CHAPTER XXVII
THE WEEK-END BEGINS
Vita stood up. The swift rise and fall of her bosom bespoke an emotionwhich found added reflection in the light of her beautiful grey eyes.Her attitude was tense. It was full of that suggestion of urgency whichstraining ears ever convey. She was listening. And every muscle of herfair body was tuned to the pitch of her nerves.
Her eyes were upon the face of a small brass lantern clock. The figureson the dial were indistinct in the artificial light, but she read themwith ease under the influence of the emotion stirring her. The dullmetal hands were almost together. It was on the stroke of half-past six.
Her masses of red-gold hair were completely hidden under a brimlesshat, which sank low upon her head. A streaming veil fell to hershoulders, completely covering her hat, and ready to be secured closelyabout the fair oval of her anxious face. Her costume was a stout darkcoat and skirt which displayed to perfection the beauty of her tallfigure. Across the back of a chair lay a heavy overcoat ofsemi-military fashioning. It was thick and warm. It was a man's coat.
The moments ticked away. Vita made no movement. The room was still; adeathly silence reigned throughout the house. And yet, to the waitingwoman, a hundred ominous sounds blended with the solemn ticking of theclock. The long hand was within the smallest fraction of the half-hourpoint. At last she raised one long gloved hand, and the slim fingerswere pressed to the temples hidden under the enveloping hat. Her handwas trembling.
When she removed her fingers it was with a gesture of impatience. Andthe gesture was followed by swift movement. She seized the overcoat andflung it across her arm, picked up a small hand-bag and moved towardsthe door. Again she paused. Her hand was on the knob of the door. Sheturned it softly and gently pulled the door ajar. Her eyes sought thecrack.
Lights were burning beyond in the wide hallway. All was still, silent;and a deep sigh as of relaxing nerves escaped her. She opened the doorwider. It creaked, and her fine brows drew together in anxiety. Thenthey smoothed again as the creaking ceased. Almost imperceptibly theopening widened. Then, in a twinkling it seemed, she had vanished, andthe room was left empty.
As she went a door opened at the far end of the room she had left, anda woman's dark face appeared round it. For a moment she surveyed theempty apartment. Then she smiled softly. A moment later the face waswithdrawn and the door reclosed.
A creaking stair set panic raging through Vita's heart. The greatstaircase was old--so old. She stood, scarcely daring to breathe,wondering in what direction the betrayal would display itself. Themoments passed and no sign was given. She moved again, and, in a feverof apprehension, she left the step and essayed another.
This time there was no alarm. She passed on down the stairs, swiftly,stealthily. Only the dainty rustle of her skirts betrayed hermovements. This she gave no heed to. It was always with her. Thereforeit possessed no significance. The bottom of the great oak staircase wasreached. Her breathing was hurried, not with exertion, but as a resultof the nervous tension. She was relying on a man's word--a Prussian's.She believed it honest, but---- A swift glance about the widehall-place, and, for a moment, her nerves eased. The man was proving asgood as his word. The doors into the various apartments were closed.The hall was empty.
Fresh courage flowed through her veins. She tiptoed across the polishedmarble, avoiding the loose rugs lest a slip might betray her. Then, inthe centre of it, she stopped dead, her heart pounding out the alarmwhich had suddenly possessed her. Voices, men's voices, had reachedher. And they came from immediately beyond a pair of heavy foldingdoors. She listened. The sound was slightly deadened. The doors made itimpossible to hear the words.
Quite suddenly she realized that there was not a moment to lose.Without any further hesitation she flitted like a ghost, silently,towards the glass swing-doors which opened upon the entrance doors.
She thrust them apart. She passed down half a dozen wide, shallowsteps. The outer doors yielded to her hand. Then she breathed thefresh, chill night air of the valley beyond. It was good, so good. Itwas the first breath of freedom. Deeply, deeply, she drank in thedelight of it.
As the door swung gently to behind her, the folding doors of theapartment in which had sounded the men's voices were thrust apart. VonSalzinger and Johann Stryj stood framed in the archway.
"See, there is movement in the glass doors," observed Von Salzinger."She has gone."
"I heard her," was the Secret Service man's cool reply.
Vita had paused only to put on the coat. Then, with skirts slightlyraised, she sped on down the drive at something approaching a run. Itwas not easy in the pitch black of the night. But fear of pursuit lenther added power, and, surmounting every difficulty, she reached theiron gateway.
She breathed a great relief. The gates were standing open, and, awaybeyond, and to the right, she beheld the reflection of light upon theroadway.
She hurried towards it. An overwhelming flood of gratitude andthankfulness swept over her. Von Salzinger was proving his loyalty.Every detail was working out as he had promised. Liberty and Life. Theywere sweet enough. And even the price lost something of its horrorunder her new emotion.
The car was a large one. It carried three great headlights. Thechauffeur was at his wheel, and the purr of the running engines wasmusic to her ears. The door stood wide open, and, without demur,without word, or a single qualm of fear, she stepped within and closedit after her. Instantly the car rolled away.
A figure moved from the dark window of the unlit lodge. It crossed thelittle room and stood against the wall. Then a groping hand pressed abutton, and in the great hall of the mansion the peal of an electricbell rang out.
The week-end party had gathered. Saturday had been spent by the threeprincipal guests under Ruxton and his father's guidance at the yards.But Ruxton had been an unimportant member of the party for the moment.Here in the great works Sir Andrew stood supreme. His was the chiefcontrol. His was the genius of organization. And to him these men, SirJoseph Caistor, Sir Reginald Steele, and the Marquis of Lordburgh,looked for their information upon the new constructions.
It had been a day to remember for Sir Andrew. These brilliant technicalmen were exacting. Their trained, searching minds displayed a wonderfulgrasp of detail. There seemed to be no point too small for theirconsideration. Thus the day had to be entirely given up to them. Nordid Sir Andrew begrudge it. He was a great shipmaster, and his pride inhis yards, and all they meant in the country's labors, found him withan almost childlike delight in his guests' interest and understanding.
Ruxton stood aloof. His thoughts and energies were concentratedelsewhere. Frequently he absented himself for long stretches of timetogether. Nor was it until their naval guests had satisfied theirdesire to study the new constructions that he became a factor in theday's affairs.
It was after the drive back to Dorby Towers that he slipped into thearena of affairs. It occurred while tea was served in the library. Hedrew Sir Joseph Caistor and Sir Reginald away from the rest of theparty, and held a long private consultation with them.
The result of the consultation was the complete disappearance of Ruxtonbefore dinner. He came into his father's room while the old man was inthe midst of dressing.
"They've met me in everything, Dad, and now I'm off," he announced.
The abruptness of his announcement and the unceremonious fashion of hisvisit caused his father to pause in the act of adjusting his tie. Heglanced up into the dark eyes. He needed no added scrutiny. Ruxton'seyes were shining with suppressed excitement. The smile in them wasconfident, and the set of his jaws told of a determination that wasalmost aggressive.
"When shall we see you again, boy?"
There was a gleam of anxiety in the deep-set eyes. But there was nosuggestion of deterring him.
Ruxton shrugged.
"I can't tell. You see, it will depend entirely on circumstances."
"Yes."
His father returned to his attack on his tie. Then he smiled.
/> "It was a master stroke having the two heads of the Admiralty on thepremises, also our Foreign Secretary. You left nothing to chance,Ruxton."
"Nothing but the chances of the right or wrong of my beliefs."
The old man sighed as his tie went straight.
"Your imagination is beyond me. I could never have seen these things asyou see them. I am anxious for you."
"Don't trouble about me. Be anxious if you will, but let that anxietybe for the woman I love, and whom I hope even after this to present toyou as your daughter. If she is safe, then--for me nothing elsematters. I have done all that is humanly possible, at least which ispossible to me. The rest is in the lap of the gods. Wish me luck, Dad,and good-bye."
He held out his hand. In a moment it was enveloped in both of hisfather's.
"With all my heart, lad. Good-bye. You will win out, I'm sure."
Then he turned again to his dressing-table and picked up hishair-brushes. He attacked his crisply curling white hair with almostunnecessary violence while his eyes watched the retreating figure ofhis only son in the reflection of the mirror.
Sunday dawned with a clouded, watery sky. All the morning the threat ofrain held. Then, at lunch-time, a wind sprang out of the northeast, andthe atmosphere grew dry and crisp, and the clouds lightened. The greyNorth Sea changed its hue to a lighter green, and at long intervalswhitecaps broke up the oily aspect. The breeze had freshened by threeo'clock and a chill swept over the moorlands, and the feel and aspectof winter settled upon the dull-tinted landscape. As evening began toclose in the breeze dropped, and with it fell the temperature.
Two figures paced the winding footpath at the edge of the cliffs. Bothwere clad in heavy civilian ulsters, and their coat-collars shelteredthe lower portions of their clean-shaven faces. In their shaded eyeswas that far-off gaze which is only to be found in the eyes of men ofthe sea. It is an expression which must ever betray the man who belongsto the sea the moment he approaches that element, which is at once hisfriend and his bitterest foe.
Sir Reginald Steele paused and pointed out at the already darkeninghorizon.
"What a target," he cried. "Look at her, with her absurdly proud andvaunting four funnels. Look at the great upstanding chest like somevain pouter-pigeon. Man, give me an armored submarine, with a brace ofheavy guns on it, and wirelessly controlled torpedoes, and I'd--sinkher cold. I'd sink her before she got my range. I'd sink her while shefumbled amongst her cumbersome armaments."
He laughed the merry laugh of a man who wishes to probe the open woundof disagreement between two close friends.
"You're welcome to the submarine, Reggie. I'll take the 'pouter' everytime. I'll give you a dozen shots with your wireless controlled as astart, and your pop-guns can amuse themselves indefinitely. She's ahandsome craft. Town class, isn't she? She'd make you hate it in spiteof your steel-clad hide."
Both men were smiling pleasantly as they watched the distant cruisersteaming slowly and sedately upon the wintry waters. The challenge hadbeen replied to, and neither of the men seemed inclined to carry thedebate further. Admiral Sir Reginald Steele had hurled every argumentin favor of his submarine beliefs at the head of his friend and chief,during official hours, and they had agreed to differ. Now, in friendlyintercourse, he was ready to add his pin-pricks, but he knew there wasnothing important to be gained.
"The Farlows are smart men," he observed presently, obviously followingout his train of thought aloud. "The old man is something unusual inthe way of a shipmaster. One doesn't associate these shipping princeswith real understanding of naval force. But once or twice yesterday Ithought there were things he could teach me."
"Yes."
Sir Joseph was intent upon the movements of the cruiser. She haddisplayed no lights and the dusk was creeping on.
"I suppose it is the old man who is the genius of Dorby. What aboutyoung Ruxton? Harborough is keen on him. So is Lordburgh. I confess toa weakness that way myself. That was a great stroke of his, getting thesecrets of that place in the Baltic. Apparently there's some one alsowho shares your faith in--underwater."
Sir Reginald had become absorbed in the horizon. He produced a pair ofglasses and peered out in the gathering gloom.
"All far-seeing people do. These Farlows for instance," he replied."What's that beyond the cruiser? She's low in the water."
Sir Joseph produced glasses. For some silent minutes they remainedscouring the sea with eyes long trained to the work. Finally it was SirJoseph who spoke.
"You should recognize it," he said.
"Yes. Underwater, and--a foreigner."
They relapsed into a long silence. The stars came out and a light frostwas settling upon the moor. The air was brilliantly clear. Theirglasses revealed the two distant objects.
"She's hove-to," observed Sir Reginald later on.
"The cruiser--yes. That's a mistake."
Sir Joseph made a sound of impatience with his tongue.
Again a prolonged silence fell. Both men were absorbed. The passage oftime seemed of no consequence. The cold of the night seemed to concernthem not at all.
"I don't know," Steele said much later, in answer to his chief'sremark. "You can't tell what's doing from here. Nor what arrangementsyoung Farlow has made. Ah!"
"Lights." Sir Joseph waited.
"Green astern. White ahead. Red amidships. The foreigner has shed apinnace. It's coming ashore. It's getting interesting. That boy seemedpretty clear. I hope things are all right."
The boat was racing towards the shore at a point to the right of thetwo watchers. Sir Reginald was following it closely with his nightglasses. The other continued his survey of the vessels beyond.
Presently he spoke.
"She's steaming again--the cruiser."
"Yes." The other's glasses were raised towards the horizon again.
"She's covered the foreigner's lights." Sir Joseph lowered his glasses."What's the time?"
His companion lowered his glasses. He glanced at his watch.
"Nearly half-past six," he said significantly. Then in a moment hisglasses were levelled at a point much nearer into land. "Ah, here shecomes," he said, in his quick way. "Now the play begins. The curtain'sgoing up. No lights. A good many regulations are being broken to-night.Shall we need an enquiry into it, Chief?" Sir Reginald laughed. "Well,Lordburgh is to blame if any trouble occurs. He forced us to lend ourpowerful aid in this thing. The odds are on that boy Ruxton. I'd bet myhopes of pension on it. He's keen and confident. Such romance nevercame our way, eh? I haven't heard before of units of the British Navybeing used to secure a man a wife."
Sir Joseph laughed shortly.
"There's a good deal more than a woman in this. According to Lordburghthis trifling naval episode may secure the person of Germany's strongman--criminally engaged. It would be worth while. Sparling's a goodman. If they pull it off it'll be his best day's work. Hello!"
At that moment a great white beam of light shot athwart the sky. Itmoved swiftly and rigidly. It swept in a great arc and settled on theface of the cliff away to their right.
"Look. Three lights just below us." Sir Reginald pointed out upon thewater. "Green astern. White ahead. Red amidships. It isn't theforeigner from outside. It's----"
"Hark!" Sir Joseph held up a warning hand.
The two men listened acutely. Far away, remote but distinct, the soundof a pistol-shot reached them.
"That's the second," said Sir Joseph. "Come along, let's go and seewhat's happening."