CHAPTER XXII
A MEANS OF ESCAPE
In the valley of Bar-Leighton the climatic pendulum had swung again. Aradiant sort of Indian summer seemed to have definitely set in. Now thesun was shining, and fleecy clouds swept along the bosom of a brisksoutheasterly breeze.
But the sinister genius of the place remained unchanging. It would havebeen optimism of a superlative order to claim that Prince von Bergerever really changed. For those in contact with him it was impossible tobelieve him capable of warmth or feeling. Even Ludwig von Salzinger,whose human feelings were of a grosser, baser type, regarded him as amere mechanism, inspired by some brilliant detached evil genius. He hadno love for him, contact with him depressed him, and his prevailingemotion was one of fear.
Von Berger turned from the table at which he was sitting. He passed along document across to Von Salzinger, who was standing before the logfire crackling in the great dining-room fireplace. The Prince had readit through from beginning to end. He had read it again, and then again,so that its contents had almost been committed to memory. Von Salzingeraccepted it in a silence which was the effect of his superior'sexample. And, still following that example, he read it through with theclosest attention. Meanwhile Von Berger's dispassionate gaze was turnedupon the brilliant sunlight pouring in through the wide and loftywindow, which opened out upon a vista of parkland and rolling grass.
It was a written report from Johann Stryj, and it had been deliveredthat morning by hand.
"By the time this report reaches your Excellency the completion of ourplans of destruction will have been reached. They will have been putinto operation. The drawing office, where all plans and designs arelocked in a strong-room, has been a simple enough matter to arrange.One of our agents works in that department. The development there istimed for 6 A. M. on the morning you will receive this. It iscertain--certain as anything human can be.
"With regard to the docks and slipways there has been greaterdifficulty, infinitely more so, since these are under direct officialcontrol. However, we have seven agents amongst the operatives, andthree of our different points of attack are under the immediateforemanship of Heuferman himself, upon whom I wish to report mostfavorably. The explosions here are to be synchronized with the others.
"In the case of the other matter I have a less satisfactory report tomake. Our man certainly landed somewhere on the coast in this region.He was certainly traced to one night's shelter at a certain house, ofwhose identity your Excellency is aware. The house was penetrated andsearched, but the man had taken his departure. There is a possibilityhe has made his way to London, and our agents there are using everyendeavor to trace him. I have as yet received no report from them. Myown impression, not based upon evidence, is that he is concealed in ourown neighborhood. If this be so I hope later to have a good report tomake on the matter to your Excellency.
"The movements of the Englishmen are simple to follow. They are bothclosely watched. The elder remains here attendant upon the work ofconstruction. He is in our hands at any moment, at your Excellency'scommands. The younger, too, can be dealt with effectually. He passesfrequently between here and London, and at both ends, and on thejourney, he is closely observed. It has now been ascertained that he isworking with Scotland Yard in the interests of the woman. But on theresult of this combination I have instructed the man on the spot toreport himself directly to your Excellency, in accordance with yourorders. I understand, however, and would call your Excellency'sattention--most earnest attention--to the matter that three of our menin that neighborhood are closely shadowed by men from Scotland Yard.Consequently their services are denied us. These men can be relied on,of course, to give no information, but it points the energy behind thesearch for the woman and the direction of the suspicions aroused.
"My next report to your Excellency I hope will be on the result of ourendeavors here.
"Your obedient servant, "K 1."
Von Salzinger raised his eyes from the paper. They encountered theprofile of the Prince. He regarded it for some moments withoutfriendliness. Then he changed his expression to one of officialcordiality.
"Stryj is a capable man," he hazarded.
The reply came without a change in the direction of the Prince's gaze.
"He seems successful in the things of lesser importance. Von Hertzwohlhas slipped through his fingers. He may be capable. We shall see. Butwe want the--body--of Von Hertzwohl. This man has made no attempt tocommunicate with his daughter--yet. Do you know what that means? Idoubt if you do. It means that your first visit to her alarmed them. Itwarned the Prince, through this man Farlow, that there was danger. You,with your attempt at liaison, are responsible for that. Perhaps thatwill appeal to your--imagination. Herr von Salzinger, you have made twomistakes. The second is more serious than the first. If we do notsecure the person of this man you will be recalled to Germany."
The calmness with which he spoke robbed his words of none of theirsignificance. With his final pronouncement his cold eyes were turnedfull upon his companion, searching his gross face with a glance ofinflexible resolve.
Von Salzinger's spirit was tame. But the lash and unjust condemnationgoaded him.
"Discipline must be observed, Excellency," he said, with a thicknesswhich warned the other of the effect of his words. "If I am recalled,then I must obey. But it is the authority in Berlin which is to blamefor his escape. I came here to track this other, Farlow, and the workat his yards. Von Hertzwohl was still in the Baltic when I visited thePrincess. There was no suggestion at the time that the Berlin authoritywould be sufficiently blundering to permit his escape. It would be morejust to find the scapegoat amongst those who were responsible inBerlin. I submit that this matter was in your department, Excellency,of which you are the sole head."
Von Berger's reply came with a flicker of the eyelids.
"Those who are responsible for acts which jeopardize the ends of theFatherland will reap the consequent punishment--whoever they be. Nodistinction will be made. That is the discipline of our country, Herrvon Salzinger." Then he pointed to a chair.
The other accepted the silent order. But it was with an ill grace. VonSalzinger, for all his discipline, was no weakling. At that moment hewas ready to rebel against the iron rod which Von Berger wielded. Itwould have required but one more sting to set the man's headstrongpassions loose, whatever, in the end, it might have cost him.
But the Prince was alive to the danger signal. His understanding ofhuman nature was something more than a study--it was an instinct. Asecret purpose lay behind his charge. The value of the terror ofauthority upon a Prussian subject was well understood by him, and noneknew better than he that rank and position afforded no emancipationfrom its peculiar claims. The danger signal, however, warned him thatin the present case he was dealing with a man of hot passion andphysical bravery. To gain full effect for his charge he must notjeopardize his purpose by risking an outbreak of passion. The effectwould come after Von Salzinger's private reflection through the inborndiscipline that was his.
The two men sat facing each other. The truculent regard of VonSalzinger would not be denied. But Von Berger gave no sign. He wasentirely master of himself as always, just as he knew he was master ofthe position at the moment, and of this man.
"That which has happened to us is a greater disaster than the defeat ofour armies could have been," he said slowly. "You, as well as everybodyelse, must realize this. If you do not you must be made to. That is whyI have talked plainly. That is why you have indiscreetly permitted youranger to get the better of you. Now you must listen to me while I showyou how we can achieve that which Berlin has failed to do, and whichthis man Stryj has failed to do. I mean lay our hands upon Prince vonHertzwohl. The woman up-stairs has been condemned to death."
"To--death?"
The square figure of Von Salzinger was erect, and his eyes were alightwith a horror unusual to him. Then his feelings subsided underincredulity. "But that is a threat--merely."
Von Berger shook
his head.
"It is a reality. She will die, if we do not get her father. It is partof my plan for trapping him. The news of her death will be whisperedthrough certain channels which we know will convey it to him--whereverhe be. Listen, this is the plan, and this is the work which will beassigned to you."
Half an hour later the Prince rose from his chair and crossed to thewindow. He stood with his back towards his companion. He had talkedlong and earnestly in his cold, even voice. Now he waited.
"Well?" he said at last without looking round at the still recumbentfigure behind him. "That is the duty allotted to you. You accept theposition?"
For answer Von Salzinger sprang to his feet. His face was purple withshame. The diabolical nature of the plan had sunk deeply into thehalf-savage heart of the man and found some small grains of genuinemanhood there. Even he was revolted, and the habit of disciplinetottered and crumpled.
"No! By God, no!" he cried, with a savage clenching of the fists.
Von Berger remained gazing out at the autumn scene.
"Think again."
But no answer was forthcoming. Von Salzinger's attitude remained, onlynow it seemed as if his clenching fists were a threat to the man at thewindow.
"Think again, Herr von Salzinger. Berlin gives no second chance."
The frigidity of the words became a threat that was insupportable. VonSalzinger was a Prussian. Self-preservation counted with him before allthings. He saw every hope that had ever been his slipping from histenacious grasp. To refuse--to refuse. He knew all it meant. He mustaccept or--kill this man.
His clenching fists relaxed.
"Very good, Excellency. If those are my orders I must execute them."
"Those are your orders."
Von Berger had turned about, and Von Salzinger beheld that terriblegleam in his eyes which Vita had once so painfully witnessed.
Von Salzinger spent a bad evening with himself, and a worse night.
Curiously enough this man regarded himself as not only a man of honor,but chivalrous towards women. How he arrived at the latter conclusionwas one of those miracles of psychology which are beyond theunderstanding of the human mind. To him woman was weaker than the manwhose plaything she was set on earth to become. Man's will must be herlaw. She possessed no rights of her own. Man's strength to enforce hiswill on all weaker vessels was the only right he could understand. Thenwoman, in the nature of things, must be intended as his plaything.
But Von Salzinger drew the line hard and fast at the limits of thisunderstanding. Woman must be protected from physical harm anddiscomfort by the man whose plaything she became. As soon would he deemit right to treat ill any other of those things in life which gave himpleasure. As soon would he expect to see a child tear and rend itsfavorite toy. Woman must be cared for, woman must be sheltered from thebuffets of life outside her own little life. She must be indulged inthe feminine luxuries and pastimes. Any other course he believed wouldbe an exhibition of brutality by no means in keeping with the boastedKultur of his people. The moral and spiritual side of the woman wassomething which failed entirely to enter into his comprehension. In themoral and spiritual side of life she had no place--no place whatever.
The plan of Von Berger, and the cruel nature of the work assigned tohim, had outraged all his ideas of his peculiar form of chivalry. Tocondemn Vita to death, and wilfully carry out the sentence, failing thesuccess of their plans, was an unthinkable and useless cruelty which hefelt he could not take part in. Brutality had here exceeded itself.
So he endured a painful and troubled night as he revolved in his mindthe diabolical scheme which Von Berger had unfolded to him.
He contemplated disobedience. Yes, he contemplated defying the terriblepower which Von Berger wielded so ruthlessly. But the consequence ofsuch defiance left him panic-stricken, albeit unconvinced. He searchedfor a way out. But every mode of egress seemed barred to him. Every oneexcept---- She was so very, very beautiful.
A tempting thought possessed him, and surged through the thicklyflowing channels of the animal in him. The temptation grew and grew,and, with each passing hour, it more surely took possession of all thatwas most obstinate in him. He was yielding to it. He knew. He left VonBerger out of his calculations, he left all thoughts of the purposes ofhis Government out and thought only of himself, and this new temptationwhich dangled before his greedy eyes. Should he yield to the temptation?
His mind went back again of a sudden to the man, Von Berger, whom heknew he hated as much as he feared. It seemed so hopeless to opposehim, hopeless to oppose Berlin. Yet he felt he ought to. Then histhoughts flew again to Vita, and conjured visions of her perfectcharms--and so he fell asleep.
Vita's days and nights had become one long nightmare of terror. Theterror for herself had undermined all her confidence for her father,and in her lover's ability to succor. The hours of racking thoughtsince learning the fate awaiting herself left her beautiful face drawn,and her spirit bowed and crushed. There was no hope anywhere.
From the moment she had first recognized Frederick von Berger, a drearyhopelessness had set in, and now she knew that her worst apprehensionswere to be more than fulfilled. She knew something of the machinery hecontrolled, and she knew how hopeless it was that Ruxton, with all hismanhood and confidence, could ever hope to contend with it and defeatit. Her father, she knew, would be hunted down and--punished. Whileshe--she must inevitably fall a victim of the sentence passed upon herhere in this desolate, secret prison.
The torture she endured was insupportable. Every moment of the day shewas watched either by the hard-faced matron of the place, or by her ownmaid, Francella. She had railed at the latter for her cruel perfidy,she had appealed to the former. But in neither case had she elicitedthe smallest spark of sympathy.
The matron had merely shrugged her broad shoulders.
"You would sell our Fatherland to an enemy. You are not fit to live,"she had said, with a coldness which none can display more effectivelythan a woman.
In Francella she met only the heartless cruelty of a servant who findsit in her power to rend a late mistress.
"Some day I take my children to the grave of the woman who would havebetrayed our country, and I make them spit upon it."
So Vita was left to nurse her terror in the awful solitude and silenceof the splendid halls of this isolated mansion.
How long she might have borne it and retained sanity is doubtful. Itsurely could not have been long. With the smallest gleam of sympathy itmight have been possible to endure. But there was no sympathy. Thegloom of her outlook from her windows, the awesome grandeur of herrooms, the cold antagonism of those who waited upon her as prisonwarders,--all these things aggravated her trouble, just as they werecalculated to aggravate.
Then in the very depths of her despairing misery there suddenly shoneout a vague, flickering light of hope. It was no less than a stealthyand secret visit from Ludwig von Salzinger. It came in the night. Vitahad abandoned sleeping at night fearing lest the murder would becommitted during the hours of darkness. She had allowed her imaginationto run riot till she almost came to fear her own shadow.
She was sitting in an upright chair. She was gazing straight before herwith eyes staring upon the door. Such was her terror of the night thatshe had been reduced to this impotent watching. Her thought wasteeming, going over and over again every horrible fancy a distortedbrain could conjure. Then suddenly, in the midst of it all, shestarted. Her straining eyes dilated. She leapt from her seat and sprangbehind her chair, grasping its back, prepared to defend herself. Thedoor was slowly and silently opening.
Widely ajar it stopped. The next instant a head was thrust round it, asquare head with a shock of close-cut hair. The woman breathed a sigh,but remained ready to defend herself. She had recognized Ludwig vonSalzinger.
The man recognized her attitude, and signed to her to remain silent.His warning had instant effect. Vita drew another sigh, and her gripupon the chair-back relaxed. With eyes wide with doubt and fear she
watched the man's movements. They were stealthy and secret.
He thrust the door further open. Quickly and silently he stepped intothe room. Then, with the door still ajar, he gazed back cautiously downthe corridor beyond, in both directions. Having satisfied himself heclosed the door with the greatest care and came towards her.
"If you speak," he whispered, "don't raise your voice, or--we shall beoverheard."
"What have you come for?" demanded Vita, nevertheless obedient to hiscaution.
The man's brows went up and his eyes were urgent.
"Why, to get you out of this," he said quickly. "Do you think I canstand by while that devil Von Berger does you, a woman, to death? You,the woman I love--have always loved? God! I hate that man," he added,and an unmistakable ring of truth sounded in his final words. "Lookhere, Vita, I'm part of this diabolical machinery, I know; I can't helpit; but to submit to the murder of a woman--you--God! I can't do it--ifit costs me my own life. Oh, yes, I know what you'll think. You knowthe discipline. You know that I was forced into assisting in bringingyou here, under orders I dared not disobey. I know all that, and youmust think of me as you will, but I love you--madly--and I'll notconsent to anything that threatens your life. I tell you, I've donewith it all--all--our country. I'm going to get out of it all and fleeto America, and--take you with me. You'll come with me? Say you'll comewith me, and together we'll outwit this devil of a man. You've donenothing, nothing on earth to warrant the punishment he's preparing foryou. Your father--that's different. But you--you--oh, it's horrible.Ach! I could kill that man when I think of it, and all he has said tome yesterday of his devil's plans."
While he was speaking it seemed to Vita that it must be some angeltalking disguised in the angular, hard exterior of this Prussian. Everynerve in her body which had been so straining seemed suddenly to haverelaxed. It seemed as though years of suffering had been suddenlylifted from her poor tortured brain. She recalled how from thebeginning she had thought that if hope there were for her it must liein this very Von Salzinger who had been disgraced through her father'sand her agency. She gazed upon him now in wonder, and was half inclinedto weep with gratitude and relief.
But she restrained herself. And quite suddenly she remembered somethingelse. She remembered the man who claimed her love, and she rememberedthe love this man was now offering her. The relief of the momentchanged to doubt, and, finally, to a renewed despair.
There was only one course open to her, and she adopted it frankly andwithout restraint. She shook her head.
"I--honor you for the sacrifice you would make, but I'm afraid it'suseless. Besides, I feel it would be impossible to defeat these people.I must tell you, and by doing so I may lose forever your good-will. Ido not love you. All the love I have to give has passed from mykeeping----"
"Ruxton Farlow." There was a sharp, brutal ruthlessness in the mannerin which Von Salzinger broke in.
Vita shrank at the tone.
"Yes," she said. "I love Ruxton Farlow, and have pledged myself to behis wife."
"Wife?" There was a smile in the man's eyes which did not conceal hisjealous passion. "What chance have you of becoming his wife? None.There is only one chance--your escape from here. Your escape from herecan only be contrived by me. Am I--I going to risk my life, and all myfuture, to hand over the woman I love to--Ruxton Farlow? Vita, I amonly a man--a mere human man. I will risk all for you. I will dare eventhe vengeance of Von Berger if you but promise me. But no power onearth can make me stir a hand to deliver up all I care for in the worldto--Ruxton Farlow."
The frank, ruthless honesty of the man's denial was not without itsappeal to Vita. She even smiled a faint, gentle smile.
"It is as I said--useless. It is only as I could have expected. I couldnot hope it would be otherwise. I love Ruxton Farlow."
"Whom you can never hope to see again." Again came that savagecrudeness of method which Vita recognized as part of the man. Then hiseyes lit with a deep, primitive passion. "Oh, yes, I must seem brutal,a devil, like that Von Berger. Maybe I am, but I can see plain sense.In less than a week you will die here, murdered. How, I can only guessat. Von Berger knows no mercy. Your father is surrounded at Dorby, andwill suffer a similar fate. All your plans and schemes will befrustrated. The works at Dorby are even now destroyed. There is nopower on earth that can give you to this man you say you love. Well? Isnot life still sweet to you? Is not your father's escape also somethingto you? I tell you I can contrive these things. All I ask is that youwill marry me. Your solemn pledge. I love you, and will teach you tolove me and forget this Englishman. It is madness to refuse. It is yourone single chance of life, and you would fling it away for a shadow, adream which can never be realized."
There was something in the man's manner which appealed to Vita. Perhapsit was the rugged brutality of his force. The repugnance in which shehad held him had lessened. To her his genuineness was unmistakable. Andhe was honest enough to make no claim to generosity in the course hewas prepared to adopt at her bidding.
Von Salzinger saw something of the effect he had achieved upon her andresolutely thrust home the advantage.
"Vita," he said, lowering his voice still more, but losing nothing ofthe urgency of his manner, "I have a plan whereby I can save youboth--your father and you. Think of him, that great, but misguided man,who has lavished a world of affection upon you, and to whom you aremore than devoted. Can you let him die? Think how he will die under VonBerger's hands. I tell you, Vita, better endure the agony of death atthe hands of a common murderer a hundred times than be left at themercy of that man. Even the torture of the old Inquisition might bepreferable. He has neither soul nor conscience. And what does it meanto achieve this safety for you both? It means the sacrifice of yourlove for this Englishman. God! Is it so great a sacrifice when it cannever be fulfilled? A passing dream which must end in the tragedy ofyour murder. You say you have no love. I ask for none. That will come.I will teach you a love which this Englishman could never haveinspired. And I can give you back your life, and your father's life, inthe great country across the Atlantic. Every detail of my plans arecomplete, but it must be now or never. Do you still refuse? Do youstill desire to sacrifice your father to this selfish dream which cannever be fulfilled?"
The woman's eyes were yearning. A great struggle looked out of theirgrey depths into the passion-lit eyes of the man. The hope, oh, thehope of it all! But the price was the price of all that a woman looksforward to in life.
"Do you swear to me that my father shall be saved?" she demanded, in alow tone which thrilled to jubilance every sense in the man's body.
He flung out his arms.
"He shall leave this country with you. The fulfillment of your solemnword shall not be required of you till you are both safe across thewater. If we fail--then you have sacrificed nothing. Can I say fairer?Can you doubt my honesty of purpose after that? Ach! it maddens me withalarm and impatience to see you hesitate. For you it is safety--life.For me I risk all--everything--for a wife who has no love to give me.If I fail your present lot is nothing to what mine will be. If I hateVon Berger he has no love for me, and--he is not human."
But still Vita hesitated. It was not that she doubted this man, thoughshe knew she had little enough reason to trust him. It was the love forthe man of her choice holding and claiming her. She strove to set itaside. She tried to apply reason. But it would not be denied, and itelbowed reason at every turn.
What was life without this love of hers? No, it was nothing. Would itmatter if death came upon her and left her cold? No. It would even bepreferable to the life of terrible regret which Von Salzinger offeredher. Her father--she caught her breath. It was the one thought whichher love could not thrust aside. It was in her power to save him--ifshe would.
The struggle went on. It shone in her eyes, it was displayed in thepanting rise and fall of her bosom. The appeal of it was too great. Toleave him to his fate would be the vilest selfishness. This man hadpromised that he should leave the country with them--befor
e she becamehis wife.
She looked up. A burning excitement shone in her eyes.
"Can you communicate with my father?" she asked.
The man shook his head.
"Then how can you--save him?" she demanded sharply. "I do not knowwhere he is, and if I did wild horses would not drag his whereaboutsfrom me--even for the purpose of saving his life."
But her words did not offend.
"You do not trust me," returned the man, with a tolerant shake of thehead. "I cannot blame you either. I must prove my sincerity--later.Meanwhile the matter is simple enough. Give me your solemn pledge thatyou will become my wife as soon as we safely land across the water,you, your father and me. Then I will show you."
For another few silent moments the struggle in Vita's heart went on.Now it was a struggle of doubt and credulity. All other feeling hadyielded in that earlier struggle. Dare she trust this man? Dare she?But he was asking nothing until their safety had been assured. Hisseemed the greater risk, unless this were some diabolical plot with hissuperior, Von Berger. She could not reason it out. Reason was beyondher. Her father's safety lay in the balance. She forgot self for thetime. So she thrust her finger upon the scale.
"I solemnly pledge myself under the conditions you name," she said inlow tones.
The joy in the man's hard eyes was unmistakable, and Vita, witnessingit, understood that it was real, genuine.
"Then listen," he cried. "Communication with your father will be simpleand safe. We do not need his whereabouts. I will dictate a letter toyou--a letter of our plans and instructions. We will beat Von Berger athis own game, and once we are in America we can snap our fingers at thewhole race. I will tell you now Von Berger threatened me yesterdayagain. He it was who deprived me of my command at Borga. He it was whosuperseded me over here. He it is who has given me the life of a curever since. Now I shall pay him in a way he little suspects. I willdictate this letter for you, Vita, and when it is written you willaddress it to your father and enclose it under cover to Sir AndrewFarlow at Dorby Towers. He will see that it reaches your father. Youwill see how sure is my plan. No matter into whose hands that letterfalls it cannot betray his whereabouts to any one."
And Vita was finally convinced. She was making her sacrifice for thelife and liberty of her father, and through all the pains andhopelessness of yielding up her love for Ruxton she had the whollyinadequate assurance that, whatever it cost her, it was her simple dutyfor which even Ruxton himself would never blame her.