Blood Royal Read online

  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 ta
ke 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.”

  “If he leaves the apartments,” said Sully, “he fears that he may not get back. There are sentries everywhere.”

  “But he has to leave for his food.”

  Sully shook his head.

  “No. The royal apartments are like an ordinary flat. Grimm and the four footmen sleep and eat next to the Prince. They always have. A lift goes down to the kitchens. For the last three days neither Grimm nor his son have been out of the royal apartments.”

  “What of the others?” said I. “The other footmen, I mean?”

  Sully shrugged his shoulders.

  “They are untrustworthy. Grimm has reason to think that one at least was aware that the telephone was to be cut. He would dismiss them in an instant, but they are kept so busy that they cannot be spared.”

  The Countess put in her oar, but I was trying to think and I do not know what she said.

  The loss of the telephone was serious: but, once we were in the passage, one of us could act as a runner to carry the news. What was, to my mind, far more grave was that three out of five of the men who were in the holy of holies were taking their cue from Johann.

  Sully was speaking.

  “If we are not to be advised, madam, we stand no chance. I cannot dwell at the palace, and even if I could—”

  “Are the footmen powdered?” said I.

  They all stared at me.

  “Yes,” said Sully. “The Prince always keeps his state.”

  “Tell me,” said I. “At what hour do you go there again?”

  “At six o’clock,” said Sully.

  I glanced at the watch on my wrist.

  “In three and a half hours’ time. Can you go there before?”

  “I would rather not,” said Sully. “I have no doubt that my visits are reported to the Duke Johann. I do not wish him to find them irregular.”

  “Then must we hope,” said I, “that the Prince’s condition will not change before six o’clock. At that hour give Grimm these orders. First, he is to sack the three footmen he does not trust – return them to ordinary duty, or, if they have no other, send them away. This he is to do then and there. Let them change their clothes and be gone by seven o’clock. And when they are gone, he will go at once to the wardrobe, open the door to the passage and speak to George.”

  Sully put a hand to his head.

  “But I have told you, Chandos, that Grimm says they cannot be spared. The apartments are spacious, and the men are on their feet from—”

  “I will replace them,” said I. “All three – at seven o’clock.”

  There was an electric silence.

  Then I heard a sound which sent my heart into my mouth.

  It was the clear, peremptory call which Duke Paul had sounded at Anger against my will – a call not meant for cities, but used to clear the way on the open road.

  It was the horn of the Rolls.

  I turned to the Grand Duchess.

  “I hear the servants,” I said. “They were not told to come here, and they would never have done so without good cause. I beg that you will excuse us, and please induce Baron Sully to do as I say.”

  She was very calm, but I saw the alarm in her eyes.

  “You should have left Vigil this morning.”

  “Oh, no,” said I, smiling. “You won’t forget Grimm’s orders? At seven o’clock.”

  My darling looked me full in the eyes.

  “I shall forget nothing,” she said.

  The next instant I was gone.

  I followed George out of the hall and closed the front door.

  As I did so, the Rolls came to rest by the pavement beyond the gate.

  Two men, standing on the pavement, were watching it curiously: then they glanced at each other and turned to the steps.

  “Not a moment to lose, sir,” said Rowley, as though he were speaking to Bell.

  As we passed through the gate—

  “Excuse me, sirs,” said one of the plain-clothes police, “but, if I may ask your indulgence—”

  “Another time,” said George.

  He brushed the fellow aside and vaulted into the car.

  Another car was turned violently into the quiet street.

  “That’s them, sir,” said Rowley. “Quick!”

  As I flung myself forward, the two men fell upon me, as dogs on a rat.

  There was no time to repulse them: there was no time for Rowley to come to my aid. The police car was thirty yards off: already its brakes were in action, and I saw its near door open and policemen ready to drop.

  By a tremendous effort I reached the side of the Rolls.

  Rowley’s arms went about me, and George caught hold of my wrists.

  “Let her go, Bell,” he said.

  There never was seen such an exit.

  Gathering speed, we swept up the Lessing Strasse, three men within the car and three without. I had one foot on the step, and so had one of the police: his fellow had none. Their full weight was upon me, and between them and George and Rowley I was like to be torn in two. Behind us came yells and whistles and the storming of gears.

  As we swung round the first corner, the two police tightened their grip. They were holding to me for safety, and I do not know that I blame them, for we were travelling fast.

  George Hanbury was speaking.

  “Where are you going, Bell?”

  “Into the country, sir. The town isn’t safe.”

  “By the Austrian Road?”

  “Yes, sir. It’s the only one I know.”

  “Well, turn
to the left as soon as ever you can. Swing her round as sharp as you dare.”

  “Very good, sir.”

  An instant later the great car heeled to the left, and the three of us swung inboard, because of the pace. As we did so, Rowley lifted and George caught hold of the man whose arms were about my neck.

  Why I was not broken in pieces I do not know, for the two police clung to my body as though they were drowning men. With them like leeches upon me, I was dragged, like a sack of provender, over the side of the car; and even then they would not let go, but George and Rowley had fairly to tear them off me before I could move.

  “Are you all right, Bill?” said George.

  I was sound enough and only short of some skin, but my clothes were in a bad way, for my coat was split to glory and my shirt was hanging in tatters about my breast.

  I then crawled on to the seat, but, when the police would have risen, George bade them stay on the floor.

  Five minutes later we were clear of the town.

  For the next six miles Bell drove as hard as he could, while Rowley watched our prisoners, and George and I studied the map. Then, where the road was lonely, we turned to the left and set ourselves to the business of baffling pursuit. This was easy, for the country was not at all open and there were plenty of roads.

  After perhaps forty minutes, high up among the mountains, we found an excellent lair, where a thicket harboured a quarry which had been long disused. From the head of the quarry a man who was looking out could see the road for some distance on either side, and, though such precaution seemed needless, we set Bell there as a sentry, for one so narrow escape was enough for that afternoon and I had no wish again to see my plans crumble before my eyes.

  I will not dwell upon the matter, but so long as I live I shall hear that police car coming and the scream of its brakes. It was only its driver’s error that saved us both. Had he turned in in front of the Rolls, we should have been trapped. Had he but run alongside, the police could have boarded the Rolls and won their match. But, as I have shown, he did neither – and, as the saying is, a miss is as good as a mile.