Rupert of Hentzau: From The Memoirs of Fritz Von Tarlenheim Page 7

  CHAPTER VII. THE MESSAGE OF SIMON THE HUNTSMAN

  I RECEIVED the telegram sent to me by the Constable of Zenda at my ownhouse in Strelsau about one o'clock. It is needless to say that Imade immediate preparations to obey his summons. My wife indeedprotested--and I must admit with some show of reason--that I was unfitto endure further fatigues, and that my bed was the only proper placefor me. I could not listen; and James, Mr. Rassendyll's servant, beinginformed of the summons, was at my elbow with a card of the trains fromStrelsau to Zenda, without waiting for any order from me. I had talkedto this man in the course of our journey, and discovered that he hadbeen in the service of Lord Topham, formerly British Ambassador to theCourt of Ruritania. How far he was acquainted with the secrets of hispresent master, I did not know, but his familiarity with the cityand the country made him of great use to me. We discovered, to ourannoyance, that no train left till four o'clock, and then only a slowone; the result was that we could not arrive at the castle till pastsix o'clock. This hour was not absolutely too late, but I was of courseeager to be on the scene of action as early as possible.

  "You'd better see if you can get a special, my lord," James suggested;"I'll run on to the station and arrange about it."

  I agreed. Since I was known to be often employed in the king's service,I could take a special train without exciting remark. James set out, andabout a quarter of an hour later I got into my carriage to drive to thestation. Just as the horses were about to start, however, the butlerapproached me.

  "I beg your pardon, my lord," said he, "but Bauer didn't return withyour lordship. Is he coming back?"

  "No," said I. "Bauer was grossly impertinent on the journey, and Idismissed him."

  "Those foreign men are never to be trusted, my lord. And your lordship'sbag?"

  "What, hasn't it come?" I cried. "I told him to send it."

  "It's not arrived, my lord."

  "Can the rogue have stolen it?" I exclaimed indignantly.

  "If your lordship wishes it, I will mention the matter to the police."

  I appeared to consider this proposal.

  "Wait till I come back," I ended by saying. "The bag may come, and Ihave no reason to doubt the fellow's honesty."

  This, I thought, would be the end of my connection with Master Bauer. Hehad served Rupert's turn, and would now disappear from the scene. Indeedit may be that Rupert would have liked to dispense with further aid fromhim; but he had few whom he could trust, and was compelled to employthose few more than once. At any rate he had not done with Bauer, and Ivery soon received proof of the fact. My house is a couple of miles fromthe station, and we have to pass through a considerable part of the oldtown, where the streets are narrow and tortuous and progress necessarilyslow. We had just entered the Konigstrasse (and it must be rememberedthat I had at that time no reason for attaching any special significanceto this locality), and were waiting impatiently for a heavy dray tomove out of our path, when my coachman, who had overheard the butler'sconversation with me, leant down from his box with an air of livelyexcitement.

  "My lord," he cried, "there's Bauer--there, passing the butcher's shop!"

  I sprang up in the carriage; the man's back was towards me, and he wasthreading his way through the people with a quick, stealthy tread. Ibelieve he must have seen me, and was slinking away as fast as he could.I was not sure of him, but the coachman banished my doubt by saying,"It's Bauer--it's certainly Bauer, my lord."

  I hardly stayed to form a resolution. If I could catch this fellow oreven see where he went, a most important clue as to Rupert's doingsand whereabouts might be put into my hand. I leapt out of the carriage,bidding the man wait, and at once started in pursuit of my formerservant. I heard the coachman laugh: he thought, no doubt, that anxietyfor the missing bag inspired such eager haste.

  The numbers of the houses in the Konigstrasse begin, as anybody familiarwith Strelsau will remember, at the end adjoining the station. Thestreet being a long one, intersecting almost the entire length of theold town, I was, when I set out after Bauer, opposite number 300 orthereabouts, and distant nearly three-quarters of a mile from thatimportant number nineteen, towards which Bauer was hurrying like arabbit to its burrow. I knew nothing and thought nothing of where hewas going; to me nineteen was no more than eighteen or twenty; my onlydesire was to overtake him. I had no clear idea of what I meant to dowhen I caught him, but I had some hazy notion of intimidating him intogiving up his secret by the threat of an accusation of theft. In fact,he had stolen my bag. After him I went; and he knew that I was afterhim. I saw him turn his face over his shoulder, and then bustle onfaster. Neither of us, pursued or pursuer, dared quite to run; as itwas, our eager strides and our carelessness of collisions created morethan enough attention. But I had one advantage. Most folk in Strelsauknew me, and many got out of my way who were by no means inclined to paya like civility to Bauer. Thus I began to gain on him, in spite of hishaste; I had started fifty yards behind, but as we neared the end of thestreet and saw the station ahead of us, not more than twenty separatedme from him. Then an annoying thing happened. I ran full into a stoutold gentleman; Bauer had run into him before, and he was standing, aspeople will, staring in resentful astonishment at his first assailant'sretreating figure. The second collision immensely increased hisvexation; for me it had yet worse consequences; for when I disentangledmyself, Bauer was gone! There was not a sign of him; I looked up: thenumber of the house above me was twenty-three; but the door was shut.I walked on a few paces, past twenty-two, past twenty-one--and up tonineteen. Nineteen was an old house, with a dirty, dilapidated front andan air almost dissipated. It was a shop where provisions of the cheapersort were on view in the window, things that one has never eaten but hasheard of people eating. The shop-door stood open, but there was nothingto connect Bauer with the house. Muttering an oath in my exasperation, Iwas about to pass on, when an old woman put her head out of the door andlooked round. I was full in front of her. I am sure that the old womanstarted slightly, and I think that I did. For I knew her and she knewme. She was old Mother Holf, one of whose sons, Johann, had betrayed tous the secret of the dungeon at Zenda, while the other had died by Mr.Rassendyll's hand by the side of the great pipe that masked the king'swindow. Her presence might mean nothing, yet it seemed at once toconnect the house with the secret of the past and the crisis of thepresent.

  She recovered herself in a moment, and curtseyed to me.

  "Ah, Mother Holf," said I, "how long is it since you set up shop inStrelsau?"

  "About six months, my lord," she answered, with a composed air and armsakimbo.

  "I have not come across you before," said I, looking keenly at her.

  "Such a poor little shop as mine would not be likely to secure yourlordship's patronage," she answered, in a humility that seemed only halfgenuine.

  I looked up at the windows. They were all closed and had their woodenlattices shut. The house was devoid of any signs of life.

  "You've a good house here, mother, though it wants a splash of paint,"said I. "Do you live all alone in it with your daughter?" For Max wasdead and Johann abroad, and the old woman had, as far as I knew, noother children.

  "Sometimes; sometimes not," said she. "I let lodgings to single men whenI can."

  "Full now?"

  "Not a soul, worse luck, my lord." Then I shot an arrow at a venture.

  "The man who came in just now, then, was he only a customer?"

  "I wish a customer had come in, but there has been nobody," she repliedin surprised tones.

  I looked full in her eyes; she met mine with a blinkingimperturbability. There is no face so inscrutable as a clever oldwoman's when she is on her guard. And her fat body barred the entrance;I could not so much as see inside, while the window, choked full withpigs' trotters and such-like dainties, helped me very little. If the foxwere there, he had got to earth and I could not dig him out.

  At this moment I saw James approaching hurriedly. He was looking upthe street, no doubt seeking m
y carriage and chafing at its delay. Aninstant later he saw me.

  "My lord," he said, "your train will be ready in five minutes; if itdoesn't start then, the line must be closed for another half-hour."

  I perceived a faint smile on the old woman's face. I was sure then thatI was on the track of Bauer, and probably of more than Bauer. But myfirst duty was to obey orders and get to Zenda. Besides, I could notforce my way in, there in open daylight, without a scandal thatwould have set all the long ears in Strelsau aprick. I turned awayreluctantly. I did not even know for certain that Bauer was within, andthus had no information of value to carry with me.

  "If your lordship would kindly recommend me--" said the old hag.

  "Yes, I'll recommend you," said I. "I'll recommend you to be carefulwhom you take for lodgers. There are queer fish about, mother."

  "I take the money beforehand," she retorted with a grin; and I was assure that she was in the plot as of my own existence.

  There was nothing to be done; James's face urged me towards the station.I turned away. But at this instant a loud, merry laugh sounded frominside the house. I started, and this time violently. The old woman'sbrow contracted in a frown, and her lips twitched for a moment; thenher face regained its composure; but I knew the laugh, and she musthave guessed that I knew it. Instantly I tried to appear as though I hadnoticed nothing. I nodded to her carelessly, and bidding James followme, set out for the station. But as we reached the platform, I laid myhand on his shoulder, saying:

  "The Count of Hentzau is in that house, James."

  He looked at me without surprise; he was as hard to stir to wonder asold Sapt himself.

  "Indeed, sir. Shall I stay and watch?"

  "No, come with me," I answered. To tell the truth, I thought that toleave him alone in Strelsau to watch that house was in all likelihoodto sign his death warrant, and I shrank from imposing the duty on him.Rudolf might send him if he would; I dared not. So we got into ourtrain, and I suppose that my coachman, when he had looked long enoughfor me, went home. I forgot to ask him afterwards. Very likely hethought it a fine joke to see his master hunting a truant servant anda truant bag through the streets in broad daylight. Had he known thetruth, he would have been as interested, though, maybe, less amused.

  I arrived at the town of Zenda at half-past three, and was in the castlebefore four. I may pass over the most kind and gracious words with whichthe queen received me. Every sight of her face and every sound of hervoice bound a man closer to her service, and now she made me feel thatI was a poor fellow to have lost her letter and yet to be alive. But shewould hear nothing of such talk, choosing rather to praise the little Ihad done than to blame the great thing in which I had failed. Dismissedfrom her presence, I flew open-mouthed to Sapt. I found him in his roomwith Bernenstein, and had the satisfaction of learning that my news ofRupert's whereabouts was confirmed by his information. I was also madeacquainted with all that had been done, even as I have already relatedit, from the first successful trick played on Rischenheim to the momentof his unfortunate escape. But my face grew long and apprehensive when Iheard that Rudolf Rassendyll had gone alone to Strelsau to put his headin that lion's mouth in the Konigstrasse.

  "There will be three of them there--Rupert, Rischenheim, and my rascalBauer," said I.

  "As to Rupert, we don't know," Sapt reminded me. "He'll be there ifRischenheim arrives in time to tell him the truth. But we have also tobe ready for him here, and at the hunting lodge. Well, we're ready forhim wherever he is: Rudolf will be in Strelsau, you and I will ride tothe lodge, and Bernenstein will be here with the queen."

  "Only one here?" I asked.

  "Ay, but a good one," said the constable, clapping Bernenstein on theshoulder. "We sha'n't be gone above four hours, and those while the kingis safe in his bed. Bernenstein has only to refuse access to him, andstand to that with his life till we come back. You're equal to that, eh,Lieutenant?"

  I am, by nature, a cautious man, and prone to look at the dark side ofevery prospect and the risks of every enterprise; but I could notsee what better dispositions were possible against the attack thatthreatened us. Yet I was sorely uneasy concerning Mr. Rassendyll.

  Now, after all our stir and runnings to and fro, came an hour or two ofpeace. We employed the time in having a good meal, and it was past fivewhen, our repast finished, we sat back in our chairs enjoying cigars.James had waited on us, quietly usurping the office of the constable'sown servant, and thus we had been able to talk freely. The man's calmconfidence in his master and his master's fortune also went far tocomfort me.

  "The king should be back soon," said Sapt at last, with a glance at hisbig, old-fashioned silver watch. "Thank God, he'll be too tired to situp long. We shall be free by nine o'clock, Fritz. I wish young Rupertwould come to the lodge!" And the colonel's face expressed a livelypleasure at the idea.

  Six o'clock struck, and the king did not appear. A few moments later, amessage came from the queen, requesting our presence on the terrace infront of the chateau. The place commanded a view of the road by whichthe king would ride back, and we found the queen walking restlessly upand down, considerably disquieted by the lateness of his return. In sucha position as ours, every unusual or unforeseen incident magnifies itspossible meaning, and invests itself with a sinister importance whichwould at ordinary times seem absurd. We three shared the queen'sfeelings, and forgetting the many chances of the chase, any one of whichwould amply account for the king's delay, fell to speculating on remotepossibilities of disaster. He might have met Rischenheim--thoughthey had ridden in opposite directions; Rupert might have interceptedhim--though no means could have brought Rupert to the forest so early.Our fears defeated common sense, and our conjectures outran possibility.Sapt was the first to recover from this foolish mood, and he rated ussoundly, not sparing even the queen herself. With a laugh we regainedsome of our equanimity, and felt rather ashamed of our weakness.

  "Still it's strange that he doesn't come," murmured the queen, shadingher eyes with her hand, and looking along the road to where the darkmasses of the forest trees bounded our view. It was already dusk, butnot so dark but that we could have seen the king's party as soon as itcame into the open.

  If the king's delay seemed strange at six, it was stranger at seven, andby eight most strange. We had long since ceased to talk lightly; by nowwe had lapsed into silence. Sapt's scoldings had died away. The queen,wrapped in her furs (for it was very cold), sat sometimes on a seat, butoftener paced restlessly to and fro. Evening had fallen. We did not knowwhat to do, nor even whether we ought to do anything. Sapt would not ownto sharing our worst apprehensions, but his gloomy silence in face ofour surmises witnessed that he was in his heart as disturbed as we were.For my part I had come to the end of my endurance, and I cried, "ForGod's sake, let's act! Shall I go and seek him?"

  "A needle in a bundle of hay," said Sapt with a shrug.

  But at this instant my ear caught the sound of horses cantering on theroad from the forest; at the same moment Bernenstein cried, "Here theycome!" The queen paused, and we gathered round her. The horse-hoofs camenearer. Now we made out the figures of three men: they were the king'shuntsmen, and they rode along merrily, singing a hunting chorus. Thesound of it brought relief to us; so far at least there was no disaster.But why was not the king with them?

  "The king is probably tired, and is following more slowly, madam,"suggested Bernenstein.

  This explanation seemed very probable, and the lieutenant and I, asready to be hopeful on slight grounds as fearful on small provocation,joyfully accepted it. Sapt, less easily turned to either mood, said,"Ay, but let us hear," and raising his voice, called to the huntsmen,who had now arrived in the avenue. One of them, the king's chiefhuntsman Simon, gorgeous in his uniform of green and gold, cameswaggering along, and bowed low to the queen.

  "Well, Simon, where is the king?" she asked, trying to smile.

  "The king, madam, has sent a message by me to your majesty."

  "Pray, deliver it
to me, Simon."

  "I will, madam. The king has enjoyed fine sport; and, indeed, madam, ifI may say so for myself, a better run.--"

  "You may say, friend Simon," interrupted the constable, tapping himon the shoulder, "anything you like for yourself, but, as a matter ofetiquette, the king's message should come first."

  "Oh, ay, Constable," said Simon. "You're always so down on a man, aren'tyou? Well, then, madam, the king has enjoyed fine sport. For we starteda boar at eleven, and--"

  "Is this the king's message, Simon?" asked the queen, smiling in genuineamusement, but impatiently.

  "Why, no, madam, not precisely his majesty's message."

  "Then get to it, man, in Heaven's name," growled Sapt testily. For herewere we four (the queen, too, one of us!) on tenterhooks, while the foolboasted about the sport that he had shown the king. For every boar inthe forest Simon took as much credit as though he, and not Almighty God,had made the animal. It is the way with such fellows.

  Simon became a little confused under the combined influence of his ownseductive memories and Sapt's brusque exhortations.

  "As I was saying, madam," he resumed, "the boar led us a long way, butat last the hounds pulled him down, and his majesty himself gave thecoup de grace. Well, then it was very late."

  "It's no earlier now," grumbled the constable.

  "And the king, although indeed, madam, his majesty was so gracious asto say that no huntsman whom his majesty had ever had, had given hismajesty--"

  "God help us!" groaned the constable.

  Simon shot an apprehensive apologetic glance at Colonel Sapt. Theconstable was frowning ferociously. In spite of the serious matters inhand I could not forbear a smile, while young Bernenstein broke into anaudible laugh, which he tried to smother with his hand.

  "Yes, the king was very tired, Simon?" said the queen, at onceencouraging him and bringing him back to the point with a woman's skill.

  "Yes, madam, the king was very tired; and as we chanced to kill near thehunting-lodge--"

  I do not know whether Simon noticed any change in the manner of hisaudience. But the queen looked up with parted lips, and I believe thatwe three all drew a step nearer him. Sapt did not interrupt this time.

  "Yes, madam, the king was very tired, and as we chanced to kill near thehunting-lodge, the king bade us carry our quarry there, and come backto dress it to-morrow; so we obeyed, and here we are--that is, exceptHerbert, my brother, who stayed with the king by his majesty's orders.Because, madam, Herbert is a handy fellow, and my good mother taught himto cook a steak and--"

  "Stayed where with the king?" roared Sapt.

  "Why, at the hunting-lodge, Constable. The king stays there to-night,and will ride back tomorrow morning with Herbert. That, madam, is theking's message."

  We had come to it at last, and it was something to come to. Simon gazedfrom face to face. I saw him, and I understood at once that our feelingsmust be speaking too plainly. So I took on myself to dismiss him,saying:

  "Thanks, Simon, thanks: we understand."

  He bowed to the queen; she roused herself, and added her thanks to mine.Simon withdrew, looking still a little puzzled.

  After we were left alone, there was a moment's silence. Then I said:

  "Suppose Rupert--"

  The Constable of Zenda broke in with a short laugh.

  "On my life," said he, "how things fall out! We say he will go to thehunting-lodge, and--he goes!"

  "If Rupert goes--if Rischenheim doesn't stop him!" I urged again.

  The queen rose from her seat and stretched out her hands towards us.

  "Gentlemen, my letter!" said she.

  Sapt wasted no time.

  "Bernenstein," said he, "you stay here as we arranged. Nothing isaltered. Horses for Fritz and myself in five minutes."

  Bernenstein turned and shot like an arrow along the terrace towards thestables.

  "Nothing is altered, madam," said Sapt, "except that we must be therebefore Count Rupert."

  I looked at my watch. It was twenty minutes past nine. Simon's cursedchatter had lost a quarter of an hour. I opened my lips to speak. Aglance from Sapt's eyes told me that he discerned what I was about tosay. I was silent.

  "You'll be in time?" asked the queen, with clasped hands and frightenedeyes.

  "Assuredly, madam," returned Sapt with a bow.

  "You won't let him reach the king?"

  "Why, no, madam," said Sapt with a smile.

  "From my heart, gentlemen," she said in a trembling voice, "from myheart--"

  "Here are the horses," cried Sapt. He snatched her hand, brushed itwith his grizzly moustache, and--well, I am not sure I heard, and I canhardly believe what I think I heard. But I will set it down for what itis worth. I think he said, "Bless your sweet face, we'll do it." At anyrate she drew back with a little cry of surprise, and I saw the tearsstanding in her eyes. I kissed her hand also; then we mounted, andwe started, and we rode, as if the devil were behind us, for thehunting-lodge.

  But I turned once to watch her standing on the terrace, with youngBernenstein's tall figure beside her.

  "Can we be in time?" said I. It was what I had meant to say before.

  "I think not, but, by God, we'll try," said Colonel Sapt. And I knew whyhe had not let me speak.

  Suddenly there was a sound behind us of a horse at the gallop. Our headsflew round in the ready apprehension of men on a perilous errand. Thehoofs drew near, for the unknown rode with reckless haste.

  "We had best see what it is," said the constable, pulling up.

  A second more, and the horseman was beside us. Sapt swore an oath, halfin amusement, half in vexation.

  "Why, is it you, James?" I cried.

  "Yes, sir," answered Rudolf Rassendyll's servant.

  "What the devil do you want?" asked Sapt.

  "I came to attend on the Count von Tarlenheim, sir."

  "I did not give you any orders, James."

  "No, sir. But Mr. Rassendyll told me not to leave you, unless you sentme away. So I made haste to follow you."

  Then Sapt cried: "Deuce take it, what horse is that?"

  "The best in the stables, so far as I could see, sir. I was afraid ofnot overtaking you."

  Sapt tugged his moustaches, scowled, but finally laughed.

  "Much obliged for your compliment," said he. "The horse is mine."

  "Indeed, sir?" said James with respectful interest.

  For a moment we were all silent. Then Sapt laughed again.

  "Forward!" said he, and the three of us dashed into the forest.