
"What's the other plan?" the professor asked him calmly.
"We must get rid of them for good," Paul replied. "It would be safer in any case."
"Very well! What must we do?"
"A little farther on we come to a secondary road which has a sharp S-turn half a mile along it. When we reach there I shall stop, you must all get out and scatter. I shall drive the car into the ditch
, and make it look as if we've had an accident. They will stop, and while they are looking at the car we must pick them off. Right?"
"Right!" we all muttered.
"It will need quick moving on your part when I stop. They are less than thirty seconds behind us. When I say ready, open the doors and prepare to leap out as soon as I stop."
We edged forward on our seats, and Peter, Dominek and the professor put their hands on the handles of the doors. I was sitting in the middle, between Peter and Dominek, and was thus at a disadvantage, compared with them. But I believed Peter would move more quickly than Dominek, and prepared to leave by his door.
The rucksack with the gun was at my feet, but there was no point in taking it with me. If we were caught, it would be found. If our plan succeeded, I should be able to retrieve it later. If I tried to take it with me it would hinder my movements and possibly make all the difference between my being shot or staying alive.
We turned into the secondary road to the right and Paul must have had his foot right down on the floorboards, for it seemed as if we should take off at any moment.
Suddenly he barked: "Ready?"
The doors were half-opened and as the car slowed down we leaped, one after another. Paul had switched off the engine, but there was enough impetus to carry it onto the grass shoulder and deposit it gently in the ditch, where it lurched on its side with its rear wheel whirling round and round in the air.
I had no idea what had happened to my companions, but as I flung myself into the ditch on the other side of the road within a few yards of the car, I sensed they were not far away. Paul climbed out of the car and dashed across the road to join us as the beam of the searchlight came racing up the road toward us.
It was going so fast that it was several yards past us before it screamed and skidded to a stop, and then rapidly backed until it held our car in the searchlight.
I could see three men in the car and caught the sound of their voices, though not what they said. They did not get out at once. It seemed as if they half-suspected a trick. But when nothing happened all three got out and took up positions in the arc of a circle facing our car. All of them held submachine guns.