“I should have bought it,” I said.
“No, you wouldn’t,” said Mansel. “He shouldn’t have cupped his ear.”
I left it there, although I shall always think that very few men would have read that gesture so well. Looking back, it is easy to see that, if Friar had been hard of hearing, he would not have heard what Mansel had said before, and that he made his movement as well to make Mansel lean forward as to enable him, Friar, to bring his pistol to bear: but Mansel’s brain was so swift that, even as the man acted, he could interpret his action and save the game.
Twenty minutes later, Carson returned, to say that Friar had driven away in his car, which the police had left. Sloper was certainly with him: but whether Orris was there, he could not say. Still, after what had occurred, we were taking no risks, and Bell or Carson played sentry from that time on. For one man to watch both drives was quite impossible; but by moving to and fro at the end of the house, he could keep an eye on the courtyard, as well as upon the covert, which lay on the other side. And since the neighbourhood was extremely quiet, he could have heard a car coming while it was still a great way off.
So we came out of a pass which was quite unpleasant enough, but might have been worse.
And here perhaps I may say that what both of us found so trying throughout those hours was the forbidding fact that the treasure both parties were seeking was actually under their hand. Thanks, no doubt, to Diana, Boler believed that we had bestowed it somewhere six days before: when he found it was not in our quarters he very wisely decided to make us talk, rather than search a castle he did not know. (To search Wagensburg with effect, would have taken three or four men at least three days.) Where Friar supposed it to be, I do not know. But had either dreamed that the gems were in the garage – within six feet of them, as they passed its mouth, the ‘show-down’ which must have followed would have been awkward, indeed. Still, all ended well – thanks entirely to Orris who gave me the danger signal just in time.
4: The Play’s the Thing
At five o’clock that evening we left the castle for good. This with regret, for we had been comfortable there and the place had suited us well. But, while it made a handsome retreat, once we were known to be there, it became a trap; for it could be approached from two sides, and unless we had been able to keep a continuous watch, a car could have been upon us before we knew it was there.
But now we had nowhere to go.
Orris had not reappeared, and we had little doubt that he had gone off with Friar. This was as well, for the man would have given more trouble than he was worth. Still, I had thought he would do as Mansel had said; and I was faintly surprised that he should have returned to Friar.
That night we passed in a forest, some thirty miles off: and though we had not the comfort of bed and bath, I confess I was glad to be sleeping beside our charge. Since the weather was fine and warm, we did very well.
Early the following morning, Bell packed into two kitbags the stuff he and I should need; and after an ample breakfast which Carson cooked and served, Mansel and I went strolling under the trees.
“I decline to worry,” he said. “You have found out the way, and you are going to take it as quietly and firmly as if it were Jermyn Street.
“As soon as you are able, send Bell with a written report about the weights. I’d like to load them as soon as ever we can, for if I should be taken, a hundred to one the Rolls will be put in balk. If you want another reason, once I’m rid of the stuff, I can distract friend Boler by trailing my coat. In other words, I call attention to B. I can be seen in Salzburg, lunch at Villach, be recognized in Innsbruck and generally take the stage. But I must lie dead low, until we have made the transfer.
“Now for the smuggler’s way. That, of course, is your road. How you explain this movement I leave to you. I suggest that you should tell Jasper about the Boche. Say that you knocked him down and he’s out for blood. And so you prefer to leave by a private path. But I leave it to you, William – you have a remarkable flair for picking up cues.” (This was untrue; for I am not ‘quick in the uptake’, as Mansel is. If a thing is thrust down my throat, I can usually swallow it: but Mansel can persuade his opponent to serve him with what he chooses, and, as often as not, to stand behind his chair.) “But one thing is clear as paint – that is that you must not attempt to take with you the weights.” I bit my lip. “I know. You’ll be on tenterhooks, until you see them again. But for you to stick to them would be insanity.
“I’ll tell you why.
“In the first place, both Friar and Boler know that we dare not depute another to carry the treasure out. They have, therefore, eyes for us and for nobody else. So the stuff will be far safer, if you are nowhere near when it comes to the frontier-line.
“In the second place, Jasper may well accept your decision to leave the country in an unorthodox way: but he would never swallow your proposal to take the weights – for that would be out of all reason. They are stage properties and go with the tents, costumes and drums and whatever they have. Departure from such tradition would make a half-wit think…
“Thirdly, strong as you are, to take such a way, so burdened, might well be beyond your power: while, if you met a patrol, you would be sunk, for the first thing that they would do would be to inspect the weights.”
I nodded reluctantly.
“I’m not going to argue,” I said, “for any one of your reasons is good enough. But to leave such stuff to make its own way out is a fearful thing.”
“Of course it is,” said Mansel. “I don’t have to tell you about the stuff I’ve carried, because on the greatest occasion you were there.”
“I know. And it shortened my life.”
“So it did mine. But I was never nervous – as I am now. To nobody else would I make this confession, William: but, honestly, I am nervous about this stuff. If I were superstitious, I could believe that Alec the Bad had laid a curse upon such as should handle the treasure he was at such pains to amass.”
I shrugged my shoulders.
“That may be so,” I said. “Three men died, trying to lift it five years ago. And Goat has been sacrificed.”
“That’s four,” said Mansel, and fingered his chin. “And Friar is in the running. I’ll take no more chances with him, and neither must you.
“One thing more. You’re to leave on Thursday: on Thursday evening, therefore, I shall get out. I shall make straight for Strasburg. I may be a little late, for they’re pretty certain to stop me and search the car. But I shall sit at Strasburg, until I have heard from you. Don’t wire there direct: wire, instead, to London – you know the address. They’ll forward it instantly. ALL WELL will mean what it says: any other statement will bring me at once to the office of origin. If I get ALL WELL, I shall leave for London and then for Trieste; so have a line waiting for me at The Heart of Gold.
“Finally, give me your passports – yours and Bell’s. Smugglers don’t have to have passports. But others find them useful now and again.”
Then we consulted the map, for we had to settle where Bell should go to meet Carson and other things. Then I wrote a letter to Jenny, saying I hoped to be back in another ten days – as, to tell the truth, I did; for I felt that, once I had entered Italy, we were as good as home. Friar could go to the devil – to whom he belonged. Once we were shot of the Boche, if Friar ran between my legs, I would break him in two. And that, without compunction, for of pure spite he had hanged a very millstone about our necks. And the man was a murderer.
Godel was very charming and made me think at once of the picture books I loved as a little boy. I saw it first from above, for the road from the East drops into it very sharply, in spite of a double bend. Indeed, it lies at the foot of a waterfall and athwart the tumbling torrent which this becomes. The torrent is spanned by a crooked, covered bridge, a rare enough feature to make a tourist gasp: but, lying there in the sunshine, Godel itself would have warmed a painter’s heart. White walls, red roofs, black shadows, w
earing, as though it were some order, a sash of the liveliest blue and, because of the meadows about them, seemingly set upon a cloth of emerald green – of such was the village that morning at half past nine.
Bell and I gazed for a little, before we descended the hill. Then we began to go down, in search of our inn. But this we found almost at once, by the side of one of the bends.
The Vat of Melody hung by the side of the fall. This, its terrace commanded – the parapet was wet with the falling spray. And though it was but one of the village inns, because it boasted this valuable belvedere, its table was ready for strangers at any time. Few, no doubt, came across it, for Godel is off most maps: but a board, declaring its virtues, stood by the road, and I know that if I had been passing, I should have stopped.
It was there that Jasper joined us at half past ten. I introduced Bell to him and called for wine.
“And where is the troupe?” I said.
“The troupe is coming,” he said, “but not to this inn. It will go direct to the meadows, where we shall pitch our camp. They will not come by this way: but as soon as we see the caravan, we will go down. I usually walk on ahead, for the pace is set by the mules, and does not suit me. Once I had to conform, sir: but, now that I am the master, I give myself leave.”
“You will have,” I said, “to give up calling me ‘sir’.”
Jasper shook his head.
“I have informed the troupe that you are a famous artiste, not long retired. Because once I did you a service, you have most handsomely offered to fill the breach.”
“But this is absurd,” I cried. “I have a certain strength; but I know no tricks and I am not excessively strong. The troupe will see through me at once.”
“Believe me, they will not,” said Jasper. “In the first place, I think I can judge your strength even better than you. In the second, I have explained that you are not now in training and so will be unable to do as you used. So you will be perfectly safe. And everyone understands that you have only come on condition that your identity is not disclosed. So you will be Monsieur X.” He turned to look to the West. “See. There is the caravan. It is entering into the meadows, beyond the village itself.”
I got to my feet.
“Then let us be going,” I said. “If I am to take the plunge, let me take it as soon as I can.”
Looking back, I shall always consider that Jasper’s tale was far better than any that I could have told. All my shortcomings were forgiven, because I was a notable man: my eccentricities were accepted, and the honour which I was conferring upon the troupe blinded them to the gaucherie which I must have constantly shown. Happily, I was able to do what Ulysses had done – a fact which made me think that ‘a strong man’s’ reputation may not be always deserved. There are, of course, certain tricks which cannot be mastered at once, which appear imposing indeed, when they are grandly performed. But these are not truly the feats of strength which they seem. But, then, ‘a strong man’ is a showman, and the efforts he seems to make at a country fair would not be made if he was a stevedore.
Early that afternoon I tried the weights.
These were six in number, all more or less bell-shaped, with handles above by which a man could take hold. They were not marked, and I really have no idea how much they weighed. Each one was greater than the other, and I must confess I was glad to set the greatest down. The point is that I could lift it without any fuss.
Colette was clapping her hands.
“Bravo, bravo,” she cried. “Oh, but I knew you were strong. The poor Ulysses could never have done so well.”
“But, then, he drank,” said I. “Before he took to drink, he was probably very good.”
“But not like you,” said Colette. “Can you lift this chair by its leg?”
“I will try,” I said. “But that is a matter of practice, and I have not done it for years.”
Still, I managed to do it – not very well.
“Splendid,” cried Colette. “Now I will go and find Jasper, and we will rehearse.”
The moment she disappeared, I examined the weights. Precisely as she had said, at the base of each was a plate which could be unscrewed. I judged that the four largest weights would accept the whole of the gems. But I had, of course, to make sure, by removing the plates: for I could not tell how much space they really concealed. To do this, I required a square pin, to introduce into the sockets sunk in the plates – a tool not so easy to come by: but each of the weights had its box, and when I looked into the largest, the pin was there.
Here Jasper appeared, with Colette.
“What did I say?” he said. “We shall have to look to our laurels, Colette and I. Now, sir, if you will allow me, I play your part: and when I have done, you shall play it – as you will play it tonight.”
I had supposed I must give an exhibition: but now I found that this was wrapped up in a play. Hardly a play – a masque, which ran for about twenty minutes to music and song. Of this I was the hero, Colette the heroine. The plot is not worth setting down, so I will only say that Colette was to dance, but found her floor strewn with boulders which none of her swains could move. These, of course, I removed, for they were the weights. Then she dismissed her suitors and danced about me, while I made play with the ‘boulders’, to show my strength. In the end, she sat down on a mushroom – really a stool – and I lifted the mushroom up and, finally, held it high with one of my hands.
All of this I very soon mastered, to their content. Feather-weight as she was, to raise Colette, stool and all, was as much as, at first, I could do: but very soon I found that this was a matter of balance and that, taking the strain as I should, I could have easily lifted a heavier girl.
Here, perhaps, I should say that, when they were on the stage, the weights resembled boulders, if you stood back: for each had its painted jacket, cunningly stuffed and padded to give it the shape of some rock. But, of course, their handles were free, and the little illusion was shattered as soon as I picked them up.
When the rehearsal was over—
“Sir, I foresee,” declared Jasper, “a great success. They are sure to demand an encore: but that I forbid. You see, if you do it twice, they will not believe: but when I step forward and say that you are too much exhausted to do it again, all will be sympathetic and deeply impressed.”
“And now,” said Colette, “he must rest; for no man can do as he has, yet not be glad to sit down.”
I smiled.
“I will rest for an hour,” I said. “And while I am resting, my servant shall polish the weights.” As Bell stepped forward, “Don’t try to move them, Bell: that’s my affair: but take their boxes and put them into the tent. From now on, so long as I use them, the weights will be in your charge. Is that all right, Monsieur Jasper?”
“Sir,” said Jasper, “such treatment is more than they merit. But I knew, without being told, that you would do all things well. Employ the stretcher, I beg you. It is one thing to lift those weights when you are properly poised, but quite another to carry them to and fro.”
Perhaps he was right: though I knew that, with one in each hand, I could have fairly carried four out of the six. Still, I felt it was best to comply, and, while Bell bestowed their boxes, Jasper and I conveyed the weights themselves.
Our tent had been pitched apart, and its mouth faced away from the others on to the countryside. So soon as we were alone, I bade Bell stand in the mouth and be ready to say I was sleeping, if anyone came. Then I spread a towel on the ground and set a weight in its midst; and then I turned the weight over and took out its plate.
The weight was not so capacious as I had supposed it to be. Still, when I considered the sand which I had released, I knew that the six, between them, would certainly take the gems. The weights would then be much lighter, but that, of course, could not be helped: and if nobody touched them but Bell, the difference would not be remarked.
I, therefore, restored the sand and put back the plate. Then I wrote a short note to Man
sel, to tell him that all was well and that I could receive the gems as soon as he pleased. That done, I lay down and rested, for the show was to come and I had been up betimes: and, while I dozed, Bell sat in the mouth of the tent and polished the weights, which were plated, as though they belonged to me.
Here, perhaps, I may mention the rest of the troupe. Besides Colette and Jasper, there were three men and two girls. Two men sang very well and played the mandolin. The third was the quartermaster: he purchased and cooked the food, laid out the camp, cared for the mules and supervised every move. He did not distinguish himself, except as a cook, and Bell and I groomed the mules and watered and fed the poor beasts: but he cooked extremely well, and the table he managed to keep was quite remarkable. I cannot remember eating more savoury food, and the coffee he made was the best I have ever drunk. Which is, of course, why he survived; for Jasper was impatient of his conduct, except as a cook. The two girls could sing and dance, to my mind, admirably. They were not so good as Colette, but she was exceptional. All of them treated me with the greatest respect, and there was quite a scene when I took charge of the mules. Indeed, except at meals, I hardly met them at all; and then Colette and Jasper sat on my right and left. Of these two charming people, I came to grow very fond. They were of the salt of the earth, and I always felt the better for having to do with them.
A light meal was served that evening at half past six, and, when that was done, Colette produced my costume. This may be described as a doublet and hose of light grey, with soft leather shoes to match.
“They are spotless,” she said. “Myself I have washed them twice. The hose, of course, will stretch, but I fear that the jacket is small. Ulysses was not of your stature. Will you put them on, please? And then I will come and see.”
With Bell’s help, I was very soon dressed. To my relief the shoes were an excellent fit: but the jacket was far too tight. The hose expanded to meet the demands I made.
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