“So do I,” said I. “For that reason Bell must come in, and you and your son alone must appear in the hall. If Duke Johann comes, is there any reason why he should not be put in the dining-room?”
“Between that and the bedchamber, sir, there is a connecting door.”
“I know,” said I. “Put him into the dining-room. He won’t demur. If he does – it’s the Prince’s pleasure. We must keep him as far from the sentries as ever we can.”
“I’m in your hands, sir,” said Grimm.
With that, he went off, and I returned to the wardrobe, where George and Sully were standing by the side of the open trap.
I raised my eyebrows, and Hanbury shook his head.
Rowley had been gone fifty minutes – to be exact, fifty-two.
Bell came to say that the lords-in-waiting had arrived. The sergeant-footman had met them and made his report.
I could not stand still waiting, but went after Grimm. He was, of course, in the hall.
“Tell me,” I whispered. “If Duke Johann has to be summoned, whom will you send?”
“I have thought of that, sir. One of the holy women can seek the chaplain and she can tell one of the servants to fetch the Duke. And now will you take my place? I should be in the bedchamber.”
I did not know what to do.
The man was quite right. His place was in the sick-room. More. Unless he was in the sick-room, we had no means of knowing the state of the Prince. Yet, in case Johann should arrive, he must be in the hall.
“Listen,” said I. “I will send Bell to stand here – by the bedchamber door. You also will stand by the door – but inside the room. The instant a telltale glows Bell will knock twice. Then he will disappear and you will enter the hall.”
“Very well, sir.”
By the time the change had been made, another five minutes had passed.
George was on the floor of the wardrobe, with his head overhanging the opening, straining his ears. Sully was standing beside him, leaning against the door of one of the several closets which gave the wardrobe its name. As the latter’s eyes met mine, the wise smile I had seen so often came into his face.
A wave of admiration swept into my heart.
The weight upon Sully’s shoulders was far more heavy than any we sought to bear. The master he loved lay dying: everything that he cared for was in the scale: this hole and corner business was as strange and odious to his nature as is the sunlight to the owl. Yet of us all he was the calmest, the most assured.
I saw George thrust down his head.
For a moment he listened intently. Then he nodded and rose to his knees.
“They’re coming,” he breathed. “I can hear them. In half a minute you’ll see the light of the torch.”
“Praise God,” said I, and meant it, and Sully’s lips moved as though he had said ‘Amen’.
It was now exactly an hour since Rowley had been dispatched.
As I stood to the top of the steps, I heard a double knock fall upon the bedchamber’s door…
The footfalls were clear now.
The three were hastening – almost running. As luck would have it, the floor of the passage was smooth, and indeed the whole of the tunnel was very well done.
The Grand Duchess was mounting the steps.
She had jewels in her hair, and a cloak of gold and crimson overlaid the black of her dress.
Her face was most white and set, and when she saw me, she instantly looked elsewhere, as though to avoid my eyes.
Wondering, I put out an arm, for the steps were high; but, though she lowered her head, as though to acknowledge the gesture, she made no use of my help.
I moved to one side – dazedly.
As she stepped into the wardrobe she covered her eyes.
I glanced at the Countess Dresden, behind on the steps. In her face was plain tragedy.
I returned to the Grand Duchess, to see that her mouth was working against her will.
“What is it?” I breathed. “What’s the matter?”
Twice she strove to answer, but no words came.
Then she drew herself up.
“Gentlemen,” she said, “it is finished. Duke Paul – the heir is not with us. I am here to tell you, to my shame, that he is afraid to come.”
The silence which succeeded her words was that of death. Sully, George and I stood as though turned to stone. And the Grand Duchess stood in our midst, like some Andromache, stricken, desperate and – incomparable.
The sergeant-footman entered the wardrobe and came to my side.
Though I heard what he said, he seemed to me to be speaking from a great way off.
“Sir,” he whispered, “I have done as you said. His Highness the Duke Johann is in the dining-room.”
9: We Play the King
I suppose there have been moments in history when a king himself has cast his kingdom away, but I find it hard to believe that, since the world began rolling, anyone having authority, high or low, has ever failed his supporters so untimely and so outright.
I had always feared that, if he were summoned by night, Duke Paul would take his own time to leave his bed and might imperil his fortune by his delay; but I had never dreamed that, bidden to his own accession, he would refuse to come.
Indeed, the Grand Duchess’ tidings acted upon me as some malignant drug. I felt as though I had suffered a blow on the head which had not laid me senseless, but had disabled my wits. These lay dormant. I could see and hear: I could smell the faint perfume which the Grand Duchess used. But use my brain I could not: that member was stunned.
I regarded Grimm stupidly: I surveyed the Countess Dresden as though I had not seen her before: and I stared upon the Grand Duchess as a clown upon some beautiful waxwork which represents a kind of which he has never dreamed.
Then I saw George turn to Sully, and my presence of mind came back.
“I will go,” I said, and hardly knew my own voice. “The Prince must not die – officially, before I return.” I looked at George. “If the doctors can’t see our point, man the bedroom and show them something they can.”
The next moment I was in the passage, with Rowley running before me as hard as he could.
What was the length of the tunnel I do not know, but at that time it seemed to be endless, and at last, of my impatience, I overtook Rowley and snatched the torch from his hand.
As we left the niche, I saw that night was still with us and would be for half an hour, but the sky was not so black as it is at midnight, and I knew that the dawn was coming over the hills.
I had hoped against hope to find a car by the fosse, but when I asked Rowley he told me that the Grand Duchess had alighted a little way off and, before going on, had sent the chauffeur away.
There was nothing for it but to run as fast as we could.
Our course lay by the river and in front of the palace gates, but the breadth of the road would lie between us and the sentries, and, though the light of the lamps might show my livery, the men were not likely to take action, and, in any event, Rowley knew no other way.
I am not fleet of foot, and before we had covered five furlongs I was in some distress; but I dared not spare myself, for I knew it was neck or nothing – and a very close run.
By the time we had passed the palace I was streaming with sweat and my lungs were beginning to labour as never before; then a stitch came to torment me and my legs started trembling and aching from ankle to hip: but any torture was better than the horror of losing time, and I stumbled on like a madman, with Rowley panting behind.
All the time despair possessed me. My aim was to fetch Duke Paul, but how to bring this about I could not think. That the Duke would hear me of all men seemed out of reason: as like as not he would have me turned from his doors. Even if he yielded to persuasion, he never would hasten as we had, and I could not command a car. Meanwhile the Prince was in extremis, and I had set George Hanbury an almost impossible task.
At last Rowley spurted past m
e and turned to the left. This to guide me, for we were past speaking, and but for his movement I should have run straight on.
If we passed anyone I did not see them: but that is nothing to go by, for even my sight was failing beneath the strain. The ways seemed less dark than blurred, and the trees upon either side to be closing in. I could not hear our footfalls, but only a dull roaring, like that of the waves of the sea; and I blundered rather than ran, for all my steps were uncertain, and the merest wrinkle in the roadway troubled my balance and threw me out of my stride.
Rowley lurched to the right, and we entered a broad street which seemed familiar, to see in the distance the lights of a car standing to the left of the way.
I tried to cry out, but I could not, so I made a mighty effort to reach Rowley’s side. As I came abreast, I touched him: then I staggered on to the pavement and, seizing the railing of a mansion, hung upon it like a wretch on a whipping-post, to get my breath. If I was to argue, it was clear I must be able to speak.
So for two precious minutes we let the world slip.
Then we went halting together up to the car.
As I had prayed, this was Sully’s.
I told the chauffeur that the Duke would be out in a moment, and, after staring a little, he touched his hat.
I bade Rowley stand by the car and rang the house-bell.
The mansion was not in darkness, and almost at once a butler opened the door.
“His Highness Duke Paul,” I demanded, “in the name of the Prince.”
Before he could answer I was within the house.
Now I was far from recovered and was breathing most hard, and I fancy I had the look of a desperate man. If my speech was strange, I was wearing the royal livery, and the servants were doubtless aware, if not that the Prince was dying, that some state crisis was at hand.
Be that as it may, the butler left the door open and ran before me upstairs and into a smoking-room.
As we entered the chamber, I heard the shiver of glass.
Duke Paul was in the midst of the floor, unusually red in the face and regarding the pane of a china-cupboard from which was protruding the hassock which he had launched. He was wearing the gay uniform in which I had seen him last.
He stared at me as though I were risen from the dead.
“Leave us,” said I to the butler.
The fellow went.
I turned to the Duke.
“My lord,” said I, “have no fear. If you come with me, in an hour you will be the Prince.”
He began to pluck at his lip.
“I – I thought you—”
“I know. You thought I had been arrested for something I hadn’t done.” He recoiled. “Never mind. This isn’t vengeance. I’m about the only person with whom you’re really safe. And now please come with me. There’s a car below.”
The youth’s eyes narrowed.
“Come with you?” he snarled. “I’ve a good mind to – And why are you wearing those things? You’re an impostor, a — traitor. That’s what you are. And I know what your game is – you can’t fool me.”
“My game doesn’t matter,” said I. “The point is I’m out to save yours. I’ve come from the sergeant-footman – from Grimm. The Prince is in extremis, and I’ve been sent to fetch you as quick as I can.”
The Duke was convulsed with a mirth which was rather too forced to be true.
“Oh, my aunt,” he said slowly. “Forgive me, but I guess you don’t know. Royalty aren’t fetched by footmen. An ADC, or an equerry—”
“Grieg, for instance,” said I.
He started at that. Then he pointed to the door.
“Get out of this,” he said. “If you don’t, I’ll send for the police. If I was wanted at the palace, they would have telephoned.”
“The wires have been cut.”
“Then Sully would have come and—”
“His car’s outside,” said I.
The fellow stamped his foot.
“Don’t argue,” he raved. “Get out. I tell you I know your game. You’re an adventurer – that’s what you are. Trying to worm yourself in. A common adventurer. If you aren’t, why didn’t you go? Why have you hung about here? Why—”
My temper was rising, but I strove to keep it in hand.
“Listen,” said I. “Sully’s an old friend of mine, and I’m trying to help him to—”
“It’s a lie,” yelled the Duke. “It’s nothing to do with Sully. You’re Leonie’s lover, you are. And this a plot between you, to get me out of the way.”
In a flash I had moved and had the man by the throat.
“By rights I should choke you,” I said. “Instead of that, I’m going to save your throne.” I drew my pistol and put it up to his face. “We are going downstairs and into the car outside. I shall hold this pistol under the tail of my coat. If you call upon your servants or try to bolt, as sure as I live I’ll fire.” I let him go and stood back. “Take up your hat and come.”
He was pale as death now, and without so much as a murmur he did as I said.
“I shall be behind you,” said I, “with my eyes on your back.”
He opened the door and passed out and down the stairs.
The butler saw us coming and opened the door of the house.
In the hall the Duke wavered.
“Go on,” said I, grimly.
He passed out and into the car.
Then Rowley took his seat by the chauffeur and we drove for the fosse…
Not another word passed between us until we were treading the passage in single file.
Halfway along I called upon Rowley to stop. Then I addressed the Duke.
“In a moment,” said I, “we shall be in the Prince’s wardrobe. The Prince is dying, or dead, so you will make no noise. Sully is there waiting. Presently Duke Johann will appear. We shall see that he does you no harm, so long as you hold your tongue. Whatever he says, hold your tongue and let Sully play the hand. If you don’t do this, if you don’t take your cue from Sully – in a word, if you play the fool, Johann can wring your neck, and I’ll stand by and watch him do it, with my hands on my hips.”
With that, I bade Rowley lead on, and two minutes later I saw the light from the wardrobe shining down on to the steps.
Bell was down on a knee by the side of the trap.
As the Duke passed into the wardrobe—
“Is the Prince alive?” I whispered.
“I’ve no idea, sir. Mr Hanbury’s in the bedroom, holding the door to the hall, and we were to go in at once the moment you came.”
For the fiftieth time that morning I wiped my face.
I never saw livery yet that was fit to run in, and though all the world has heard of ‘a running footman’, I fancy such men were in training and specially clad. There was no time to change my linen, but, when I asked him, Bell declared this would pass, and I can only hope that I did not look the sloven I felt.
As Bell was dusting my slippers, I heard the Grand Duchess’ voice.
“Sully is in the bedroom. Mr Hanbury wants you to enter and stand to the dining-room door.”
An instant later we were within the room.
From my place by the dining-room door I regarded the memorable scene.
The chamber was large but very simply furnished, and, except for a great pier-glass, the walls were bare. Heavy crimson curtains tempered the fresh night air, but the windows behind them were full open, and the room was agreeably cool.
On the smallest four-post bed I have ever seen lay the dying Prince.
He was raised so high with pillows that the bedclothes came but to his waist, and a white shawl of Shetland wool had been tucked about his body to take their place. His eyes were shut, and he lay as still as the marble to which he was soon to go. I could not have told if he was living, but that a doctor beside him had fingers about his wrist: yet, had I not known that he was dying, I doubt that it would have entered my head. The sting of death, the victory of the grave were not to be thought
of: on the proud old face was a look which denied such old wives’ tales: calm, careless, infinitely content, it made death seem a slight business, more like the listening to music than the leaving of life.
On his knees by the bed was the chaplain, and the nuns were kneeling behind him with lowered heads. At the head of the bed stood the doctors, one upon either side, and beside them stood Sully and Grimm, ready to catch any murmur from the lips of the man they served.
At the foot of the bed was Duke Paul, unearthly pale and standing stiffly at attention with his eyes on his great-uncle’s face. To his left the Grand Duchess was kneeling, with Madame Dresden behind. And that was all – save for the three state footmen standing before the doors.
The physicians exchanged a glance. Then one leaned towards Sully and spoke in his ear. For a moment they whispered together. Then Sully turned to Grimm.
At once the sergeant-footman stole to my side.
“The Lord Sully, sir, has told me to summon the Duke Johann.” He hesitated. “When – when it is over, please to set this door open and then yourself go directly into the dining-room. Mr Hanbury wants you to man the door to the hall.”
I nodded. Then I stood aside and opened my door…
Johann came in delicately, with Kneller and Brooch behind. He took, I think, two paces. Then he started violently and stopped in his tracks.
There were four of us penned behind him, but the man never moved.
Unable to shut my door, I watched him curiously.
I have seen men taken aback, but I have never seen anyone so manifestly confounded or so very plainly reluctant to believe his own eyes: and I must confess to a fleeting sense of triumph and the thought that, could he have seen it, Prince Nicholas would have relished the knave’s discomfiture.
For a little he gazed at Duke Paul: then he looked at Sully, and a hand went up to his head. Suddenly he noticed George Hanbury, and I saw his shock of surprise: from him he glanced to Bell, and then swung about sharply to stare upon me.
His movements were hardly human – rather were they those of a puppet which is jerked to and fro: and I think he would have stood gazing for two minutes or more, if Grimm had not made to pass by to come to the bed.
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