Truxton King: A Story of Graustark Part 33

"They'll see us by the lightning," gasped Truxton, almost ready to drop from faintness and exhaustion. He was astounded, even alarmed, to find that his strength had been so gravely depleted by confinement and lack of nourishment.

They were inside the city walls. Ahead of them, in that labyrinth of filthy streets lay the way to the distant square. His arm was now about her waist, for she was half-fainting; he could hear her gasping and moaning softly, inarticulate cries of despair. Switch-lights blinked in the distance. Off to the right of them windows showed lights; the clang of a locomotive bell came to them as from a great distance.

Their progress was abruptly halted by the appearance of a man ahead, standing like a statue in the middle of the network of tracks. They stumbled toward him, not knowing whether he was friend or foe. One look into their faces, aided by the flare of a yardman's lantern, and the fellow turned tail and fled, shouting as he did so.

Following a vivid flash of lightning, two shots were fired by the men who were now plunging up through the gates, a hundred yards or more away. The same flash of lightning showed to King the narrow, muddy street that stretched ahead of them, lined with low, ugly houses of a nondescript character. Instead of doing the obvious thing, he turned sharply to the left, between the lines of freight cars. Their progress was slow; both were ready to drop; the way was dark and unknown to them.

At last they came to the end of their rope: they were literally up against the great city wall! They had reached the limits of the railway yards and were blocked on all sides by they knew not how many rows of cars. Somewhere off to the right there were streets and houses and people, but they did not have the strength to try to reach them.

A car door stood open in front of them. He waited for a second flash of lightning to reveal to him the nature of its interior. It was quite empty. Without hesitation he clambered in and pulled her up after him.

They fell over, completely f.a.gged.

A few minutes later the storm broke. He managed to close the door against the driving torrents.

She was sobbing plaintively, poor, wet, bedraggled sweetheart--he called her that, although she did not hear him.

"We've fooled them," he managed to whisper, close to her ear. "They won't look here. You're safe, Loraine. 'Gad, I'd like to see any one get you away from me now."

She pressed his arm, that was all. He found himself wondering what answer she would give to Vos Engo when he took her to him to-morrow.

To-morrow! This was the 26th! Would there be a to-morrow for any of them--for Vos Engo, for Tullis, for the Prince? For _her_?

"There will be time to warn them in the morning," he thought, dulled by fatigue. "We can't go on now."

"Truxton," he heard her saying, tremulously, "do you think we can do anything for them--the Prince and those who are with him? How can we lie here when there is so much to be done?"

"When the storm abates--when we are rested--we will try to get away from here. Those devils know that I will give the alarm. They will have hundreds of men watching to head us off. It means everything to them.

You see, I know their plans. But, Loraine, dear little girl, brave as you are and willing as I am, we can't go on until we've pulled ourselves together. We're safe here for awhile. Later on, we'll try to steal up to the city. They will be watching every approach to the Castle and to the Tower, hoping to stop me in time. We must out-fox them again. It will be harder, too, little girl. But, if I don't do any more, I pledge you that I'll save you from Marlanx."

"Oh, I know you will. You must, Truxton."

"I'd--I'd like to be sure that I am also saving you from Vos Engo. I hate to think of you throwing yourself away on one of these blithering, fortune-hunting n.o.blemen." She pressed his arm again. "By Jove, it's great fun being a hero, after all--and it isn't so difficult, if the girl helps you as you helped me. It's too bad I couldn't do it all by myself. I have always counted on rescuing you from an Ogre's castle or something of that sort. It's rather commonplace as it is, don't you think?"

"I don't--know what--you're talking about," she murmured. Then she was fast asleep.

The storm raged; savage bursts of wind rocked the little freight car; the rain hissed viciously against their frail hotel; thunder roared and lightning rent sky and earth. The weary night-farers slept with pandemonium dinning in their ears.

He sat with his back against the side of the car, a, pistol in one hand, the other lying tenderly upon the drenched hair of the girl whose head rested upon his leg. She had slipped down from his shoulder; he did not have the desire or the energy to prevent it. At his side lay the discarded whiskers. Manfully as he had fought against the impelling desire to sleep, he could not beat it off. His last waking thought was of the effort he must make to reach Dangloss with the warning.

Then the storm abated; the soft drip of rain from the eaves of the car beat a monotonous tattoo in the pools below; the raw winds from the mountains blew stealthily in the wake of the tornado, picking up the waste that had been left behind only to cast it aside with a moan of derision.

Something stirred in the far end of the car. A still, small noise as of something alive that moved with the utmost wariness. A heavy, breathing body crept stealthily across the intervening s.p.a.ce; so quietly that a mouse could have made but little less noise.

Then it stopped; there was not a sound inside the car except the deep, regular breathing of Truxton King. The girl's respiration was so faint that one might have thought she did not breathe at all. Again the sly, cautious movement of a heavy body; the creaking of a joint or two, the sound of a creature rising from a crouching position to the upright; then the gentle rubbing of cloth, the fumbling of fingers in a stubborn pocket.

An instant later the bluish flame of a sulphur match struggled for life, growing stronger and brighter in the hand of a man who stood above the sleepers.

CHAPTER XV

THE GIRL IN THE RED CLOAK

Inside of an hour after the return of the frightened, quivering groom who had escaped from the brigands in the hills, Jack Tullis was granted permission by the war department to take a hundred picked men with him in the effort to overtake and capture the abductors of his sister. The dazed groom's story hardly had been told to the horrified brother before he was engaged in telephoning to General Braze and Baron Dangloss. A hurried consultation followed. Other affairs that had been troubling the authorities for days were forgotten in the face of this distressing catastrophe; there was no time to be lost if the desperadoes were to be headed before they succeeded in reaching the Dawsbergen pa.s.ses with their lovely captive. Once there, it would be like hunting a needle in a haystack; they could elude pursuit for days among the wild crags of upper Dawsbergen, where none but outlaws lived, and fierce beasts thrived.

Unluckily for the dearest hopes of the rescuing party, the miserable groom did not reach the city until almost noon of the day following the abduction. He had lost his way and had wandered all night in the forests. When Miss Tullis failed to return at nightfall, her brother, having in mind the mysterious disappearance of Truxton King and the flight of Countess Ingomede, was preparing to set forth in search of her. A telephone message from Ganlook, fifteen miles north of the city, came at seven o'clock, just as he was leaving the Castle. The speaker purported to be the Countess Prandeville, a very estimable chatelaine who ruled socially over the grim old village of Ganlook. She informed Tullis that his sister was with her for the night, having arrived in the afternoon with a "frightful headache." She would look after the dear child, of whom she was very fond, and would send her down in the morning, when she would surely be herself again. Greatly relieved, Tullis gave up his plan to ride off in quest of her; he knew the amiable Countess, and felt that his sister was in good hands.

It was not until the return of the groom that he recalled the fact that the voice on the telephone was not quite like that of the Countess. He had been cleverly hoodwinked. Baron Dangloss, obtaining connection with the Prandeville household in Ganlook, at once discovered that Loraine had not been in the chateau in many days.

The fierce, c.o.c.k-robin baron was sadly upset. Three prominent persons had been stolen from beneath his nose, so to speak. He was beside himself with rage and dismay. This last outrage was the climax. The old man adored the sister of Jack Tullis; he was heartbroken and crushed by the news of the catastrophe. For a while he worked as if in a daze; only the fierce spurring of Jack Tullis and Vos Engo, who believed himself to be an accepted suitor, awoke him from an unusual state of lethargy. It is even said that the baron shed tears without blowing his nose to discredit the emotion.

The city was soon to know of the fresh outrage at the hands of the bandits in the hills. Great excitement prevailed; there were many sincere lamentations, for the beautiful American girl was a great favourite--especially with those excellent persons who conducted bazaars in the main avenues. Loraine, being an American, did not hesitate to visit the shops in person: something that the native ladies never thought of doing. Hundreds of honest citizens volunteered to join in a search of the hills, but the distinction was denied them.

The war department issued official notice to all merchants that their places of business must be decorated properly against the holiday that would occur on the morrow. Shops were to be closed for two hours at midday, during the ceremonies attending the unveiling of the Yetive monument in the Plaza. The merchants might well give their time to decorating their shops; the soldiers could do all the searching and all the fighting that was necessary. Strict orders, backed by method, were issued to the effect that no one was to pa.s.s through the gates during the day, except by special permission from General Braze.

Count Vos Engo was eager to accompany the expedition to Dawsbergen in search of his wayward lady-love. Tullis, who liked the gay young n.o.bleman despite the reputation he had managed to live down, was willing that he should be the one to lead the troops, but Colonel Quinnox flatly refused to consider it.

"To-morrow's celebration in the city will demand the attendance of every n.o.ble officer in the guard," he said. "I cannot allow you to go, Count Vos Engo. Your place is here, beside the Prince. Line officers may take charge of this expedition to the hills; they will be amply able to manage the chase. I am sorry that it happens so. The Royal Guard, to a man, must ride with the Prince to-morrow."

Captain Haas, of the dragoons, was put in charge of the relief party, much to the disgust of Vos Engo; and at two o'clock in the afternoon they were ready to ride away. The party was armed and equipped for a bitter chase. Word had been sent to Serros, the capital of Dawsbergen, asking the a.s.sistance of Prince Dantan in the effort to overtake the abductors. A detachment, it was announced in reply, was to start from Serros during the afternoon, bound for the eastern pa.s.ses.

Baron Dangloss rode to the southern gate with the white-faced, suffering Tullis. "We will undoubtedly receive a communication from the rascals this afternoon or to-morrow," he said gloomily. "They will not be slow to make a formal demand for ransom, knowing that you and your sister are possessed of unlimited wealth. When this communication arrives it may give us a clue to their whereabouts; certainly as to their methods. If it should be necessary, Tullis, to apprise you of the nature of this demand, I, myself, will ride post haste to St. Michael's Pa.s.s, which you are bound to reach to-morrow after your circuit of the upper gaps. It is possible, you see, that an open attack on these fellows may result in her--er--well, to be frank--her murder. d.a.m.n them, they'd do it, you know. My place to-morrow is here in the city. There may be disturbances.

Nothing serious, of course, but I am uneasy. There are many strangers in the city and more are coming for the holiday. The presence of the Prince at the unveiling of the statue of his mother--G.o.d bless her soul!--is a tremendous magnet. I would that you could be here to-morrow, John Tullis; at Prince Robin's side, so to speak."

"Poor little chap! He was terribly cut up when I told him I was going.

He wanted to come. Had his little sword out, and all that. Said the celebration could be postponed or go hang, either one. Look after him closely to-morrow, Dangloss. I'd shoot myself if anything were to happen to him. Marlanx is in the air; I feel him, I give you my word, I do!

I've been depressed for days. As sure as there's a sun up yonder, that old scoundrel is planning something desperate. Don't forget that we've already learned a few things regarding his designs." He waited a moment before uttering his gravest fear. "Don't give him a chance to strike at the Prince."

"He wouldn't dare to do that!"

"He'd dare anything, from what I've heard of him."

"You hate him because--"

"Go on! Yes, I hate him because he has made _her_ unhappy. h.e.l.lo, who's this?"

A man who had ridden up to the gates, his horse covered with foam, was demanding admission. The warders halted him unceremoniously as Dangloss rode forward. They found that he was one of the foremen in the employ of the railway construction company. He brought the disquieting news that another strike had been declared, that the men were ugly and determined to tear up the track already laid unless their demands were considered, and, furthermore, that there had been severe fighting between the two factions engaged on the work. He urgently implored Dangloss to send troops out to hold the rioters in check. Many of the men were demanding their pay so that they might give up their jobs and return to their own lands.

"What is your name?" demanded the hara.s.sed minister of police.

"Polson," replied the foreman. He lied, for he was no other than John Cromer, the unsavoury husband of Anna Cromer, of the Committee of Ten.

"Come with me," said Dangloss. "We will go to General Braze. Good-bye and good luck, Tullis."

The little baron rode back into the city, accompanied by the s.h.i.+fty-eyed Cromer, while John Tullis sped off to the south, riding swiftly by the side of the stern-faced Captain Haas, an eager company of dragoons behind, a mountain guide in front.

At that very moment, Loraine Tullis was comparing notes with Truxton King in the room beneath the armourer's shop; Count Marlanx was hiding in the trader's inn outside the northern gates; the abductors themselves were scattered about the city, laughing triumphantly over the success of the ruse that had drawn the well-feared American away on a wild-goose chase to the distant pa.s.ses of Dawsbergen. More than that: at five o'clock in the afternoon a second detachment of soldiers left the city for the scene of the riots in the construction camps, twenty miles away.