Chapter XIV - The Duke in the Nighttime
“Boy!”
It was a loud, slightly high pitched and tremulous voice. For a moment I thought it might be Tybalt’s mother—the voice had her imperious quality—but I discovered that it was the duke, Sigmond, who stood in the stable aisle. He stood, or rather teetered, in the light of the lamp. He wore a red and black velvet cape, which was flung askew over one shoulder, revealing that he wore a nightshirt over his britches and boots, and his cap was slapped on sideways. He lifted his chin in a dignified manner and sliced his whip through the air. “Boy!” he said. “My horse!”
He had been drinking too much, it was obvious, if not from his manner, then from his smell. His dignity and blustering did not seem quite genuine either. He seemed unsteady and uncertain, as if he did not know what he was doing and was playing the role of master for all it was worth.
I sidled up to the edge of the stall I was in, but did not come out. He banged his crop against the wall and strode over to me.
“Did you hear me?” he said. “I said get my horse.”
As he spoke he raised his whip up over his head and I saw that he was going to bring it down on Jupiter. I sprang for his arm and hauled him around and away. Jupiter suspected something was going on, and he lashed out with his hind feet. The hooves just flashed by the duke’s nose. Sigmond staggered, sat in the dust and stared at me, his jaw hanging lax.
“You saved my life,” he said. “That beast would have killed me. You saved my life.”
“It’s all right now, your grace,” I said, helping him to his feet by pushing from behind as he wavered back. He watched Jupiter and adjusted his cape.
“I owe you a great debt,” he said gravely.
“Yes, your grace,” I said. I guided him gently toward the door in hopes that he would forget what he came for and go back to bed. It was no use. As we got to the door he stopped and straightened.
“Ah, my horse!” he said. “My lad, I need my horse at once.”
I was not sure what to do. I was not going to let him near an animal, not after the way he flung that whip around, though he did seem quiet now. The quietness, however, did not last long. He noticed my hesitation.
“Get the beast at once, do you hear?” he said, giving me a shove. When I did not move any further he stepped up to me.
“What’s the matter with you? My father told you not to, is that it?” He pulled me close. He was not threatening at the moment, he only wanted me close to lean on. He whispered a strong waft of fine whisky into my face and took my jaw in one hand. “It was my father, wasn’t it?”
It would have been nice to have the authority of Prince Hugo behind me, but I thought it better to be vague.
“Those are my orders, sir,” I said. “I don’t know where they come from.”
“He doesn’t want me to do anything!” he hissed through gritted teeth, not to me or to anyone in particular. Then he turned to me. “Get my horse anyway. I’ll see that you don’t get into trouble.”
I shook my head. He released my chin and with a quick flick of the wrist he smacked me hard across the mouth. It was so quick I did not even think of ducking or striking back. I put my hand to my smarting lip, and it came away wet. My lip was bleeding. The sting, however, gave way to a hot numbness.
“I’ll get it myself,” he said, staggering away.
“No, sir, wait,” I said, following him. I wondered if I should risk leaving him unattended to get Philip. “What do you want him for?”
“None of your business, you little spy,” he said and he swung his riding crop at me. This time I ducked and shoved him aside so I could run to get Philip. That only made him madder. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and began to shake me. Then he had both hands around my neck in a grip I could not pull loose from.
“Sigmond! What on earth?” Tybalt was there at my elbow. He took Sigmond’s arm and pulled us apart. “Strangling the servants? I’ll take care of this,” he added to me.
“Let me be!” said Sigmond.
“Cousin, you should know better than to rouse the help. Albert, go back to bed.” He turned and gestured me away. I backed off a few steps. “What are you doing?”
“I know you’re hiding things from me,” the duke said. “I’m going to see her for myself.”
“Quiet, you fool.”
“I won’t be your pawn!” Sigmond raised his voice as Tybalt’s got quieter.
“Of course not, you’re Hugo’s pawn,” said Tybalt gently. “I’m on your side in this. Now come away.”
“I’ll see her.”
“In the morning.”
“Now! My neck is in this too.”
“Yes, your neck is in it. Do you want to tell the world? Come away.” Tybalt finally succeeded in moving Sigmond, and he gestured again for me to leave when he noticed I had not. He watched me go into my room.
Inside I pressed my ear to the door and listened to the vague sounds of voices as they drifted away. In a moment they came back. I heard them outside my door.
“Then I’m coming as well,” Tybalt was saying. He knocked on my door. I opened it at once.
“Get my horse,” said the duke.
“A horse and trap,” corrected Tybalt. He bent down. “I’ll see there’s no trouble with the horse.”
“I’ll have to rouse Philip.”
“If you must.”
I had hopes that I could get one of the other boys to run and tell the marquis while I delayed the harnessing of the horse as long as possible. That plan fizzled, however, when Tybalt followed me to Philip’s room.
He and Sigmond both watched until we had the trap in the stableyard, and Philip in the driver’s seat. Tybalt was having none of that.
“Come down from there,” said Tybalt. “I’m driving myself.” He climbed in and urged the horse to a fast trot.
He would be too long gone to follow by the time I could get to the marquis. Could I follow myself? Did I even have the time to get Jupiter?
The trap passed me and I noticed the little plate at the back for the footman to stand on. I grabbed hold of the back and swung up to sit on it. Philip cocked his head in surprise and I gestured to him. I could not shout or Tybalt and the duke would hear me. I cupped my hands around my mouth.
“Tell the marquis,” I whispered. Philip leaned forward quizzically. I pointed up at the palace as the trap wheeled out of the yard.
The night was dark, but my eyes soon got used to it. It was strange seeing the world backwards as I sat behind the carriage and tried to keep track of where I was going by watching where I had been. It was not all that easy. It was a while before I even realized that we were travelling down the park road, heading east into the mountains. It was chilly, and the little foot rest made my seat numb from both its hardness and the cold metal. It was not much of a perch, and I had to hang on.
After a while the road became hilly. We went up a sudden slope, sudden to me because I could not see it coming, and I slipped right off the seat. I held with my hands and swung around, my feet hitting the ground running. I followed the trap up the hill, then when it hesitated at the top I jumped back on. Downhill was much easier. There were, however, more inclines than declines, and I found myself running behind more and more. At least the trap was slow going uphill, and it was easy to keep up if I held on tight. It kept me warm, too. I was glad for the noise of the springs and the bumpiness of the road, for they could not hear my footsteps, nor feel my weight jumping on and off.
It was my luck that we were on an incline when they turned from the park road. I would never have seen the only landmark if my back had been turned to it, for it was obscured from the other side by bushes. It was the ruinous remains of an entrance gate. The one side was perfectly square and in good shape, but the other had a curious wasp-waisted look, since some of its middle had been knocked away. It seemed an unusual enough shape that I would be able to find it
again easily.
I scrambled back on my seat as the trap turned onto the rough drive between the pillars. The drive was in terrible shape. The trap lurched and bumped so that I banged my head twice. I was afraid they had heard it, but they did not react. They were perhaps too put out by the bumps themselves to notice.
The trap then must have hit a large hole, for suddenly it lurched so hard that it shot me from my seat like a spring. I landed and skidded on the hard, uneven surface, clamping my jaw shut to stifle a cry. I looked up. The trap continued on. They had not noticed.
I rolled to my feet and limped after them. My knee was smarting more than ever. I reached down to rub it and found a hot welt growing on it. The cold night air was good for that at least, and for my lip, which had started to bleed anew. It did not hurt much though, only felt a little hot. I did not have to walk on my lip, though, and I rubbed my knee again.
The trap was out of sight now. I could hear it not far ahead, squeaking as it hit another bump. I hobbled after it, not trying to keep up. I was certain it was not going far. This looked like a drive to a house, and not a road.
Soon I saw lights blinking through the trees. The carriage came to a halt. I heard Tybalt say something, then he exclaimed in a loud, ringing voice, “Oh, cousin, really! You make all this fuss, and then you fall asleep.”
The springs creaked some more, as he climbed into the back to wake Sigmond up. It was then I rounded the bend and could see the house, three floors high, with a steeply peaked roof and attic gables. Attached to it, looking strange and alien, was a modern wing, flat roofed and made of either stone, or brick faced with plaster. The trap was pulled up front and one man held the horse, while another stood in the doorway. Tybalt was shaking Sigmond.
“Wake up, cousin,” he shouted directly in the duke’s ear. Sigmond jumped. “Come on. We’re here!”
“Where?” said Sigmond. Tybalt sat back on the side of the carriage and threw up his hands.
“Here! To see how my lady fares!” Tybalt was enjoying this.
“What lady?”
“What lady! Why, our dear Alice.”
“Alice!” Suddenly Sigmond was awake. “Yes, Alice. Where is she?” He tumbled out of the trap, right over the top of Tybalt.
“Don’t worry,” said Tybalt. “She’s not going anywhere.” Sigmond disappeared into the house, escorted by the man in the doorway. Tybalt turned to the man holding the horse.
“Why is there no guard at the gate?”
“We’re shorthanded tonight,” said the man. “Karl is sick, but we can hear any approach from here. She’d be safe hidden away before anyone could get near the house.”
Tybalt did not look happy. He gave an impatient sigh and tapped his foot.
“I know I said there should be six men in the house at all times, but it’s more important that there be one out there.”
“We’re shorthanded,” complained the man.
“If you don’t want to part with anyone else,” said Tybalt, “send cook.”
“She won’t,” said the man. “I know she won’t.”
“Well, go out there yourself, then.”
“It’s cold out there.”
“I’ll send someone to relieve you,” said Tybalt, and the man reluctantly turned to go. “Wait. Take care of the horse first. We may be here a while.”
I did not like the idea of being there a while. The man was right. It was cold. I hugged myself as Tybalt went into the house and the man jumped up on the driver’s seat and drove the trap around back.
There was nobody left out front. I took the opportunity to creep across the open yard to the side of the house. It was dark there. I pressed myself against the wall as I heard the door open again. I peeked around the corner and saw a man come out and stand by the door.
I tried to remember if Alice was the name Bartleby had mentioned when he told us about Mrs. MacGuffin. I was almost certain it was. Now I had found her.
I moved out from the wall and walked toward the back, looking up at the windows. There were lights behind some of them, but no way to tell which had the lady behind it.
At the back of the house I paused and looked around the corner. The odd new wing stuck out at a right angle at the opposite end from me. Beyond it I could see the dark form of woods, a good place for the marquis to conceal himself and troops. Now that was a good idea. If I could not find out what room Mrs. MacGuffin was in, then at least I could bring back as good a report as possible of the layout.
It looked like there was a large ditch, or even a ravine, behind the house. It was hard to see for sure in the dark. I went cautiously to examine it. A ravine could be another good place of concealment. By the sound of a stream at the bottom, it was quite deep. I crept a little closer and very nearly tumbled in. The sides were steep and abrupt. I felt down the gravelly sides.
Sounds of voices roused me from my contemplation of the ditch. I turned. They were raised voices, coming faintly from within the house. I got up and moved closer. I was sure I recognized one of the voices. It had carrying quality, just as the night when they kidnapped her.
“. . . let me be! Please tell him to let me be!”
These were the only words I could make out. The voice was strong, though the words were pleading. The other voices were men’s voices. First one that sounded like Tybalt’s mingled with her voice, then raised above them both came an angry shout of Sigmond’s. There may have been more voices, but I could not be sure. All were talking at once, and all were quarrelling.
At first I could not tell where in the house they came from, but as I moved closer I realized the room was on the top floor of the new wing, where it met with the old. There was a large tree there which obscured the window from a distance.
The voices quieted as quickly as they came. I hugged myself and shivered. A breeze was picking up, and it cooled the already cold night. I did not know how long they would be in there. I wished I could go in the house. Then I remembered the stable. There must be a stable, or at least a shelter where I could go hug a nice warm cart horse. I looked in the direction the man had driven the horse and trap, and I made out the form of a low roof.
The stable was small and it had three horses in it. Just the warmth of their bodies made it warmer than outside, but it was still cold. I began to look around for an old horse rug or something to wrap myself in. There was nothing in the stable, but on the seat of the trap I found a blanket. I climbed up on the seat and wrapped it around me. I could wait until they came for the horse, then I would jump down onto my perch.
I was not very vigilant. Within minutes I had dozed off, and I would probably have slept until they caught me had I not had a dream which reminded me that the guard at the gate would see me sitting on the back of the trap. That brought me awake. What was I to do? It was much too far to walk back, especially when I was so tired and my knee still hurt so much. I tried to think where I could catch the trap after it passed the guard, but it was no good. I did not want to walk out even that far, and I was not at all sure I could catch the trap without being caught myself.
I thought I would have to conceal myself in the stable until day, then sneak out and hope to catch a ride from some passerby. That did not seem too promising, but it was the best I could do, unless...unless I could conceal myself in the trap itself. It was a small carriage, not much room for hiding. Sometimes, however, such carriages have a box under the passenger seat for storage. I got up and tugged at the leather cushion. It came away. The space under it was not big, but big enough if I was careful about my knee. I wrapped myself snugly in the blanket and climbed in. The hard part was pulling the cushion securely into place afterward. I did not want them discovering me just because the seat was loose. It was not exactly comfortable, but it was nice and warm. I fell asleep in relative security.
I do not think I slept long. A lurch woke me up. The trap was moving a little ba
ck and forth. I heard a voice.
“Steady there, Dapple,” said a man’s voice. I was being hitched up. Soon the cart began to move forward and when it stopped I heard Tybalt’s voice.
“We’ll be moving her well after midnight,” he was saying. “But I want you fellows to be ready early tomorrow. I’ve arranged a few diversions to make it look like we’re moving her to and from other places. It isn’t too obvious, so they should fall for it. I hope, Sigmond, that you will play your part properly.”
Sigmond grumbled and the trap lurched as he climbed into it. From where I was the squeaking was very loud. I hoped I would not get a headache.
“Where is my blanket?” asked Sigmond.
“What blanket?” said Tybalt in irritation.
“I had a blanket on the way here. It’s a cold night. I don’t want to go without it.”
“It’s probably in the seat box.”
“I didn’t put it in the seat box. I left it on top of the seat,” said Sigmond peevishly. “Right here.” I heard a thump on the seat above me.
“You’ve forgotten,” said Tybalt. “Look in the seat box. Perhaps Brinker put it there.”
“I didn’t put it there,” said Sigmond. I heard sounds of someone tugging at the cushion.
“Oh, wait,” said Tybalt. “I know. Brinker was complaining about the cold. I bet he took it out front.”
“Blast him,” said Sigmond and a louder thump pushed the cushion back in place.
“I’ll send for another, shall I?”
“Never mind,” said Sigmond. “Let’s go.”
I lay back in relief and the trap bumped on.