The Irish Witch rb-11

by Dennis Wheatley

'A million francs!' exclaimed Charles. 'That is a mint of money.'

  'Yes, fifty thousand pounds, and I had to find the money in gold at short notice. I shudder now at my own temerity. Had things gone wrong, or he gone back on his word, I should have been held responsible. Through other causes we failed to bring about a Restoration, but he sent only two divisions, instead of his whole army to join General Jourdan; so the Austrians were saved from a major defeat, which might well have put them out of the war, and that was worth the money. I got it from this Jew to whose house we are now going. I only hope that he is still alive and will prove friendly.'

  As Roger had been telling of this mission he had under­taken during the wars of the Revolution, they had re­passed the Staalhaus in the main square of the city and, after taking several wrong turnings, he recognised the entrance of the narrow street he had been looking for.

  'Ah, this is it!' he exclaimed. "Tis called the Judengasse. In the old days not only were all the Jews in the city compelled to live here but chains were actually pad­locked across this entrance to keep them in at night. It is at least one thing to be said for the Revolution that, wherever the French went, they opened up the ghettoes.'

  The street was so narrow that only a single vehicle could have been driven down it. As they advanced, Roger kept his eyes fixed on the upper storeys of the houses, from which hung signs of various designs, just visible in the starlight. Recognising one by its shape he pointed to it and said:

  'That shield is painted red. Comparatively recently this family of Jewish bankers changed their name and took a new one from the shield. They are now known as the Rothschilds.'

  As he spoke he turned and hammered with his clenched fist on the stout, iron-studded door of the house. There was no answer, so he told Charles to create a louder sum­mons by kicking the door with his riding boot.

  At length a light appeared, a grille in the door opened and a pair of dark eyes peered through. 'We are friends,' said Roger in German, 'and I wish urgently to speak with Herr Maier Amschel.'

  'To our sorrow, my master died fifteen months ago,' replied a gruff voice.

  'Then I must speak with one of his sons. You can say that I am an Englishman and that the British Treasury has already had dealings with this house through me.'

  The grille closed, there followed an interval of about ten minutes, then came the sound of bolts being drawn back and the door was opened, but only a few inches, and it remained secured by a heavy chain.

  A man in a loose robe, wearing a skull cap, surveyed them with shrewd, dark eyes and said, 'I am Anselm Maier, the senior partner of this House. Why do you come here at this hour of the night ?'

  'You will not remember me,' Roger replied, 'for it is eighteen years since I was here. But you may recall the transaction, since you and two of your brothers were with your father at the time. In four days you succeeded in securing for me a million francs-worth of gold coin against an order on the British Treasury.'

  The banker nodded. 'I do remember, because it was our first transaction of real importance with the English. And now, high-wellborn one, I vaguely recall your face.'

  As he spoke he undid the chain, opened the door and bowed them in. His servant, who stood behind him, re-locked it while he led them through his counting house to a room behind it, lit candles and begged them to be seated at a round table of finely-polished, beautifully-grained wood.

  Roger introduced himself and Charles by their proper names, then came at once to the point. ‘I am in trouble with the Prussians. They believe me to have committed a murder of which I am innocent. I was being sent under escort to Berlin to be imprisoned, but tonight Lord St. Ermins here rescued me. Owing to a severe leg wound I have for some time been unable to ride fast without incur­ring great pain, so did we take horse from the city tonight we would almost certainly be caught. Our best hope is in lying low for some days. We will then stand a much better chance of getting away. I know no-one but yourself in Frankfurt, and I have no claim on you; yet I make so bold as to ask if you will allow us to remain in hiding here.'

  Anselm Maier's expression did not change but he said quietly, ‘I think, high-wellborn one, that you do have a claim on my house. Do you recall my second younger brother, Nathan?'

  'Yes. He was then a young man of about eighteen. I have met him since, some years ago in London. He told me that he had spent some time in the north of England, and made a handsome profit in Manchester goods before moving to the capital.'

  'That is correct. But you seem to have forgotten that he consulted you when we first met on the pros­pects of making good money in England. It was on your advice that he went there, and you fulfilled your promise of putting in a good word for him with a Mr. Rose, who was then head of your Treasury.'

  Roger laughed. 'Yes, I recall that now. May I take it then that you will give Lord St. Ermins and me sanctuary for perhaps a week or so ?'

  'You will be my honoured guests, high-wellborn ones; and now permit me to offer you some refreshment.’

  Standing up, Anselm Maier left the room and returned a few minutes later, followed by his servant. A bottle of wine was opened and dishes of motzas and saffron cakes set on the table. While enjoying a splendid Hock, they talked of the war and its recent developments, oh which the Jewish banker proved to be extremely well informed.

  He said the Allies had been very tardy in their advance after Leipzig, but had now reached the Rhine in a num­ber of places. However, typhus was rampant among their troops, so it would probably be some time before they felt strong enough to cross the river. An Austrian army had entered eastern Switzerland, and a Prussian army under von Bulow had crossed die Dutch frontier. Berna­dotte had left his allies to march south and swung his Swedes north-west through Hanover, with the obvious intention of besieging and capturing Hamburg from his hated enemy Davout.

  At these last words Roger sadly shook his head and murmured to Charles, 'Had we only known, we could have remained in Hanover until the Swedes overran it. Then Bernadotte would have put us on a British ship, and in a week or so we'd have been safely home.'

  The banker went on to tell them how, after Leipzig, Napoleon's Confederation of the Rhine had fallen to pieces. The score or more of petty Princes who had licked his boots and supplied him with troops and money for a generation had hastened to transfer their allegiance to Austria. To be allowed to rule independently again in their pocket kingdoms, they had promised to raise between them a quarter of a million men.

  'It was through handling their business that the fortune of your family was founded, was it not?' asked Roger.

  'Indeed yes, high-wellborn; particularly that of the Landgrave of Hesse, whose territories are far greater than those of any of the others. He was one of the richest sovereigns in Europe, and owed the greater part of his fortune to England. Before the coming of Napoleon all the common people in the Principality were serfs. Every year the Landgrave had the young men rounded up, at times as many as twelve thousand, and sold them as soldiers to the English, who sent them to fight in the Americas. He then lent the money to the always needy King of Denmark, and we acted as his agents.'

  'Now that he is once again master in his realm, do you think this wicked traffic in men will be resumed?' Charles asked.

  Anselm Maier shook his head. 'No, high-wellborn. Having tasted freedom, the people would not submit to it. And if it did the House of Rothschild could now afford to refuse such unsavoury business. I remain at the centre of things here. My second brother, Solomon, is now well established in Vienna. Nathan, as you are aware, has already become a power in the financial world of London, and my youngest brothers, Karl and James, have recently opened branches in Paris and Naples. We have perfect trust in one another, and always act in concert. Together we decide how to utilise our now considerable resources, and always support causes that we believe will benefit humanity.'

  A grandfather clock in a corner of the room struck three o'clock. Glancing at it the banker said, 'High-wellborn ones, half
the night is already gone. Permit me to conduct you to a room where you can get some sleep.'

  They readily agreed and he took them up to a room on the third floor, in which there was a large, comfortable-looking bed. After wishing them good sleep, he added, 'I am confident that I can trust all my people, but others come to the house, so it would be best if you remained here during your stay, and I will have your meals sent up to you.'

  Having expressed their gratitude they quickly un­dressed, blew out the candles and were soon asleep.

  During the three days that followed, they were well cared for. Several times Anselm Maier came up to bring them books, talk with them and see that they had every­thing they wanted. But they were extremely worried, be­cause they had learnt that not only the Main, upon which Frankfurt stood, but the greater part of the east bank of the upper Rhine were now in the hands of the Prussians. It was certain that by this time a full description of both of them would have been circulated, and all troops ordered to keep a look-out for them. Roger's leg had suf­fered no permanent damage, except that a large piece of flesh from his calf had had to be cut away, but for many weeks he would have a limp which he would be unable

  to disguise and to put a strain upon his leg for any length of time still pained him considerably. And they were now faced with the problem of crossing both the Main and the Rhine before they could hope to be safely back in French-held territory.

  20

  In the Toils Once More

  For hours Roger and Charles discussed their problems. Even if they could cross the bridge over the Main, which would not be heavily guarded, without being recognised, Roger could not ride far enough to reach the Rhine in a single night. If they hired a coach they would have to risk the driver, or an ostler at one of the post houses realising that they were the wanted men; and in these German lands everyone was only too eager to get his own back on the hated French. If they walked, that would treble the time needed to reach the great river, and along the roads they would be exposed to the scrutiny of many more people. Even if they succeeded in reaching the Rhine, there would remain the hazard of crossing it. The river was much too broad and fast to swim it, and it was certain there would be pickets all along the banks, so it would be very difficult to steal a boat and get any distance without being fired on.

  They were still at their wits' end about the best course to take when, on the morning of December 15 th, Anselm Maier came up to see them and said:

  'During these past few days I have been trying to think of a way to get you safely out of Frankfurt so that you need not expose yourselves to possible recognition, and I think I have hit upon one, provided you are willing to put up with a certain amount of discomfort.'

  'That's very good of you,' Roger replied, 'and we'd be glad to hear what you propose.'

  'As I have informed you, the Allied armies do not by any means form a continuous line from Holland to Alsace. There are still large areas which they have not yet occu­pied, and fortresses strongly held by the French. One such is Ehrenbreitstein, which dominates the junction of the Rhine and Moselle at Coblenz. During the course of the war, my House has naturally had many dealings with the French as well as with their enemies. And for both we have frequently handled valuable consignments of works of art as well as currency. If the high-wellborn ones are prepared to lie hidden in crates for perhaps two days I could have them sent down the river by barge, consigned as precious porcelain, to my agents at Coblenz.'

  'Two days!' exclaimed Charles. 'During so long a time we would die of thirst.'

  'Nay. The crates would be roomy enough for you to feed yourselves, and both provisions and flasks of wine would be put inside with you.'

  Roger did not at all like the idea of being boxed up in what amounted to a coffin, but the banker assured him that the crate lids would be so loosely nailed down that they could be kicked off if the necessity arose.

  'What of the Prussians, though?' Roger asked. 'They control the area. Are they not likely to hold up any goods being sent down river to a city still held by the French?'

  Anselm Maier smiled and shook his head. 'I should send with the crates one of my people who would be in our secret. He would have the crates with him in a cabin on the barge and carry all the necessary documents relating to their supposed contents. The high-wellborn ones may rest assured that the House of Rothschild is now held in such respect that goods consigned by us to anywhere in Europe would never be interfered with.'

  Charles and Roger exchanged a quick glance of agree­ment, then thanked the banker for having thought of this way of getting them safely out of Frankfurt.

  That afternoon two large crates, made of light wood and measuring six feet by three feet by three feet, were brought up to the room. Both were so constructed that half-inch-wide spaces between each three side planks would let in ample air. They contained well-padded pal­liasses to lie on, pillows and supplies of food and drink. Laughing a little sheepishly to conceal their reluctance to be imprisoned in them, Roger and Charles stretched themselves out on the palliasses and listened to the lids being nailed down. By forcing their elbows against the sides of the crates, they prevented themselves from being thrown about while they were carried downstairs and loaded on to a wagon. It rumbled off over the cobbles and half an hour later they suffered further jolting as the crates were loaded on to a barge. After that they were left in silence and darkness.

  The hours that followed seemed to both of them inter­minable, each hour a day, each day a week. From time to time they managed to doze a little, but had no idea whether it was night or day. The only way in which they could break the awful monotony was to fumble blindly among the packages that had been put in with them; then, lying awkwardly on one hip, swallow food or drink; but after a while they both realised that they must resist the temptation to resort to this distraction too frequently or they would soon find that they had consumed all their supplies. Very occasionally they caught the murmur of voices, but for hour after hour the only sound they heard was their own breathing and they lay, their arms stretched out along their sides, in the darkness and silence of the grave. There were times when, only half asleep, their' minds became a prey to awful nightmares, during which they were seized with panic and for a few moments believed they had been buried alive. Then the realisation of their true situation returned to them only just in time to stop themselves from screaming and striving to batter a way out of what they had imagined to be a coffin.

  Their ordeal seemed as though it would never end, and they could hardly believe the evidence of their senses when a mutter of voices was followed by the crates being lifted. They were again subjected to considerable jolting, but welcomed it as evidence that they were at last near their journey's end. Twenty minutes later, to their unutterable relief, the crates were prised open.

  They were so stiff that at first they had difficulty in sitting up and, after being so long in darkness, were semi-blinded by the daylight. But when they had been helped out of the crates, they saw that they were in a small ware­house half-filled with other crates, trunks and boxes. "With them were two Jews. One introduced himself as having brought them from Frankfurt, the other as the Roths­child's agent in Coblenz. The latter asked if he could be of any service to them, to which Roger replied:

  ‘I should be grateful if you could get a coach to take us to Ehrenbreitstein.'

  He and Charles were then taken across a courtyard to a house and given glasses of wine, while a servant went to fetch a coach. It arrived shortly after midday, and having thanked the two Jews for their help, they drove off to the great fortress.

  Neither of them was yet fully recovered from the men­tal suffering they had endured during the past two days, but as the high castellated walls came into sight, Roger pulled himself together sufficiently to say in a low voice to Charles:

  'I shall of course, announce myself as de Breuc, but the story you gave before, on the spur of die moment, that you are my prisoner and remained with me all this time becau
se you had given me your parole, is too much to ask them to believe. As I cannot say you are an English­man and your French is so indifferent that I cannot pos­sibly pass you off as a Frenchman, it would be best, I think, if I told them that you are my orderly officer and a Bavarian who remained loyal to us after Bavaria went over to the Allies. Have you any suggestions about a name for yourself?'

  After a minute's thought, Charles said, 'What think you of Lieutenant Count von Schweibacker-Erman? That would fit in with the coronet and initials on my under­clothes should a servant chance to notice them.'

  Roger laughed for the first time in many hours. "Tis one hell of a name, but most suitable. You're a fine fellow, Charles, with a good brain as well as courage.'

  At the great gate of the fortress he paid off the coach and after a wait of three-quarters of an hour they were taken up to the office of the General commanding the garrison. Roger had never met him, but when die name of de Breuc was brought up to him he had made enquiries of his staff and now had with him a Colonel Orton of the Engineers, who had known Roger during Napoleon's second occupation of Vienna; so, in spite of his rumpled civilian clothes and unshaven face, the Major was readily able to identify him.

  Roger's story was that he and his companion had become separated from the Emperor at the battle of Leip­zig, and that he had been severely wounded during the retreat. Fortunately they were then in the neighbourhood of a house owned by a widow lady who was a relative of Count von Schweibacker-Erman. She had agreed to hide them from their enemies. His wound had then become gangrenous, and he had been so ill that they had had to lie up there for many weeks. When at last he had become fit to travel, they had made their way, mostly by night and hiding by day, toward the Rhine. Then, hearing that Coblenz was still in the hands of the French, they succeeded in reaching the city.

  In view of the disturbed state of the whole of southern Germany, the story was entirely plausible. The General accepted it and congratulated them on evading capture. He then told Colonel Orton to find suitable quarters for them, and invited them to dine with him in the Senior Officers' Mess.