“And what did you say?”
“I said I’d tell the farm servants.”
“Good for you,” said Mansel. “And what did he say to that?”
“Nothing, sir. But he gave me an ugly look and walked back to the car.”
“Right,” said Mansel. “Open the windows, will you? All of them – wide. By rights, the room should be cleaned. And, between you, you might keep an eye on the lane at the back. They’re supposed to be going to Varvic; but Boney might lose his way.”
“And if he should, sir?”
“Put him right,” said Mansel, laughing. “Put all of them right.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Bell, with the ghost of a smile.
Then Mansel and George and I set out for a walk; for the day before I had come upon a man seeking truffles with the aid of a couple of swine, and Mansel, who had heard of, but never seen such a thing, desired to talk with the fellow and watch him and his helpers at work.
7: The Race to the Swift
Cain had said only one thing that made us think; and that he said right at the last. Sooner or later, he had said, he should ask for his passport back. And if then it was not forthcoming… Now that was more than a threat, for it showed how his mind was working and proved how right Mansel had been to persuade the Duchess to leave before he arrived. In a word, Cain was out for a hostage. If he could take but one of us prisoner, he meant so to use that one as to bring us all to our knees.
So Mansel gave strict orders that from this time on no one of us should ever be left alone. If watching was to be done, then it must be done by two: if only one could be spared to stay with a car, then that car must care for itself. And so on. And never were we to go out unless we were armed.
That night Mansel and I went out on patrol, whilst George and the servants remained, not only to ‘hold the fort,’ but to keep a particular watch on the region at the back of the farm, “for,” said Mansel, “if Saul has a map of this district and that map is of the same scale as the one you saw, they know by now that we have a second way home. And I’m all against an ambush, unless I’ve laid it myself.”
We took the Rolls, and I drove; and Mansel sat beside me, pistol in lap.
First we drove to Latchet, of course without lights. As we stole down its only street, I shot a glance at the inn, to see that lights were burning in two of the first-floor rooms.
Then we made for Varvic, taking such roads as would bring us to the mouth of the southern drive. This we had never used, though we had reconnoitred its mouth.
(I am anxious to make this point clear. Schloss Varvic, as I have said, was approached by three several drives or private roads. One ran in from the north, one from the west, and one from the south. The northern drive was the one which we knew so well, on which George had wrecked the two-seater on Sunday night. The western drive was the one I had used that same night, when I had carried the letter which Mansel sent to the Duke. But we had never taken the southern drive. And for this reason, rightly or wrongly, we thought that, of the three drives, the southern drive stood least chance of being picketed.)
We berthed the Rolls in a meadow a mile away, and twenty minutes later we reached the mouth of the drive. Here we stood very still for five minutes or more, to give any man who was watching a chance to move. Since we had seen and heard nothing, we were just about to proceed, when Mansel touched my arm. An instant later I saw a flash in the woods which spoke to an oncoming car.
The car was coming from Varvic, along the drive: after perhaps one minute, we saw the beam of its headlights flicking from tree to tree. And when we saw this, we took cover without delay.
Where the drive ran into the road, its banks were high; and Mansel mounted the right one, and I the left. Lying there in the bracken, if it had only been day, we should have been perfectly placed, for we were some ten feet up and each was on one of the corners made by the drive and the road. But the luck we had had still held, for as it approached the road, the car began to slow down. And then it came to a standstill – this, directly below us, in the very jaws of the drive.
I recognized the car. It was the big limousine in which I had hidden myself, when the Duke had driven into his garage just over a week ago. It had seen a good deal of service, for I had marked at the time how its cushions were rubbed, but its engine was remarkably silent, and so was its drive.
And then—
“To the left,” said Cain.
“What d’you say, Boney?” said Forecast.
“I dunno,” said Boney. “I’ve never drove by this way.”
“Give me the map,” said Cain, and switched on the ceiling light.
This showed us at once that Forecast and Cain were sitting in the back of the car, and that Boney was driving, with China and Gulf by his side.
After the usual wrangle, Cain was proved right. So the ceiling light was put out and Boney turned to the left…
I found Mansel out in the road, with a hand to his chin. “Very interesting,” he said. “First point – the lights were left on at Latchet, to make us think they were in. Second point – why are they using a bigger and better car?”
“I know it,” I said. “It’s out of the garage at Varvic.”
“Ah,” said Mansel. “Saul lends them one of his cars – without a chauffeur to drive it. That’s more than I’d do. Third point – they’re all five present. That means that they’re not coming back from an ordinary call, for I decline to believe that Saul desired the acquaintance of China and Gulf. Fourth point – why would you say that they were using this drive?”
“I’ve no idea,” said I. “The northern drive is open: Cain drove that way on Wednesday – that we know. Is it possible they’re going for Goschen?”
“I think it’s for one or two reasons. Either they’re bound for Goschen, which is not so far by this way; or else the northern drive is now reserved only for us.”
“Goschen has it,” I said. “That’s why they’ve got a quiet car, and that’s why they are all of them there.”
We turned and began to hasten the way we had come.
“I agree. All the same, I’m not quite sure; for when I drive by night, I’d sooner use roads that I know than roads that I don’t. The latter may be shorter, but they won’t get you there so soon, if you have to keep on stopping to look at the map. Any way, we’ll get back to Goschen, just in case.” We broke into a run. “Not that George can’t hold his own, but I’m all for biting the biter whenever we get the chance. But I think we should have a look at the northern drive. Not now, and not by night. In the early morning, perhaps, when there’s just enough light to see.”
In less than ten minutes’ time we had reached the Rolls, but the moment I let in her clutch, I knew that we had a flat tyre. I had thought she was down a little, as I came up, but had attributed this to the unevenness of the ground.
Before I had switched off the engine, Mansel was out of his coat; and, though he uttered no word, I saw the frown on his face. This was our first set-back – if you can give it that name. But we could not have had a flat tyre at a more unfortunate time.
But worse was to come.
The spare wheels, of which we had two, were locked into place. Dust or dirt had entered one of these locks, for when I had put in the key, I could only turn it half round, and when I sought to withdraw it, it would not move. And we had no duplicate. It took us near half an hour to free that key, and five and thirty minutes had passed before we were out of the meadow and on the road.
Mansel was driving now, and he put his headlights on and went like the wind.
Neither he nor I said a word, but I knew that he was worried, and so was I. Our luck had begun to change; and, as I have said before, there is a saying, ‘It never rains but it pours.’
Faithful to the doctrine he preached, Mansel went by a longer way than the rogues had gone; for that way we knew very well, but were less sure of the other which we had taken but twice – and that, without lights.
Fast as Mansel
drove, it seemed, I remember, an age before we were nearing Talc – that is to say, the village which lay just short of a mile from the back of the farm.
As we approached, he slowed down and put his headlights out; and then we ran into the village, up to the crossroads where we must turn to the left.
We were, I suppose, some twenty-five yards from the cross, when a torch was flashed to and fro, and Mansel set a foot on the brake.
Then Carson was speaking – in a voice that I hardly knew.
“They’ve got Mr Hanbury, sir.”
“Got?” cried Mansel. “Got?”
“Seized, sir. Carried him off. I don’t know which way they went.”
“How long?” said Mansel.
“Not more than eight minutes, sir.”
“Into the car,” said Mansel. “Talk as we go.”
As Carson leaped into the back, Mansel put the car at the crossroads, brought her up all standing and backed her round to the left. Then he swung her round to the right – the way we had come. And then he switched on his headlights and let her go.
If we had come fast to Talc, the pace we were going now was that of the devil himself. In a word, Mansel called on the Rolls, and that splendid car responded as only a thoroughbred will. He never spared her at all, but drove as a racing driver who has the road to himself, and once, on a long straight stretch, I saw the speedometer-needle touch ninety-six.
From time to time Mansel spoke. Carson was kneeling behind us, to hear what he said.
“Did you see the car?”
“Not properly, sir. But I know it wasn’t Forecast’s. Too big and too quiet.”
“Identify anyone?”
“Cain, sir. I heard his voice.”
“Mr Hanbury hurt?”
“That I can’t say, sir. I never heard him cry out.”
There was a little silence, while Mansel whipped through a hamlet at seventy-five and sliced two bends to an inch without lifting his foot.
He never asked what had happened, though he must have been burning to know; but gave the whole of his mind to the possible rescue of George.
“They’re bound for Varvic, of course. And with George in that castle, we’re sunk. So we’ve got to get there first. I don’t want to overtake them: that’s why I’m going this way. To overtake would be hopeless. Our only chance is to be there when they arrive…
“They’ll take the southern drive. I daren’t take the northern drive – I’ve told you why. And so we must take the western… You’ve driven the western drive, William. What is it like?”
“Quite straightforward,” I said. “There’s a right and left turn half-way, where you drop to go over a bridge.”
“Tell me before we get there.”
Here I saw a check coming, and Mansel saw it, too.
Ahead, a lorry was pounding, going our way. And ahead of the lorry was a bridge, some forty or fifty yards long. We knew it well enough and had crossed it many a time – and been held up there before; for the bridge was very narrow, and once a car was upon it, no other car could go by. And the lorry knew we were there, but it had come first to the bridge and so it refused to give way.
Mansel pulled out. At once our headlights showed that the bridge was clear. Mansel sounded his horn and put down his foot…
I think I tried to say ‘Stop,’ for I knew that it could not be done. There are times when you can cut in, and times when you can’t. And this was one of the latter, for the lorry had reached the abutment and was closing the neck of the bottle, if I may put it that way.
And then we were through the gap, somehow…and the Rolls was over the bridge…
(Mansel said to me later, “You see, you did not allow for the speed of the Rolls. I dare not say what we were doing, but we were moving so fast that, compared with us, the lorry was standing still. And so the gap was not closing. But, of course, we had to be quick.”)
Mansel was speaking again.
“The point is – which will they do? Drive straight to and into the garage, or up to the gate? Myself, I think the garage, provided it’s open, of course. Opinions, please.”
“I agree,” said I.
“The garage, sir,” said Carson. “But if we get there in time, you can set me down at the gate. Then if they should stop there, I can hold them till you and Mr Chandos come up.”
“Very good – if there’s time. In any event, I shall drive right up to the castle, past the garage and put the Rolls under the wall. Is the going all right there, William?”
“Quite good enough.”
“Remember this. We’ve got to wait, if we can, till George is out of the car. In the car, we can’t get at him. He’ll be in the back – for a monkey; and Forecast will have a pistol stuck into his ribs.”
The car tore on.
The rogues had had eight minutes start, and, if they had gone as they came, they were taking a far shorter route; for we had to go right round to the mouth of the western drive. And, though we were moving so fast, they would not be wasting time, for fear of pursuit. I began to feel hopeless…
By the mercy of God, the roads were empty that night. Two cars, as well as the lorry, were all the traffic we saw. As a rule, at such a time, there was little abroad; but tonight we were using main roads for most of the way.
“And, if we do it,” I said: “I mean, if we get there first…”
“We’re going to do it,” said Mansel, quietly enough. “What happens then, I don’t know. It depends upon what they do; upon where they stop the car, and how they get out. But they must not suspect our presence, till George is out of the car.”
And here, at last, we came to the western drive…
Although he had never seen it, Mansel still maintained a tremendous speed, and this, I think, did him more credit than anything else. His driving that night was really wonderful: of course, he took risk after risk, but he had to do that; and he never lost a second or gave two inches away. But the drive was full of bends and was not very wide, and the woods were standing thick upon either hand; yet Mansel went up that drive, which was two miles long, at nearly a mile a minute for almost the whole of its length, only slowing down when I told him that the right and left turns were at hand. This demanded a lightning judgment and perfect control – the eye, the brain and the members working as one.
So for less than three minutes…
Then we tore round a curve, to see the meadows ahead in the light of the moon.
At once Mansel put out his lights and lifted his foot…
A moment later we saw the castle itself.
Since the archway which gave to the garage was facing south-west, this was clear to be seen from the western drive. And now its great doors were shut; but the wicket in one of the leaves was open wide, for the lights in the garage were on and were shining out of the wicket on to the apron without.
I did not know what to think…
As always, a light was burning beside the castle gate.
Carson was out on the running-board, ready to drop.
Mansel drove on to the sweep in front of the castle gate. As he turned, to make for the apron, he slowed right down for a moment, and Carson stepped off. And in that blessed instant, I saw the lights of a car in the southern drive.
“By God, you’ve done it,” I breathed. I saw Mansel glance to his right. “Over the apron, and round. We’ve just got time.”
It was the nearest thing – for we had to bestow the Rolls.
Had we left her close to the archway, quite apart from the moonlight, the lights of the incoming car must have picked her up. So we had to drive on, round the castle, until she was hidden from view. And then we had to get back – before we ourselves were caught by the lights of the limousine.
“Say when,” said Mansel, whipping over the turf and shaving the castle wall…
I think those were the worst moments of all that terrible night; for there was the limousine coming, yet we were increasing the distance we had to go. We were going away from the wicket.
Yet, unless we could reach the wicket before the limousine turned, her lights would fall full upon us and we should have lost our race.
Not until we had reached the postern could I see the apron no more.
“Good enough,” I cried.
And then we were out of the Rolls and were racing the way we had come…
The limousine was out in the meadows – with seventy yards to go. As we reached the edge of the apron, I saw her enter the sweep. For an instant, she seemed uncertain; then I heard Boney change down, and, instead of holding straight on, the beam of her headlights began to come round to the right.
In a flash we were through the wicket, to find a man in the act of drawing the bolts of the leaves of the door itself.
There was no time for nicety. As he turned, Mansel hit him once, and the fellow fell down in a heap.
Mansel picked him up and laid him along the wall, quite close to the gate.
“We must play his part,” he breathed, “and open the leaves. One to each leaf. We keep out of sight, as we do it. And as the car comes in, we close them again. Keep your eye on my leaf and the instant you see it move, bring your leaf over to meet it with all your might.”
As the car passed on to the apron, we drew the bolts. Then we pulled open the leaves, keeping out of sight as we did so, backing towards the wall. Before my leaf was quite open, the car, which had come to rest, began to move forward again. Its headlights were making the archway as bright as day…
With a hammering heart, I waited for Mansel to move. Then I saw his leaf shudder, and that was enough for me.
With all my might I swung the massive oak forward, to the tune of such shouts and yells as I never had heard.
It was the merest chance, but, had we rehearsed the manoeuvre, I cannot believe that the timing could have been better or the result improved.
Almost at the same instant the two great leaves struck the car – and that, directly in line with the steering-wheel.
Since the coachwork was all of wood, and each leaf must have weighed near a ton – for oak is heavy and they were studded with iron – the car gave way, till the leaves came against its side members which slowed them up.
Eye For A Tooth Page 13
