Page 24 of A Dash for a Throne


  CHAPTER XXIII

  THE PURSUIT

  "Will you cease to resist if my men leave you?" asked the officer afterI had been quiet some time.

  "Yes, but I shall hold you responsible for the consequences of thisdetention of me, and they may be heavy and serious," I replied.

  "I am only acting under orders," was his answer, and he signed to themen to withdraw again. "I am sorry you have compelled me to resort toforce. It was not my wish."

  "How long will Major Gessler be?"

  "It is impossible to say. He may return in five minutes or in fivehours; I can have no idea."

  "He knew that I was coming?"

  "Obviously, for I was told to expect you, and detain you when youarrived."

  "Told to lay a trap for me, you mean?"

  He made no reply.

  "Did your instructions include the unwarrantable attack I heard beingmade upon my companion?"

  "My instructions were to detain you, and I must really leave allexplanations to my superior."

  "Then I wish you'd leave the room as well," I retorted curtly, and, tomy surprise, he took me at my word, and went out immediately, giving acommand, in a tone loud enough to reach me, that the men stationedoutside the door were to remain there.

  As soon as I was alone I resolved to escape by the window. I got up andstole softly to it. It was shuttered, but the fastenings were on theinside, and as I tried them gently and slowly I found they were easy torelease. But I knew the men outside the door would be on the alert, andthat the least noise I made would bring them in.

  I sat down again, therefore, and began to make a noisy clatter with someof the furniture. I banged the door of the big stove, upset a couple ofchairs, and threw down some things from the table. As I stooped to pickthem up one of the men put his head in at the door.

  "Well, what the devil do you want?" I cried, with an angry scowl.

  "I thought you called, sir," he answered.

  "That's a ready lie, my man. You came because you heard a noise. Thatwas the noise," and I picked up a chair and threw it across the room atthe door. "Just hand it back, will you?"

  He picked it up and placed it near the door, and went out, and I heardhim mutter something to his companion about my being a "queer sort."

  I slipped to the window then, and, not being afraid of making a noise, Iunfastened the shutters to find the catch of the window, and was in theact of undoing that when I heard steps approaching the door across thehall. In a moment I replaced the shutters, slipped back to my chair, andwas yawning heavily when the door was opened and the officer came in.

  "They report to me that you have been making some disturbance here," hesaid shortly. "I will, therefore, leave a man in the room with you."

  I cursed the clumsiness of my ruse, which had thus frustrated the chanceof my escape.

  "I decline to submit to such an indignity, sir," I said angrily. "I willhave no jailer here."

  But my protest, like everything else with this wooden idiot, passedunheeded, and one of the men was told to stand by the door inside.

  For a moment I was in despair. My first thought was to try and bribehim, but I abandoned the idea as readily, for I saw that if I failed hewould report the attempt to the officer, and I should be in a worseplight than ever. Yet the thought that time was flying, and von Nauheimgetting farther and farther away with Minna, while I was condemned tothis helpless inactivity, was like hell to me. Then a last and desperatescheme suggested itself to me. The room was lighted by an oil lamp, andmy thought was to try and extinguish it, and escape in the consequentconfusion and darkness. I knew now that in a moment I could open thewindow.

  Keeping up my character for eccentricity, I jumped to my feet sosuddenly that the man started and grasped his weapon, and, declaringthat I was cold--though the evening was stifling, and my rage made me ashot as a fever patient--I began to stamp up and down the room, takingcare at first to keep well away from the window, lest he should suspectmy object. Next I declared that the lamp smelt vilely, and I set it downnear the stove, and opened the little door that the fumes might escapeup the flue. My next step was to whip the cover off the table, and throwit around my shoulders.

  The man kept his eyes steadily on me, obviously regarding me as morethan half insane, but he made no attempt to interfere with me, and Icontinued my monotonous march backward and forward, backward andforward, until I noticed that his vigilant watch was gradually beingrelaxed. Then I altered my direction slightly, until each turn took menearer and nearer to the window, and at last I prepared to make myeffort.

  "Turn that lamp down a bit, it stinks," I said, with a vigorous grimaceof disgust, and, without in the least suspecting my intention, he wentto do it.

  For a moment his back was toward me, and at that instant I snatched thecloth from my shoulders and threw it with all my force at the lamp,enveloping both it and the man as he was bending over it to do as I hadrequested.

  He shouted lustily for help, but there were a few seconds of darknessbefore any one could reach me, and I tore back the shutters, opened thewindow, leapt out, and dashed away through the darkness at top speed,running in zigzag fashion for the cover of some shrubbery about fiftyyards distant.

  Before I reached the cover I heard the sounds of great commotion in thehouse, and a number of men started out in pursuit of me, but I plungedthrough the bushes at as great a speed as possible. The noise I madewould, I knew, render pursuit an easy matter, and thus when I gained asmall clearing I changed my direction, and raced across the lawn, takingmy chance of where I was going. Fortune favored me, and I came upon aboundary wall, over which I climbed, dropping breathless and excited,but free, into a deep, dry ditch by the side of a lane. I lay down toregain my breath and to listen for any further signs of pursuit, as wellas to think out my next step. I had escaped, but what use to make of myfreedom I could not for a moment tell.

  Presently I heard the sound of a horse cantering on the turf by theside of the lane, and looking up cautiously I saw, by the light of themoon, which was shining brilliantly, a man riding toward me. As he camecloser I recognized, to my infinite pleasure, that it was the Corsican,Praga. I scrambled out of the ditch and stood up to wait for him,calling to him when he was some twenty yards away. He reined up andjumped from his horse. I told him my experiences with that dolt of anofficer in the house, and he told me he was just riding back to see whathad become of me, and that he had news.

  "It is great news," he said. "When they tried to get at me, I gallopedoff, and in the village I stumbled against an old Munich acquaintance,who is here over this business, and was just coming back from a start hehad made with Major Gessler. He told me something of what had happenedhere to-day. It seems that that brute von Nauheim got wind thatsomething was going to happen which he didn't like--I suppose it wasyour coming--and he bolted with the Countess Minna and her aunt. At thatGessler seems to have thought treachery was in the wind, and that youwere in some way connected with it--these officers are always fools,especially when some one tells them about half the truth--and he set outafter the runaways, and left orders that if you did come you were to bekept. I was coming back to try if I couldn't find you, and perhaps getyou out of the house, so that we might start in pursuit on our ownaccount."

  "Where has von Nauheim gone? Does any one know?" I asked.

  "Yes, the major is on their track, I think. They are supposed to havetaken the south road, von Nauheim's object being apparently to strikethe railway when some miles out, and presumably get out of Bavaria assoon as possible."

  "I have no horse," I said. "You had better give me yours, and then tryto get one and follow me as soon as you can. I am on fire. I cannotwait."

  "It's not much of a beast, and very tired, but it may serve till you canget a better," said Praga. "Make for Waal first, and then try to findsome traces, and leave word for me where I am to follow. I think I canfind your horse. He followed me out of the place, and I tethered him upsomewhere about here."

  I mounted, an
d after a few more hurried words from him about thedirection to be taken I clapped my heels into the horse's ribs, and setoff at a pace that was as near a gallop as the tired brute couldimitate. The clattering of the beast's hoofs on the rough, uneven roadwoke the echoes around me as I dashed forward, filled with the oneconsuming thought of rescuing Minna from the hands of the dastard whohad carried her off from me.

  I found to my dismay, however, that my horse was quite incapable of anygreat effort, and soon began to show signs of fatigue. I had to ease himconstantly, and after a few miles I could not urge him beyond a ratherslow trot. To get another horse appeared difficult, and I did not passany place that even offered a hope of one. My progress was thusirritatingly slow, and every mile I covered seemed to detract from,rather than add to, the chances of my overtaking von Nauheim.

  I had no difficulty, however, in tracing the fugitives. Major Gessler,in company with three other men, had passed scarcely two hours ahead ofme, and as they had made inquiries all along the route, they had left abroad trail easy enough for me to follow. If they were on the righttrack it was certain that I was.

  After riding for a couple of hours at this slow pace I saw a mile or twoahead of me the lights of a small town, and, in the hope of being ableto get a fresh mount there, I urged on my shambling steed to the utmostof his powers. But he was quite used up, and as I was forcing him down aslight hill I felt him stagger and stumble under me; and then down hewent in a heap, throwing me clear of him. I could not afford to wastetime over him, and as soon as I had managed to drag him to his feet Itied his head to a tree by the wayside, and set out to finish theremaining distance to the town on foot.

  I had not walked more than a few hundred yards, however, when Idiscovered that the fall from the horse had shaken me considerably. Iturned dizzy, and reeled and staggered as I walked. I kept on as long asI could, but at last, despite my burning impatience to get forward, Iwas compelled to sit down by the roadside and rest until the feelingpassed off.

  How long I sat there I do not know, but I think that for a short time Imust have lost consciousness. The rest refreshed me, however, and,feeling almost myself again, I jumped to my feet quickly, eager toresume my journey.

  As I did so I was startled by a low cry, like an exclamation of fear,from some one close to me; and by the moon's light I made out the darklydressed figure of a woman some twenty or thirty paces ahead. I had beensitting in the shadow of an overhanging tree, and, no doubt, my suddenappearance had frightened her.

  She stood looking at me irresolutely, and when I commenced to walktoward her she turned and sped away on the grass by the roadsidenoiselessly, in the hope, no doubt, that I had not seen her. Obviouslyshe wished to avoid me.

  She was nothing to me, and as I had no wish to add to her fright, I lether go, and merely watched her as she ran. I had no other feeling butcuriosity, tempered with regret that all unwittingly I had been themeans of frightening her. She had nearly passed out of sight when Iheard her cry out again, this time a louder and shriller cry, and Ithought I saw her trip and fall. I went after her then, as quickly as Icould, and found her kneeling on the ground moaning, with her hands toher head.

  "Are you hurt?" I asked. "I am afraid I frightened you. I trust----"

  I stopped in amazement, for she turned her face quickly to me, and thenext instant I was down by her side with my arm round her. It was Minnaherself.

  "Oh, Hans, is it really you? I am so frightened. Save me." And withoutanother word she let her head sink on my shoulder, while she twined herarms round me in quite hysterical fear.

  "Hush, my child. You are safe now," I said gently, in the soothing toneone might use to a child who had hurt itself.

  And I held her in my arms in silence, my heart too full for words, as,indeed, hers was, with mingled fear, relief, and agitation.

  "Where are you hurt, Minna?" I asked after a time. "Let's see if Icannot help you."

  "Don't leave me; pray don't leave me," she whispered, clinging to memore tightly than ever. "I shall be better in a moment--now I am safe. Iwas running away from you. I was frightened when you jumped up suddenlyin the road, and I fell and hurt my head. Don't leave me. I want torealize that I am really, really safe."

  "Don't doubt that. None can hurt you now."

  I would have added many a passionate protestation in my excitement, butI checked myself, remembering all I had yet to tell her. I let a longerinterval pass before I spoke again; for, though I was burning withimpatience to learn how she came to be in this way alone on the road andto take means to get her to some place of safety, I could not resist thethrilling delight of feeling her arms about me and her head nestlingconfidingly against my breast. The mere touch of her was an ecstasy ofpassion.

  "Let me see to your hurt, Minna," I whispered. "We have a long journeybefore us."

  At that she started, and began to tremble again, and said, her lipsfaltering as the words fell from them:

  "I had forgotten. I had forgotten everything when I felt your armsaround me; but he will follow us. We must hurry on. Where can I go toescape him?"

  "You mean von Nauheim?" I asked, my face frowning at thought of him.

  "Oh, there is so much to tell and to ask. What does it all mean, Hans? Iam not much hurt. It is here," and she put her hand to her forehead,which was bleeding slightly. "I struck it against a stone when I trippedand fell, I think. And to think I was running from you, of all theworld!"

  I could not answer the tenderness of her tone or the love that breathedin every syllable of the words. If I had tried, the passion that waspent in me must have come rushing out. I sought to affect indifference,therefore; and though my fingers trembled as I touched her face, and myheart ached at the sight of the little wound, I dressed it in silence,and bound it up with my handkerchief.

  She smiled to me several times as I did this, and when I had finishedshe murmured, lifting her eyes to mine:

  "It will soon be well, now you have touched it, cousin." And she sighed.But the next instant she started, and a look of fear showed on her face."I can hear the sounds of a horse at full gallop. I have been hearingnothing else in imagination for the last two hours; but this time it isreal."

  She spoke very wildly.

  I listened intently, but could hear nothing.

  "It is only imagination still," I replied. "And if it were real, itwould mean nothing."

  "Listen!" and she put up her finger and strained her ears.

  She was right. She had caught the sound before me; but now I coulddistinguish the beat of hoofs in the far distance.

  "I hear it now. Which way is the sound from?" I asked.

  She began to tremble, and clung to me again.

  "It is from that way," pointing in the direction from which I had come.

  I listened again, and again found she was right.

  "Good!" I exclaimed. "It will be Praga. He is following me."

  "Praga! The villain who killed Gustav! Oh, Hans, it is true then thatyou are in league with that terrible man. I would not believe it whenthey told me." And she moved away from me as she spoke, and stood at alittle distance, trembling.

  But it was only for an instant. I had not time to reply before she cameagain to my side and clung to me as before, crying with quick agitation:

  "I did not mean that, cousin Hans. I did not mean anything in distrustof you. I trust you altogether with my whole heart and soul. If he iswith you, I know it will be not that you help him to do harm, but thathe helps you to do good. I know that. Believe and forgive me forshrinking away like that. But I have always had such a dread andloathing at his mere name, for dear Gustav's sake. Oh, there is so muchto be made clear."

  "It will all be clear enough to you when I have told you my story," Isaid in as unmoved a tone as I could command at this fresh proof of herabsolute confidence. "And that will be as soon as we can get out of ourpresent plight. Even Praga has been wronged, and in this matter at leasthe is with us."

  After that we stood in silence listening
to the now fast approachinggallop of the horse.

  Then came to our ears the whinnying of another horse. The gallopingstopped. The horse was pulled up short.

  "What does that mean?" asked Minna in a whisper of alarm; for all soundsbreathed the language of danger in her present agitation.

  "I left my horse tied to the hedge some distance behind there, and Pragahas found it, I expect."

  Almost directly after that Minna started again and cried:

  "There is another horseman coming from the opposite direction. That willbe the Count von Nauheim."

  "It is luck that Praga is close at hand, then," said I, "for I have noarms. It will be a dramatic meeting."

  And now Minna was pressing close to my side again; and in this way westood and listened to the more distant horseman's approach, and heardalso the man I judged to be Praga bring his animal back on to the hardroad and set off at a sharp trot toward us.