‘Thank you—General. May I assume that you will let our hostess know the reason why the Eatons will not be departing, after all, tomorrow morning?’
‘Certainly, my dear Duke, and please convey to them my sincerest apologies.’
‘By all means,’ agreed de Richleau, slightly inclining his handsome head, as he moved towards the door.
He found Richard and Marie Lou where he had left them. They had felt at once that the summoning of the Duke boded no good for their plans, and now, as he approached, they both shot him a swift glance of interrogation.
‘We’re stymied,’ he told them in a low voice. ‘Mack believed that we were already on to his little game. I think I managed to bluff him that we hadn’t even guessed who he was. But, all the same, he is taking no chances. All three of us are more or less under house arrest.’
‘I’ll pinch a car and make a bolt for it tonight, then,’ Richard murmured. ‘Only thing to do.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ the Duke countered softly. ‘I inferred that I accepted the situation and would do my best to persuade you to do the same; but I warned him that you might quite possibly resent his interference with your plans most strongly and make trouble for him later. I want you to play up to that rôle. I think the two of you had better go off to bed in a huff, right away, without saying good-night to anyone; and tomorrow Richard can make a formal protest to our poor little host.’
‘But we’ve got to agree on a plan for getting away from here,’ Richard objected. ‘Let’s go out into the garden again and talk it over.’
De Richleau shook his head. ‘It’s no good trying to rush things. Mack will almost certainly use the chauffeurs to form a guard for the garage tonight; and, even if you could get a car, as I said an hour ago, they would catch you long before you could cross the frontier. You play your part of showing natural resentment by going off to bed while I play mine of having accepted the situation under protest by staying down here for a bit. That’s the best way to lull their suspicions; and if we can do that we’ll stand a much better chance of getting away later on.’
‘What is all this about?’ Marie Lou asked with a puzzled frown. ‘Neither of you has told me a thing yet, except about pretending that Fleur’s birthday is next Monday and using that as an excuse for leaving here tomorrow.’
‘I’m sorry, Princess,’ the Duke said contritely, ‘but I want to avoid giving the impression that we three are conspiring. Please be a darling and take Richard upstairs, then he can tell you all about it.’
‘All right, Greyeyes.’ She turned to Richard. ‘Come along, my sweet, and remember that we’ve both got to look thoroughly sulky.’
When they had gone the Duke carried on a desultory conversation with some of the Poles, at the same time listening with half an ear to the wireless; but he did not wait up to hear the midnight news, as he knew already that Hitler would not, after all, make his bid for world power that weekend, as Whitehall anticipated. ‘Uncle’ would survive at least until von Geisenheim had made his trip to Germany and returned with the final terms of the secret treaty that the Nazis were well on their way to concluding with General Mack; so it looked as if the helpless millions of Europe were to be given a respite until the end of the month.
After breakfasting in bed next morning, de Richleau sent a message to the Eatons inviting them to ride with him, and on receiving a reply that they would be delighted to do so he ordered horses.
When he came downstairs about an hour later he found Marie Lou seated near the great wood fire that burned summer and winter in the lounge, with the two Poles who had fallen for her the night before in attendance and Richard in the far corner of the big room holding what appeared to be a most acrimonious conversation with their host.
Having said good morning to the group by the fire, de Richleau walked over to Richard and the Baron. The unfortunate Lubieszow was obviously most distressed. Never before had he found himself compelled to detain a guest against his will, yet he could do little but reiterate apologies. Richard was playing his part of an indignant M.P. well, but the Duke thought that matters had gone far enough, so he began to pour oil on the troubled waters. Having ordered the horses he found it comparatively easy, as horseflesh was the Baron’s ruling passion. Directly he heard that they were about to ride, he hurried them outside where the grooms were walking the horses up and down, and began to expatiate upon their beau ties.
For the Duke a big black, which he had ridden several times before, had been saddled; Richard was to be mounted on a strawberry roan, and Marie Lou on a bright chestnut mare. To the Baron’s relief, Richard abandoned the vexed question of his return home to his Parliamentary duties to enthuse about the graceful chestnut, and a few minutes later their host had the satisfaction of seeing them trot away along a drive that led into the nearby woods.
After cantering for a mile over the soft pine needles, they entered a wide glade in which there was a deserted forester’s hut; at a word from the Duke they drew rein.
‘I thought this the best plan to ensure us a talk with no likelihood of being overheard,’ he said at once.
‘Good scheme,’ Richard agreed; ‘but I must confess that I haven’t a single idea to offer.’
‘We talked for hours last night,’ volunteered Marie Lou, ‘and again this morning; yet neither of us could think of any way of escaping from this place except by stealing a car. It’s such miles from anywhere.’
De Richleau lit a cigarette. ‘True; and I’m afraid we shall have to reconcile outselves to remaining here until Mack lets us go.’
Marie Lou turned towards him; her violet eyes were troubled. ‘That doesn’t sound like you, Greyeyes.’
He gave a rather rueful laugh. ‘It’s nice of you, Princess, to be so concerned because it appears that I’m losing my grip.’
‘Well—er …’ Richard hesitated. ‘I’d hardly liked to say so, but since you put it that way yourself… Hang it all, you agreed last night how vital it was that we should get word to London now we know for certain that this Polish crook is selling us out; yet you won’t let me take a sporting chance and you actually suggest that we should sit twiddling our thumbs while—’
‘Steady on!’ the Duke cut in. ‘It’s you two who are getting rusty. I told you that our tactics last night were solely to allay suspicion. I reasoned that, if you went off to bed in a temper, Mack would give you the lion’s share of his attention and probably put a servant on to you to see that you did not leave your room with the idea of putting a midnight telephone call through to London; whereas, since I appeared reconciled, he might not bother about me at all. And I proved correct. When everyone else had gone to bed I did a little quiet snooping. The pimply-faced fellow who acts as Mack’s secretary had been posted to watch your corridor; he was sitting on that shallow flight of stairs that leads up to it.’
‘Sorry, Greyeyes.’ Marie Lou blew him a kiss. ‘We ought to have known better than to think for a moment that you would fall down on a thing like this.’
‘That goes for me, too,’ Richard added with feeling.
‘Bless you both!’ smiled the Duke. ‘Don’t give it another thought. But, to continue. You know that I am pretty light on my feet and can see fairly well in the dark?’
‘Then you managed to get downstairs and telepnone,’ said Marie Lou.
‘I went downstairs, but I didn’t attempt to telephone in the house I thought it too risky. I went round to the garage and found, as I had anticipated, that it was guarded. But that didn’t worry me; the starting of a car would have made too much noise at night, anyway. I continued my ghostlike progress to the stables, got this good fellow out of his box and saddled him up.’
Patting his horse’s neck, the Duke went on: ‘It’s about five miles to the village and back, and I saw no point in walking all that way, if I could ride. Of course, I muffled the horse’s hooves so that the sentry by the garage should not hear the clatter on the cobbles as I led my mount out. The rest was easy.’
‘Then you succeeded in telephoning from the village?’ Richard put in quickly.
‘That’s it. The local postmaster was somewhat irritable at being roused from his bed at three o’clock in the morning, but he was easily mollified when I produced my note-case. The fellow was scarcely better than a peasant, and he probably made more out of my nocturnal visit than he earns normally in a month. We parted the best of friends, and I don’t think he’s likely to talk.’
‘Did you actually manage to get through to the person you wanted in London?’ Richard asked.
‘Yes. It took over an hour, and I spoilt poor Pellinore GwainCust’s beauty sleep, but I talked to him for the best part of ten minutes. Of course, I couldn’t refer openly to what has been happening here, for fear someone in Brest-Litovsk or Warsaw who might have been listening in should cut me off; but Pellinore is remarkably quick in the uptake, and I am satisfied that, by the time we had finished, he fully understood what lay behind my somewhat cryptic utterances.’
‘Good work!’ laughed Richard. ‘In that case, there is no point in either of us trying to make a breakaway now.’
‘Not for the moment. Pellinore will inform the F.O. that a deal is in progress, the terms of which are virtually agreed. It only remains for us to let him know when it is actually completed.’
‘Then we can resign ourselves to remaining here for a few days?’
‘I do hope it’s not longer,’ said Marie Lou. ‘Fleur would be terribly disappointed if we weren’t home for her real birthday on Monday week. We arranged, too, for Simon to come down the weekend before that and stay over for it. He’ll be arriving at Cardinal’s Folly the Friday before—September the 1st.’
‘I think you should just make it,’ de Richleau reassured her. ‘With luck we’ll get away from here on Tuesday. But, in any case, you need not concern yourselves unduly if you’re not back in time to receive Simon next Friday. I was afraid that with all these rumours both he and Rex might become worried by the thought of you two being in Nazi-occupied Vienna, so I asked old Pellinore to get hold of one or both of them and tell them that you had joined me here, and the reason why we might all be detained for some little time at Lubieszow.’
The horses were moving restively under them, and for the moment there seemed no more to say, so by mutual consent they turned into another ride and set off down it at a canter.
Throughout the rest of Saturday and the Sunday that followed they played the parts they had decided. The Duke remained as amiable as ever to the Lubieszows and their guests and appeared in no hurry whatsoever to depart; but the Eatons, while showing every politeness towards their hosts, treated General Mack and his officers with a frigidity which plainly demonstrated their resentment at being detained against their will.
It was on Sunday evening, just as the light was beginning to fail, that Marie Lou noticed that the Duke had suddenly become quite restless. As he walked out on to the terrace for the third time in half an hour, she followed him.
‘What is it, Greyeyes?’ she wanted to know, taking his arm.
‘Lucretia,’ he confessed. ‘Before you arrived, or Mack had forbidden our departure, Lucretia and I had arranged to leave for home tomorrow morning. She promised to be back here tonight; but she hasn’t turned up, and in another quarter of an hour it will be too dark for Jan to bring his plane down in that open field without landing lights. I’m beginning to be afraid that they may have met with an accident.’
‘Surely that’s most unlikely?’ Marie Lou strove to reassure him. ‘You told me that Jan was an ace-pilot.’
‘So he is, my dear. I believe that at times he even acts as a test pilot; but that is no guarantee against engine trouble.’
‘From what you’ve said I gather that Lucretia takes quite a good view of that young man?’
‘Yes. She went on this trip to make up her mind whether she had really fallen in love with him.’
‘Then hasn’t it occured to you that, having left these friends of his with whom they’ve been staying at Cracow, they might have decided to spend a night together on their own, on the way back?’
He turned to smile at her. ‘What an idea to put into my grey and sober head!’
‘Nonsense, Greyeyes!’ she admonished him. ‘You must have been about his age when you seduced her mother and——’
‘Really, Princess!’
‘You can’t deny it. You’ve probably forgotten, but you told us the story years ago, before we ever met her. And, after all, it’s quite time that Lucretia threw her shoes over the moon again.’
‘Yes, I agree about that. Her affair with Cristoval went so deep that I was beginning to fear that she would never get over it. I’d give a great deal to see her happily married, and anything would be to the good which will free her from this awful inhibition that has been robbing her of the best years of her life. All the same, I don’t think your theory is the cause of their non-appearance tonight. Lucretia knew what was going on here and how anxious I was to get back to England before war actually broke out.’
‘Poor Greyeyes.’ Marie Lou squeezed his arm affectionately. ‘How little you really know about women! We all hate wars, because they take our men away from us, but we never allow them to interfere with our private lives if we can possibly help it. Love means so much more to us than frontiers and nationalities or having the right to vote for some silly man to talk in a Chamber of Deputies. If Lucretia really has fallen in love again she’ll be so excited at the discovery that she is not made of stone after all that a little thing like the possibility of a European war breaking out, and delaying your journey home, will not even enter her head.’
‘Perhaps you’re right,’ laughed the Duke. ‘I certainly hope so, and in any case we can’t leave here yet even if she does turn up.’
It was after dinner that night that Jan telephoned; but to the Duke’s fury he received the message second hand, and a very garbled version of what Jan had been attempting to convey. Anna Lubieszow had taken the call; the line had been very bad, and she had not heard clearly. Apparently, although no order of general mobilisation had yet been issued, the Polish War Office was taking steps to muster certain key personnel, particularly reserve air force pilots, of which Jan was one. The friend with whom he had been staying in Cracow was another, so they had gone off that morning together to report, but before leaving had made arrangements for Lucretia to return from Cracow by train.
At this point, unfortunately, the supply of information broke down. The nearest stations to Lubieszow were Pinsk, on the line from Warsaw, about twenty-five miles to the north-east, and Kowel, which lay fifty miles to the south-west, on the Lublin line. Lucretia’s shortest route lay through Jaroslaw and Lublin, but she would have to change trains at both junctions, so it might prove quicker if she caught an express to Warsaw and came on the northern line from there. Added to this uncertainty, they had no idea at what time she had left Cracow, so they could not even make a guess about when to send a car into either station.
De Richleau was somewhat concerned as Lucretia knew no Polish but reference to the railway time-tables showed that, even if she had left Cracow quite early in the day, there was no chance of her getting in that night.
After breakfast next morning they telephoned the station-masters at both Pinsk and Kowel, requesting that a look-out should be kept for a young foreign lady with golden hair; aquiline nose and grey eyes, and that if she arrived she should be made comfortable in the station hotel until a car could be sent to pick her up.
In the absence of von Geisenheim and Major Bauer, the Polish Staff officers had no conference to occupy them, so, having sat about reading or sleeping most of the weekend, they had arranged a snipe-shoot for the Monday. De Richleau went out with them and would have thoroughly enjoyed his day had he not been vaguely troubled about Lucretia. When they got back in the late afternoon he learned to his dismay that not only had she not yet arrived but there was no further news of her.
He spent a good part o
f the evening ringing up hotels in Warsaw on the chance that she might have stayed at one of them the previous night; but the war scare had now become so general that people all over Euope were curtailing their holidays and making emergency arrangements, which resulted in the lines becoming so congested that his efforts proved both exasperating and useless.
First thing on the Tuesday morning the most urgent enquiries at both stations still failed to produce any information about the missing Countess, and the Duke’s friends had all their work cut out to persuade him that a serious accident was much less likely to be the cause of her disappearance than a misunderstanding of Jan’s garbled message, or the generally unsettled state of things; and, indeed, from the news bulletins it seemed that Europe was on the very brink of catastrophe.
The Polish Government evidently knew nothing of the secret negotiations which were proceeding so well at Lubieszow, and the German Government gave no appearance of doing so. Each was accusing the other with ever-growing bitterness of injustice and persecution towards its nationals and it looked as though the street clashes which were already occurring in Danzig might at any time be made the excuse by one side or the other for an open declaration of hostilities.
Just after five o’clock an aircraft circled over the house and came down in the fields behind it. Two minutes late the guests, who were drinking their afternoon coffee in the terrace, saw the tall, grey General Count von Geisenheim and his lame, brutal-faced Nazi adjutant approaching. As soon as the new arrivals had been given refreshments Mack muttered a few words to the Count, upon which all the officers present left the terrace to go into immediate conference.
‘If only Lucretia turns up it looks now as though we’ll be able to get away from here tomorrow,’ murmured Richard.
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