The Puppet Crown [122]
that his dash for liberty had come to naught. He, too, held a revolver in his hand, but he dared not raise it. There was a certain expression on the trooper's face which precluded any arguing.
"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
CHAPTER XXIV
THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, expecting to be followed.
"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now march."
But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
"No, curse you!"
"Who are you, then?"
"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me these twenty minutes."
"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"
"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly willing to parley with you."
"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the devil I care how I get there."
"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise mingling with his impatience.
"No place else."
"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
"No more than you."
"But that uniform!"
"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.
"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist," with growing doubt.
"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
"What are you doing in that uniform?"
"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"
"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
"And you?" he asked.
"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?" suddenly.
"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the truth about yourself?"
"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead.
"What's the matter?"
"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"
"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"
Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures.
"And this cursed Englishman?"
"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
"And the king; is he dead?"
"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?
"If you move," the trooper said, in a mild voice; "if you utter a sound, I'll blow off the top of your cursed head!"
CHAPTER XXIV
THE PRISONER OF THE RED CHATEAU
There the two stood, mottled in the moonshine and shadow, with wild eyes and nostrils distended, the one triumphant, the other raging and impotent. Maurice was growing weary of fortune's discourtesies. He gazed alternately from his own revolver, lying at his feet, to the one in the hand of this unexpected visitant. Only two miles between him and freedom, yet he must turn back. The Colonel had reckoned without Madame, and therefore without reason. This man had probably got around in front of him when he climbed the tree. He turned sullenly and started to walk away, expecting to be followed.
"Halt! Where the devil are you going?"
"Why, back to your cursed chateau!" Maurice answered surlily.
The strange trooper laughed discordantly. "Back to the chateau? I think not. Now, then, right about face--march! Aye, toward the frontier; and if I have to go on alone, so much the worse for you. I've knocked in one man's head; if necessary, I'll blow off the top of yours. You know the way back to Bleiberg, I don't; that is why I want your company. Now march."
But Maurice did not march; he was filled with curiosity. "Are you a trooper in Madame the duchess's household?" he asked.
"No, curse you!"
"Who are you, then?"
"Come, come; this will not pass. No tricks; you have been following me these twenty minutes."
"The deuce I have!" exclaimed Maurice, bewildered. "To Bleiberg, is it?"
"And without loss of time. When we cross the Thalians I shall be perfectly willing to parley with you."
"To Bleiberg, then," said Maurice. "Since that is my destination, the devil I care how I get there."
"Do you mean to tell me that you are going to Bleiberg?" surprise mingling with his impatience.
"No place else."
"Are you a spy?" menacingly.
"No more than you."
"But that uniform!"
"I fancy yours looks a good deal like it," Maurice replied testily.
"I confess I never saw you before, and your tongue has a foreign twist," with growing doubt.
"I am sure I never saw you before, nor want to see you again."
"What are you doing in that uniform?"
"You have the advantage of me; suppose you begin the introduction?"
"Indeed I have the advantage of you, and propose to maintain it. Who are you and what are you doing here? Answer!"
There was something in the young man's aspect which convinced Maurice that it would be folly to trifle. Besides, he gave to his words an air which distinguishes the man who commands from the man who serves. Maurice briefly acquainted the young man with his name and position.
"And you?" he asked.
"I?" The young man laughed again. It was an unpleasant laugh. "Never mind who I am. Let us go, we are losing time. What is the date?" suddenly.
"The twentieth of September," answered Maurice.
"My God, a day too late!" The young man had an attack of vertigo, and was obliged to lean against a tree for support. "Are you telling me the truth about yourself?"
"I am. I myself was attempting to dispense with the questionable hospitality of the Red Chateau--good Lord!" striking his forehead.
"What's the matter?"
"Are you the mysterious prisoner of the chateau, the man they have been keeping at the end of the east corridor on the third floor?"
"Yes. And woe to the woman who kept me there! How came you there?"
Maurice, confident that something extraordinary was taking place, related in synopsis his adventures.
"And this cursed Englishman?"
"Will drain a bitter cup. Madame is playing with him."
"And the king; is he dead?"
"He is dying." Maurice's wonder grew. What part had this strange young man in this comedy, which was rapidly developing into a tragedy?