CHAPTER XIV
ON THE RIVER
No word was spoken during this cautious, extraordinary voyageunderground. The boat drifted slowly through the narrow channel,unlighted and practically unguided. Two of the men sat at the rowlocks,but the oars rested idly in the boat. With their hands they kept thecraft from scraping against the walls.
The pseudo-Julius supported his charge in the stern of the boat; PeterBrutus sat in the bow, a revolver in his hand, his gaze bent upon theopaqueness ahead. A whispered word of encouragement now and then passedfrom the lips of the hopeful American into the ear of the almostpulseless girl, who lay up against his knee.
"We'll do it--sure!" he whispered once, ever so softly.
"Yes," she scarcely, breathed, but he heard and was thrilled. The ropehad dropped from her arms; she had taken the handkerchief from her mouthat his whispered command.
At last the boat crept out into the rainy, starless night. He drew theskirts of his own mackintosh over her shoulders and head. A subduedcommand came from the man in the bow; the oars slipped into the deep,black waters of the river; without a splash or a perceptible sound thelittle craft scudded toward midstream. The night was so inky black thatone could not see his hand before his face.
At least two of the occupants opened up their throats and lungs andgulped in the wet, fresh air. Never had anything been so glorious toTruxton King as these first tremendous inhalations of pure, free air.She felt his muscles expand; his whole body grew stronger and morevital. Her heart was pounding violently against his leg; he could feelits throbs, he could hear the quick, eager panting of her breath.
It was now that he began to wonder, to calculate against the plans oftheir silent escort. Whither were they bound? When would his chance cometo strike the final, surprising blow? Only the greatest effort atself-control kept him from ruining everything by premature action; hisexultation was getting the better of him. Coolness and patience weregreater assets now than strength and daring.
The boat turned in mid-stream and shot swiftly up the river, past theblack fortress with its scattered sentry lights, where slept a garrisonin sweet ignorance of the tragedy that was to come upon them when thesun was high. The lights of the city itself soon peeped down into therain-swept waters; music from the distant cafes came faintly to the earsof the midnight voyagers. A safe haven at their very elbows, and yetunattainable.
The occasional creak of an oar, a whispered oath of dismay, the heavybreathing of toilers, the soft blowing of the mist-that was all; noother sound on the broad, still river. It was, indeed, a night fit forthe undertaking at hand.
Truxton began to chafe under the strain. His uneasiness was increased bythe certain conviction that before long they would be beyond the city,the walls of which were gradually slipping past He could not even somuch as guess at their destination. There was also the likelihood ofencountering reinforcements, sent out to meet the boatmen, or forprotection at the time of landing. A hundred doubts and misgivingsassailed him. To suddenly open fire on the rascals went against thegrain. A dashing, running fight on shore was more to his liking. Anill-timed move would foil them even as success was in their grasp.
He considered their chances if he were to overturn the frail boat andstrike out for shore in the darkness. This project he gave up at once:he did not know the waters nor the banks between which they glided. Theywere past the walls now and rowing less stealthily. Before long theywould be in a position to speak aloud; it would be awkward for him. Thesituation was rapidly growing more and more desperate; the time was nearat hand when the final effort would have to be exerted. He slipped therevolver from his pocket; somehow he was unable to keep his teeth fromchattering; but it was through excitement, not fear.
Suddenly the boat turned to the right and shot toward the unseen bank.They were perhaps half a mile above the city wall. Truxton's mind wasworking like a trip-hammer. He was recalling a certain nomad settlementnorth of the city, the quarters of fishermen, poachers andhorse-traders: a squalid, unclean community that lay under the wallsbetween the northern gates and the river. These people, he was not slowto surmise, were undoubtedly hand in glove with Marlanx, if not sosurely connected with the misguided Committee of Ten. This being the eveof the great uprising, it was not unlikely that a secret host lay hereawake and ready for the foul observance of the coming holiday; here, atleast, chafed an eager, vicious, law-hating community of mendicants andoutcasts.
He had little time to speculate on the attitude of the denizens of thisunwholesome place. The prow of the boat grated on the pebbly bank, andPeter Brutus leaped over the edge into the shallow water.
"Come on, Julius--hand her over to me!" he cried, making his way to thestern.
As he leaned over the side to seize the girl in his arms, Truxton Kingbrought the butt of the heavy revolver down upon his skull. Brutusdropped across the gunwale with a groan, dead to all that was to happenin the next half hour or more.
King was anxious to avoid the hullaballoo that shooting was sure tocreate on shore. Action had been forced upon him rather precipitously,but he was ready. Leaning forward, he had the two amazed oarsmen coveredwith the weapon.
"Hands up! Quick!" he cried. Two pairs of hands went up, together withstrange oaths. Truxton's eyes had grown used to the darkness; he couldsee the men quite plainly. "What are you doing?" he demanded of Loraine,who, behind him, was fumbling in the garments of the unconscious Brutus.
"Getting his revolver," she replied, with a quaver in her voice.
"Good!" he said exultantly. "Let's think a minute," he went on. "Wedon't dare turn these fellows loose, even if we disarm them. They'llhave a crowd after us in two minutes." Still, keeping the men covered,he cudgelled his brain for the means of disposing of them. "I have it.We must disarm them, tie them up and set 'em adrift. Do you mind gettingout into the water? It's ankle deep, that's all. I'll keep them coveredwhile you take their guns."
"Nice way to treat a friend," growled one of the men.
"A friend? By George, it's my Newport acquaintance. Well, this is apleasure! I suppose you know that I'll shoot if you resist. Better takeit quietly."
"Oh, you'll shoot, all right," said the other. "I told them damn foolsthat a Yankee'd get the better of 'em, even if they ran a steam rollerover him two or three times. Say, you're a pippin! I'd like to take offmy hat to you."
"Don't bother. I acknowledge the tribute."
Loraine Tullis was in the water by this time. With nervous haste sheobeyed King's instructions; the big revolvers were passed back to him.
"I've changed my mind," said Truxton' suddenly. "We'll keep the boat.Get in, Miss Tullis. There! Now, push off, Newport."
"What the devil--" began Newport, but King silenced him. The boat slowlydrifted out into the current.
"Now, row!" he commanded. With his free hand he reached back and draggedthe limp Brutus into the boat. "'Gad, I believe he's dead," he muttered.
For five minutes the surly oarsmen pulled away, headed in the directionfrom which they came.
"Can you swim?" demanded King.
"Not a stroke," gasped Newport. "Good Lord, pal, you're not going todump us overboard. It's ten feet deep along here."
"Pull on your left, hard. That's right. I'm going to land you on theopposite shore-and then bid you a cheerful good-night."
Two minutes later they ran up under the western bank of the stream,which at this point was fully three hundred yards wide. The nearestbridge was a mile and a half away and habitations were scarce, as hewell knew. Under cover of the deadly revolver, the two men dropped intothe water, which was above their waists; the limp form of Peter Brutuswas pulled out and transferred to the shoulders of his companions.
"Good-night," called out Truxton King cheerily. He had grasped theoars; the little boat leaped off into the night, leaving the cursingdesperadoes waist-deep in the chilly waters.
"See you later," sang out Newport, with sudden humour.
"We'll go south," said Truxton King to the girl who s
at in the stern,clutching the sides of the boat with tense fingers. "I don't know justwhere we'll land, but it won't be up in Devil's Patch, you may restassured of that. Pardon me if I do not indulge in small talk andbonmots; I'm going to be otherwise employed for some time, Miss Tullis.Do you know the river very well?"
"Not at all," she replied. "I only know that the barge docks are belowhere somewhere. I'm sure we can get into the city if we can find thedocks. Let me take the oars, too, Mr. King. I can row."
"No. Please sit where you are and keep your eyes ahead. Can you seewhere we're going?"
"I can see the lights. We're in mid-stream, I think. It's so very darkand the wind is coming up in a gale. It's--it's going to storm. Don'tyou think we'd better try for a landing along the walls? They say theriver is very treacherous." She was trembling like a leaf.
"I'll row over to the east side, but I don't like to get too close tothe walls. Some one may have heard the shouts of our friends backthere."
Not another word passed between them for ten or twelve minutes. Shepeered anxiously ahead, looking for signs of the barge dock, which laysomewhere along this section of the city wall. In time, of course, themarooned desperadoes might be expected to find a way to pursue them, or,at least, to alarm watchful confederates on the city side of the river.It was a tense, anxious quarter of an hour for the liberated pair. Sonear to absolute safety, and yet so utterly in the dark as to what thenext moment, might develop--weal or woe.
At least the sound of rapidly working rowlocks came to the girl's ears.They were slipping along in the dense blackness beneath the walls,making as little noise as possible and constantly on the lookout for thelong, low dock.
"They're after us," grated Truxton, in desperation. "They've got word tofriends one way or another. By Jove! I'm nearly fagged, too. I can'tpull much farther. Hello! What's this?"
The side of the boat caromed off' a solid object in the water, almostspilling them into the wind-blown river.
"The docks!" she whispered. "We struck a small scow, I think. Can youfind your way in among the coal barges?"
He paddled along slowly, feeling his way, scraping alongside the bigbarges which delivered coal from the distant mines to the docks alongthe river front. At last he found an opening and pushed through. Amoment later they were riding under the stern of a broad, cargolessbarge, plumb up against the water-lapped piles of the dock.
Standing in the bow of the boat he managed to pull himself up over theslippery edge. It was the work of a second to draw her up after him.With an oar which he had thought to remove beforehand, he gave the boata mighty shove, sending it out into the stream once more.
Then, hand in hand, they edged slowly, carefully along the gravel-strewndock, between vast piles of lumber and steep walls of coal. It was onlynecessary to find the railway company's runways leading into the yardsabove; in time of peace there was little likelihood that the entrancesto the dock would be closed, even at night.
Loud curses came up from the river, proclaiming the fact that thepursuers had found the empty boat. Afterwards they were to learn that"Newport's" shouts had brought a boatload of men from the opposite bank,headed by the innkeeper, in whose place Loraine was to have encounteredMarlanx later on, if plans had not miscarried. She was to have remainedin this outside inn until after the sacking of the city on the followingday. The girl translated one remark that came up to them from theboatload of pursuers:
"The old man is waiting back there. He'll kill the lot of us if we don'tbring the girl."
By this time King had located the open space which undoubtedly affordedroom for the transfer of cargoes from the dock to the company's yardsinside the walls. Without hesitation he drew her after him up this wide,sinister roadway. They stumbled on over the rails of the "dummy track,"collided with collier trucks, slipped on the soggy chutes, but all thewhile forged ahead toward the gates that so surely lay above them.
The pursuers were trying for a landing, noisily, even boisterously. Itstruck Truxton as queer that these men were not afraid of alarming thewatchmen on the docks or the man at the gate above. Suddenly it came tohim that there would be no one there to oppose the landing of themiscreants. No doubt hundreds of men already had stolen through thesegates during the night, secreting themselves in the fastnesses of thecity, ready for the morrow's fray. It is no small wonder that heshuddered at the thought of it.
There was no one on the wharf--at least, no one in sight. They rushed upthe narrow railway chutes and through one of the numerous gateways thatopened out upon the barge docks. No one opposed them; no one wasstanding guard. From behind came the sound of rushing footsteps.Lightning flashed in the sky and the rumble of thunder broke over thedesolate night.
"They'll see us by the lightning," gasped Truxton, almost ready to dropfrom faintness and exhaustion. He was astounded, even alarmed, to findthat his strength had been so gravely depleted by confinement and lackof nourishment.
They were inside the city walls. Ahead of them, in that labyrinth offilthy streets lay the way to the distant square. His arm was now abouther waist, for she was half-fainting; he could hear her gasping andmoaning softly, inarticulate cries of despair. Switch-lights blinked inthe distance. Off to the right of them windows showed lights; the clangof a locomotive bell came to them as from a great distance.
Their progress was abruptly halted by the appearance of a man ahead,standing like a statue in the middle of the network of tracks. Theystumbled toward him, not knowing whether he was friend or foe. One lookinto their faces, aided by the flare of a yardman's lantern, and thefellow turned tail and fled, shouting as he did so.
Following a vivid flash of lightning, two shots were fired by the menwho were now plunging up through the gates, a hundred yards or moreaway. The same flash of lightning showed to King the narrow, muddystreet that stretched ahead of them, lined with low, ugly houses of anondescript character. Instead of doing the obvious thing, he turnedsharply to the left, between the lines of freight cars. Their progresswas slow; both were ready to drop; the way was dark and unknown tothem.
At last they came to the end of their rope: they were literally upagainst the great city wall! They had reached the limits of the railwayyards and were blocked on all sides by they knew not how many rows ofcars. Somewhere off to the right there were streets and houses andpeople, but they did not have the strength to try to reach them.
A car door stood open in front of them. He waited for a second flash oflightning to reveal to him the nature of its interior. It was quiteempty. Without hesitation he clambered in and pulled her up after him.They fell over, completely fagged.
A few minutes later the storm broke. He managed to close the dooragainst the driving torrents.
She was sobbing plaintively, poor, wet, bedraggled sweetheart--he calledher that, although she did not hear him.
"We've fooled them," he managed to whisper, close to her ear. "Theywon't look here. You're safe, Loraine. 'Gad, I'd like to see any one getyou away from me now."
She pressed his arm, that was all. He found himself wondering whatanswer she would give to Vos Engo when he took her to him to-morrow.To-morrow! This was the 26th! Would there be a to-morrow for any ofthem--for Vos Engo, for Tullis, for the Prince? For _her_?
"There will be time to warn them in the morning," he thought, dulled byfatigue. "We can't go on now."
"Truxton," he heard her saying, tremulously, "do you think we can doanything for them--the Prince and those who are with him? How can we liehere when there is so much to be done?"
"When the storm abates--when we are rested--we will try to get awayfrom here. Those devils know that I will give the alarm. They will havehundreds of men watching to head us off. It means everything to them.You see, I know their plans. But, Loraine, dear little girl, brave asyou are and willing as I am, we can't go on until we've pulled ourselvestogether. We're safe here for awhile. Later on, we'll try to steal up tothe city. They will be watching every approach to the Castle and to theTower, hoping to stop me in time
. We must out-fox them again. It will beharder, too, little girl. But, if I don't do any more, I pledge you thatI'll save you from Marlanx."
"Oh, I know you will. You must, Truxton."
"I'd--I'd like to be sure that I am also saving you from Vos Engo. Ihate to think of you throwing yourself away on one of these blithering,fortune-hunting noblemen." She pressed his arm again. "By Jove, it'sgreat fun being a hero, after all--and it isn't so difficult, if thegirl helps you as you helped me. It's too bad I couldn't do it all bymyself. I have always counted on rescuing you from an Ogre's castle orsomething of that sort. It's rather commonplace as it is, don't youthink?"
"I don't--know what--you're talking about," she murmured. Then she wasfast asleep.
The storm raged; savage bursts of wind rocked the little freight car;the rain hissed viciously against their frail hotel; thunder roared andlightning rent sky and earth. The weary night-farers slept withpandemonium dinning in their ears.
He sat with his back against the side of the car, a, pistol in one hand,the other lying tenderly upon the drenched hair of the girl whose headrested upon his leg. She had slipped down from his shoulder; he did nothave the desire or the energy to prevent it. At his side lay thediscarded whiskers. Manfully as he had fought against the impellingdesire to sleep, he could not beat it off. His last waking thought wasof the effort he must make to reach Dangloss with the warning.
Then the storm abated; the soft drip of rain from the eaves of the carbeat a monotonous tattoo in the pools below; the raw winds from themountains blew stealthily in the wake of the tornado, picking up thewaste that had been left behind only to cast it aside with a moan ofderision.
Something stirred in the far end of the car. A still, small noise as ofsomething alive that moved with the utmost wariness. A heavy, breathingbody crept stealthily across the intervening space; so quietly that amouse could have made but little less noise.
Then it stopped; there was not a sound inside the car except the deep,regular breathing of Truxton King. The girl's respiration was so faintthat one might have thought she did not breathe at all. Again the sly,cautious movement of a heavy body; the creaking of a joint or two, thesound of a creature rising from a crouching position to the upright;then the gentle rubbing of cloth, the fumbling of fingers in a stubbornpocket.
An instant later the bluish flame of a sulphur match struggled for life,growing stronger and brighter in the hand of a man who stood above thesleepers.