CHAPTER XXIX
FOR HIS COUNTRY
The minutes glided by as the two men sat together in the perfumed,shadowy darkness. From their feet the glittering canopy of lights sweptupwards to the mountain-sides, even to the stars, but a chain of slowlydrifting black clouds hung down in front of the moon, and until theireyes became accustomed to their surroundings it seemed to both of themas though they were sitting in a very pit of darkness.
"It is possible," Hunterleys whispered, after some time, "that we mayhave to wait for another hour yet."
Richard was suddenly tense. He sat up, and his foot reached for theself-starter.
"I don't think you will," he muttered. "Listen!"
Almost immediately they were conscious of some commotion in thedirection of the villa, followed by a shot and then a cry.
"Start the engine," Hunterleys directed hoarsely, standing up in hisplace. "I'm afraid they've got him."
There were two more shots but no further cry. Then they heard the soundof excited voices and immediately afterwards rapidly approachingfootsteps. A man came crashing through the shrubbery, but when hereached the fence over which, for a moment, his white face gleamed, hesank down as though powerless to climb. Hunterleys leapt to the groundand rushed to the fence.
"Hold up, Sidney, old fellow," he called softly. "We're here all right.Hold up for a moment and let me lift you."
Roche struggled to his feet. His face was ghastly white, the sweat stoodout upon his forehead, his lips moved but no words came. Hunterleys gothim by the arms, set his teeth and lifted. The task would have been toomuch for him, but Richard, springing from the car, came to his help.With an effort they hoisted him over the fence. Almost as they did sothere was the sound of footsteps dashing through the shrubs, and a shot,the bullet of which tore the bark from the trunk of a tree close athand. The car leapt off in fourth speed, Sidney supported in Hunterleys'arms. A loud shout from behind only brought Richard's foot down upon theaccelerator.
"Stoop low!" he cried to Hunterleys. "Get your legs in, if you can."
A bullet struck the back of the car and another whistled over theirheads. Then they dashed around the corner, and Richard, turning on thelights, jammed down his accelerator.
"Gee whiz! that's a bloodthirsty crew!" the young man exclaimed, hiseyes fixed upon the road. "Is he hurt?"
Roche was lying back on the seat. Hunterleys was on his knees, holdingon to the framework of the car.
"They've got me all right, Hunterleys," Roche faltered. "Listen.Everything went well with me at first. I could hear--nearly everything.The Frenchman kept his mouth shut--tight as wax. Grex did most of thetalking. Russia sees nothing in the entente--England has nothing tooffer her. She'd rather keep friends with Germany. Russia wants to moveeastward--all Persia--India. She's only lukewarm, any way, about theFrench alliance as things stand at present, and dead off any truck withEngland. There's talk of Constantinople, and Germany to march three armycorps through a weak French resistance to Calais. They talked of Franceacting to her pledges, putting her recruits in the front, taking aslight defeat, making a peace on her own account, with Alsace andLorraine restored. She can pay. Germany wants the money.Germany--Germany--"
The words died away in a little groan. The wounded man's head fell back.Hunterleys passed his arm around the limp figure.
"Take the first turn to the right and second to the left, Richard," hedirected. "We'll drive straight to the hospital. I made friends with theEnglish doctor last night. He promised to be there till three. I paidhim a fee on purpose."
"First to the right," Richard muttered, swinging around. "Second to theleft, eh?"
Hunterleys was holding his brandy flask to Roche's lips as they swungthrough the white gates and pulled up outside the hospital. The doctorwas faithful to his promise, and Roche, who was now unconscious, wascarried in. In the hall he was laid upon an ambulance and borne off bytwo attendants. Hunterleys and Lane sat down to wait in the hall. Afterwhat seemed to them an interminable half-hour, the doctor reappeared. Hecame over to them at once.
"Your friend may live," he announced, "but in any case he will beunconscious for the next twenty-four hours. There is no need for you tostay, or for you to fetch the young lady you spoke of, at present. If hedies, he will die unconscious. I can tell you nothing more until theafternoon."
Hunterleys rose slowly to his feet.
"You'll do everything you can, doctor?" he begged. "Money doesn'tcount."
"Money never counts here," the doctor replied gravely. "We shall savehim if it is possible. You've nothing to tell me, I suppose, as to howhe met with his wound?"
"Nothing."
They walked out together into the night. The bank of clouds had driftedaway now and the moon was shining. Below them, barely a quarter of amile away, they could see the flare of lights from the Casino. A womanwas laughing hysterically through the open windows of a house on theother side of the way. Some one was playing a violin in a cafe at thecorner of the street.
"Richard," Hunterleys said, "will you see me through? I have to get toCannes as fast as I can to send a cable. I daren't send it from here,even in code."
"I'll drive you to Cannes like a shot," Richard assented heartily. "Justa brandy and soda on our way out, and I'll show you some prettydriving."
They stopped at the Cafe de Paris and left the car under the trees. Bothmen took a long drink and Richard filled his pocket with cigarettes.Then they re-entered the car, lit up, and glided off on the road forCannes. Richard had become more serious. His boyish manner andappearance had temporarily gone. He drove, even, with less than hisusual recklessness.
"That was a fine fellow," he remarked enthusiastically, after a longpause, "that fellow Roche!"
"And we've many more like him," Hunterleys declared. "We've men in everypart of the world doing what seems like dirty work, ill-paid work, too,doing it partly, perhaps, because the excitement grows on them and theylove it, but always, they have to start in cold blood. The papers don'talways tell the truth, you know. There's many a death in foreign citiesyou read of as a suicide, or the result of an accident, when it's reallythe sacrifice of a hero for his country. It's great work, Richard."
"Makes me feel kind of ashamed," Richard muttered. "I've never doneanything but play around all my life. Anyway, those sort of things don'tcome to us in our country. America's too powerful and too isolated toneed help of that description. We shouldn't have any use for politiciansof your class, or for Secret Service men."
"If you're in earnest," Hunterleys advised, "you go to Washington andask them about it some day. The time's coming, if it hasn't alreadyarrived, when your country will have to develop a different class ofpoliticians. You see, whether she wants it or not, she is coming intotouch, through Asia and South America, with European interests, and ifshe does, she'll have to adopt their methods more or less. Poor oldRoche! There was something more he wanted to say, and if it's what I'vebeen expecting, your country was in it."
"I guess I'll take Fedora over for our honeymoon," Richard decidedsoftly. "Don't see why I shouldn't come into one of the Embassies. I'm abit of a hulk to go about the world doing nothing."
Hunterleys laughed quietly.
"My young friend," he said, "aren't you taking your marriage prospects alittle for granted? May I be there when you ask Augustus Nicholas IvanPeter, Grand Duke of Vassura, Prince of Melinkoff, cousin of HisImperial Majesty the Czar, for the hand of his daughter in marriage!"
"So that's it, is it?" Lane murmured. "Why didn't you tell me before?"
Hunterleys shook his head. He gazed steadfastly along the road in frontof him.
"It wasn't to my interest to have it known too generally," he said, "andI am afraid your little love affair didn't strike me as being of muchimportance by the side of the other things. But you've earned the truth,if it's any use to you."
"Well," Richard observed, "I wasn't counting on having any witnesses,but you can come along if you like. I suppose," he added, "I shall h
aveto do him the courtesy of asking his permission, but--"
"But what?" Hunterleys asked curiously.
They were on a long stretch of straight, white road. Richard looked fora moment up to the sky, and Hunterleys, watching him, was amazed at thetransformation.
"There isn't a Grand Duke or a Prince or an Imperial Majesty alive," hesaid, "who could rob me of Fedora!"