"Marbosa! Marbosa!" shouted several voices at once. A score of young men ascended both stairways to summon the Grand Duke. As I glanced along the carpet I could see the heads of the leaders appear above the level of the floor and I gave myself up for lost. There was no time now to hide myself in the nearest bed room without being seen. The danger, coming so suddenly, found me unprepared. My only chance of safety lay in remaining quiet. Perhaps in the dim light, if they did not stumble over me, they might pass by, too occupied with their errand to notice a recumbent figure on the floor. There was also the chance that they might mistake me for a tired reveller.
But, just when the tension was at the breaking point, I heard the Duke's voice. Judging from the sound, for I could not see him, he had stepped to the edge of the balcony, where the light fell upon his face, for the men paused on the stairs and stood looking at one particular spot. They shouted their message across the intervening space and, receiving a satisfactory reply, turned back, retracing their steps to the common room. I still heard the Grand Duke talking to some one who had reached the balcony by the other stairway. I followed the sound and was overjoyed to find that Marbosa was walking toward his companion and that the two would descend by the other stair. The danger of my immediate discovery was over, and I breathed a prayer of thankfulness to the lucky chance which had protected me.
As the Duke joined his men, I arose to my feet to steal another look below. The Prince had not moved far from the spot where I last saw him. The empty goblet was standing on the table and he was busy reading the note concealed in his hands. Would he understand it and be able to find a way to reach the watch-tower unnoticed? I watched him read and re-read my message, and saw him tear the paper to fragments and carelessly throw them into the fire. Then he glanced at the excited company to see if he were observed. Finding he was not, he looked quickly up into my glowing face, nodded his head to signify that all was clear and smilingly slipped my ring on his finger.
While this episode was going forward, the Duke had reached the front entrance and given orders to unbar the door. The heavy irons rattled loudly against the stone floor while the nobles made way for the visitors to enter. The door was immediately closed with a bang and the bars reset. Following the Grand Duke, with whom they were earnestly talking, two men stepped into the light and I could scarcely believe my eyes when I saw them. They were the General and Nicholas.
What they hoped to accomplish by their visit I could not imagine. But it was evident that they were regarded in the light of friends. Several young men slapped Nicholas on the shoulder, greeting him with affection. The rest gathered around the General and the black-bearded Grand Duke, and listened with great respect to their conversation.
The General was tired and worn. He was not pleased with the turn of events and I judged he was not hesitating in expressing his opinion. The Bharbazonian jargon ran back and forth, for the General had met his match in the Duke. That distinguished personage was not moved by the hot words of his fiery friend. He gave as good as he received, and remained firm in his intention. The argument bade fair to consume the rest of the night. As soon as Nick saw how it was going, he quietly disengaged himself from the circle and sought out the Prince. That brought him close under the balcony where I was hiding and I was pleased to hear him speak English that the company might not readily understand.
"I am glad to see that no harm has been done Your Highness," he said.
But the Prince pretended to ignore him.
"I wish to assure you, Prince, that the General and I are in no way responsible for this high-handed affair," he continued.
I felt like hugging him for his good news, but the Prince was not so generous.
"Your friends," he said pointedly, "were most happy to see you."
Nicholas bowed, accepting the situation.
"The majority must rule," he replied.
"The Grand Duke Marbosa seems to be in command here."
"He has carried out his plan against the wish of the General."
"What does he hope to win thereby? What does he intend to do with me?" asked the Prince. I listened eagerly so as not to miss a word.
"He hopes to keep you hidden until after the coronation. He feels that your absence from the Cathedral will be taken as an insult by the people. Thus would he set public opinion against you."
"To what end? Is there another he would have reign in my stead?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Grand Duke Novgorod."
"Novgorod? Who is he? I have never heard of him before."
"Nor I, either," said Nick; "but Marbosa has been secretly working in the interest of this man for years. The nobles are with Marbosa to a man. He seems to be sure of his grounds. From what I can learn this proposed new ruler is the only living descendant of the royal house of Bharbazonia which was thought to have been exterminated by the Turks. Oloff Gregory is only a soldier and your house, as you know, is not royal. Many influential persons in the kingdom believe that this Novgorod should be restored to power. Had you not been born he would have come back to his throne without this revolution which is threatened."
"Strange," said the Prince, thoughtfully, "my father never knew of the existence of this man."
"All the old men of the country seem to know it," said Nick.
"He seemed to think that Bharbazonia would be without a king if I did not continue," as if thinking aloud.
"Dhalmatia knows," said Nick positively. He did not notice the troubled frown on the Prince's face; neither did he guess, as I did, the feelings of distrust he was stirring up. Here was an added burden to carry; the throne by right of heredity belonged to another. The Red Fox, fearful for his son's peace of mind, had kept this important piece of information to himself.
"We just left him," said Nick.
"Who, father?"
"Yes. For the first time in his life he visited Framkor Castle and, almost on his knees, begged the General to tell him what we had done with you. I never saw a man so moved. He actually wept."
"Poor father."
"He was well-nigh distracted. His visit was the first intimation the General had that Marbosa had carried out his intention. I imagined that Dr. Wharton and you had ridden home to Dhalmatia after you became separated from us at the hunt, and rode home after you. I arrived there just as the Red Fox came to the door. He became like a crazy man when we told him we could not help him. I had to forcibly restrain him to prevent him from doing the General harm. He seemed very much afraid of me. When he left, alternately pleading with us and cursing at us, we set out for the lodge, knowing you must be here."
"What will father do? Will he not think of the lodge also?"
"No; he fancies the Order has stolen you. He is more likely to go first to its headquarters at the Turk's Head Inn. He is in touch with the underground and said he had been expecting this."
"He did. He refused to permit me to hunt yesterday. Begged me not to go, when I would not submit. How I wish he had been more frank and told me why. But he was ever afraid of frightening me."
Yesterday? The Prince referred to the hunt as if it were long past. Surely he meant to say "to-day." I looked at my watch. The hands pointed to ten minutes of four. It would soon be growing daylight and the coronation was now only one day distant. The Prince was right; it was Wednesday, December 30. The New Year fell on Friday. There was no time to be lost.
"If the General's arguments with Marbosa prevail, we may take you back with us," said Nick. "In that case you will not object to spreading the rumour that you were lost in the Forest of Zin all night. But I have little hope." He shook his head doubtfully as he listened to the high voices of the two elders deep in their discussion.
"Can nothing be done?" suggested the Prince.
"There will be the devil to pay in Nischon to-day. Your father will inform the King and his friends. The entire Alliance party will arm themselves and take the road. There will be bloodshed and civil war."
"That disaster may be prevented," said the Prince.
"How?"
"If I should escape."
Nick's eager expression of interest altered itself into a smile. He detected a hint in the Prince's words. I alone caught the meaning.
"Believe me, Your Highness, I can do nothing. I admit that I dislike this method of fighting, but I cannot be traitor to my comrades. As an illustrious patriot once said, 'We must hang together now, or we shall hang separately later.' In fact, sir, if I should see you making off, I would feel it my duty to stop you though it cost me my life."
"I admire your loyalty," said the Prince. "How does my sister bear up under this trial?"
"I have not seen her," Nick replied. "But I shall take the liberty of calling upon her when I return and assure her of your safety."
"Do so. I wish you would."
I found myself smiling at the difficulties which would prevent Nick from keeping his word. Then I heard my name mentioned.
"What have they done with Dale? I don't see him anywhere."
"They may have killed him," said the Prince, smiling into my eyes over Nick's shoulder. "I last saw him following me through the trees. He saw your friends carry me off, for I heard him shout. But they did not bring him in with me. I infer that he is either dead or lost out there in the jungle."
"Great heavens!" he exclaimed. "I must find out about this. They would not harm him, I know. He is only lost. I must make up a party to find him."
He moved away toward the group.
"Good night," the Prince called after him. "If they ask for me say that I have retired."
While Nick hurried to the General to tell him of my supposed plight, Solonika, leisurely and boldly, came up the stairway to my side. She trailed her hand idly along the railing as she mounted the steps, but I knew that she was watching for some sign of disapproval from the company. They heeded her not and in a moment she stood beside me and placed her hand trustingly in mine.
The time for action had arrived. Neither she nor I spoke a word until we had ascended the two flights of steps and come to the tower on the roof. The first blush of the new day was showing itself behind the trees of the Forest of Zin. The early morning birds were still silent in their nests. It was dark enough for our purpose.
"Can you do it?" I asked as I crept into the branches and helped her up. It was a dizzy height over the sloping roof to the ground and I knew that few girls would dare attempt such a perilous climb.
It seemed easy for Solonika. Unhampered by skirts, she moved quickly and silently. No matter how rapidly I descended, she was always close behind urging me forward. Once on the ground, I lifted her tenderly out of the branches because I wished to avoid the noise she might make jumping without knowing the distance and—well, because.
The never-ceasing murmur of voices in the lodge room told us that the Prince had not been missed. We ran swiftly over the grass and had gained the protection of the wall on our way to the little gate, when the door of the lodge opened, sending a broad stream of light down the pathway. By that cruel fate which runs through the lives of all of us when Mother Nature uses even love to encompass our destruction, we were in danger of losing our new-found freedom before it was fairly won.
Nicholas, bent on rescuing me from the forest, rushed out of the open door, followed by a number of Marbosa's men. By that time he must have learned from the lone horseman of the blow I had received and the subsequent fall from my horse. As far as his knowledge went, I was lying dead in the forest; or, if the blow had not killed me, I was wandering about dazed and bleeding, lost. Although I appreciated his kindly motive, I would have loved him none the less if he had delayed one moment longer.
We crouched against the wall fearing to move. While the men, laughing and talking, rolled around the corner of the lodge in the direction of the stables, Nicholas stood in the light on the steps, looking so steadily at me that I thought he must see. But his eyes were not yet used to the gloom and he was turning something over in his mind. He was aroused from his deliberations by the bang of the door as it was shut behind him, the iron bars rattling into place. Following his friends he, too, disappeared around the lodge corner.
"Quick," I whispered to Solonika, "now is our chance. The little portal is unlocked."
We slipped quickly through and came face to face with another but far more agreeable surprise than the last. Before us, tied to a ring in the wall, were the two horses Nick and the General had ridden. With a body of men ranging the woods in friendly search, I realized that our escape on foot in that direction was difficult, if not impossible, but here was an easy way open to our hand. I suppose Solonika to this day thinks I planned it. She took our good fortune as a matter of course and was soon in the saddle. I leaped on the back of the General's big roan and we were off.
For the first few rods we walked our horses over the leaves. Nick and his band would naturally take an eastward course, back into the heart of the forest toward the boar-hunting grounds. We therefore turned toward the west and placed the lodge between us and the main entrance to prevent possible discovery when he issued from the gate. I wondered if he would notice the disappearance of the horses, but concluded that, if he did, he would imagine a groom had stabled them. At all events, when he did come forth, he did not stop, for we heard his party noisily gallop away into the woods.
"One fortunate thing; there will be fewer men to pursue us when they discover my escape," whispered Solonika.
"Ride," I commanded curtly, "we will talk later."
If she was surprised at my manner, she showed it by driving the spurs into her horse's flanks, which put her in the lead. It was getting light enough now for us to see the road, if the half-outlined path we were following could be termed a road. Solonika never hesitated; she seemed to know the forest well, for she found a sort of bridlepath between the trees and kept to it unerringly; whereas, had I been left to myself, I must have missed the way frequently.
For an hour we rode steadily without speaking, although I would have given much to have heard her voice again. But, when the sun came up, driving away, as I fondly imagined, plots and fear of sudden death, I could no longer resist the temptation. I knew that we were not out of danger by any means, for the horses were plainly tired, having covered the journey once that evening. Now I understood why Nick deliberated upon the steps. He was making up his mind not to use his own horse, but to take a fresh mount from the Duke's stable. When we emerged at last from the forest, and found ourselves in a pleasant country road, lined at intervals with farmers' houses, I signalled to Solonika and drew down to a walk.
"How far to Dhalmatia?" I panted.
"Thirty miles."
Thirty miles on tired horses! I was aghast. Our only hope now was that our escape had not been discovered. I recalled that it had taken only three hours to ride to the hunting grounds, but Solonika explained that I had walked sixteen miles in the night. If my calculation was correct the poor beasts we rode would have to cover some eighty miles from Framkor to the lodge and back.
"And furthermore," she added, "if your friend Nicholas takes the back track in search of you, he will come out on the Framkor lawns and we may meet him on the road ahead."
"He will have to pass Dhalmatia to do that," I said.
"Well, he promised to assure my sister of my safety."
She threw back her head and laughed, while I forgot my weariness, my aching head, my empty stomach, and laughed with her for the pure joy of laughing. To rest our horses we dismounted, walking hand in hand down the middle of the dusty road like two school children coming from school. We stopped occasionally at farmhouses where Solonika begged milk and bread for me, saying, as she fed me with her own hands, that the good things of this world were not equally divided, since she had had too much to eat and I too little.
I told her of America, my own United States, and described it to her as a land where there were no kings or queens but where every man was a king and every woman a queen. My description was so glowing that she promised to visit the States, after she was crowned and grew tired of being always a man. One day, she said, she would run away incognito, put on her loved woman's finery, which she could not forsake altogether, and send me her card from her hotel. Would I have forgotten her by that time? Would I be pleased to see her?
Ah, would I indeed? As well ask an aquatic fowl if he can navigate in water. How could I ever forget her? She would always be in my thoughts waking or sleeping until "the leaves of the Judgment book unfold." She was pretty, witty and full of airy fancies; a witch of the road, she interested me with her graceful charm. How was I to know that she exerted herself and talked so much in order to keep me from remembering how tired and ill I was? Twice, she said afterward, I would have fallen had she not held me up in her strong young arms.
But all dreams come to an end, and our awakening was rude enough. The General's roan, which I was leading with the bridle rein tucked under my elbow, was the first to give the alarm. He stopped deliberately and looked behind with a friendly whinny, nearly dragging me over backward. In plain view over the rise of a hill our pursuers came thundering along, not a mile in the rear. The tread of their horses shook the earth. Had we not been so interested in our conversation, we would have heard them long ago.
"Solonika!" I shouted, but she was already in the saddle, waiting as usual for me.
"There are only twenty of them," she said. "Your friend Nicholas is not among them."
"Can you make out the General?"
"No, he is not there. Duke Marbosa is leading."
Only twenty; small comfort in that, for, if our horses could not stand the strain, unarmed as we were, five would have been too many. But the long rest seemed to have done them a world of good. Both were carrying lighter weights than they were accustomed to, and for the next five miles we increased our lead considerably. It was only momentarily. The tide slowly turned against us and yard by yard the Duke's men gained, until it seemed we must fall into their hands almost in sight of home.
Peasants stopped their carts as we galloped past and, after a hasty glance at the cavalcade blackening the road behind, drove quickly into the neighbouring fields, regardless of ditches to avoid the trampling hoofs.
I reeled in the saddle twice for some unknown reason, but, ride as we would, we could not hold our lead. My poor old roan was dripping with blood where I drove the spurs into his heaving sides, and his face was white with the foam that dripped from his mouth.
Solonika kept ever close to my side, reporting the progress of the enemy and calling out words of encouragement to me and my wavering animal when her own beast was staggering as well.
"Ride! ride!" she shouted, her voice drowned by the noise behind. "They can never catch us. We are almost home. Do not lose courage, Dale. Oh, my brave Dale, do not give up."
Once, when I thought that human strength could stand no more, I looked around me. Our pursuers were not a hundred yards behind. Their angry voices came plainly to our ears, ordering us to stop. The Duke of Marbosa, still far in the lead, was within three horse lengths of the Prince, eagerly reaching forward to grasp his rein.
"Faster," I cried, turning my stumbling beast in behind so that the Duke would have to pass me before he reached his quarry.
We turned into a road which I recognized as leading to Dhalmatia. The castle and safety were only two miles away. Could we hold out? After the long journey, it seemed such a trivial distance. The Duke's horse commenced to lap mine. I could see the red eye, the straining neck, the foam-flecked mouth. I must soon throw my poor animal across his path and prepare for the terrible shock of collision, if I would save the Prince.
"Look! Oh, look!" It was a shout from Solonika.
I looked ahead, and there, drawn up in our pathway, completely blocking the road, was another body of horsemen, more numerous than the pursuing host. Hope fled out of my finger tips, but by a supreme effort I kept my seat.
"We are lost!" I cried in despair. These could be none other than Nick's men and he would have no mercy.
"On! on!" cried the brave girl. "Do not give up!"
I could see the Duke's horse no longer out of the corner of my eye. For some unaccountable reason he was slackening his pace. What need to ride so hard when his men headed us? What hope was there in riding on?
"Ride! ride!" still rang in my ears. Solonika had not given up. Yes, my good girl, I would ride! But to what purpose? Do not give up! Aye, that was the spirit. But oh, how bitter was this defeat. Blind, splitting headache, but the deadly ache at the heart was worse.
In sight of home, and yet to fail! God, what suffering! What agony of soul! Ride! Yes, I would ride into the very mouth of Hell. God pity the poor brute and the worse brute of a rider who stood in my path. If their bullets did not find my heart, or the heart of the faithful old roan, I would strike that mass, that solid mass of men and animals ahead.
Ride! Aye, Solonika, I was riding like a madman, not thinking or seeing clearly. Oh, if only I had brought my automatic Colt's revolver along, some of them would go with me before I was down in the dust beneath their feet. As it was, only one would remember the impact as long as he lived, if he did live afterward.
"Stop," I called to her, feeling dimly that there was no need for her to die among kicking, struggling hoofs.
"Ride!" was all I heard as answer.
She was still beside me. She was not slackening her pace. Our pursuers seemed far away and the solid phalanx in front deadly near. They shouted to us. What were they trying to say? It sounded like a cheer. But why should they not cheer? Had they not trapped us within sight of safety. Oh, for five minutes more. Had they been only five minutes later we would have gained the hedge that surrounded the Red Fox's estate and been able to beat them to the castle.
It was all a horrible dream. Yes, it must be that. Else why did it seem to me that the ranks in front of us wavered as if to let us through. Cowards! They dare not face a naked horse and an empty-handed rider. I held my breath for the shock, but it did not come. Could I be mistaken? The ranks in front did give way. We were passing between them. Not a hand was stretched out to detain us. That was surely a cheer. A cheer of conquerors!
Then came the sound of musketry. Oh, my head; my poor head! It was blinding me with its aching. But I was not hit. No! no! they were trying to save me alive for future torture, these Bharbazonians. But my horse was done. Surely they had riddled him with bullets. He wavered under me. His noble head went suddenly down between his forelegs. He had stopped and all my efforts to pull him to his feet were vain. I felt myself slipping downward as if in a dream. I did not feel that I struck the hard earth. I did not know that I was rolling in the dust.
"Ride! ride! we will run through them!" I dimly heard myself shout. Was that my voice, or was another soul crying like a lost, blind thing in Hell?
"Father, dear darling old father," it seemed to be saying, "is it you? Yes, I knew it must be you."
Then the noise of battle ceased and I drifted down into the blackness of the pit and suffered the pain of it.