We had all but given up hope, when I remembered Ramon, the smith whose forge was at Gola, three miles away.
One minute later we were hastening towards the village we could not see.
I must confess that I had small hope of success.
I was sure that the man was grateful, but we were about to set him a task which he could not perform. To harbour and feed five strangers in the teeth of the law… Here was work for a noble, with a mansion and trusty servants to do as he said. A village blacksmith could no more do it than fly. Still, he might take in the countess, and Carol might pose as his workman and, being a man of the country, pass unremarked as a helper attached to the forge.
These and such thoughts thrust into and out of my brain, though, what with the shock of disappointment, the danger the dawn was bringing and our weariness of body and soul, I found myself unable to think to any purpose and very soon gave myself up to the business of reaching Gola and finding the forge.
This we did at a quarter past three, and none too soon, for the cocks were already crowing, and the grey of the dawn was stealing over the hills.
The village was very small and seemed to have but one street, but the forge was the first of its houses and stood by itself. For this we were very thankful, for the smith must be awakened, and we had no wish to rouse neighbours upon whom we had no claim.
He must have been a light sleeper, for as I stood back from the oak upon which I had rapped, a window was opened above me and somebody put out his head.
‘Ramon,’ says George, ‘we’re in trouble. If you would like to help us, come down and open your door.’
‘I come,’ said the other quietly, and disappeared.
Not until we were in the kitchen and Ramon’s wife was chafing the Countess’ hands, did I understand what the latter had undergone. She was by no means fragile, but the strain of the last ten hours had brought her to the edge of collapse, and though she still smiled, she had the air of a runner that has run himself out. Her needs required no statement, and, before we had told her story, Bell was helping the smith to kindle a fire and Carol had been sent to the larder for brandy and milk and bread.
The warmth of the fire revived her, and, thinking it best to leave her to the care of the woman alone, we asked the smith to take us into the forge. And there by the glow of the coals, to the wheeze of the aged bellows we told that good man the truth.
He showed no surprise at our story, still less any fear, but when he heard that I was Leonie’s husband, he seemed to regard me as her consort and so entitled to share the esteem and affection in which she had always been held. Indeed, he would have it that the Prince was afraid of a movement to set up my wife in his stead and so was scheming to put us both out of the way, ‘for that,’ said he, ‘would be treason, and you have just told me, my lord, that he gave your conduct that name.’
I shrugged my shoulders and let him have his way.
‘Will you shelter the Countess, Ramon? And keep her man?’
‘That is easy enough, my lord. God forgive me, but I am known as a smuggler, and no one hereabouts is astonished if we sit down to breakfast one morning four souls instead of two.’
‘Then that is settled,’ said I. ‘And now can you recommend shelter for us that are left. If it’s not too far, we can make it before the dawn.’
As I spoke, I heard hoofs in the street and a moment later someone was kicking the shutters which kept the mouth of the forge.
‘Troopers,’ breathed George. ‘Who else would knock up a smith?’
Without a word Ramon left us to seek the door of the house, while George slunk close to the shutters to hear what was said.
Before we had recovered our wits, he was asking in broken German to have a horse shod and swearing that he would pay double if the smith would do it at once.
‘You must wait until daylight,’ said Ramon. ‘I cannot yet see.’
‘Not I,’ said the other roughly. ‘You must do it by candle-light. I tell you, I’ll pay you double–’
‘At dawn,’ said Ramon shortly and shut the door.
As he re-entered the forge—
‘Who on earth is that?’ said George. ‘And what is he doing here?’
‘He is out of the circus,’ said Ramon. ‘I heard it was here. They passed through Elsa last night and are going to a pitch beyond Vardar, to give their show. But they must have been delayed by the way, for they ought to be there by now and taking their rest.’
‘And so we should,’ said the voice we had heard before, ‘if we hadn’t been stopped for three hours by the — police. There’s something the matter with this country. Never again. And now come on and open.’
Not to be denied, the fellow had entered the house and stood in the little passage that led from the kitchen to the forge.
As Ramon began to protest, I heard the ring of a hoof and a frightened snort.
The next minute all was Bedlam.
By the mercy of God the Countess was gone upstairs, for the kitchen was full of two horses, and one of them cast.
I suppose, being circus horses, they were more bold than most, for they had clearly followed their master in.
Since the street-door led out of the kitchen, they had no hail to cross, and once they were in, no doubt the door had swung to, for when I got there it was shut, and the horse that was still on its feet was essaying the stairs.
As luck would have it, George and Bell and I were well used to horses. But for this chance, I do not know what would have happened, for the kitchen was very small and the poor beasts were mad with fright. Add to this that the one that was cast at once kicked over the table on which stood the candlesticks so that only the fire remained to illumine the scene. Had the smith and the stranger been alone, one or the other would, I believe, have been killed, for it took the five of us all our knowledge and strength to save the horses and get them into the street.
When the flurry was over, their master wiped his face. ‘I’ve a lot to thank you for,’ he said, peering. ‘Those horses are worth five hundred pounds apiece. Stroke o’ luck your being here.’ He hesitated. ‘Not out of a job are you? My shoeing-smith’s down with typhoid, and two of my grooms were stopped at the frontier post. Their passports were out of order. To tell you the truth, I don’t know how to get on.’
He spoke in English. No doubt in the confusion we had given ourselves away.
‘Yes,’ said I suddenly. ‘We’re all three out of a job.’ I turned to Ramon. ‘Let him into the forge,’ I said.
Once in the forge, the circus-master looked round.
‘I ask no questions,’ he said. ‘I’m too damned glad to have you. I’ll give you three shillings a day and find your food.’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘Where is your train?’ said George.
‘By the side of the road,’ said the other. ‘Five miles the wrong side of Vardar. Why do you ask?’
‘Because,’ said George, ‘we’d better be getting on. You don’t want us here, and I guess you’ve plenty of horses that need to be watered and fed.’
‘So,’ said the other quietly. ‘Well, I daresay you’re right. All cats are grey in the dark, aren’t they?’
‘Exactly,’ said George.
The circus-master laughed.
‘Seems I fetched up at a very convenient time. What do they want you for?’
‘A girl was in trouble,’ said George. ‘We had the nerve to help her out of this cursed land.’
‘Good enough,’ said the other shortly.
Then he told us how to get to the circus, and, when we were there, to report to a man called Bach.
‘Pitch him some yarn or other. He’s very dense. And then get on with the feeding as quick as you can. Watch out for a mare called Ada; she’s got ill will.’
‘In two minutes’ time,’ said George. ‘We must have a word with the smith.’
Ramon was with his wife, who was doing her best, poor woman, to put her kitchen to rights. The countess i
t seemed had slept through the hullabaloo.
Hurriedly we told him our plan.
‘We should be safe,’ said I, ‘for, as you heard, the police have been through his vans and I don’t think it’s very likely they’ll trouble to do it again. When the Countess awakes, tell her, and say that as soon as it’s safe we’ll come again. They can’t guard the frontier for ever. And once the stir has died down, we’ll cross by night. Till then, will you keep her safe?’
‘I will, my lord,’ said Ramon.
Against his will I gave him what money I had.
‘That’s for expenses. Carol must be clad as a peasant, and I think it would be as well if her ladyship changed her clothes. And now we must go. If you want us, you know where to find us. If we don’t come before then, send us word the moment the troops are withdrawn.’
Then we spoke to Carol and told him to serve his mistress as best he could and that as Ramon said he must do in every particular.
Thirty seconds later we were out of the house.
It was broad daylight before we reached the train, and I shall ever remember the feeling of thankfulness with which we stepped in among the horses and asked for Bach.
The latter seemed dazed – I imagine, for want of sleep, and I doubt if he heard the story we tried to tell; in any event, he was past caring who we were or whence we came, so we were to help him in a labour which Hercules might have shirked. He had but two stable boys that were fast asleep, and more than thirty horses were in his charge, all of them good to look at and most of them cross.
We told him what Reubens had said – for that, we learned was the circus-master’s name – and hearing the song of a brook behind a hedge, asked him to give us buckets and fell to work.
By the time that Reubens was back, all the horses had been properly watered and fed; five minutes later the circus was under way.
From then till the show was over, no one, so far as I saw, either rested or ate; myself, I have never worked harder in all my life, and had we not broken our fast before we started, we could not, I think, have endured such gruelling toil. That everyone was too busy, and later too much exhausted, to trouble about new faces was very clear, and I think that half the circus were strangers to one another and that life was too hard for the members of that unhappy fellowship to take any interest in any affairs but their own.
Indeed, if only the police did not repeat their visit, we seemed to be safe, for our time was spent in the horse-lines, from which the public was barred, and Reubens did not suggest that we should enter the ring.
Before the evening performance we had a short rest and were able to eat some rations which Bach produced. Whilst we were eating, Reubens came down the lines, tricked out in a ringmaster’s dress, to say that the tents would be struck at eleven o’clock and that we should leave at midnight for Janes, twelve miles away.
There was nothing to be said: but Janes was twelve miles from Vigil, from which we were now twenty-four.
When the Jew was gone, we sought to consider our plight.
We could not get out of the country: therefore, we must lie hid. So long as we stayed with the circus, we were comparatively safe. That the circus was moving westward was most unfortunate: for one thing, we were leaving the Countess: for another, each step that we took would have to be later retraced.
We bitterly repented that we had not thought to tell Ramon where we had left the Rolls and bade him take out the Countess the instant the troops were withdrawn. This would have been common sense, but the stress of the moment had played the deuce with our wits, and now, like all the others, that chance was gone.
There was nothing to be done.
After a little we lay down and slept like the dead – for less than an hour.
At eleven o’clock that night we assisted to strike the tents, and shortly after midnight we shambled on to the road.
From Janes we went to Vigil.
Our pitch lay west of the city, some two miles out. Our feelings may be imagined, yet what could we do?
We saw no papers, heard nothing of what was happening, feared to inquire. We could not communicate with Madame Dresden, still less with Leonie. Lest we be recognized, we dared not leave the horse-lines, much less dared leave the circus, for without some means of transport we could not even reach Gola during the night.
But for the Countess, our way would have been plain enough. After five more days the circus would leave Riechtenburg, crossing the western frontier on Thursday night. Here the country was flat, and the river which made the border was, I knew, used by barges and could not, therefore, be dangerous to men that could swim. Even if the troops were still out – and this seemed unlikely – we ought to be able to evade them without any fuss. But that was a dream. The moment we dared, we must return to Gola. Reason suggested that we should return very soon. What frightened me most of all was that Leonie, hearing no news, might act for herself.
One good thing we had of Vigil, and that was a full night’s rest. But when I awoke the next morning, I then and there made up my mind to leave the circus that night.
When I told George, he nodded.
‘I wondered,’ he said, ‘how long you’d be able to stand it. I would have left at Vardar, but I thought that if you could stick it, why, so could I.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Marching the wrong way is bad for my heart. So is suspense. For all we know, Marya Dresden was taken two hours after we left.’
‘God forbid,’ said I.
‘Amen,’ says George. ‘Never mind. Do we tell Fred Karno, or no?’
‘I think so,’ said I. ‘I’m not mad about his style, but we don’t want to let the man down.’
‘I’ve no compunction,’ said George, ‘about walking out. The man hasn’t helped us – he’s used us. We’ve taken no money and far more than earned our keep. No one would work as we have for this food and three shillings a day.’
‘I know,’ said I. ‘All the same, he’s been very convenient.’
‘So’ve we,’ said George. ‘Very. Never mind. You’re usually right.’
Half an hour later Reubens came down the lines.
‘This afternoon,’ he said, blinking. ‘I’ll want one of you in the ring. Ada kicked up a fuss last night, and these — boys are afraid. What’s more, the mare knows it. She’ll play them up to glory, and so I must have one of you.’
George shot me a glance. Then—
‘I’m sorry,’ he said, ‘but we can’t show up like that.’
The Jew looked down his nose.
‘The police won’t be there,’ he said, softly.
‘Perhaps not,’ said George. ‘But, frankly, we mustn’t be seen.’
Reubens tapped his teeth with the knob of his riding whip.
‘This is damned awkward,’ he said. ‘Strikes me I’m guilty of harbouring.’
‘I don’t see that,’ said George. ‘You were short-handed, and we came and asked for a job.’
‘And got it in one,’ said the other. ‘No questions asked. You know as well as I do, I’m taking a hell of a risk.’
‘I fail to see it,’ said George. ‘We’ve given you no cause for suspicion.’
The Jew looked at him curiously.
‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘No cause for suspicion – to date. At least, no cause they can prove.’ He hesitated. ‘Well, don’t give me one – that’s all. If you do – well, I don’t want to hurt you, but I’ve got to look after myself.’
There was a little silence.
‘Do you mean,’ said George, ‘that you want us to enter the ring?’
‘No,’ said the other. ‘I guess I can climb that fence. But don’t show me one that I can’t. You know that we move at midnight?’
‘I’d heard so,’ said George.
‘Well, don’t forget,’ said Reubens.
With that, he was gone.
‘There you are,’ said George. ‘What did I say? That’s what they call “the straight tip.” “Leave me, and I go to the police.” It’s just as well we didn
’t tell him.’
I shrugged my shoulders.
‘Business,’ I said. ‘Reubens is a business man.’
‘He’s a dirty dog,’ said George violently.
‘There’s just one thing,’ said I, thinking and speaking my thoughts. ‘Why should he come and say this? Why should he think we were thinking of clearing out?’
George looked at me.
‘You’re right,’ he said. ‘He’d some reason. What does he know?’
The question remained unanswered till near midday.
A boy had come round with papers about ten o’clock, and, whilst he was drawing the rations, we looked at the one Bach had bought.
The manoeuvres which the 4th Brigade was suddenly called upon to perform came to an end last night. In a General Order the GOC expresses his satisfaction with the energy and keenness displayed by all ranks and especially with the alacrity with which they responded to the alarm, the intention to raise which had been kept secret even from the Commanding Officers.
We determined to go that night, moving with the circus and leaving it in the first halt which was called upon the road.
The afternoon performance was nearly done, and the mischievous Ada was kicking her way through her tricks when Bell whipped up to my side.
‘Look, sir,’ says he. ‘There’s Carol. He’s trying to catch your eye.’
It was true.
Clad in white linen, as a peasant, the butler was alternately watching and clapping his chin to his shoulder to see if he was observed. He had come, of course, to tell us the troops were gone.
As I have said, the public was not allowed to approach the lines, but, the show being on, I suppose there had been no one to stop him and Bach and the stable-boys were busy at the mouth of the tent.
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