CHAPTER XXII.
A TALK WITH OTTO. I ESCAPE TO INNSPRUCK.
"Of what happened at Bristol," he began, "you know well-nigh as muchas I do, in a sense, maybe more; for I have never learnt to this daywhy my master, the late Count, left me behind there to keep an eyeupon the old attorney and Sir Julian Harnwood's visitors. There's onlyone thing I need tell you. The night you came from the Bridewell,after--well, after----" He hesitated, seeming at a loss for a word. Iunderstood what it was that he stuck at, and realising that my turnhad come to chuckle, I said, with a laugh:
"The blow was a good one, Otto."
"'Twas not so good as you thought," he replied rather hotly, "not by agreat deal; and for all that you ran away so fast," he repeated thephrase with considerable emphasis, "for all that you ran away so fast,I found out where you lodged. I passed the lawyer man as he was comingback alone, and remembering that I had traced him into Limekiln Lanein the afternoon, I returned there the next morning. The 'ThatchedHouse' was the only tavern in the street, and I inquired whether awoman had stayed there overnight. They told me no; they had only putup one traveller, and he had left already. I thought no more of thisat the time, believing my suspicions to be wrong, and so got me backto Lukstein. After the wedding-night I told the Countess all that Iknew."
"Wait!" I said, interrupting him.
There was a point I had long been anxious to resolve, and I thought Ishould never get so likely an opportunity for the question again.
"Was Count Lukstein betrothed at the time that he came to theHotwells?"
"Most assuredly," he replied, and I wondered greatly at the strangemadness which should lead a man astray to chase a pretty face, whenall the while he loved another, and was plighted to her.
Otto resumed his story.
"I told all that I knew: my master's anxiety concerning Sir Julian,his relief when I brought him the news hither that only a woman hadvisited the captive on the night before his execution, and hisapparent fear of peril. My mistress broke open the gold case which youhad left behind, and asked whether the likeness was the likeness ofSir Julian's visitor. I assured her it was not, but she was convincedthat this Bristol pother was at the bottom of the trouble. We couldfind no trace of you beyond your footsteps in the snow, and thefootsteps of the woman who was with you. I have often wondered how sheclimbed the Lukstein rock."
He paused as though expecting an answer. But I had no inclination toargue my innocence in that respect with one of Ilga's servants, andpresently he continued:
"Well, a quiet tongue is wisdom where women are concerned. No one inthe valley had seen you come; no one had seen you go. But my lady wasset upon discovering the truth and punishing the assailant herself. Soshe said as little as she could to the neighbours, and the followingspring took me with her to London."
"Where I promptly jumped into the trap," said I.
"You did that and more. You set the trap yourself before you jumpedinto it."
'Twas my own thought that he uttered, and I asked him how he came byit.
"I mean this. 'Twas my lady's hope to discover the original of theminiature, and so get at the man who was with her. But we had not towait for that. You left something else behind you besides theminiature."
"I did," I replied. "I left a pair of spurs and a pistol, but I seenot how they could serve you."
"The spurs were of little profit in our search. You have worn themsince, it is true, but one pair of spurs is like another. For thepistol, however--that was another matter. It had the gunmaker's nameupon the barrel, and also the name of the town where it was made."
"Leyden?" I exclaimed.
"That was the name--Leyden."
At last I understood. I recalled that evening when Elmscott presentedme to Ilga, and how frankly I had spoken to her of my life.
"We journeyed to Leyden first of all," he resumed, "and sought out thegunmaker. But he did not remember selling the pistol, or, perhaps,would not--at all events, we got no help from him, and went on toLondon. In the beginning I believe Countess Lukstein was inclined tosuspect Mr. Marston. You see he came from Bristol, and so completelydid this search possess her that everything which concerned that cityseemed to her to have some bearing upon her disaster. But she soonabandoned that idea, and--and--well, I know not why, but Mr. Marstonleft London for a time. Then you were brought to the house, and onyour first visit you told her that your home was in Cumberland, whereSir Julian Harnwood lived; that you had been till recently a studentat Leyden, and that there were few other English students therebesides yourself. At first I think she did not seriously accuse you ofCount Lukstein's death. It seemed little likely; you had not the lookof it. I did not recognise you at all, and, further, my mistressherself inquired much of you concerning your actions, and you let slipno hint that could convict you."
I remembered what interest the Countess had seemed to take in myuneventful history, and how her questions had delighted me, flatteringmy vanity and lifting me to the topmasts of hope; and the irony of myrecollections made me laugh aloud.
"Howbeit," he went on, paying no heed to my interruption--therewas no great merriment in my laughter, and it may be that heunderstood--"Howbeit, her suspicions were alert, and then Mr. Marstoncame back to London. She learnt from him that you had passed throughLondon in a great hurry one night, and from Lord Culverton that thenight was in September and that your destination was Bristol. I wantedto ride there and see what I could discover, but my mistress would notallow me. I don't know, but at that time I almost fancied sheregretted her resolve, and would fain have let the matter lie."
'Twas at that time also, I remembered, that the Countess treated me sowaywardly, and I coupled Otto's remark and my remembrance together,and set them aside as food for future pondering.
"Then she showed you the miniature. You faced it out and denied allknowledge of it So far so good. But that same morning you brought LadyTracy into the house, and that was the ruin of you. Oh, I know," hewent on as I sought to interrupt him, "I know! You faced that matterout too. You brought Lady Tracy to bear witness that you and she werenever acquainted. 'Twas a cunning device and it deceived my mistress;but you did not take me into account. I opened the door to you, and Irecognised Lady Tracy as the original of the miniature. Well, I lookedat her carefully, wondering whether I could have made a mistake,whether it was she whom I had seen at the Bristol prison after all. Ifelt certain it was not, but all the same I kept thinking about it asI went upstairs to announce you. Lady Tracy was dark; the other woman,I remembered, fair and over-tall for a woman. So I went on comparingthem, setting the two faces side by side in my mind. Well, when I cameback again there were you and Lady Tracy standing side by side--thetwo faces that were side by side in my thoughts. The sunlight was fullupon you both. Lord! I was cluttered out of my senses. I knew you atonce. Height, face, everything fitted. I told my mistress immediatelyafter you had gone. She would not believe it at first; but soon aftershe informed me that Lady Tracy had been betrothed to Sir JulianHarnwood. That night we visited your rooms, as I have told you."
"Ay," said I, "Marston told her of his sister's betrothal in CoventGarden."
'Twas indeed at the very time that the Countess was tracing thatdiagram in the gravel.
"The visit to your rooms convinced Countess Lukstein."
"No doubt," said I, and I explained to him how she had traced thediagram, and my mention of the date which had given her the clue to myHorace.
"But that's not all," he laughed. "'Tis true that my mistress knewthat she had seen that same plan somewhere. 'Tis true your mention ofthe date told her where. But the plan which my lady drew on the gravelwas different from yours in one respect. It lacked the line whichshowed your way of ascent, the line which stood for the rib of rock."
"Well?"
"Well, you added that line yourself while you were talking."
"I did!" I exclaimed.
I could not credit it; but then I recollected how Ilga
had suddenlystooped forward and obliterated the diagram with a sweep of her stick.
"Ay, Otto!" I said. "You spoke truth indeed. I set the traps myself."
"The next morning we started for Bristol. We drove to the 'ThatchedHouse Tavern,' and with the help of a few coins wormed the truth fromthe chambermaid. She had told me before that a man had stayed at theinn on that particular night and I had no doubt who was the man. Weknew the story; we merely needed her to confirm it."
With that he laid his pipe aside, and was for settling to sleep. But Ihad one more question to ask him.
"When Lord Elmscott came to find me at Countess Lukstein's apartments,he was informed I was not there, and the door of the room in which Ilay was locked."
"We intended to convey you out of the country ourselves," he laughed,"and that very night. 'Twould indeed have saved much trouble had LordElmscott been delayed an hour or so upon the road. A boat was inwaiting for us on the river."
'Twas long before I could follow Otto's example and compose myself tosleep. Using his narrative as a commentary, I read over and over againmy memories of those weeks in London, and each time I felt yet moreconvinced that this deed had been brought home to me through nocunning of the Countess, through no great folly of mine, but simplybecause Providence had so willed it. As Otto said, I had set the trapsmyself, and bethinking me of this, I recalled a phrase which I hadspoken to Count Lukstein. "I can fight you," I had said, "but I can'tfight your wife." In what a strange way had the remark come true!
The next morning Otto departed from the hollow, and fearing lest hemight presently despatch two other of Countess Lukstein's servants tofill up the complement of my guards, I determined to make my effort atenlargement that very night. I took my axe boldly from the corner ofthe room when the time came for me to mount to the loft. The peasantsscowled but said nothing, and 'twas with a very great relief that Iunderstood Otto had been as good as his word. It had been my habit oflate to secrete about me at each meal some fragment of my portion ofbread, so that I had now a good number of such morsels hidden awayamong the leaves of my bed. These I gathered together, and fastenedinside my shirt, and then sat me down, with such patience as I might,to wait until the peasants beneath me were sound asleep. The delaywould have been more endurable had there been some window or openingin the loft. But to sit there in the darkness, never knowing but whatthe sky was clouding over and a storm gathering upon the heights,'twas the quintessence of suspense, and it wrought in me like a fever.I allowed two hours, as near as I could guess, to elapse, and then,working quietly with my axe, I cut a hole through the thatch at thecorner most distant from the room of my gaolers, and dropped sometwelve feet on to the ground. There was no moon to light me but thesparkle of innumerable stars, and the night was black in the valleyand purple about the cheerless hills. Cautiously I made my way overthe grass towards the ridge, taking the air into my lungs with anexquisite enjoyment like one that has long been cooped in a sick-room.
Whimsically enough, I thought not at all of the dangers which werelike to beset me, but rather of Ilga in her Castle of Lukstein; andwalking forwards in the lonely quiet, I wondered whether at thatmoment she was asleep.
The ridge, as I had hoped, was entirely compacted of earth and stones.'Twas thrown up to a considerable height above the ice, and resembleda great earthwork raised for defence, such as I have seen since aboutthe walls of Londonderry. I was able to walk along the crest for someway with no more peril than was occasioned by the darkness and thenarrow limits of my path, and taking to some rocks which jutted outfrom the snow, about two hours after daybreak, I reached the top ofthe hill at noon. To my great delight I perceived that I stood, as itwere, upon a neck of the mountain. To my left the Wildthurm rose in asweeping line of ice, ever higher and higher towards the peak; to myright it terminated in a ridge of rocks which again rose upwards, andcircled about the head of the ravine. I had nothing to do but todescend; so I lay down to rest myself for a while, and take my lastlook at Captivity Hollow and the hut wherein I had been imprisoned.The descent, however, was not so easy a matter as I believed it wouldbe. For some distance, it is true, I could walk without muchdifficulty, kicking a sort of staircase in the snow with my feet; butafter a while the incline became steeper, and, moreover, was inlaidwith strips of ice, wherein I had to cut holes with my hatchet beforeI could secure a footing. Indeed, I doubt whether I should have comesafe off from this adventure but for the many crags and rocks whichstudded the slope. By keeping close to these, however, I was able toget solid hold for my hands, the while I stepped upon the treacherousice. Towards the foot of the mountain, moreover, the ice was splitwith great gashes and chasms, so deep that I could see no bottom tothem, but only an azure haze; and I was often compelled to make longcircuits before I could discover a passage. Once or twice, besides,when the ground seemed perfectly firm, I slipped a leg through thecrust and felt it touch nothing; and taking warning from theseaccidents, I proceeded henceforth more cautiously, tapping the snow infront of me with the hatchet at each step.
These hindrances did so delay me that I was still upon the mountainwhen night fell, and not daring to continue this perilous journey inthe dark, I crept under the shelter of a rock, and so lay shiveringuntil the morning. However, I bethought me of my loft and itsthatch-roof, and contrasting it with the open sky, passed the nightpleasantly enough. I had still enough of my bread left over to serveme for breakfast in the morning, and since there was no water to begot, I made shift to moisten my throat by sucking lumps of ice. Latethat afternoon I came down into a desolate valley, and felt the greenturf once more spring beneath my feet. 'Twas closing in very dark andblack. In front of me I could see the rain stretched across the hillslike a diaphanous veil, shot here and there by a stray thread ofsunlight; while behind, the heights of the Wildthurm were hidden by awhite crawling mist. Looking at this mist, I could not but be sensibleof the dangers from which I had escaped, and with a heart full ofgratitude I knelt down and thanked God for that He had reached out Hishand above me to save my life.
For many days I journeyed among these upland valleys, passing from hutto hut and from ravine to ravine, moving ever westwards from Lukstein,and descended finally into the high-road close to the village ofNauders. Thence I proceeded along the Inn Thal to Innspruck, earningmy food each day by cutting wood into logs at the various taverns, orby some such service; and as for lodging, 'twas no great hardship tosleep in the fields at this season of the year. At Innspruck, however,whither I came in the first days of July, I was sore put to it to findemployment, which should keep me from starving until such time as Icould receive letters of credit from England. My first thought was toobtain the position of usher or master in one of the many schools andcolleges of the town. But wherever I applied they only laughed in myface, and unceremoniously closed the door upon my entreaties. Nor,indeed, could I wonder at their behaviour, for what with my tornpeasant's clothes, my bare, scarred knees, and my face, which wasburnt to the colour of a ripe apple, I looked the most unlikely tutorthat ever ruined a boy's education. At one school--'twas the last atwhich I sought employment--the master informed me that he "did his ownwhipping," and wandering thence in a great despondency of spirit, Icame into the Neustadt, which is the principal street of the town.There I chanced to espy the sign of a fencing-master, and realisingwhat little profit I was like to make of such rusty book-learning as Istill retained, I crossed the road and proffered him the assistance ofmy services. At the onset he was inclined to treat my offer with noless hilarity than the schoolmasters had shown; but being now at mywits' end, I persisted, and perhaps vaunted my skill more thanbefitted a gentleman. 'Twas, I think, chiefly to disprove my words,and so rid himself of me, that he bade me take a foil and stand onguard. In the first bout, however, I was lucky enough to secure theadvantage, as also in the second. In a fluster of anger he insistedthat I should engage upon a third, and thereupon I deemed it prudentto allow him to get the better of me, though not by so much as wouldgive him the right to accuse me of a
lack of skill. The ruse wasentirely successful; for he was so delighted with his success that hehired me straightway as his lieutenant, and was pleased to complimentme upon my mastery of the weapon; not but what he declared I had manyfaults in the matter of style, which I might correct under histuition.
In this occupation I remained for some three months. I wrote a letterimmediately to Jack Larke, but received no answer whatsoever. Eachweek, however, I put by a certain sum out of my wages until I hadaccumulated sufficient to carry me, if I practised economy, toEngland. In the beginning of September, then, I gave up my position; apupil, on hearing of my purposed journey, most generously presented mewith a horse, which I accepted as a loan, and one fine morning Imounted on to the animal's back and rode out towards the gates of thetown.
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE LAST.
Now the road which I chose led past the Hofgarten, a great open spaceof lawns and shrubberies which had been enclosed and presented to thetown by Leopold, the late Archduke of Styria. Opposite to the gates ofthis garden stood the "Black Stag," at that time the principal inn,and I noticed ahead of me four or five mounted men waiting at thedoor. Drawing nearer I perceived that these men wore the livery ofCountess Lukstein.
My first impulse was to turn my horse's head and ride off with allspeed in the contrary direction; but bethinking me that they wouldnever dare to make an attempt upon my liberty in the streets of anorderly city, I resolved to continue on my way, and pay no heed tothem as I passed. And this I began to do, walking my horse slowly, sothat they might not think I had any fear of them. Otto was stationedat the head of the troop, a few paces in advance of the rest, and Iwas well-nigh abreast of him before any of the servants perceived whopassed them. Even then 'twas myself who invited their attention. Forturning my head I saw the Countess just within the gates of thegarden. She was habited in a riding-dress, and was taking leave of agentleman who was with her.
On the instant I stopped my horse.
"Here, Otto!" I cried, and flinging the reins to him, I jumped to theground.
I heard him give a startled exclamation, but I stayed not to cast aglance at him, and walked instantly forwards to where Ilga stood. Iwas within two paces of her before she turned and saw me. She reachedout a hand to the gate, and so steadying herself looked at me for alittle without a word. I bowed low, and took another step towards her,whereupon she turned again to her companion and began to speak veryvolubly, the colour going and coming quickly upon her face. For mypart I made no effort to interrupt her. I had schooled myself to thinkof her as one whom I should never see again, and here we were face toface. I remained contentedly waiting with my hat in my hand.
"You have been long in Innspruck?" she asked of me at length, andadded, with some hesitation, "Mr. Buckler?"
"Three months, madame," I replied.
"But you are leaving?"
She looked across to my horse, which Otto was holding. A smallvalise, containing the few necessaries I possessed, was slung to thesaddle-bow.
"I return to England," said I.
She presented me to the gentleman who talked with her, but I did notcatch his name any more than the conversation they resumed. 'Twasenough for me to hear the sweet sound of her voice; as, when a singersings, one is charmed by the music of his tones, and recks little ofthe words of his song. At last, however, her companion made his bow.Ilga stretched out her hand to him and said:
"You will come, then, to Lukstein?" and detaining him, as it seemed tome, she added, "I would ask Mr. Buckler to come, too, only I fear thathe has no great opinion of our hospitality."
"Madame," I replied simply, "if you ask me, I will come."
She stood for the space of some twenty seconds with her eyes bent uponthe ground. Then, raising her face with a look which was wonderfullytimid and shy, she said:
"You are a brave man, Mr. Buckler"; and after another pause, "I do askyou."
With that she crossed the road and mounted upon her horse. I did thesame, and the little cavalcade rode out from Innspruck along thehighway to Landeck. The Countess pressed on ahead, and thinking thatshe had no wish to speak with me, I rode some paces behind her. Behindme came Otto and the servants. Otto, I should say, had resumed his oldimpenetrable air. He was once more the servant, and seemed to havecompletely forgotten our companionship in Captivity Hollow. Thus wetravelled until we came near to the village of Silz.
Now all this morning one regretful thought had been buzzing in myhead. 'Twas an old thought, one that I had lived with many a month.Yet never had it become familiar to me; the pain which it brought wasalways fresh and sharp. But now, since I saw Countess Lukstein again,since she rode in front of me, since each moment my eyes beheld her,this regret grew and grew until it was lost in a great longing tospeak out my mind, and, if so I might, ease myself of my burden.Consequently I spurred my horse lightly, and as we entered Silz I drewlevel with the Countess.
"Madame," I said, "I see plainly enough that you have no heart for mycompany, neither do I intend any idle intrusion. I would but say twowords to you. They have been on my lips ever since I caught sight ofyou on the Hofgarten; they have been in my heart for the weariest spanof days. When I told you that I entered Castle Lukstein alone, God ismy witness that I spoke the truth. No woman was with me. I championedno woman; by no ties was I bound to any woman in this world. This Iwould have you believe; for it is the truth. I could not lie to you ifI would; it is the truth."
She made me no answer, but bowed her head down on her horse's mane, sothat I could see nothing of her face, and thinking sadly that shewould not credit me, I tightened my reins that I might fall backbehind her. It may be that she noticed the movement of my hands. Iknow not, nor, indeed, shall I be at any pains to speculate upon hermotive. 'Twas her action which occupied my thoughts then and for hoursafterwards. She suddenly lifted her face towards me, all rosy withblushes and wearing that sweet look which I had once and once onlyremarked before. I mean when she pledged me in her apartments in PallMall.
"Then," says she, "we will travel no further afield to-day," and shedrew rein before the first inn we came to.
I was greatly perplexed by this precipitate action, also by the wordshe used, inasmuch as we were not travelling afield at all, but on thecontrary directly towards her home. Besides, 'twas still early in theafternoon. Howbeit, there we stayed, and the Countess retiringprivately to her room, I saw no more of her until the night was come.'Twas about eleven of the clock when I heard a light tap upon my door,and opening it, I perceived that she was my visitor. She laid a fingerupon her lip and slipped quietly into the room. In her hand she heldher hat and whip, and these she laid upon the table.
"You have not inquired," she began, "why I asked you to return with meto Lukstein, what end I had in view."
"In truth, madame," I replied, "I gave no thought to it;only--only----"
"Only I asked you, and you came," she said in a voice that broke andfaltered. "Even after all you had suffered at my hands, even in spiteof what you still might suffer, I asked you, and you came."
She spoke in a low wondering tone, and with a queer feeling of shame Ihastened to reply:
"Madame, if you were in my place, you would understand that there islittle strange in that."
"Let me finish!" she said. "Lord Elmscott and your friend, Mr. Larke,are awaiting you at Lukstein. When your friend returned to Englandwithout you, he could hear no word of you. He had no acquaintance withLord Elmscott, and did not know of him at all. He met Lord Elmscott inLondon this spring for the first time. It appears that your cousinsuspected something of the trouble that stood between you and me, butuntil he met Mr. Larke he believed you were travelling in Italy. Mr.Larke gave him the account of your first journey into the Tyrol. Theyfound out Sir Julian's attorney at Bristol, and learned the cause ofit from him. They came to Lukstein two months ago, and told me whatyou would not. I went up to the hills myself to bring you home; youhad escaped, and your--the m
en had concealed your flight in fear of myanger. Lord Elmscott went to Meran, I came to Innspruck; and wearranged to return after we had searched a month. The month is gone.They will be at Lukstein now."
So much she said, though with many a pause and with so keen aself-reproach in her tone that I could hardly bear to hear her, when Iinterrupted:
"And you have been a month searching for me in Innspruck?"
She took no heed of my interruption.
"So, you see," she continued, "I know the whole truth. I know, too,that you hid the truth out of kindness to me, and--and----"
She was wearing the gold cross which I had sent to her by Otto's hand.It hung on a long chain about her neck, and I took it gently into mypalm.
"And is there nothing more you know?" I asked.
"I know that you love me," she whispered, "that you love me still. Oh!how is it possible?" And then she raised her eyes to mine and laid twotrembling hands upon my shoulders. "But it is true. You told me sothis afternoon."
"I told you?" I asked in some surprise.
"Ay, and more surely than if you had spoken it out. That is why Istopped our horses in the village. It is why I am with you now."
She glanced towards her hat and whip, and I understood. I realisedwhat it would cost her to carry me back as her guest to Lukstein afterall that had passed there.
I opened the door and stepped out on to the landing. A panel ofmoonlight was marked out upon the floor. 'Twas the only light in thepassage, and the house was still as an empty cave. When I came backinto the room Ilga was standing with her hat upon her head.
"And what of Lukstein?"
"A sop to Father Spaur," she said with a happy laugh, and reaching outa hand to me she blew out the candle. I guided her to the landing, andthere stopped and kissed her.
"I have hungered for that," said I, "for a year and more."
"And I too," she whispered, "dear heart, and I too," and I felt herarms tighten about my neck. "Oh, how you must have hated me!" shesaid.
"I called you no harder name than 'la belle dame sans merci,'" said I.
We crept down the stairs a true couple of runaways. The door wassecured by a wooden bar. I removed the bar, and we went out into theroad. The stables lay to the right of the inn, and leaving Ilga whereshe stood, I crossed over to them and rapped quietly at the window.The ostler let me in, and we saddled quickly Ilga's horse and mine. Igave the fellow all of my three months' savings, and bidding him goback to his bed, brought the horses into the road.
I lifted Ilga into the saddle.
"So," she said, bending over me, and her heart looked through hereyes, "the lath was steel after all, and I only found it out when thesteel cut me."
And that night we rode hand in hand to Innspruck. Once she trilled outa snatch of song, and I knew indeed that Jack Larke was waiting for meat Lukstein. For the words she sang were from an old ballad ofFroissart:
Que toutes joies et toutes honneurs Viennent d'armes et d'amours.
THE END.
* * * * * F. M. EVANS AND CO., LIMITED, PRINTERS, CRYSTAL PALACE, S.E.
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