III
BEFORE THE FIRING SQUAD
They marched Barney before the staff where he urged his Americannationality, pointing to his credentials and passes in support ofhis contention.
The general before whom he had been brought shrugged his shoulders."They are all Americans as soon as they are caught," he said; "butwhy did you not claim to be Prince Peter of Blentz? You have hispasses as well. How can you expect us to believe your story when youhave in your possession passes for different men?
"We have every respect for our friends the Americans. I would evenstretch a point rather than chance harming an American; but you willadmit that the evidence is all against you. You were found in thevery building where Drontoff was known to stay while in Burgova. Theyoung woman whose mother keeps the place directed our officer toyour room, and you tried to escape, which I do not think that aninnocent American would have done.
"However, as I have said, I will go to almost any length rather thanchance a mistake in the case of one who from his appearance mightpass more readily for an American than a Serbian. I have sent forPrince Peter of Blentz. If you can satisfactorily explain to him howyou chance to be in possession of military passes bearing his name Ishall be very glad to give you the benefit of every other doubt."
Peter of Blentz. Send for Peter of Blentz! Barney wondered justwhat kind of a sensation it was to stand facing a firing squad. Hehoped that his knees wouldn't tremble--they felt a trifle weak evennow. There was a chance that the man might not recall his face, buta very slight chance. It had been his remarkable likeness to Leopoldof Lutha that had resulted in the snatching of a crown from PrincePeter's head.
Likely indeed that he would ever forget his, Barney's, face, thoughhe had seen it but once without the red beard that had so added toBarney's likeness to the king. But Maenck would be along, of course,and Maenck would have no doubts--he had seen Barney too recently inBeatrice to fail to recognize him now.
Several men were entering the room where Barney stood before thegeneral and his staff. A glance revealed to the prisoner that Peterof Blentz had come, and with him Von Coblich and Maenck. At the sameinstant Peter's eyes met Barney's, and the former, white andwide-eyed came almost to a dead halt, grasping hurriedly at the armof Maenck who walked beside him.
"My God!" was all that Barney heard him say, but he spoke a namethat the American did not hear. Maenck also looked his surprise, buthis expression was suddenly changed to one of malevolent cunning andgratification. He turned toward Prince Peter with a fewlow-whispered words. A look of relief crossed the face of the Blentzprince.
"You appear to know the gentleman," said the general who had beenconducting Barney's examination. "He has been arrested as a Serbianspy, and military passes in your name were found upon his persontogether with the papers of an American newspaper correspondent,which he claims to be. He is charged with being Stefan Drontoff,whom we long have been anxious to apprehend. Do you chance to knowanything about him, Prince Peter?"
"Yes," replied Peter of Blentz, "I know him well by sight. Heentered my room last night and stole the military passes from mycoat--we all saw him and pursued him, but he got away in the dark.There can be no doubt but that he is the Serbian spy."
"He insists that he is Bernard Custer, an American," urged thegeneral, who, it seemed to Barney, was anxious to make no mistake,and to give the prisoner every reasonable chance--a state of mindthat rather surprised him in a European military chieftain, all ofwhom appeared to share the popular obsession regarding theprevalence of spies.
"Pardon me, general," interrupted Maenck. "I am well acquaintedwith Mr. Custer, who spent some time in Lutha a couple of years ago.This man is not he."
"That is sufficient, gentlemen, I thank you," said the general. Hedid not again look at the prisoner, but turned to a lieutenant whostood near-by. "You may remove the prisoner," he directed. "He willbe destroyed with the others--here is the order," and he handed thesubaltern a printed form upon which many names were filled in and atthe bottom of which the general had just signed his own. It hadevidently been waiting the outcome of the examination of StefanDrontoff.
Surrounded by soldiers, Barney Custer walked from the presence ofthe military court. It was to him as though he moved in a strangeworld of dreams. He saw the look of satisfaction upon the face ofPeter of Blentz as he passed him, and the open sneer of Maenck. Asyet he did not fully realize what it all meant--that he was marchingto his death! For the last time he was looking upon the faces of hisfellow men; for the last time he had seen the sun rise, never againto see it set.
He was to be "destroyed." He had heard that expression used manytimes in connection with useless horses, or vicious dogs.Mechanically he drew a cigarette from his pocket and lighted it.There was no bravado in the act. On the contrary it was done almostunconsciously. The soldiers marched him through the streets ofBurgova. The men were entirely impassive--even so early in the warthey had become accustomed to this grim duty. The young officer whocommanded them was more nervous than the prisoner--it was his firstdetail with a firing squad. He looked wonderingly at Barney,expecting momentarily to see the man collapse, or at least show somesign of terror at his close impending fate; but the American walkedsilently toward his death, puffing leisurely at his cigarette.
At last, after what seemed a long time, his guard turned in at alarge gateway in a brick wall surrounding a factory. As they enteredBarney saw twenty or thirty men in civilian dress, guarded by adozen infantrymen. They were standing before the wall of a low brickbuilding. Barney noticed that there were no windows in the wall. Itsuddenly occurred to him that there was something peculiarly grimand sinister in the appearance of the dead, blank surface ofweather-stained brick. For the first time since he had faced themilitary court he awakened to a full realization of what it allmeant to him--he was going to be lined up against that ominous brickwall with these other men--they were going to shoot them.
A momentary madness seized him. He looked about upon the otherprisoners and guards. A sudden break for liberty might give himtemporary respite. He could seize a rifle from the nearest soldier,and at least have the satisfaction of selling his life dearly. As helooked he saw more soldiers entering the factory yard.
A sudden apathy overwhelmed him. What was the use? He could notescape. Why should he wish to kill these soldiers? It was not theywho were responsible for his plight--they were but obeying orders.The close presence of death made life seem very desirable. Thesemen, too, desired life. Why should he take it from them uselessly?At best he might kill one or two, but in the end he would be killedas surely as though he took his place before the brick wall with theothers.
He noticed now that these others evinced no inclination to contesttheir fates. Why should he, then? Doubtless many of them were asinnocent as he, and all loved life as well. He saw that several wereweeping silently. Others stood with bowed heads gazing at thehard-packed earth of the factory yard. Ah, what visions were theireyes beholding for the last time! What memories of happy firesides!What dear, loved faces were limned upon that sordid clay!
His reveries were interrupted by the hoarse voice of a sergeant,breaking rudely in upon the silence and the dumb terror. The fellowwas herding the prisoners into position. When he was done Barneyfound himself in the front rank of the little, hopeless band.Opposite them, at a few paces, stood the firing squad, their gunbutts resting upon the ground.
The young lieutenant stood at one side. He issued some instructionsin a low tone, then he raised his voice.
"Ready!" he commanded. Fascinated by the horror of it, Barneywatched the rifles raised smartly to the soldiers' hips--themovement was as precise as though the men were upon parade. Everybolt clicked in unison with its fellows.
"Aim!" the pieces leaped to the hollows of the men's shoulders.The leveled barrels were upon a line with the breasts of thecondemned. A man at Barney's right moaned. Another sobbed.
"Fire!" There was the hideous roar of the volley. Barney Custercrumpled for
ward to the ground, and three bodies fell upon his. Amoment later there was a second volley--all had not fallen at thefirst. Then the soldiers came among the bodies, searching for signsof life; but evidently the two volleys had done their work. Thesergeant formed his men in line. The lieutenant marched them away.Only silence remained on guard above the pitiful dead in the factoryyard.
The day wore on and still the stiffening corpses lay where they hadfallen. Twilight came and then darkness. A head appeared above thetop of the wall that had enclosed the grounds. Eyes peered throughthe night and keen ears listened for any sign of life within. Atlast, evidently satisfied that the place was deserted, a man crawledover the summit of the wall and dropped to the ground within. Hereagain he paused, peering and listening.
What strange business had he here among the dead that demanded suchcaution in its pursuit? Presently he advanced toward the pile ofcorpses. Quickly he tore open coats and searched pockets. He ran hisfingers along the fingers of the dead. Two rings had rewarded hissearch and he was busy with a third that encircled the finger of abody that lay beneath three others. It would not come off. He pulledand tugged, and then he drew a knife from his pocket.
But he did not sever the digit. Instead he shrank back with amuffled scream of terror. The corpse that he would have mutilatedhad staggered suddenly to its feet, flinging the dead bodies to oneside as it rose.
"You fiend!" broke from the lips of the dead man, and the ghoulturned and fled, gibbering in his fright.
The tramp of soldiers in the street beyond ceased suddenly at thesound from within the factory yard. It was a detail of the guardmarching to the relief of sentries. A moment later the gates swungopen and a score of soldiers entered. They saw a figure dodgingtoward the wall a dozen paces from them, but they did not see theother that ran swiftly around the corner of the factory.
This other was Barney Custer of Beatrice. When the command to firehad been given to the squad of riflemen, a single bullet had creasedthe top of his head, stunning him. All day he had lain thereunconscious. It had been the tugging of the ghoul at his ring thathad roused him to life at last.
Behind him, as he scurried around the end of the factory building,he heard the scattering fire of half a dozen rifles, followed by ascream--the fleeing hyena had been hit. Barney crouched in theshadow of a pile of junk. He heard the voices of soldiers as theygathered about the wounded man, questioning him, and a moment laterthe imperious tones of an officer issuing instructions to his men tosearch the yard. That he must be discovered seemed a certainty tothe American. He crouched further back in the shadows close to thewall, stepping with the utmost caution.
Presently to his chagrin his foot touched the metal cover of amanhole; there was a resultant rattling that smote upon Barney'sears and nerves with all the hideous clatter of a boiler shop. Hehalted, petrified, for an instant. He was no coward, but after beingso near death, life had never looked more inviting, and he knew thatto be discovered meant certain extinction this time.
The soldiers were circling the building. Already he could hear themnearing his position. In another moment they would round the cornerof the building and be upon him. For an instant he contemplated abold rush for the fence. In fact, he had gathered himself for theleaping start and the quick sprint across the open under the nosesof the soldiers who still remained beside the dying ghoul, when hismind suddenly reverted to the manhole beneath his feet. Here lay ahiding place, at least until the soldiers had departed.
Barney stooped and raised the heavy lid, sliding it to one side.How deep was the black chasm beneath he could not even guess.Doubtless it led into a coal bunker, or it might open over a pit ofgreat depth. There was no way to discover other than to plumb theabyss with his body. Above was death--below, a chance of safety.
The soldiers were quite close when Barney lowered himself throughthe manhole. Clinging with his fingers to the upper edge his feetstill swung in space. How far beneath was the bottom? He heard thescraping of the heavy shoes of the searchers close above him, andthen he closed his eyes, released the grasp of his fingers, anddropped.
The Mad King Page 15
