Blood Royal (15 page)

Beside so brilliant an achievement the tale of my adventures seemed very small beer, and the War Office order which we had been shown at Elsa furnished the only light which I was able to shed upon the state of affairs.

By the time my tale was over, George had eaten and drunk, and, since we were both very tired, it seemed best to postpone all discussion and go to our beds, “for, as I have told you,” said I, “after tonight we shan’t sleep in them any more, and God only knows when and where we shall lay our heads.”

Reviewing the position next morning, no one could have pretended that the outlook was good. Thanks to George Hanbury’s exploit, our cause was no longer hopeless: but that was all.

The Prince was undoubtedly dying. It was not to be so much as imagined that he could survive till August when Johann’s command would be up. At the crucial moment, therefore, Johann would be in the palace and commanding the Body Guard.

The Grand Duchess, Sully and Grimm stood entirely alone. The Countess Dresden could do nothing, and her husband was on a mission to some other court. Even Kneller, the general whom Sully had specially summoned to strengthen his arm, had proved a broken reed.

On the other hand Johann was powerful within and without. He had command of the palace, and the War Office plainly was ready to do as he said. The Household and Privy Council were under his mailed hand. The Lord President might protest, but four hundred men-at-arms were ever a formidable answer to any argument.

Parliament there was none. Riechtenburg was governed by the Prince in Council – and the Councillors were sitting on the fence. That they had been suborned was unlikely: rather they had thought for themselves and, observing the quarter from which the wind was setting, were proposing to take their orders from whoever was in a position to have his orders obeyed. I had no doubt whatever that Church and State would follow the Councillors’ lead.

Johann had the whip-hand.

When the moment came he would have to outface the Grand Duchess and Sully, too. I did not envy him his task. But, though his ears might burn, he would stand his ground. And when they had said their say, Johann would turn to Duke Paul –
and show him the whip
…

Now this was surmise, but I had a presentiment of a struggle that would be still-born, because the heir apparent would himself deliver his birthright into his enemy’s hand.

The Grand Duchess telephoned herself at a quarter to ten o’clock.

“Good morning,” she said. “I am told I am to order the car.”

“I will send it at once,” said I.

“I should like to see you,” she said, “and, since you are going away, I cannot see any harm in the two of you coming to lunch.”

“We shall be very happy,” said I.

“At one o’clock, then. Goodbye.”

The Grand Duchess’ words brought us face to face with a problem which we had not yet tried to solve.

That night we must go into hiding. We must give our butler notice and quit our flat: we must go to the station, register most of our baggage and take the Salzburg train. To leave the train surreptitiously should not be hard, but we did not know the country and we had but a rough idea of the cover which it would afford. Unless we were close to Vigil, we might as well be in Wiltshire, for all the help we could give. The servants must be able to find us, yet how could we tell them where to seek us when we knew no more than they did where we should be? Over all, the pressure of time hung like a thundercloud. The Prince was moribund. Unless, as I had promised, a message could always reach us at the outside within the hour, we could be of no more service than the seventy-seven statues about the cathedral doors.

I am ashamed to say that we wasted an hour and a half seeking the answer to this riddle, when all the time it was staring us in the face. Indeed, I can never again despise the bumble-bee that dashes his burly body against one window-pane, while another, directly beside it, is open wide.

We had but to take the train which left after dark, alight from it quietly before it had gathered speed and privily repair to the passage which George had found.

I think it is manifest that, had we sought for a year, we could never have found a retreat one half so convenient from every point of view; and I found great comfort in reflecting that, when Death came to the palace, we should be ready and waiting to usher my lady and Sully into the presence and that, once we had done so, we could remain within call.

Without more ado, we thereupon summoned the butler and told him that we must leave Vigil that very night. We had, we said, business in England to which we must instantly go, only spending a day at Salzburg to take up some gear. The poor man seemed quite overwhelmed by this sudden change in our plans, for he and his wife had spared no pains to make us comfortable and, being both excellent servants, I think preferred our service to sitting with their hands in their laps. At once he protested that he must return us some money, because we had used the apartment for less than a week, yet had paid a month’s rent in advance, and then went off to check the wine and provisions which he had bought, that he might give us due credit for all that we had not consumed: indeed, it was most disconcerting to see so troubled by his honesty a man whom once we had suspected of playing his master false.

However, upon reflection, we called him back and told him to put up his pencil and let the arithmetic go, for that, if he had no objection, we proposed to leave Bell and Rowley under his care and the Rolls in the garage which suited her very well; “for,” said George, “as you have probably heard, the three are serving the Grand Duchess Leonie, and, apart from the trouble of finding them other lodging, they are very much better here than anywhere else.”

Here Bell and Rowley returned and made their report.

They had spoken with the Grand Duchess, who had said that the Prince was no worse, and then had proceeded, as usual, to take up Duke Paul. The Grand Duchess had decided to visit some shops, but the Duke had flatly refused to enter the crowded streets, and when Bell, who was driving, had not obeyed his orders to go about, had lost control of himself and had tried to get out of the car. They had, thereupon, turned round and had driven along by the river and through the Park, but had found these quarters deserted except for nursemaids and children, as was only to be expected at that time of day.

There was nothing to be said, so we told them the plans we had made and set them to packing our clothes; but the stars in their courses seemed to be fighting against us, for the only explanation of the Duke’s demeanour was that his nerve was broken and that he feared the people whom he was hoping to rule.

Here I may say that by now we had all four taken to carrying arms: this by no sort of arrangement, but because first one occasion and then another had seemed to demand the precaution, and, once it was taken, I suppose we saw no good reason to lay it aside.

It was now midday, and we were to lunch at one.

Now, happy as I was to be going to see my lady, I had no sooner accepted her invitation than I began to doubt the wisdom of visiting her at all.

On the face of it, such a visit was harmless enough; but the time was out of joint, and the measures which we had taken in the hope of setting it right were highly irregular. Though there was nothing to show it, both George and I were marked men, and the constant use of our car by so great a personage must have occasioned comment. Johann, who knew the truth, was out for blood. If he could turn our acquaintance to her embarrassment – link her name, for instance, to some scandal which he had trumped up, he would do so in a moment of time.

I had an uneasy feeling that by lunching with the Grand Duchess we were playing the enemy’s game.

By my desire, therefore, we made our way into the town and sat for a quarter of an hour beneath the awning of a café in one of the principal streets. At the end of that time we rose and stepped into a taxi which was crawling by the side of the kerb, shouting the address of our flat for such as had ears to hear: but, when we had turned two corners, we told the driver to take us to the Bridge of St Anne. This was an aged structure, crooked and roofed, and could not be used except by foot-passengers, of whom I fully expected that we should meet very few. In fact, we met none at all, and, since the Lessing Strasse lay but a stone’s throw away from the farther end of the bridge, I had a good hope that we had covered our tracks.

Luncheon was over, and the Grand Duchess and I were walking in the pleasant garden under the tall trees. The Countess and Hanbury were sitting upon the terrace, and George was talking lightly and making her laugh.

“What is your name?” said my lady. “Your Christian name? Mr Hanbury calls you ‘Bill,’ but I do not like that.”

“My names are ‘Richard William’, Leonie.”

“Richard,” said she. “You were named for an English King.”

“Oh, no,” said I. “It’s a very common name.”

“I do not find it common,” she said.

I folded my arms.

“I kiss the lips that said that, Leonie.”

She turned a glowing face.

“They are yours, Richard.”

“I know,” said I. “I cannot believe it. Why do you love me, my dear?”

“No man can see himself, Richard. If you could, you would understand.”

“I have a looking-glass.”

“Which tells you nothing,” she said. “If you met yourself in the street, you would not know who it was.”

The thing was too hard for me, and I let it go.

She was, as ever, most smartly yet simply dressed. And, unless I am much mistaken, she was wearing the little slippers that I had cleaned so gladly the day that I fell in love.

“I am mad about you,” I said uncertainly. “I have lived last night over again a thousand times.”

She cupped her sweet face in her hands.

“So have I, Richard. I asked you to lunch because I – Oh, my darling, I had to see you again.”

The blood was coming into my head, and I forced my eyes away from her perilous beauty and strove with all my might to steady my voice.

“I cannot go on,” I said thickly. “I cannot speak of these things and not hold you against my heart. I am sorry, but I – I have never loved anyone before, and I cannot go on.”

“Nor I, Richard, nor I. I have never loved anyone else, and I never shall. It was always my terrible fear that I should fall in love. I used to pray to be delivered, morning and night. And now – oh, my dear, what shall I do? We may be speaking together for – for almost the very last time. I cannot explain, but my part is written down, and I must play it out.”

“So is mine now,” I muttered, and did not know my own voice. “I will play it faithfully.”

“Say that you love me, Richard. Say you will always love me, whatever I have to do.”

With my nails biting into my palms, I addressed the foliage above.

“I love you,” I said shakily. “I dare not look at your beauty, because I love you so much. But that does not matter, because I know it so well. Your hair and your white throat and the light in your glorious eyes. From head to heel you are peerless, and I shall have eyes to see no other woman so long as I live.”

“Richard, Richard!”

With the tail of my eye, I could see that her hands were trembling against her cheeks and that she was pressing her temples so that the blood had run back from her fingernails.

“Hush, darling,” said I. “We must not talk of these things. The good God will give us another time.”

For all my preaching, she was the first to have herself in hand.

“The passage,” she said presently, “will make you a very hard bed.”

“We can take rugs with us,” said I. “Besides, I have lain in worse places and done very well.”

“At least,” she said, “it will not be for long. A day or two at the most. And you will be safe there, and – and I rather dread the business and I shall be very glad to know that you are so near.”

“I shall be in the wardrobe,” said I. “If—”

“No, no,” she cried. “No, no.” She caught my arm. “Whatever happens, you must not leave the passage. A stranger in the royal apartments would be shot down like a dog. You—”

Here came a step on the gravel, and we turned to see Madame Dresden hastening over the grass.

“What is it, Marya?”

“Sully is here,” said the Countess.

“So soon?” breathed the Grand Duchess. A hand went up to her throat. Then, “Come,” she said, and led the way to the house.

I was as certain as she that Sully was come to say that the end was at hand, and to tell the truth, I was confounded, for I am not a man that can move quickly, but like to be able to follow some preconceived plan. Such a plan I had made already, and I think it is here convenient to set it out.

Any change in the Prince’s condition was telephoned to Sully by Grimm. When the latter had reason to think, that the Prince was sinking,
before apprising Sully
he was in future to telephone to Rowley and Bell, who would be waiting his message by day and night. Upon receipt of this call, Rowley and Bell would instantly turn out the Rolls, take up the Grand Duchess and the Countess and then Duke Paul and bring the three to the passage as swiftly as ever they could. There Sully would meet them, for his house, it appeared, was but eight minutes’ walk from the fosse; and there George and I would be ready to take them in.

The fault in this plan is as evident as it was gross. Like a fool, I had taken it for granted that the Prince would live until midnight, or at least until we had taken the Salzburg train…

“I have come from the palace,” said Sully. “The Prince is not sinking, but he is very weak. He tried to give me some directions, but the strain was too great. I went there by arrangement, your Highness. As you know, I now go by arrangement three times in the day.” He paused there, in evident distress. “Had I waited to be summoned, madam, I should have waited in vain.
Grimm’s telephone is not working. He has been unable to use it since ten o’clock
.”

For a moment there was dead silence.

Then Hanbury spoke.

“Grimm can use another line.”