Hear it not, ye stars! And thou, pale moon, turn paler at the sound! —Young: Night Thoughts.
It was still daylight when I recovered consciousness. The setting sun was just dipping below the western horizon, and the cathedral light of the forest of Zin was slowly changing with lengthening shadows to the darkness of the coming night. Save for the whir of some heavy bird, flying to roost or the cry of a number of crows far overhead, there was no sound.
The gay coloured ribbons of the boar spear, lying among the dead leaves, brought me back to a slight realization of my position. I abruptly tried to rise. But, when I attempted to move, the trees began to glide around like giant feathers in a motionless atmosphere, and I became aware of an aching head and burning pain in the back. I lay quiet examining the branches overhead.
A little red squirrel, frightened by my sudden movement, leaped from the ground near by and clattered up the trunk of the nearest tree, being careful to put the tree between me and him in his flight. He reappeared high up among the branches, where he rested ready to run, watching me curiously. Was that the trunk of a fallen tree or a man? He concluded that I was an enemy and awoke the echoes with his chattering warning cry, in which there was something of rage. When I again struggled weakly to arise, he fell silent, hid behind a crotch and, from his safe retreat, watched with one little prick ear and one little round eye cautiously exposed.
This time I managed to get to my knees, although the world swayed before my eyes. A spring bubbled coolly among the leaves near-by. I dragged myself to it and, like the rejected soldiers of Joshua, drank with my nose in the water. Greatly refreshed, I rolled over on my back and again tried to think. The little watchman in the tree shifted his position so as to bring his one little eye to bear again. My head was becoming clearer.
Let me see, what had happened to me? Somebody or something had struck me on the head. I put my hand to my aching brow and found my hair matted with dried blood. There was a bad cut just above my forehead. How had I been so injured? Had the swordsman reached me? The swordsman with the long black cloak and the Greek cross upon his breast—what had he done. Ah, yes, I knew. With a rush the whole picture came back.
Solonika had been stolen by the Order of the Cross!
It must have happened only a moment ago. My enemy still fronted me and might even now be waiting to continue, or rather begin, the fight. I came to a sudden sitting posture, but the woods were deserted. The rider had long since made good his escape. My own animal, too, was gone and I wondered if he could find his way back to Framkor stables and give warning of my predicament.
But of what use would that be to Solonika, if, as I strongly suspected, General Palmora and Nicholas were in the plot. True, they might rescue me from the dangers of the forest, but they would not help me rescue the Prince.
Not so fast. Perhaps I might be doing my two friends an injustice in thus accusing them. After all, the men I had seen might be highwaymen. A highwayman's calling in all Balkan countries, I knew, was an ancient and an honourable one, because he never robs his own countrymen but preys upon the inhabitants of border states; also because he is a well-trained rider and a valuable cavalryman in time of war—which in this section of eastern Europe is nearly all the time. But, if the Prince's captors were highwaymen after a rich bounty from the government for the return of the future king on the eve of the coronation, they were the most gentlemanly brigands that ever sat astride a horse. The highwaymen idea was not tenable. Even in Catholic countries, robbers do not go about with large Greek crosses of gold suspended from their necks. The words of the General came back to me.
"The oath of the Duke of Marbosa. Only three days are left."
Three days to the coronation, that was it. The oath of Marbosa? Perhaps the Duke had sworn that Prince Raoul should never be king. Oh, why had I not paid closer attention to the politics of this infernal country? I would know then what this meant; I would not be compelled to guess. Surely politics was behind the kidnapping of the Prince. It was evident, too, that the movement did not have the active support of my two friends, although the General and Nicholas might be forced by stress of circumstances passively to acquiesce. But what did the Order of the Cross hope to gain thereby? It was possible that they were counting upon the feeling of resentment which the populace would naturally feel if the Prince failed to appear at the Cathedral. An insult like that might go far toward changing the succession at the last moment. If that were so, the Order of the Cross, or some of its members at least, were not pleased with the son of the Red Fox as the next ruler. It would necessarily follow that they had another favourite.
The General was not enthusiastic over the heir of Dhalmatia, but he did not seem to have an interest in this affair. If my conclusions were sound, Palmora would have led the men who did it. Evidently they were not sound. Besides, I had never heard him speak of a possible successor of the Prince and, if there had been one, I ought to have heard of it.
Whatever was in the wind, I felt much relieved. If, as I suspected, the Prince was in the hands of the nobles, he had nothing to fear from personal insult. But I trembled to think of his position if his captors learned the truth concerning his sex.
Growing darkness warned me that I must think of my own safety. My position in the wild forest of Zin was fraught with danger. With returning strength, I gathered up my useless boar spear, my only weapon of defence and, going forward, examined the ground where I had last seen the Prince. Here I found the hoof marks of the four horses, galloping side by side, plainly visible, leading off toward the west. It was an easy trail to follow. I recalled that the greatest length of the forest was from the north to the south. If one wished to leave the woods, the quickest course would be to the east or west.
A strong wind forced its way through the tree tops with a moaning sound. Its cold blast chilled me as it blew in my face; its voice was like the voice of a lost soul, wandering forever through the gloom around me. The sun dipped below the trees. If I would follow after the Princess I must hurry, for the light would soon be gone. Mile after mile I walked and ran, keeping my eyes on the ground, bending lower and lower as the darkness fell. Finally I could see the hoof marks no longer.
How I rebelled against my fate. How I cursed the night, and how it seemed to answer with its thousand voices, reiterating the one awful word "Lost." Oh, the wasted hours I had lain unconscious in the woods while Marbosa's men were carrying their prize farther and farther away. Crushed and hopeless though I was, I would not give up. There must be some way to follow the trail even in the dark. But how? How?
I raised my head and looked about. Interminable forest surrounded me on all sides. Nothing but giant oaks met my limited view on every side. To my heightened imagination they seemed to stretch their crooked arms as if to crush me in their bony embrace.
Again the wind went sweeping through the branches and one clear high voice of the night seemed to say "Behold, I am the way. Follow thou me." The wind it must have been, but how was it to help me? Then hope returned for I knew it was a west wind. The trail I longed to follow had never altered from its western course. The wind came from the same direction. There was the solution. If I followed the course of the wind, if I kept it always in my face, I would be able to hold to the trail even in the dark. I shouted aloud for joy at the discovery.
But my progress was distressingly slow. As I went on and on, it became so dark that I was forced to come down to a cautious walk, swinging my boar spear before me, like a blind man on a crowded thoroughfare, to keep from walking into the trunks of the silent trees.
Often through the night I lay down to rest and once I slept, but each time I took the trail I held my moistened finger to the breeze to get my bearings. During one of these enforced rests I built a small fire of dried leaves and ignited a torch of pine wood to help me on my way. After a little searching by means of its feeble light, I made out the fresh marks of the trail on the ground and knew that the west wind held to its course. My tread was as silent as the animals that glared at my camp-fire. I frightened them away with a shower of burning embers. My head ached and my limbs became heavy with a weariness that caused me to rest longer each time I halted.
Once I struck a match and found that it was only eleven o'clock. I had been vainly hoping for daylight and the time went so slowly. How far I had gone I had no means of knowing. But, shortly after I looked at my watch, the moon, great and round and white, came up and shed its soft light through the trees. The sight of it brought me up with a shiver.
The moon was in front of me!
A moon rising in the west I knew was an impossibility! If this were the moon, then by all the laws of nature I must now be facing the east. The east! Was it possible that I had been following the wrong trail? Had the wind, while I blindly yielded to its invisible touch, been veering gently to the south and finally to the east? In that case I had been walking in a half circle and must now be somewhere near my starting point. All my weary walking had gone for nothing. Solonika and Marbosa's men were as far away as ever.
My despair overcame me and my knees gave way beneath me. I sank gently to the ground with a half articulate moan, like a drowning swimmer who feels his strength deserting him.
What was that I heard? Was my mind leaving me under the fearful strain? Surely that sound was not the sound of voices? I listened distraught. There it was again, and this time there was no mistaking it. Close beside me somewhere men were talking and laughing! Then high above all I distinguished one voice singing. And I knew that voice. It acted upon my tired body like the electric waves from a galvanic battery. There could be no mistake. Through the Forest of Zin, mingling with the tinkle of a piano, came the voice of Solonika singing the words of Mohacs' Field.
"Volt nekem egy daru szoru paripam, De el adta a szegedi kapitany; Ott sem voltam az aldo mas i vas nal; No, de sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"
I listened spellbound to the entire verse and heard at the end a chorus of fifty or more male voices join boisterously in the refrain; "No, de sa baj, tobb is veszett Mohacsnal!"
There was no doubt about it; I had found her. Thanks to blind chance and my own perseverance I had stumbled upon the hiding place of the Secret Order of the Cross. It gave me new life to know that she was so near me. A few steps further forward, and another of my difficulties was solved. I found myself under a high stone wall which surrounded the hunting lodge of the Duke of Marbosa. The round white "moon" that had filled me with consternation was a circular window set in the end wall of the lodge. There must be lights in the lower casements, but the only one I had seen over the high wall was this single rose window.
I walked slowly around the wall, seeking an entrance. After a time I came to the main gate. It was made of iron grating and afforded a view of the interior. The lodge was a great stone house, standing in the middle of a clearing within an enclosure. In the rear were the stables. Not a soul was within sight and the gate was locked. Close beside it, however, was a smaller gate which was used as a foot passage. It yielded readily to my hand, opening inward. Fearing the silent presence of a guard I moved the door back slowly, and finally gave it a push as if it were disturbed by the wind. There was no movement. I crept noiselessly through the opening and closed the door so that my figure might not be outlined from the house.
Black shadows of men passed to and fro across the lighted windows, behind closed blinds, like shadowgraphs in a theatre. The singing continued and I frequently heard Solonika's voice. I crept close to the house and cautiously tried the front door; it was locked. Searching for some way to effect an entrance, I skirted the building, keeping close to the stones, and found a door in the rear. It also was locked. I examined each window as I passed; they were covered from top to bottom with heavy wrought-iron screens. The lodge was as tight as a prison house.
I turned my attention next to the roof. Perhaps there was a means of entrance in that direction. Close beside the lodge grew a great oak tree. All its forest neighbours had been cut down when the place was built. Its wide branches overhung the roof. Even though I failed to find a trap-door there, I would be safer in the branches than on the ground in case the Duke had his dogs in the stable. I quietly swung myself up by means of a low-hanging limb, and drew the telltale spear after me.
As my head came clear of the coping I saw the roof was somewhat flat and that a small watch-tower stood in the centre of it. It was composed of nothing but windows. One branch of the tree, which had threatened to grow through the tower, had been sawed off close to the windows. The limb made a natural strong bridge for me, and I could have shouted when I tried the nearest frame and found it slide quietly up under my hand. I was soon standing safely on the floor of the tower.
Feeling in the dark with my feet, I discovered a steep uncarpeted stairway leading down into the house below. The door at the other end was unlocked. As I opened this door the sound of singing and laughing came faintly to my ears. The Duke's men were enjoying themselves with the utmost abandon. Passing down another stairway I came to another door and found myself in a richly carpeted bed room. The bed was empty. I struck a match and saw two doors on the same side of the room. One communicated with another bed room and I tried the other. As I opened it, the noise of shouting and laughing was suddenly almost deafening. Heavy fumes of tobacco smoke and hot much-breathed air filled my nostrils, almost choking me.
I stepped softly out on to a dimly lighted balcony upon which twenty or thirty bed rooms, similar to the one I had just left, found exit. One swift step to the railing and I was looking down upon the Duke's men.
The main room of the lodge was a hunter's paradise. All around the balcony railing over which I leaned hung at regular intervals handsomely mounted heads of bears, wolves, boars, deer and other animals from the forest of Zin. At the end of the room where there was no balcony, under the circular window which had been my "moon," was a mounted lion about to attack two crouching tigers, trophies of the Duke's expeditions to India and Africa. Lying at full length on the lion's back, with his arms loosely around the neck of the animal, was a young trooper fast asleep.
The head and antlers of a large deer, suspended from the balcony in front of me, obscured my vision of the centre of the room below. But it also protected me from any one who might look my way. As I moved cautiously aside for a better view, I saw a long table spread with a white cloth, upon which were the remains of a feast. Standing in the centre of the table among the scattered dishes was the Prince with a sword upraised in his hand. He was singing at the top of his sweet voice that seventeenth century profanation "Down among the Dead Men."
The Duke's men, evidently in the "heigh-li heigh-lo" stage of a merry evening, were giving the Prince their undivided attention. They entered into the spirit of the song and were doing their best to reproduce the pose of the picture I had seen in Solonika's summer-house. One of their number, with his black coat collar turned up, was flattened against a pillar which supported the balcony. An expression of mock fright was upon his face. The rest of the ribald jesters were threatening him with drawn swords. A goodly number were lying on the floor, as if they had refused the toast and had suffered the consequences. But they were in excess of the number required for a faithful reproduction of the picture and I suspected that many of them were there because of the empty bottles.
As I looked around the room I understood why the Duke of Marbosa had not stationed guards at his gates to see that the Prince did not escape. The main door which I had found locked was under the balcony opposite the wall in which was the circular window. If the Prince attempted to flee that way, he would have to do it in full view of every one in the room. Two broad stairways, one on each side of the hall, led up to the balcony and to the bed rooms beyond. Escape in this direction was impossible on account of the wrought-iron screens. But I knew if I could communicate with the Prince, he would be able to leave the lodge with me in the same manner I had entered it.
Once outside, unless we were tracked with dogs, the forest would hide us while we made our way back on foot to Dhalmatia. We could travel by night and hide, like the Babes in the Woods, under a covering of leaves in the daytime if necessary. I remembered that, while I had heard the horses pawing in their stalls, no dog barked and the recollection cheered me. If only I could attract the Prince's attention.
But, even if I did make him see me, how was I to let him know how to escape? I must write him a note and get it into his hands somehow. Searching my pockets I found a small piece of paper and a lead pencil. I rested the paper on the top of the railing and indited my first letter to Solonika. It read:
"Ninth room on south side; stairway to attic; stairway to watch tower on roof. Come.
"DALE."
I knew if I permitted the sheet to flutter to the room below, it would be seen and read by unfriendly eyes. I must have some way of weighting it so that I could throw it where I willed. I examined every pocket carefully and went through the search three times but failed to find anything which would answer the purpose. The only thing I considered was my penknife. I might roll the note up and slip it beneath one of the blades. But my better judgment told me it would not do. The noise of the knife's fall would attract attention.
I was almost in despair when my hand came in contact with the diamond ring which I wore upon my little finger. It was the very thing. I could roll the note up into a small wad and insert it in the ring. That would give it the required bulk and weight, and my message would not be seen as it flew through the air. Then too the tinkle of a ring upon the stone pavement would not be heard above all the noise of the revellers. Quickly I drew the circlet from my finger and fastened the wad of paper securely within. Then with some impatience I awaited my opportunity.
A loud knocking upon the main entrance created the diversion I craved. So loud and unexpected was the call from the outside world that the noise within was instantly stilled and every man arose and drew his sword. All eyes were turned toward the door but no one moved to open it. Who could have found the lonely lodge in the forest at this time of night? Could the Red Fox of Dhalmatia, already apprised of his son's capture, be here with his retainers seeking vengeance?
One of the men nearest the door shouted a question and a voice outside replied demanding admission. A busy hum of conversation began to fly about the hall and the Duke's followers crowded around the door. The Prince alone remained in his place. He stood apart in the centre of the room almost directly below me.
Now was the moment to act. I stood upright and leaned far out over the railing in full view of any who might be watching. Taking careful aim, I tossed the message toward him. The glistening gold circled gently to its fall and struck fairly in the centre of the empty cup which he held upright in his hand. The Prince gave a little cry of astonishment and looked over the rim of the goblet. The ring, with its note attached, lay within. Knowing from which direction it must have come, and realizing that it fell from the hand of a friend, he looked quickly up into the balcony. Our eyes met.
Solonika recognized me as I leaned out into the light. The smile which illuminated her face more than recompensed me for the night of terror I had passed through for her sake. No one else in the room saw the incident. So far we were safe.
I was just congratulating myself on my cleverness when I heard a bed room door open close behind me somewhere on the balcony. I dropped to my knees for shelter and crouched in the dim light. An elderly man stepped from a front room over the main entrance. Something in his dignified manner told me that it was the Duke of Marbosa. He had heard the knocking and had come forth to inquire into the cause.
If he descended by means of the stairway on my side, he could scarcely fail to discover me. Either stairway was open to him. I lay flat on my stomach and waited with a beating heart. A fight was useless, for, even though I escaped, I must leave the Prince behind.
The noise in the room below increased in volume. The visitors without were impatient at the delay.