CHAPTER XX
BAR-LEIGHTON
The face that gazed out at the driving October rain was one whoseexpression of unrelieved misery and hopelessness might well have melteda heart of flint. The wide, grey eyes had lost their languorous meltingdelight, which had been replaced by one of driven desperation. Dark,unhealthy rings had sunk their way into the young surrounding flesh.They were the rings of sleeplessness, and an ominous indication of themental attitude behind them. The oval of the cheeks had become pinchedand pale, while the drooping lips added a pathos that must have beenirresistible to a heart of human feeling.
Vita was a prisoner in the hands of men without scruple or mercy. Atleast one of them she knew could claim all and more than such wordsexpressed. Of the other she was less convinced. In fact, it was thethought that he was, perhaps, simply under the control of the otherwhich, she told herself, made sanity possible. But even so it was thevaguest, wildest hope, and only in the nature of a straw to which tocling in her desperation.
The window from which she looked out gave upon a wildly desolate scene.She was down deep, almost in the bowels of the earth, she admitted, andthe rugged sides of the chasm, clad in a garment of dark conifers andleafless branches, rose up abruptly in every direction her windowpermitted her gaze to wander.
She had no understanding of where she was. The journey had been long.It had been swift, too, under the skillful driving of Frederick vonBerger, beside whom Von Salzinger had travelled. She had a vagueunderstanding that the moon had been shining somewhere behind the carmost of the time. Therefore she had decided they were travellingwestwards. Then had come the dawn which had found them racing across awide and desolate moorland, in a gale of wind and a deluge of drivingrain, with dense mist clouds filling to overflowing sharp and narrowhollows which dropped away from the high level like bottomless pits ofmystery and dread.
There had been nobody inside the car to question but her maid,Francella, and Vita had steadfastly denied herself any form ofintercourse with the woman, under the certainty that she formed part ofthe Secret Service with which all unknowingly she had been surrounded.
Then had come a moment when her straining eyes, striving to penetratethe rain-streaming windows, had detected a distant view of a stretch ofwater. She had not been certain at first. But later she had detectedthe hazy outline of a steamboat upon it, with a long streamingsmoke-line lying behind it. So she made up her mind it was the sea.
Even this, however, gave her no real cue to her whereabouts. For amoment she thought of Dartmoor, but later on she believed that thatdesolate wilderness was well inland.
Later again, all speculation had been yielded up under the painfulinterest of the moment. They were driving along the edge of a deep,mist-laden ravine. Vita had gazed down upon it in awed contemplation.It was narrow and precipitous. Then had happened something which madeher shiver and clutch at the sides of the car. The driver had swunground a fierce hairpin bend in the road. The next moment the downwardincline made her seek support lest she should slide from her seat. In amoment the car was swallowed up in the dense white fog of the ravine.
So she had come to her prison, which she learned accidentally wascalled Bar-Leighton. Whether the name applied to the house or to thelocality she never knew. It was a big rambling mansion, deep hidden ina close surrounding of trees, nor, as far as Vita could see, was theravine occupied by any other habitation.
This was the second day of her imprisonment. It had been raining whenshe arrived. It was still raining. It looked as if it were likely tocontinue raining for a month. Vita had spent most of her time gazingout of the window. She was heart-broken and desperate.
She had no eyes for anything but the cheerless view beyond the window.Its attraction was small enough in its repellent austerity, but itrepresented freedom. It represented the life which was forbidden her.Somewhere out there beyond, miles and miles away, was the love of herlife, maybe vainly seeking her. Somewhere out there all that made forher happiness in life lay beyond her reach. Would she ever recover it?Would she ever listen to those calm tones of encouragement, andpurpose, and love again? It seemed impossible. It seemed as though theend of all things was about to be achieved for her, now that the savagehand of Prussian tyranny had been laid upon her.
The treatment meted out to her had been by no means hard so far. Sheoccupied a suite of apartments unusually handsome and spacious. Butthey led from one into the other, and all the outer doors were securelylocked. She had been handed over to a hard-faced matron of Germannationality on her arrival, nor, from that moment, had she beenpermitted sight of either of her male captors.
It was this dreadful isolation, this suspense, which affected her. Wasshe to remain here indefinitely, ignorant of her father's movements, ofall that might be happening to her lover, of the possible disaster toall those plans to which she had so completely lent herself? Thethought was maddening. It was completely unbearable. She wanted toweep, to scream. But she did neither. She sat on in a window-seat inthe splendid sitting-room, and gazed miserably out on the depressingaspect which thrust her lower and lower in the deeps of despair.
If Vita had been permitted no further sight of her captors it was notbecause they had taken their departure from the precincts of the prisonthey had prepared for her. On the contrary. With the arrival of Princevon Berger at this retreat, hidden so deeply in the remoteness of someof the wildest of the west country, the place became a hive of secretactivity. Many visitors came and went, but mostly at night. And socontrived were their movements, that never for one moment did themansion lose its appearance of neglect in the hands of an indifferentcaretaker.
Amongst those who visited the place at night was Johann Stryj, and withhim a man named Emile Heuferman. It was a far cry from Dorby toBar-Leighton, but distance seemed to have no concern for these people,who were served by cars of great speed and power. It was obvious thatFrederick von Berger's visit to England had been the cue for greatactivity in the underworld of the Secret Service, and that far-reachingpowers were in his control.
While Vita watched the desolation of rain-washed woodlands, Von Bergerwas occupied with Johann Stryj and Heuferman in a library, which hadobviously once been the pride of a previous owner of the house. VonSalzinger was in attendance, too, and, for more than two hours, it waspretty evident these four had been in close consultation on matters ofvital interest.
It was obvious, too, that Heuferman was of lesser degree than hiscompanion, Stryj, for it was to the latter Von Berger chiefly addressedhimself and from whom he extracted the information he needed. All thetalk was of Dorby, and during it the name of Farlow frequently mixeditself into the details. The manner of these men was devoid of allheat. Von Berger might have been a machine, so frigidly precise was hiswhole attitude. Johann Stryj spoke only the words necessary, with aneffect and decision which must have left nothing to be desired by hisexalted superior. Von Salzinger was reduced to a mere observer, butHeuferman became an object for the reception of explicit instructions,which, for the most part, he received with monosyllabic acquiescence.
It was in the middle of the afternoon that the meeting terminated. WhenJohann Stryj and his companion had taken their departure Frederick vonBerger turned to the silent ex-Captain-General. His eyes werespeculative. It was the cold calculation of a mind seeking to completea half-formed train of thought.
"What were your relations with this woman--before the war?"
Von Salzinger started. A flush tinted his heavy features a sort ofcopper hue.
"I--don't understand, Excellency."
That odd flicker of the eyelids which seemed to be the only indicationof a lighter mood accompanied Von Berger's next words.
"Yet it is not difficult. Information tells us that you at one timesought to marry her. Since coming to England you renewed youracquaintance. I desire the exact explanation. I may need to usethe--relationship."
The flush had left the other's cheeks. His eyes took on a smile ofmeaning.
"At one time I had
such thoughts. Now I have no desire to--marry her."
"Ah!"
Von Berger had faced round from the library table at which he wasseated, and, crossing his legs, sat contemplatively with his elbowssupported on the arms of his chair and his chin resting upon hisclasped hands.
Von Salzinger stirred.
"I regard her now as one of my country's enemies. There can be nothought of marriage with one's country's enemy. Such can never receivethe consideration we display towards our own womankind. In war thewoman is the prize of the victor. That is real war."
The callous brutality of the man was revolting. But the other gave nosign. He contented himself with a continuance of his cold regard, and afurther ejaculation.
Encouraged by this negative sign of approval Von Salzinger ventured aninterrogation.
"How can my relations with her further your plans, Excellency?"
"I am not quite sure--yet." Then Von Berger bestirred himself. "It isnecessary to lay hands on Von Hertzwohl--at once, and----"
He broke off. At that moment a knock at the door interrupted him.
Von Salzinger sprang to his feet and hurried across the room. Afterreclosing the door he returned to Von Berger.
"Vassilitz has brought this telegram. It arrived last night at RedwithyFarm. Does your Excellency wish to speak to him?"
Von Berger took the message and opened it. It was addressed to MadameVladimir at Redwithy Farm. The set of his features relaxed as he readthe brief communication. Then he passed it across to Von Salzinger.
"Much news in a few words," was his comment.
The other perused the telegram carefully. It came from Dorby--
"All's well. Arrived safely. Returning to town. Love.--Ruxton."
"It means----?"
"Von Hertzwohl has arrived in England. At Dorby. Also that he returnsto London--Farlow, I mean, and that he is obviously the lover of thewoman whom you regard as the prize of the victor. Tell Vassilitz toreturn to the farm without delay, to remain watchful, and to continueto act as instructed. I must interview the Princess."
Vita's painful contemplation and misery were rudely broken in upon.Just as the shadows of the dreary day were beginning to deepenprematurely the door of her sitting-room was silently thrust open, andFrederick von Berger made his unwelcome appearance.
He stood for one moment contemplating the beautiful drooping figurewithout the smallest sign of emotion. Then he moved forward over thepolished floor, and the sound of his approach acted like an electriccurrent upon the woman at the window. She had been caught at adisadvantage, but, in an instant, all her pride and courage rosesuperior to every other emotion. She sat up, and the haughtydispleasure in her eyes found vent in cold words which must have stungdeeply any other personality but that of their present object.
"It would be superfluous to protest at an intrusion where neitherhonesty, justice, nor a sense of decency exists. All I can hope for isthat whatever your business may be you will complete it, and relieve meof your obnoxious presence as quickly as possible."
There was a cold scorn in the simple words which was enhanced threefoldby reason of the calm with which they were delivered.
If Frederick von Berger appreciated it he gave no sign. The words mightnot have been spoken in so far as they deflected for a second thepurpose of his coming.
He came close up to the window in which Vita was sitting. His gazeavoided her and was directed towards the gloomy prospect beyond it. Hispowerful figure was carried erectly, doubtless from the severity of hisearly military training, but it possessed a litheness quite unusual, alitheness which the angular figure of Von Salzinger completely lacked.The latent strength of the man was indomitable, and under otherconditions it would have been something the woman must have admired.Now she only saw the cruelty in his hard eyes, and the absolutely coldset of the features which seemed rendered immobile thereby.
He raised one foot and rested it upon the window-seat, and, bending sothat an arm rested upon his knee, he glanced down into the averted face.
"I have come to tell you that your position has somewhat changed sinceyou became my guest here," he said, in level tones. "To my very greatregret it has been discovered that you are as deeply concerned in theplot which has cost us the secrets of Borga as those others. I havereceived a telegram, intended for you, announcing your father's arrivalin this country. The manner in which it is written conveys beyond doubtthat you are perfectly intimate with all the plans of the conspiracy,and even that one of the people most concerned is your lover. So yousee that changes the aspect of the matter so far as you are concerned."
"You have intercepted a message from Mr. Ruxton Farlow?"
Vita's face was no longer averted. All her woman's pride was outraged.To think that this creature's eyes should have read the lines whichRuxton had meant only for hers. She thought nothing of the significanceof her own position as a result of that letter. Only was the sacrilegethis man had committed apparent to her.
She believed she was dealing merely with a mechanism of Prussiantyranny. She was incapable of regarding this man as anything else. ButFrederick von Berger had calculated every word he had uttered. Humannature was a lifelong study with him--even that which he could claimfor his own.
"Exactly," he replied. "And the fact has made your position veryprecarious, very precarious indeed."
The significance of his simple statement would no longer be denied.Vita caught her breath. Her swift, upward glance in his direction hadsomething of the alarm which he desired to witness in it.
He removed his foot from the silken cushion and stood up.
"Princess," he went on, "I came to England with very stringentorders----"
"Who gives Frederick von Berger orders?" cried Vita impulsively. "Noteven the Emperor. There is only one person who gives orders to Princevon Berger in Germany--himself. It is useless to deny it. All that youhave done here--are doing--is of your own initiative."
But the man continued as though the interruption had not taken place.
"The orders I have received admit of only one course of action--thepunishment by death of the traitors to my country, and the completenullification of the effects of the plot. These things will be carriedout regardless of all cost and consequence. There will be no temperingwith mercy. Justice, cold justice alone will be meted out--regardlessof sex."
"The question of justice I doubt. The matter of sex is a foregoneconclusion. There is ample precedent for that."
The bitterness of the woman's words came from her heart. She knew thathe was threatening that her life was forfeit, but the fact seemed toleave her untouched since that first swift glance of apprehension.
"The point is not one which I care to debate," the man returned, withhis curious, simple directness. "It is not for me to possess an opinionon any matter where authority or the conduct of the State is concerned.I can only assure you that duty will be carried out inexorably. For youthe position becomes deplorable. For you to have committed yourself tointrigues which have for their purpose the betrayal of your country isan outrage which calls for no mercy. You will have to face a penaltysimilar to that which awaits your father. That penalty is--death."
"Death!"
The echo came in a whisper. It was a startled whisper, as though Vita'sbrain were striving to grasp the full significance of the word asapplied to herself. Her eyes were no longer on the man's face. Theywere contemplating the scene beyond the window without observing it.
Then, slowly, a change came over her. Her body seemed to draw itselferect. The scorn that had lain in her eyes a few minutes ago had givenplace to a curious cold calm. Her shapely lips compressed tightly, andshe faced unflinchingly the man who had pronounced the sentence. Hereyes regarded him for some thoughtful moments. It almost seemed asthough she were striving to probe beneath that cold mask to thethoughts and emotions which she felt must lie behind it. Then a curioussmile grew in them, a smile of renewed contempt that must have beeninsupportable to a man of any feeling.
&nb
sp; "And the alternative? I suppose there is an alternative. A deathsentence so pronounced is generally inspired by an all-importantalternative. Do you desire me to betray my friends? Do you desire me tohand my father over to execution? Do you desire me to tell you wherethe secrets you desire to recover are bestowed? Do you desire me toassist you to restore to your country the cruel means with which youhope to crush the heart of humanity some time in the future? Let mehear it all, the whole depth to which you desire to force me todescend. I have always wondered at the possible profundity to which thePrussian mind can descend in its lack of human understanding. Well,Prince, you had better say all you have to say now. For after this Ishall claim the privilege of every condemned person to pass out of theworld in peace." Then her contemptuous smile deepened. "But perhaps Iam to be denied that privilege. Perhaps there is no such privilege inthe Prussian code. Perhaps I am to be placed upon the rack, andtortured until I confess. I feel it would only be a fitting outcome ofthe Kultur to which your countrymen have risen. I am waiting to hearanything further you have to say."
It would have been impossible to tell from the man's attitude theeffect of these words. Not a muscle of his features stirred. His regardremained coldly contemplative.
"There is no alternative," he said. "Your crime admits of none. Weplace no value upon any information you could give us. Our means areperfect for obtaining it ourselves. To prove it I can assure you ofthings which perhaps you do not know yourself. The plans which yourfriends stole are even now in the yards at Dorby in Yorkshire. Theconstruction of submersible vessels is going on under Admiraltysupervision and protection, a matter carefully arranged by your lover,Ruxton Farlow. Your father is at Dorby, and his private submersible ismoored in an inner dock at Farlow, Son and Farlow's yards. These areall facts you may be aware of, but there are others which you certainlyare not. One of them is that these constructions are about to bedestroyed by explosion, and the plans too. Later on there will befurther developments. As for the torture you suggest, that, too, isunnecessary. I have yet to learn of a greater torture which a young,rich, and beautiful woman can endure than the thought of being tornfrom the arms of the hero whom she has foolishly permitted herself toworship. There can be nothing more painful to her than to contemplatein her last moments the happiness which she is denied being enjoyed bysome other woman when her own penalty has been paid. My reasoning isonly a man's, but----"
"A devil's!"
Vita's calm had deserted her. Horror and loathing struggled for placein her wide shining eyes.
The man looked on unmoved.
"As you will, Princess," he said, with that curious flicker of theeyelids. "But now, since I have completed the business of my visit, Iwill relieve you of my obnoxious presence. When the time comes you willbe given half an hour to prepare yourself for the execution of yoursentence."
He moved away. The shadows of the room swallowed him up. Then, a momentlater, Vita heard the door close behind him.