CHAPTER XXVIII
THE WEEK-END
Prince von Hertzwohl gazed about him. His tall figure was bowed. He wasno longer clad in the working costume which had been his disguise forso many days in Dorby. His lean face was shaded beneath a wide,soft-brimmed hat which entirely concealed that wonderful forehead whichhad so impressed Ruxton. But the shaven cheeks added years to his age.Beneath his chin were displayed those fleshy cords which do not belongto anything up to the middle life. He certainly looked older than everin the foreign-designed clothes which he was now wearing.
The cold breath of the moor swept by him, it penetrated the lightishovercoat he was wearing. Once or twice he shivered as he gazed this wayand that, searching the already hazy sky-line for a sign of anymovement.
For some time he seemed in doubt. Then at last he drew in towards theblack shelter of the old mill, which stood out in the grey light,keeping its ancient watch over the cove below. He glanced within itsshadowed interior. It was inhospitable. But it was as he had alwaysknown it. Everything was undisturbed. He drew his coat about him andbuttoned it up. The air was so keen, and he had little relish for it.Presently he sat down upon a fallen timber under the shelter of thewall. He must wait. Nothing could be done until the arrival he wasexpecting.
It was a desolate spot, and the influence of it was not unfelt. But thesolitude was not altogether unappreciated. If there were eyes watchingthey failed to make their presence felt, and he was glad. He lit acigar and sought comfort in it from the bleak northern air. Histhoughtful eyes wandered in every direction his shelter permitted. Tothe east, across the sea. To the south, over the rolling moor. To thewest, where the dying light of day was melting steadily before the greyobscurity of coming night.
The minutes passed slowly, slowly, as they ever pass to the anxiousmind. But the dark of evening gathered with all the rapidity of earlywinter.
The long journey was drawing to its close. Long since, the great NorthRoad had been left behind. Now the powerful car swept along, with itsmonotonous purr, over the winding coast road, which split thewide-spreading moorland, and headed on in the teeth of the bitternortheasterly breeze.
The chill penetrated to the snug interior of the car. Vita was forcedto draw the heavy overcoat more closely about her. She shivered, but itwas not with the actual cold. Her thoughts were a-riot. They were fullof an intense and painful dread.
She had made the journey north in the company of the man whom she knewshe was now condemned to marry--condemned beyond reprieve. The onlygleam of light which had struggled through the darkness of her despairwas that he had spared her his company in the car. He had dismissed thedriver of the car at Bath, and taken upon himself that duty. Thus Vitahad been spared an added torture to the desperate feelings assailingher.
She had no thought of revolt. She felt that destiny loomed before herin overwhelming force. Escape had no place in her thought. She hadentered into a contract. A sordid contract, she felt. A contract whichhad perhaps been forced upon her, but which had been accepted by herthrough an invincible desire to be permitted to drag out the wearyyears of life, rather than face bravely the harsh consequences andpenalties of truth and loyalty to the demands of honor. She admittedthe dreadful cowardice which had driven her, and a wave of loathing forherself left her crushed under a burden of bitter contempt.
But during the journey, in communion with her own wretched thoughts,she had searched the future as only vivid imagination permitted, andthe picture she had discovered was perhaps a thousandfold more dreadfulthan her earlier anticipations. Panic had urged her in the first place.But now the original panic which had driven her into her contract hadpassed, leaving her only the skeleton, which, in the first place, hadbeen clothed in the brilliant flesh and raiment inspired by theyearning for life. To think of the right she had given that square,fleshy figure sitting before her beyond the glass partition of the car!The right to control her destiny; to be always near her, to--caressher. And all the while another image lay treasured in her heart,another voice was always in her ears, another hand lay in hers, andother lips---- It was beyond endurance--the thought. To think that waylay madness. Her eyes grew haggard with dry tears. She was left beyondordinary emotion. She could only stir restlessly, with brain heatedalmost to fever by the pressure of dreadful thought.
So the miles had been devoured by the senseless, softly droning wheels.Merciless wheels they became. Nothing could stop them, nothing coulddeter the progress towards that maelstrom of horror in the direction ofwhich she was gliding.
Then came the familiar breath of the Yorkshire moorlands. Sheremembered it. She remembered every aspect of the scene about her. Itwas not possible for it to be otherwise. She writhed under the lash ofmemory. Was it not here she had first looked down upon the prone figureand upward-glancing dark eyes of Ruxton Farlow? Was it not here she hadpoured out to him the vaunting story of her desires to serve humanity?Had she not witnessed the light of sympathy leap into his eyeshere--here, at the passionate profession she had made to him? Andnow--oh, the pity of it!--the miserable, cowardly sequel to all herprotestations.
The grey of evening filled the car, and somehow Vita was glad of it.She felt she could hide her worthless self beneath it. The moorlandscene faded, and the great dark gorse banks merged into one blackeningworld. Then, directly ahead, the aged landmark of the skeleton millrose sharply out of the dusk.
Her pulses quickened. The journey was at its end. Her father would bethere awaiting her, and she must face those wide, understanding eyes asshe told him the story of her cowardly yielding. She shrank furtherinto the corner. She knew the fearless spirit of the man, and shedreaded his contempt. The secret of her contract with the man drivingthe car was still her own, but, in a few minutes, it must be revealedto one whose contempt would deal the final crushing blow.
She nerved herself as the car drew up. Then, with ashen lips andfrightened eyes, she became aware of a tall, lean figure standing outagainst the sky-line.
She waited for no assistance. She flung the door wide, and, in amoment, she was enfolded in her father's embrace.
But she dared not yield to the joy of reunion. She freed herself, andbegan to talk. Not a moment must be lost in telling him her story, thestory of all the dread and horror she had lived through. She knew shedared not risk delay, or her last vestige of courage would vanish intothin air.
She poured out the story of the machinations, in the toils of whichthey had been caught. She told him the story of the jeopardy in whichhe stood; of the power which had been transferred from Berlin to bringabout his final destruction. She told him of the death sentence whichhad been passed upon her by the terrible Von Berger, and how, in thelast moment of her despair, succor had been proffered in the lastquarter from which it could have reasonably been expected. And thencame the story of her pledge.
To the long story the old man listened with the closest attention. Hegave no sign, he offered no interruption. At its conclusion Vitapaused, breathlessly awaiting the verdict in the man's luminous eyes.She watched them. She searched them, seeking that faint spark whichmight hold out the smallest hope. She was living for that alone--now.
The Prince stood for a moment, his eyes gazing past her at the sides ofthe travel-stained car. Then one long thin hand went up to hisforehead, and his soft hat was thrust back on his head. The handpressed down upon his brows and moved across them, as though brushingaside some sense of weariness. His eyes shifted their gaze towards theman standing near the car. They took in the square, burly figure fromthe crown of its hat to the soles of its feet. Then they came back toVita, and the smile in them suggested a final sympathetic decisionoverriding the natural antagonistic feelings towards the man whom helooked upon as his enemy.
"Where is he--Von Salzinger?" he demanded.
Vita caught her breath. It was the crisis.
"Here, father. He drove the car."
The Prince's eyes again sought the man. Then he spoke, and the tone ofhis voice eased the woman's tension.
r /> "You have done me a service, Herr von Salzinger. A service I couldhardly have looked for. It is to be paid for, I understand, and theprice is high. However, the risks you have taken, the sacrifices youhave made are doubtless great, from your point of view. Therefore I canonly--thank you. Come. The vessel should be lying off by this time.What will you do with the car?"
Von Salzinger stepped forward. The night was dark, and it wasimpossible to observe the expression of his face.
"The car can remain. It is--not mine."
The Prince inclined his head.
"Then we will go down to the cove. Vita!"
At the gentle tone of his voice the woman moved at once to his side.Whatever his innermost thoughts and feeling's, he had conveyed to hertroubled heart the assurance of his perfect love and sympathy.
A man stood in the steel doorway of the clumsy tower which supported apair of periscopes. The vessel was an early type of submarine. It wascrude in finish and severe in fashion. Its flush deck was narrow, and amere rail protected its sides.
His attention seemed divided between a group of men in oilskins engagedin launching a motor pinnace, and the movements of a war-craft standingoff some distance astern.
Night was closing upon an oily sea, which lolled in listless fashionbeneath the starry sheen of a now almost windless evening. Thethreatened "northeaster" which had been developing all the afternoonhad suddenly died out under the influence of a sharp frost. There was acertain satisfaction in the luck of the weather. This man knew quitewell what he might have been called upon to face on the bitternortheast coast of Britain.
The stone-grey eyes of the man were no less keen than the bitter air.Nor were they less watchful than the peeping stars already beginning tostud the sky. The rest of his face was lost in the folds of a woollenscarf, which was in turn enveloped in the high collar of his overcoat.
There was the sound of footsteps behind him coming up the steelcompanion, and in a moment he was joined by a man in oilskins. Thelatter were carelessly adjusted about the neck, and from beneath thempeeped the details of a uniform which was foreign to the coast offwhich the vessel was lying.
The newcomer joined in the survey of the war-craft's dim outlineagainst the horizon.
"She's not there by chance, Excellency," he said warningly, in the deepguttural of the Teutonic language.
For some moments the other made no reply. His eyes were upon the men atwork. The boat was launched, and the engine was being started.
"No," he said at last. Then his eyes came sharply to the other's face."You have had to take big chances in your time. You've got to take agreater chance now. This is not war."
"No, Excellency. This is peace." The man laughed deep-throatedly.
"That is why the warship does not matter. She will not break the peace,and we are beyond the home-water limit. We are free to do as we please."
"And yet she is watching us. It interests me what she intends. TheseBritish naval men are a different race from those ashore. They will doas they think, in spite of--peace."
"Yes." There was a speculative look in the stone-grey eyes.
Finally he gave his whole attention to the men on the deck. He seemedto have put all speculation aside.
"Von Hertzwohl's submersible will soon be along now. We shall see herlights. She will carry lights. She must do so for the shore boat. Youhave your orders."
"Yes, Excellency. When you have left in this boat the other will beprepared. I shall take a party and board Hertzwohl's vessel, and makemyself master of it. Meanwhile, this vessel will lie off with lightsout, standing by in case of accidents to pick you up. If all goes wellyou will return from shore and come aboard Von Hertzwohl's vessel.Instantly she will submerge and lay a course for Heligoland Bight. Itis clear, and should be simple."
"It should be simple. Hertzwohl's vessel _must_ go back with us. Shehas the U-rays lamp on her." The grey eyes were turned questioningly inthe direction where the war-vessel had been lying. The darkness hadbecome such that its outline was scarcely visible. Then he went on."This vessel will follow us to the Bight. Ha!" He thrust out a pointinghand. "The lights. Red. Green. White." He turned again, and his eyeswere hard and stern in the light of the conning-tower. "Make nomistakes. Your orders to--the letter."
"Yes, Excellency."
Both men moved off down the gently swaying deck towards the break inthe rail where the pinnace, with its complement of four men, waswaiting. The man with the stone-grey eyes leapt into the boat. The nextmoment its crew had cast off, and its head had been swung roundshorewards in response to the race of its powerful motor.
Suddenly a great beam of light shot athwart the sky. It lowered slowly,and, a moment later, it fell upon the submarine, on the deck of which anumber of men had replaced those which had just left. For a moment theofficer in charge of them looked up, and his eyes were caught in thedazzle of the blinding light. Then the light was raised and swept awaylandwards. It described a great arc and fell upon the shore. A momentlater it was withdrawn. Again it settled upon the submarine.
The officer waited for it to pass. A look of deep anxiety began to fillhis eyes. He was thinking of his orders, and of the man who had giventhem. But the light remained focussed full upon his deck, and presentlyit dawned upon him that the warship was steaming, steaming slowly andalmost noiselessly towards him. A feeling of impotence took hold ofhim. He thought of his torpedo tubes, but the thought passed, thrustaside with an impatient remembrance that it was peace and--not war. Hisimpotence grew. He could only stand there helpless and stupid.
The great vessel came on slowly, slowly. Soon its outline became clear,even in the darkness. The silent threat became unnerving. The officerordered his men to desist from their work. The vessel drew abreast.Then she hove-to. But the terrible glare of the searchlight remainedfull upon the long, narrow deck upon which the officer stood.
His eyes sought for a sign. But the blinding light held him. He couldsee nothing. Just a shadowy, sombre hull. The great guns were notvisible to him in the painful light.
There was no alternative. He turned to the conning-tower, and his menwere sent below. The next moment the engines were at work, and thevessel submerged. Minutes later a swirl of water a quarter of a miledistant, and a great bulk rose to the surface out of the watery depths.The steel door of the conning-tower opened again, and the officerlooked out. The beam of light from the war-vessel was gliding over thelolling surface of the water. It was moving towards him slowly, asthough searching carefully. Again his vessel was caught in its silveryshaft. Again it held. Again the great vessel began to move towards him.
With a bitter oath the officer turned back into the conning-tower andslammed to the heavy steel door.
Vita and her father were standing at the water's edge. A pace or twobehind them stood Von Salzinger. None of the three seemed inclined forspeech. Von Hertzwohl was gazing out at the narrow opening to the opensea beyond. His thoughts were busy with the unexpected phenomenon hebeheld.
A searchlight was playing over the water, moving at intervals, then itwould become stationary. The vessel from which it emanated was a longway out, yet its light hovered persistently, as though its wholepurpose was riveted upon the definite area which lay in full view fromwhere he stood.
Vita, too, was gazing out to sea. But though the play of the lightscaught and held her attention, they had no power to sway the trend ofteeming thoughts which were passing through her brain. The things shebeheld meant nothing to her. They could mean nothing. These were herlast moments on the land she loved--the land which was the home of theman who had changed her life from a troubled and anxious existence to adream of bliss such as she had believed impossible. She had soldherself at the price of life. Life? She had gone back again toexistence a thousand times more dreadful than the worst nightmare couldhave conjured. Yes, her father was safe, her beloved father. All theirplans would be the safer for their going. She would be free to witness,in due regularity, the progress of future seasons. She had done herduty, a
nd her best. But oh, what a best!
There were moments as she stood there waiting when she could have flungher arms out and screamed till the echoes of the cove rang again. Therewere moments when she could have flung herself upon the angular figureshe knew and felt to be standing behind her, and impotently torn at hishated flesh. He was her master, her future arbiter, the man to whosecaresses she must submit.
Quite suddenly her father raised one thin, pointing hand.
"The boat," he said. And Vita's thoughts were swept aside for themoment, and her comprehending gaze became fixed upon a dim objectsweeping through the jaws of the cove. The darkness of the place madeit impossible to distinguish its outline. It was a shadow, a mereshadow against the moving lights beyond.
Once it was past the jaws, however, the throb of its engine beatagainst the rocky walls and echoed again. It was as though half-a-dozenengines were thrashing the water. Now, too, a headlight shone out.
Suddenly Von Hertzwohl caught up the lighted lantern at his feet.
"Ach!" he cried. "The madmen! They are heading here--for this light.One would think they had never made the spit before." He turned."Quick. The spit, or they will drive on the rocks."
He ran along the beach, followed by Vita and Von Salzinger. In a fewmoments he was standing on the extremity of the rocky spit, waving hislantern and calling instructions.
"Gott in Himmel!" he cried. "Slow, slow. You will break on sunkenrocks. Are you mad? This way. Ach! Slower, slower. So. Easy. Bring hernose round. So. Easy. Now!"
The old man stooped, and, with Von Salzinger, assisted in fending offthe pinnace. Vita had taken up the lantern. She was holding it to makethe most of its feeble rays. Then of a sudden a sharp exclamation brokefrom the Prince.
"Four!"
He had counted the men in the boat. Vita heard the exclamation withoutgathering its significance. A man leapt out of the stern of the boat,and another followed him. The light of the lantern fell full upon theleader's face. A cry broke from the woman, an inarticulate cry. Itbrought her father to his feet.
Then, swiftly and terribly, was enacted a scene unforgettable to thosewho beheld it. The wide, fearless eyes of the princely Pole gazed withloathing and hate into the stone-grey eyes of the man who had leaptfirst from the boat. It was only for one paralyzed moment. Then aharsh, furious voice ejaculated a name, and Vita's lantern clattered asit fell upon the rocky spit, and went out as it rolled into the lappingwater.
"Von Berger!"
It was Von Hertzwohl's voice; and as he spoke he stepped back from thehated proximity. Once, once only his wide eyes swept over the variousfigures about him. Then, with a lightning movement, one long arm wasflung out. There was no word spoken. There was no mercy in either heartof the antagonists. The penetrating crack of an automatic pistol aloneawoke the echoes. They were flung from rock to rock, and, blending withthem, came the sound of running feet.
But long before the echoes had reached their climax a second shot rangout--a heavier shot; and as it split the air Von Hertzwohl fell. Hisknees gave under him, and his tall figure toppled almost into the armsof the man who had fired the shot with such deliberate, deadly effect.To this sound was added swift movement. Vita, standing paralyzed withterror, was seized from behind, and the heavy breath of Von Salzingerfanned the back of her neck. She was supported bodily, and, in aninstant, the swaying boat caught her struggling body with brutal force,and for her all sensation abruptly terminated. Then came Von Berger'svoice in sharp command, as the shouts of men aroused new echoes in theblack arena.
"Quick! Take him! Now cast off!"
The arms of men reached up and caught the inanimate body of VonHertzwohl. It was dropped urgently into the bottom of the boat. Then,to the accompaniment of scrambling feet, the boat was vigorouslypropelled backwards into the ebbing tide.
The headlight was extinguished, and the boat vanished like a ghost intothe blackness of the gaping cove.
A moment later the racing engine pulsated with a confusion of echoes,and a group of men stood at the water's edge searching for thedirection in which the speeding craft was moving. It was hopeless.
Then came a voice--the authoritative voice of a leader.
"Don't fire. Not a shot. You can't be certain who you'll hit. Theywon't get far."