The Prisoner of Zenda
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"And how do they guard the King now?" I asked, remembering that two of
the Six were dead, and Max Holf also.
"Detchard and Bersonin watch by night, Rupert Hentzau and De Gautet by
day, sir," he answered.
"Only two at a time?"
"Ay, sir; but the others rest in a room just above, and are within sound
of a cry or a whistle."
"A room just above? I didn't know of that. Is there any communication
between it and the room where they watch?"
"No, sir. You must go down a few stairs and through the door by the
drawbridge, and so to where the King is lodged."
"And that door is locked?"
"Only the four lords have keys, sir."
I drew nearer to him.
"And have they keys of the grating?" I asked in a low whisper.
"I think, sir, only Detchard and Rupert."
"Where does the duke lodge?"
"In the chateau, on the first floor. His apartments are on the right as
you go towards the drawbridge."
"And Madame de Mauban?"
"Just opposite, on the left. But her door is locked after she has
entered."
"To keep her in?"
"Doubtless, sir."
"Perhaps for another reason?"
"It is possible."
"And the duke, I suppose, has the key?"
"Yes. And the drawbridge is drawn back at night, and of that, too, the
duke holds the key, so that it cannot be run across the moat without
application to him."
"And where do you sleep?"
"In the entrance hall of the chateau, with five servants."
"Armed?"
"They have pikes, sir, but no firearms. The duke will not trust them
with firearms."
Then at last I took the matter boldly in my hands. I had failed once at
"Jacob's Ladder;" I should fail again there. I must make the attack from
the other side.
"I have promised you twenty thousand crowns," said I. "You shall have
fifty thousand if you will do what I ask of you tomorrow night. But,
first, do those servants know who your prisoner is?"
"No, sir. They believe him to be some private enemy of the duke's."
"And they would not doubt that I am the King?"
"How should they?" he asked.
"Look to this, then. Tomorrow, at two in the morning exactly, fling open
the front door of the chateau. Don't fail by an instant."
"Shall you be there, sir?"
"Ask no questions. Do what I tell you. Say the hall is close, or what
you will. That is all I ask of you."
"And may I escape by the door, sir, when I have opened it?"
"Yes, as quick as your legs will carry you. One thing more. Carry this
note to madame--oh, it's in French, you can't read it--and charge her,
for the sake of all our lives, not to fail in what it orders."
The man was trembling but I had to trust to what he had of courage and
to what he had of honesty. I dared not wait, for I feared that the King
would die.
When the fellow was gone, I called Sapt and Fritz to me, and unfolded
the plan that I had formed. Sapt shook his head over it.
"Why can't you wait?" he asked.
"The King may die."
"Michael will be forced to act before that."
"Then," said I, "the King may live."
"Well, and if he does?"
"For a fortnight?" I asked simply.
And Sapt bit his moustache.
Suddenly Fritz von Tarlenheim laid his hand on my shoulder.
"Let us go and make the attempt," said he.
"I mean you to go--don't be afraid," said I.
"Ay, but do you stay here, and take care of the princess."
A gleam came into old Sapt's eye.
"We should have Michael one way or the other then," he chuckled;
"whereas if you go and are killed with the King, what will become of
those of us who are left?"
"They will serve Queen Flavia," said I, "and I would to God I could be
one of them."
A pause followed. Old Sapt broke it by saying sadly, yet with an unmeant
drollery that set Fritz and me laughing:
"Why didn't old Rudolf the Third marry your--great-grandmother, was it?"
"Come," said I, "it is the King we are thinking about."
"It is true," said Fritz.
"Moreover," I went on, "I have been an impostor for the profit of
another, but I will not be one for my own; and if the King is not alive
and on his throne before the day of betrothal comes, I will tell the
truth, come what may."
"You shall go, lad," said Sapt.
Here is the plan I had made. A strong party under Sapt's command was
to steal up to the door of the chateau. If discovered prematurely, they
were to kill anyone who found them--with their swords, for I wanted no
noise of firing. If all went well, they would be at the door when Johann
opened it. They were to rush in and secure the servants if their mere
presence and the use of the King's name were not enough. At the same
moment--and on this hinged the plan--a woman's cry was to ring out loud
and shrill from Antoinette de Mauban's chamber. Again and again she was
to cry: "Help, help! Michael, help!" and then to utter the name of young
Rupert Hentzau. Then, as we hoped, Michael, in fury, would rush out of
his apartments opposite, and fall alive into the hands of Sapt. Still
the cries would go on; and my men would let down the drawbridge; and it
would be strange if Rupert, hearing his name thus taken in vain, did not
descend from where he slept and seek to cross. De Gautet might or might
not come with him: that must be left to chance.
And when Rupert set his foot on the drawbridge? There was my part: for I
was minded for another swim in the moat; and, lest I should grow weary,
I had resolved to take with me a small wooden ladder, on which I could
rest my arms in the water--and my feet when I left it. I would rear it
against the wall just by the bridge; and when the bridge was across, I
would stealthily creep on to it--and then if Rupert or De Gautet crossed
in safety, it would be my misfortune, not my fault. They dead, two men
only would remain; and for them we must trust to the confusion we had
created and to a sudden rush. We should have the keys of the door that
led to the all-important rooms. Perhaps they would rush out. If they
stood by their orders, then the King's life hung on the swiftness with
which we could force the outer door; and I thanked God that not Rupert
Hentzau watched, but Detchard. For though Detchard was a cool man,
relentless, and no coward, he had neither the dash nor the recklessness
of Rupert. Moreover, he, if any one of them, really loved Black Michael,
and it might be that he would leave Bersonin to guard the King, and rush
across the bridge to take part in the affray on the other side.
So I planned--desperately. And, that our enemy might be the better
lulled to security, I gave orders that our residence should be
brilliantly lighted from top to bottom, as though we were engaged in
revelry; and should so be kept all night, with music playing and people
moving to and fro. Strakencz would be there, and he was to conceal our
departure, if he could, from Flavia. And if we came not again by the
morning, he was to march, openly and in force to the Castle, and demand
the person of the King; if Black Michael were not there, as I did not
think he would be, the Marshal would take Flavia with him, as swiftly as
he could, to Strelsau, and there proclaim Black Michael's treachery and
the probable death of the King, and rally all that there was honest and
true round the banner of the princess. And, to say truth, this was what
I thought most likely to happen. For I had great doubts whether either
the King or Black Michael or I had more than a day to live. Well, if
Black Michael died, and if I, the play-actor, slew Rupert Hentzau with
my own hand, and then died myself, it might be that Fate would deal
as lightly with Ruritania as could be hoped, notwithstanding that she
demanded the life of the King--and to her dealing thus with me, I was in
no temper to make objection.
It was late when we rose from conference, and I betook me to the
princess's apartments. She was pensive that evening; yet, when I left
her, she flung her arms about me and grew, for an instant, bashfully
radiant as she slipped a ring on my finger. I was wearing the King's
ring; but I had also on my little finger a plain band of gold engraved
with the motto of our family: "_Nil Quae Feci_." This I took off and put
on her, and signed to her to let me go. And she, understanding, stood
away and watched me with dimmed eyes.
"Wear that ring, even though you wear another when you are queen," I
said.
"Whatever else I wear, this I will wear till I die and after," said she,
as she kissed the ring.
CHAPTER 17
Young Rupert's Midnight Diversions
The night came fine and clear. I had prayed for dirty weather, such as
had favoured my previous voyage in the moat, but Fortune was this time
against me. Still I reckoned that by keeping close under the wall and in
the shadow I could escape detection from the windows of the chateau
that looked out on the scene of my efforts. If they searched the moat,
indeed, my scheme must fail; but I did not think they would. They had
made "Jacob's Ladder" secure against attack. Johann had himself helped
to fix it closely to the masonry on the under side, so that it could
not now be moved from below any more than from above. An assault with
explosives or a long battering with picks alone could displace it, and
the noise involved in either of these operations put them out of the
question. What harm, then, could a man do in the moat? I trusted that
Black Michael, putting this query to himself, would answer confidently,
"None;" while, even if Johann meant treachery, he did not know my
scheme, and would doubtless expect to see me, at the head of my friends,
before the front entrance to the chateau. There, I said to Sapt, was the
real danger. "And there," I added, "you shall be. Doesn't that content
you?"
But it did not. Dearly would he have liked to come with me, had I not
utterly refused to take him. One man might escape notice, to double
the party more than doubled the risk; and when he ventured to hint once
again that my life was too valuable, I, knowing the secret thought he
clung to, sternly bade him be silent, assuring him that unless the King
lived through the night, I would not live through it either.
At twelve o'clock, Sapt's command left the chateau of Tarlenheim and
struck off to the right, riding by unfrequented roads, and avoiding the
town of Zenda. If all went well, they would be in front of the Castle by
about a quarter to two. Leaving their horses half a mile off, they were
to steal up to the entrance and hold themselves in readiness for the
opening of the door. If the door were not opened by two, they were to
send Fritz von Tarlenheim round to the other side of the Castle. I would
meet him there if I were alive, and we would consult whether to storm
the Castle or not. If I were not there, they were to return with all
speed to Tarlenheim, rouse the Marshal, and march in force to Zenda. For
if not there, I should be dead; and I knew that the King would not be
alive five minutes after I ceased to breathe. I must now leave Sapt and
his friends, and relate how I myself proceeded on this eventful night.
I went out on the good horse which had carried me, on the night of
the coronation, back from the hunting-lodge to Strelsau. I carried a
revolver in the saddle and my sword. I was covered with a large cloak,
and under this I wore a warm, tight-fitting woollen jersey, a pair of
knickerbockers, thick stockings, and light canvas shoes. I had rubbed
myself thoroughly with oil, and I carried a large flask of whisky. The
night was warm, but I might probably be immersed a long while, and it
was necessary to take every precaution against cold: for cold not only
saps a man's courage if he has to die, but impairs his energy if others
have to die, and, finally, gives him rheumatics, if it be God's will
that he lives. Also I tied round my body a length of thin but stout
cord, and I did not forget my ladder. I, starting after Sapt, took a
shorter route, skirting the town to the left, and found myself in the
outskirts of the forest at about half-past twelve. I tied my horse up
in a thick clump of trees, leaving the revolver in its pocket in the
saddle--it would be no use to me--and, ladder in hand, made my way to
the edge of the moat. Here I unwound my rope from about my waist, bound
it securely round the trunk of a tree on the bank, and let myself down.
The Castle clock struck a quarter to one as I felt the water under me
and began to swim round the keep, pushing the ladder before me, and
hugging the Castle wall. Thus voyaging, I came to my old friend,
"Jacob's Ladder," and felt the ledge of the masonry under me. I crouched
down in the shadow of the great pipe--I tried to stir it, but it was
quite immovable--and waited. I remember that my predominant feeling
was neither anxiety for the King nor longing for Flavia, but an intense
desire to smoke; and this craving, of course, I could not gratify.
The drawbridge was still in its place. I saw its airy, slight framework
above me, some ten yards to my right, as I crouched with my back against
the wall of the King's cell. I made out a window two yards my side of it
and nearly on the same level. That, if Johann spoke true, must belong to
the duke's apartments; and on the other side, in about the same relative
position, must be Madame de Mauban's window. Women are careless,
forgetful creatures. I prayed that she might not forget that she was to
be the victim of a brutal attempt at two o'clock precisely. I was rather
amused at the part I had assigned to my young friend Rupert Hentzau; but
I owed him a stroke--for, even as I sat, my shoulder ached where he had,
with an audacity that seemed half to hide his treachery, struck at me,
in the sight of all my friends, on the terrace at Tarlenheim.
Suddenly the duke's window grew bright. The shutters were not closed,
and the interior became partially visible to me as I cautiously raised
myself till I stood on tiptoe. Thus placed, my range of sight embraced a
yard or more inside the window, while the radius of light did not
reach me. The window was flung open and someone looked out. I marked
Antoinette de Mauban's graceful figure, and, though her face was in
shadow, the fine outline of her head was revealed against the light
behind. I longed to cry softly, "Remember!" but I dared not--and
happily, for a moment later a man came up and stood by her. He tried to
put his arm round her waist, but with a swift motion she sprang away and
leant against the shutter, her profile towards me. I made out who the
newcomer was: it was young Rupert. A low laugh from him made me sure, as
he leant forward, stretching out his hand towards her.
"Gently, gently!" I murmured. "You're too soon, my boy!"
His head was close to hers. I suppose he whispered to her, for I saw her
point to the moat, and I heard her say, in slow and distinct tones:
"I had rather throw myself out of this window!"
He came close up to the window and looked out.
"It looks cold," said he. "Come, Antoinette, are you serious?"
She made no answer so far as I heard; and he smiting his hand petulantly
on the window-sill, went on, in the voice of some spoilt child:
"Hang Black Michael! Isn't the princess enough for him? Is he to have
everything? What the devil do you see in Black Michael?"
"If I told him what you say--" she began.
"Well, tell him," said Rupert, carelessly; and, catching her off her
guard, he sprang forward and kissed her, laughing, and crying, "There's
something to tell him!"
If I had kept my revolver with me, I should have been very sorely
tempted. Being spared the temptation, I merely added this new score to
his account.
"Though, faith," said Rupert, "it's little he cares. He's mad about the
princess, you know. He talks of nothing but cutting the play-actor's
throat."
Didn't he, indeed?
"And if I do it for him, what do you think he's promised me?"
The unhappy woman raised her hands above her head, in prayer or in
despair.
"But I detest waiting," said Rupert; and I saw that he was about to
lay his hand on her again, when there was a noise of a door in the room
opening, and a harsh voice cried:
"What are you doing here, sir?"
Rupert turned his back to the window, bowed low, and said, in his loud,
merry tones: "Apologizing for your absence, sir. Could I leave the lady
alone?"
The newcomer must be Black Michael. I saw him directly, as he advanced
towards the window. He caught young Rupert by the arm.
"The moat would hold more than the King!" said he, with a significant
gesture.
"Does your Highness threaten me?" asked Rupert.
"A threat is more warning than most men get from me."
"Yet," observed Rupert, "Rudolf Rassendyll has been much threatened, and
yet lives!"
"Am I in fault because my servants bungle?" asked Michael scornfully.
"Your Highness has run no risk of bungling!" sneered Rupert.
It was telling the duke that he shirked danger as plain as ever I
have heard a man told. Black Michael had self-control. I dare say he
scowled--it was a great regret to me that I could not see their faces
better--but his voice was even and calm, as he answered:
"Enough, enough! We mustn't quarrel, Rupert. Are Detchard and Bersonin
at their posts?"
"They are, sir."
"I need you no more."
"Nay, I'm not oppressed with fatigue," said Rupert.
"Pray, sir, leave us," said Michael, more impatiently. "In ten minutes
the drawbridge will be drawn back, and I presume you have no wish to
swim to your bed."
Rupert's figure disappeared. I heard the door open and shut again.
Michael and Antoinette de Mauban were left together. To my chagrin,
the duke laid his hand on the window and closed it. He stood talking
to Antoinette for a moment or two. She shook her head, and he turned
impatiently away. She left the window. The door sounded again, and Black
Michael closed the shutters.
"De Gautet, De Gautet, man!" sounded from the drawbridge. "Unless you
want a bath before your bed, come along!"
It was Rupert's voice, coming from the end of the drawbridge. A moment
later he and De Gautet stepped out on the bridge. Rupert's arm was
through De Gautet's, and in the middle of the bridge he detained his
companion and leant over. I dropped behind the shelter of "Jacob's
Ladder."
Then Master Rupert had a little sport. He took from De Gautet a bottle
which he carried, and put it to his lips.
"Hardly a drop!" he cried discontentedly, and flung it in the moat.
It fell, as I judged from the sound and the circles on the water, within
a yard of the pipe. And Rupert, taking out his revolver, began to shoot
at it. The first two shots missed the bottle, but hit the pipe. The
third shattered the bottle. I hoped that the young ruffian would be
content; but he emptied the other barrels at the pipe, and one, skimming
over the pipe, whistled through my hair as I crouched on the other side.
"'Ware bridge!" a voice cried, to my relief.
Rupert and De Gautet cried, "A moment!" and ran across. The bridge was
drawn back, and all became still. The clock struck a quarter-past one. I
rose and stretched myself and yawned.
I think some ten minutes had passed when I heard a slight noise to my
right. I peered over the pipe, and saw a dark figure standing in the
gateway that led to the bridge. It was a man. By the careless, graceful
poise, I guessed it to be Rupert again. He held a sword in his hand, and
he stood motionless for a minute or two. Wild thoughts ran through me.
On what mischief was the young fiend bent now? Then he laughed low
to himself; then he turned his face to the wall, took a step in my
direction, and, to my surprise, began to climb down the wall. In an
instant I saw that there must be steps in the wall; it was plain. They
were cut into or affixed to the wall, at intervals of about eighteen
inches. Rupert set his foot on the lower one. Then he placed his sword
between his teeth, turned round, and noiselessly let himself into the
water. Had it been a matter of my life only, I would have swum to
meet him. Dearly would I have loved to fight it out with him then and
there--with steel, on a fine night, and none to come between us. But
there was the King! I restrained myself, but I could not bridle my swift
breathing, and I watched him with the intensest eagerness.
He swam leisurely and quietly across. There were more steps up on
the other side, and he climbed them. When he set foot in the gateway,
standing on the drawn-back bridge, he felt in his pocket and took
something out. I heard him unlock the door. I could hear no noise of its
closing behind him. He vanished from my sight.
Abandoning my ladder--I saw I did not need it now--I swam to the side of
the bridge and climbed half way up the steps. There I hung with my sword
in my hand, listening eagerly. The duke's room was shuttered and dark.
There was a light in the window on the opposite side of the bridge.
Not a sound broke the silence, till half-past one chimed from the great
clock in the tower of the chateau.
There were other plots than mine afoot in the Castle that night.
CHAPTER 18
The Forcing of the Trap
The position wherein I stood does not appear very favourable to thought;
yet for the next moment or two I thought profoundly. I had, I told
myself, scored one point. Be Rupert Hentzau's errand what it might, and
the villainy he was engaged on what it would, I had scored one point. He
was on the other side of the moat from the King, and it would be by no
fault of mine if ever he set foot on the same side again. I had three
left to deal with: two on guard and De Gautet in his bed. Ah, if I
had the keys! I would have risked everything and attacked Detchard and
Bersonin before their friends could join them. But I was powerless. I
must wait till the coming of my friends enticed someone to cross the
bridge--someone with the keys. And I waited, as it seemed, for half an
hour, really for about five minutes, before the next act in the rapid
drama began.
All was still on the other side. The duke's room remained inscrutable
behind its shutters. The light burnt steadily in Madame de Mauban's
window. Then I heard the faintest, faintest sound: it came from behind
the door which led to the drawbridge on the other side of the moat. It
but just reached my ear, yet I could not be mistaken as to what it was.
It was made by a key being turned very carefully and slowly. Who was
turning it? And of what room was it the key? There leapt before my eyes
the picture of young Rupert, with the key in one hand, his sword in the
other, and an evil smile on his face. But I did not know what door it
was, nor on which of his favourite pursuits young Rupert was spending
the hours of that night.
I was soon to be enlightened, for the next moment--before my friends
could be near the chateau door--before Johann the keeper would have
thought to nerve himself for his task--there was a sudden crash from
the room with the lighted window. It sounded as though someone had flung
down a lamp; and the window went dark and black. At the same instant a
cry rang out, shrill in the night: "Help, help! Michael, help!" and was
followed by a shriek of utter terror.
I was tingling in every nerve. I stood on the topmost step, clinging to
the threshold of the gate with my right hand and holding my sword in my
left. Suddenly I perceived that the gateway was broader than the bridge;
there was a dark corner on the opposite side where a man could stand. I
darted across and stood there. Thus placed, I commanded the path, and no
man could pass between the chateau and the old Castle till he had tried
conclusions with me.
There was another shriek. Then a door was flung open and clanged against
the wall, and I heard the handle of a door savagely twisted.
"Open the door! In God's name, what's the matter?" cried a voice--the
voice of Black Michael himself.
He was answered by the very words I had written in my letter.
"Help, Michael--Hentzau!"
A fierce oath rang out from the duke, and with a loud thud he threw
himself against the door. At the same moment I heard a window above my
head open, and a voice cried: "What's the matter?" and I heard a man's
hasty footsteps. I grasped my sword. If De Gautet came my way, the Six
would be less by one more.
Then I heard the clash of crossed swords and a tramp of feet and--I
cannot tell the thing so quickly as it happened, for all seemed to come
at once. There was an angry cry from madame's room, the cry of a wounded
man; the window was flung open; young Rupert stood there sword in hand.
He turned his back, and I saw his body go forward to the lunge.
"Ah, Johann, there's one for you! Come on, Michael!"
Johann was there, then--come to the rescue of the duke! How would he
open the door for me? For I feared that Rupert had slain him.
"Help!" cried the duke's voice, faint and husky.
I heard a step on the stairs above me; and I heard a stir down to my
left, in the direction of the King's cell. But, before anything happened
on my side of the moat, I saw five or six men round young Rupert in
the embrasure of madame's window. Three or four times he lunged with
incomparable dash and dexterity. For an instant they fell back, leaving
a ring round him. He leapt on the parapet of the window, laughing as he
leapt, and waving his sword in his hand. He was drunk with blood, and he
laughed again wildly as he flung himself headlong into the moat.