Through the dark streets, Adelaide and the little band of students moved towards the Rock. Most of the disturbance was elsewhere: distant shouts, the breaking of windows, the occasional crack that might have been a gunshot. The party kept to the shadows, slipping through the snow-filled lanes and alleys in silence.
When they reached the foot of the Rock, each person went to a different spot. One student went off to the Tristan-Brucke Station, to report on what was happening there; another went to find a carriage and horses. Karl, with four others, set off around the other side to climb the path up which Adelaide had carried the flag on the day of the Coronation. The risk here was that they would be clearly visible, because the whole of that side of the Rock was open to the river and to the bridge. The rest of them, with Jim, Becky and Adelaide, made for the funicular station.
They weren't going to use the train: that would be even more conspicuous than walking up the path. Besides, it would mean involving the station-master, and they didn't want to risk it. However, the train ran on rails laid on horizontal tie-beams of wood that ran up the side of the Rock like a staircase, and against the dark track the climbers would be less conspicuous.
When they reached the little station they found the station-master's house, which doubled as a ticket-office and waiting-room, dark and quiet. One of the carriages rested at the platform, at the end of the long cable which joined it to the other carriage waiting at the summit.
Becky was to remain at the bottom, hiding among the bushes next to the track. "Here," Jim said, and handed her a ball of wool.
"What's it for?"
"Signalling. You hold on to the end and jerk hard if there's any danger. Fritz here is going to unwind it as we go up."
She tied the end of the tight dark wool around her forefinger to make sure she didn't drop it. Then Adelaide, tucking up her cloak, climbed over the wooden fence and on to the steeply sloping track above the carriage. There was only one carriageway, shared by both the ascending and descending carriages. Where they met, halfway up the track, it split into two, the carriages each swerving neatly out of the way of the other.
"Good luck!" Becky said softly. "Viel Gluck!"
She settled down on the discarded beam of wood in the shadow of the bushes. Level with her eyes were the wheels of the carriage, seeming to lean upwards on its angled track, and across the buffers the station lay silent, with its shutters closed and the snowy roof gleaming faintly under the dark sky. A little stream ran past her feet, and she dipped her hand into it and brought up the icy water to her lips, thinking: Walter von Eschten drank from this spring when he was fighting here...
The end of wool in her hand twitched and tugged gently as the others climbed.
Halfway up the track, the ball of wool ran out. Fritz called softly, and Jim handed him another. Fritz tied the ends together.
Snow lay thickly on the wooden beams they were treading on. They were high above the nearby roofs, and Jim was anxious in case they could be seen. From this side of the Rock the main streets and squares, the Cathedral and the bridge and the Palace were out of sight, but the iron-and-glass roof of the Tristan-Brucke Station was glowing dimly a little way off, and Jim thought he could see a bustle of movement in front of it. Under the darkness of the bushes behind them he could hear the running of a stream, and realized it came from the spring that fed the tank of the carriage at the top.
"How does the railway work?" he said quietly to the student beside him as they climbed on.
"The tank in the carriage at the top fills up with water, and then it's heavier than the one at the bottom, so it goes down and pulls the other one up. The driver controls the speed with a brake. While the passengers are getting in and out they fill the tank at the top, and empty the one at the bottom. Simple."
"And do they keep the one at the top filled and ready to go?"
"That I don't know. You're not thinking of coming down in it?"
"Just curious."
They said nothing more till they were nearly at the little station on the top of the Rock. The carriage above them looked as if it would hurtle downwards at any moment and crush them, and Jim was glad to step off the track and climb up on to the station platform. Like the carriage, this was built in two sections at different levels. Fritz crouched at the lower end, wool in hand, while Jim and Adelaide and the others crept up the steps towards the upper platform.
This was on the same level as the summit of the Rock itself, the little flat space where Adelaide had been crowned. At the centre of it stood the flagpole, with the flag hanging stiff and still. The only other structure on the summit was a sentry-box.
The flag guard consisted of two soldiers, who kept guard in watches of four hours, night and day. For much of the time their job was to stand at attention and look ceremonial, but when it was cold the guardsmen would march briskly to and fro to keep warm.
A little wicket-gate separated the station platform from the summit. Keeping under the shadow of the platform roof, Jim crept along until he was nearly at the gate. The sentries had trodden a path into the snow in a square around the flagpole; he could hear the regular stamp of their boots, but for the moment they were out of sight, hidden by the wall of the station building.
Behind Jim came Adelaide and the others. Each of the students held a pistol.
Suddenly there came a harsh command, very loud in the still air: "Halt!Who goes there?"
They still weren't visible, so it must have been the party from the other side that was being challenged. Before Jim could react, Adelaide stepped quickly to the gate and said clearly, "Die Konigin" - the Queen.
Jim was at her side in a moment. The sentries had swung round in confusion, and their rifles pointed now at Karl, coming on to the summit, and now at Adelaide, who was opening the gate.
"Put that rifle down!" Karl said. "Can't you see who this is?"
Both men now gazed open-mouthed as Adelaide lowered the hood of her cloak and stepped forward. A student held up a lantern so that the soldiers could see her face. One looked at the other, doubtfully, but his companion was already presenting arms, tense with astonishment. Finally the first man gathered his wits and did the same.
"I wish Becky was here," Adelaide muttered. "Jim, tell 'em it's my command to take the flag down, because the country's being invaded, and - and we're going to take it to Wendelstein, and if they want to save the country they can come and join us."
Jim translated, with Karl's help. The two sentries looked at each other, doubt clear on their faces.
"But, Your Majesty - the Adlerfahne is here throughout the life of the monarch! We're here to keep it flying, not to take it down!"
Adelaide nodded briskly and said, "I know. And you're good guards, the pair of you. But that's why I've come here, see. I'm going to carry the flag myself. If we don't take it away -"
She broke off, because from the direction of the railway station there came a volley of shots and then the deeper boom of an artillery piece. Everyone's head turned at once. Jim quickly translated her words, and added: "That's the Germans you can hear. A traitor in the Palace tried to put the Queen under arrest and invited them to invade the country. They were going to shoot Her Majesty, but we escaped in time. Now, will you do as she commands and take the flag down?"
One of the men looked up at the flag almost in anguish.
"We're here to guard the flag!" he said. "It's more important than any King or Queen! It's been here for five hundred years, and all that time... All that time there's been men like me guarding it, and ... I can't, Your Majesty! Even if that is the Germans down there, we've got to keep the flag flying on the Rock!"
Adelaide understood enough of that to know what she must say in reply.
"You're right," she said. "And if Walter von Eschten was alive he'd be as proud of you as I am. But he never had to face guns like those down there -"
For another gun had boomed. They could hear shouts as well now, and smoke was rising near the station.
"If the flag stays here," Adelaide went on in an urgent mixture of German and English, "the country will last about an hour. If they come up here now, I'll stand side by side with you and fight to keep it flying. But if we take it away they'll never be able to say they've conquered, because they won't have the flag! And think - think what Walter von Eschten did all those years ago. He took the flag down. He took it to Wendelstein, remember? To the castle there. And he fought the Bohemians and beat them. So that's what we'll do. We'll take the flag to Wendelstein. Everyone in the whole country will know what that means, and they'll come and join us and beat the Germans. See? Join us! Come with me to Wendelstein and save the flag!"
There was a pause of several seconds. No one moved; the doubtful soldier was enduring a wrestling match between his discipline and his imagination, and finally, after nearly half a minute, his imagination won.
He slammed the butt of his rifle down beside him and saluted.
"Private Schweigner," he said. "At your command, ma'am."
"Corporal Kogler," said the other. "We're with you, Your Majesty."
She couldn't restrain a little clap of delight.
"Bully for you!" she said. "Take the flag down quick, then..."
They turned swiftly to the flagpole. As they did, Jim heard a soft whistle from the platform behind, and ran to the gate.
"She's tugging the wool!" Fritz called up in a clear whisper. "Something's happening below!"
Jim leapt down to the next level, at the edge of which Fritz was crouching, and the two of them peered down the slope. The dark track, shadowed by bushes, led down as straight as an arrow to the station at the foot, with the passing-loop the only deviation.
"There's someone on the platform," whispered Fritz. "Two of them - more - they're getting in the carriage! They're going to come up!"
From under the carriage beside them, Jim and Fritz heard a clanking sound, and the carriage jolted very slightly against the brakes clamped to the rails. Then came the sound of water gushing into a tank.
"Open the carriage doors," said Jim, "and quick."
He ran to the steps, scrambled up to the higher platform, and found Karl and two others already opening the wicket-gate, having heard the sound of the filling water-tank.
"Quick!" said Jim. "We'll ride down in this as they ride up - it's controlled from below -"
Behind Karl, the two soldiers were reverently unfastening the flag from the halyard. Adelaide was helping them, folding it like a sheet fresh from the laundry, and finding it hard to do; the cloth was stiffly brocaded with frost.
"Hurry up!" Jim called softly. "There's danger! Move! Bring it on to the platform!"
Adelaide was just folding the last corner over to make a tidy bundle. No one wanted to move until she did; the soldiers had picked up their rifles again, the students were standing aside to make room...
Another loud clank sounded from the carriage as the increasing weight settled it further down against the brakes.
Adelaide set off. Jim, impatient, put his arm around her and almost lifted her through the gate. Karl held it open, and when she was through, the rest followed, some leaping over the fence. All four carriage doors were wide open, and they scrambled inside just as the carriage jerked forward.
"Shut the doors quietly and keep down!" Karl said. "Lie on the floor and keep out of sight!"
Becky, shivering with anxiety, crouched under a snow-laden bush and watched as the men - three of them, the Baron von Godel, a young aide in a top hat and an officer with a sword and plumed helmet - got into the carriage, followed by the grumbling station-master, hastily buttoning his tunic.
She pulled the wool off her finger distractedly; it had served its purpose. She knew Fritz had felt her tug because he'd responded, but she could see nothing of what was happening at the summit.
The station-master, having checked the tension on the cable, swung the brake lever forward, and the carriage moved upwards with a jerk. It moved more smoothly during the day, when he was fully awake, when frost hadn't bound the wheels. Still, it was moving upwards, and Becky came out of the bushes, brushed herself down, and scrambled across the track to climb up on the platform and get a better view.
She was in time to see the graceful way the lower carriage swung to the left, making room for the descending one to pass it on the right and then swing back on to the main track. Thinking that the carriage coming down would be empty, she didn't pay it any attention; all her anxiety was focused on the summit. So when the carriage bumped to a halt in a squeal of brakes, she was still gazing upwards, and she nearly fell over with shock when all four doors opened and a dozen dark figures got out beside her.
"What - oh my God! Jim, is that you?"
"Yeah. And we've got to get away quick. They'll be staring at the flagpole right now, and--"
"The beam!" said Becky.
"What beam?"
"Lay it across the track and -"
She leapt down and scrambled across to the bushes. Karl and another student followed, saw what she was doing, and bent to help. As they did, they heard water cascade out of the carriage tank and into a culvert somewhere below the track. They tugged and hauled at the beam Becky had sat on, and heaved it out from the bushes and on to the rails.
"Jam it under the wheels -" Becky said, desperate, ignoring the scratches and grazes she was collecting.
Two more students joined them, and the log fell awkwardly in front of the wheels just as the cable snapped tight and the carriage jolted forward.
"Watch out!" cried Karl, and pulled Becky out of the way just in time. The carriage was lurching upwards, dragging the log with it.
The other two tipped up the log with a last effort, and it fell between the tie-beams and jammed tight. The carriage stopped with a jerk that made the cable twang like a harp-string.
"Back here, quick," Jim called softly, and they scrambled back across the rails to be helped up to the platform by several hands.
"Listen," Jim went on, "Willi and Michael are back. There's no carriage or horses anywhere, but in one of the sidings they've been making the Royal Train ready. I reckon someone's going to do a bunk, but if we get there quick enough, we can commandeer it. We'll split up now and go in separate parties: me and Private Schweigner with Becky and the Queen; Corporal Kogler with Karl and his group; the rest on your own. Make for the Station. Meet under the statue of whoever it is - those naked women - you know the one. It'll be crowded - we'll have to pretend we don't know each other and talk in whispers. But I've got a plan. Now split up and go! Run!"
The others scattered. Jim helped Adelaide down the slippery steps to the street, and then, holding the heavy bundle in her arms as if it were a child, she set off quietly with the others to walk to the Station. Jim was scribbling something in his notebook as he walked.
From the windows of Count and Countess Thalgau's private apartments, it was possible to see across the roofs of the city to the summit of the Rock. The old man put down his field-glasses and straightened up.
"Minna!" he called. "My uniform. Set it out, please, my dear."
The Countess sat up. She had been dozing fearfully on the sofa.
"But what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to wash and shave and get dressed. Then I'm going to the stables to find a horse."
"You're not well!"
"I'm better than I've ever felt in my life," he said.
His colour was dark, his eyes bloodshot; a tremor shook his left hand, and his foot dragged a little on the carpet. But as he stood in front of her, his chin high, his shoulders thrown back, she knew what he was going to do, and knew it was the right thing, after all. Her eyes seemed to be failing; she couldn't see him clearly; she couldn't see the traitor. All she saw was the proud young soldier she had loved for forty years, still there inside him.
She hastened to find his best uniform, the tight dark-green trousers with the glossy stripe, the jacket with its gold buttons and braid, the black shako with the red plume. Then his
riding boots and cloak; and then the sword-belt, with the long, curved cavalry sabre. She helped him dress. That left hand was bad; he couldn't manage the buttons, but in order to prevent his embarrassment, she did them for him and didn't speak about it.
"My little girl," he said gruffly, and touched her cheek.
He took out the leather holster containing his revolver, and she clipped it to his belt, reloaded; and finally he swung the dark cloak around him, and flung it over his left shoulder.
He faced her. It wasn't easy for either of them to speak. However, the simple intimacies of dressing, buttoning, brushing, the simple openness of standing up straight with one's chin high, the simple tenderness of a familiar hand on one's cheek - these things go deeper than shame.
He kissed her grey head and marched out.
The German General had given Godel an hour to bring him the flag, and he was a man of his word; but when after sixty minutes no one had come back with it, he called for his horse.
Leaving the crowded, jostling, shouting confusion of the Station to the capable hands of his second-in-command, the General and his aide-de-camp left by a side exit. The young officer consulted a plan of the city, and pointed, and the General turned his horse's head towards the Rock.
"D'you know, Neumann," he said, as they made their way through the excited streets, "I think there's something else going on. I shouldn't be surprised if that man Godel had planned a little coup of his own. All the better."
"Why, sir?"
"Politics, dear boy. If there really is something to rescue them from, and we do it, we smell of roses. Is that the Rock? Railway carriage at the top? Men waving lights?"
They peered up through a gap in the houses. The General courteously made his horse step back out of the way of a young couple: a slender girl in cloak and hood with, it appeared, a child in her arms, and a young man in a pea-jacket who put a protective arm around her as they hurried past.
"Something seems to be wrong," said the young officer. "On the summit. Look, I think the railway's broken down or something."
The General had seen it too. He shook the reins, and the horse's hooves clattered loudly as they cantered towards the funicular railway station.
The Tin Princess Page 21