Trent was annoyed next morning to learn from Hentzi that he was to accompany Pauline and the count to the links. The only redeeming thing about the expedition was that he himself could get a few strokes in the demonstration.
The count was in high good spirits and gracious to them all.
"Ah, Arlfrit," he cried, "this is my last game for two weeks. Yes, I shall be too busy playing another and a greater game. And you, too, will be busy. Tell me you know the roads to Fiume, Zengg and Agram well?"
"I could set them to music," Trent said forgetting that it was Alfred Anthony who was answering his august employer. He waited until the count drove. He saw that the autocrat broke every rule of the many which go to make a perfect drive yet sent his ball every inch of two hundred yards. Never had Count Michæl done such a thing before.
"Let us see you beat that," he said dramatically.
Trent pressed. He wanted to outdrive the other by fifty yards and ordinarily would have done so. He took too much earth and sent a rocketting ballskyward which dropped full fifty yards behind the other.
"That was very tactful of you," Pauline whispered. "His Excellency will be in a good temper the whole day."
"Do you think I tried to do that?" he asked.
"Why not?" she asked, "I only know you are of a timid disposition. I hate timid men."
"I can't help being timid," he said grinning genially, "it's my nature."
So gratified was the count by his unusual showing at the game that he did not notice how close Pauline kept to Alfred Anthony. It was nervous work for Anthony and he answered the girl abruptly trying to keep her attention on the game.
"You are two men," she said presently when Hentzi and his employer were a little ahead of them. For a moment Trent was thoroughly alarmed. What did she know?
He had always known that it was a fallacy to assume because he had seen none on his midnight wanderings that he had been unobserved. In a vast house such as Castle Radna there were nooks and crannies where frightened servants or timid guests might hide from him momentarily only to denounce him later.
"What do you mean?" he asked teeing up her ball. He had not answered her immediately.
"That you are two men. There may be three of you but I have seen two already. There is the timid, servile creature accepting a coin or a blow andeating with the servants as among his equals. I hate that man. The other is a creature that every now and then looks out of your eyes like a bird of prey. It is the man who drives the great car over the mountain passes as though it were on a smooth boulevard. It is the man who beat big Peter Sissek to the earth with tight lips and eyes that flashed. That is a man I could love."
He could feel her arm brush against his own. There was a caressing tenderness in her voice.
"Tell me, which is the real you?"
Anthony Trent looked straight ahead of him.
"If you slice your ball," he said, "you'll get into the rough. Golf, like other things is largely a matter of self control."
"I could kill you," she said, her eyes blazing.
"Think of my wife and children," he answered with a grin.
"That is why," she retorted. "The count is right. One should have only contempt for lackeys. I honor you too much as it is."
"Fine!" Trent observed, "suits me all right. How many quarterings of nobility have you Mademoiselle Pauline?"
"I at least am anartiste," she flung back at him. "To be the most graceful skater in the world and to have earned more in a week than you in a year is something which puts me as far above you as Count Michæl Temesvar."
"Absolutely," Trent agreed, "take your mashie here and go back slowly and don't look up for three seconds after hitting the ball."
Pauline was certainly a splendidly athletic woman. She held herself magnificently and was at her best this morning but merely to be with her bored the pseudo-chauffeur who had thoughts only for Daphne. Daphne could have given her two strokes a hole and a beating, he reflected. Gloom seized on him as he wondered if ever again he would see her. He was in peril in Castle Radna even as an honest worker. Peter Sissek had sworn to pay him for the beating. Half of Trent's energies were consumed in going over his car to make sure the bolts and nuts were tight and had not been loosened maliciously.
And in his position as an emissary of the Earl of Rosecarrel he was in danger of the most vivid kind. He was a spy in a house which sheltered a princeling who might yet force Europe into war. If it were discovered he possessed this secret nothing could save him. It was a sinister, dour pile of stone, this Castle Radna utterly unlike the Cornish castle with its rose gardens, its fountains and the charm of country life. He could well believe that in his present dwelling tragedies has been enacted of which no knowledge had filtered through to the larger world. Oddly enough it was during the day when he was peacefully employed as Alfred Anthony that he was most obsessed by despondency. When the servants were long abed and asleep and the silences of the early hours hung about the great corridors and halls Anthony Trent came into his own. His rubbershod feet were noiseless in the stone passagesand his two pass keys opened every locked door. He was possessed of all secrets it seemed to him. Here he was free to wander like a ghost in banquet hall and corridor. None walked so silently as he.
Pauline did not talk to him any more that morning but the count was affable.
"Ah, Arlfrit," he cried, "tomorrow your work commences. Yes. You leave for Fiume at daybreak and meet the Ungarisch-Kroatische boat. This time you will go alone as you will have a passenger beside you as you return. You will wait at theHotel de l'Europe. The boat gets to her dock at eleven and my guests will drive immediately to the motor. Make speed back for you must go to Agram and back before dinner."
"That will be going some!" Trent commented.
"For what reason do you suppose I buy a Lion car and a chauffeur if not to do what my other automobiles and chauffeurs cannot do? Why do you imagine I introduce a Londoner into my servants hall, a brawling man who assaults good Peter Sissek if not because he must travel fast and safely?"
But the count was not angry. He was in that good humor which comes to all men who having been in the habit of taking seven for a last hole make it in four. Pauline had taken six and he had not permitted his record to be clouded by allowing Trent (as Pauline suggested) to see what he could do it in.
Anthony Trent started on his trip when it was as yet hardly light. He was singularly carefree. Therepulsive Sissek was not at his side and he was free to wander about the seaport town, locate the cable offices and make certain arrangements that might contribute to future safety. That he was invariably able to make such good time was due mainly to the absence of traffic along the Maria Louisa road. Not yet had the old prosperity come back to Europe and there were more automobiles in Allenhurst, New Jersey, than all Croatia.
He was bound to admit that the group of people he took from theHotel de l'Europelived up to all the traditions of mysterious fiction. There were two men, middle aged and plainly used to power, and a very pretty vivacious dark woman of five and thirty to whom her escorts paid profound attention. The seat beside Trent was occupied by the lady's maid. The black morocco dressing case she held inexorably upon her knees was marked with a coronet. The woman was hard-faced, elderly and uncommunicative. Trent noticed that her mistress was in that deep mourning which European women affect.
Trent tried the maid in English but she made no answer at all. He strained his ears to catch what language was being talked behind him but the Lion was a car of tremendous wheel base and the passengers were removed too far from him.
Once or twice in the old days, particularly in the case of the Sinn Fein plot Anthony Trent had found his lack of knowledge of German a handicap. This linguistic failing was now remedied. He had studiedthe tongue carefully; and as languages were easily acquired by him had some fair proficiency in it.
He was not certain whether it was a trap or a genuine desire to know that made the woman after a whispered talk with the lady in black say to him suddenly, "Wenn wir nur nicht unwerfen; die Strassen sind nicht besonders hier zu Lande."
It was his first impulse to tell her that she would not be upset and that they would soon get on to the better roads. Then he remembered Alfred Anthony knew but little of any tongue but his own. He smiled at her and shrugged his shoulders.
"Try it in English," he commanded smiling. "No speak Dutch."
She did not take the trouble to answer. It was, he decided, a trap to find if he understood. Perhaps it was counted in his favor, this ignorance of continental tongues.
At Agram he fetched six other people. He found that Sissek and another chauffeur had been busy also. Hentzi, always desirous of impressing those beneath him in rank, told Trent he was to be guest tonight at a table which would hold some of the great ones of the country.
"Will Pauline be among those present?" Trent asked.
"Pauline!" Hentzi sneered, "there will be gracious, high-born ladies at the table and among these our Pauline has no part. She knows that."
"What time do you dine?" Trent asked. It was now seven o'clock and Hentzi was not in evening dress.
"At half past eight. There is one among us who likes the late dinners of the English and his likings must be obeyed even by Count Michæl."
"An Englishman?" Trent queried.
"My friend," Hentzi said impressively, "if he could take all the British and all the Americans and sink them in mid-ocean he would be entirely happy. I do not think you understand world politics, eh?"
"I follow the racing and footer news," Trent confessed. "I'm not so much on politics. A set of grafters if you ask me."
Trent spent an hour on his car. He filled the tanks with gasoline and saw that his spare tires were ready and made the little adjustments that only sensitive fingers may perform. As a rule he drove the car straight into the garage and backed out. Tonight he backed into it. There might be the sudden need to utilize every moment.
Hentzi's news was good. A dinner of state commencing at half past eight would be continued long after dark. Of necessity the count would be there and undoubtedly the officer and his royal master would grace the board. Entrance could easily be made through their room and over the courtyard to the Count Michæl's apartment. There would be time for a thorough search.
The kitchens were full of bustling maids assisting the cooks. There was so much confusion that Trent helped himself amply to what food he desired and strolled out to the garage to eat it. More than half was stowed away in his car. If he were ableto get away that night, as he hoped, it might come in handily for breakfast.
His plan was to place the treaty draft in an envelope already addressed and stamped and mail it at Fiume. After that he would take the car into Italy if possible and make for Venice whence he could come easily to England.
The servants saw him take a candle and walk wearily to his room. They remembered he had been up before dawn broke. Not one of them had any suspicions that he was aught but what he represented himself to be.
At half past ten Anthony Trent, looking through the carved oaken musicians gallery twenty feet above the floor of the banqueting hall, beheld a notable company assembled. When he saw that the prince had at his side the vivacious dark lady, he remembered that the weekly pictorial papers had often presented her to their readers. She was the daughter of a royal house lately at war with his country. To her diplomatic skill and love of intrigue was due many checks to allied plans. It was said she ruled her husband absolutely and loved him little.
Trent recognized the two men he had brought with him. They were in evening dress as was Count Michæl and decorated with many orders, of St. Stephen of Hungary among others. The military attaché bristled with medals and there were others in brilliant uniforms.
No other woman was present but the princess.Her jewels made Trent's mouth water. No doubt the maid had carried them at his side for several hours and would, for all he had to do with it, carry them back. Not for a moment dare he think of taking them. It was obvious that the count would make no outcry about the loss of the draft if that alone were taken. He would piece things together and understand the riddle of Alfred Anthony. But were the valuables of his guests taken it might be a police matter.
So great was the buzz of conversation that Trent could catch no memorable phrase. Here and there was a name he had heard of but that was all. He noticed that Hentzi was not a guest despite his boasting. This in itself was awkward for the secretary might be even now in the big room to which the master criminal was bound. He was relieved presently to observe Hentzi hovering on the outskirts of the room directing the servants, a sort of super-major-domo.
It was exactly eleven when he crossed the dark courtyard and opened one of the long French windows of Count Michæl's room. It was in darkness. A little water driven power plant supplied some of the chief rooms of Castle Radna with electric light and he was able, after screening the windows to flood the room with light. It was an apartment the counterpart in size and decoration of the one occupied by the prince, across the courtyard.
Almost the first thing Anthony Trent saw was the safe. And as he looked on it he knew his hopes werein vain and the draft of the treaty could remain there indefinitely for all his skill availed or all the knowledge of the greatest "petemen" would aid, had he possessed it.
Count Michæl Temesvar was not one of those who entrusted precious things to insecure keeping. It was a Chubbwood burglar proof safe of a type Trent had heard of but never before seen. The double-dialled cannon ball safe of the American maker was the nearest approach to this gleaming mocking thing which faced him. There was no chance that any forcing screw or wedge could damage the bolts. The locks were so protected that drilling was impossible and no nitro-glycerine could be used. The oxy-acetylene blowpipe, high explosives or electric arc were useless here. It was the last word of a safemaking firm which had been in the business for more than a century. Trent did not doubt, as he gazed at it, that there would be developed by the need of it craftsmen who could open even this. But the time was not yet.
Count Michæl Temesvar had been wise in buying the only safe in the world whose patent had been extended by the Privy Council of Great Britain. With his gloved hands Trent touched the thing lightly. The millionth chance that it might not be locked was against him. He was wasting his time. Quickly he made a methodical search of the room but found nothing that interested him.
On his own bed he sat for an hour wondering what to do. He had been so certain when speaking toLord Rosecarrel that his professional skill would accomplish what others had failed to do that this disappointment was bitter indeed.
He had wondered why the count had taken so little caution in permitting a foreigner of the same supposed nationality as Lord Rosecarrel to live in Castle Radna. It was, plainly, because the count knew perfectly well that the Chubbwood safe preserved his treasures inviolate.
Probably no living crook could break into it even though he had a year in which to work. It was undrillable, unscathed by fire and could repose at the bottom of the sea without its contents becoming damaged.
Trent's first thought of compelling the count to give up the combination by force promised an unhappy ending. Surrounded by servants and friends he would assuredly be interrupted before he could be forced to give up his secret.
Hentzi would never be entrusted with the combination. None would know it but Count Michæl. For a moment he wondered if Pauline might be dragged into it to exercise her Delilah arts on her protector.
"There must be some way out of it," Trent murmured a hundred times as he sat on his bed's edge.
Dawn was breaking as he closed his eyes. His expression was calm and untroubled. He had found his solution.
Lord Rosecarrel opened his town house in Grosvenor Place at the beginning of May for the London season. Lady Daphne observed that he had shaken off the gloom and apathy which had engulfed him for the last few years. He began to take a more vivid interest in the international situations which grew out of the Peace Conference. He began to talk to the girl again about the aims of nations with respect to Persia and indirectly with the future of India.
The earl was waiting impatiently for her one night when she came back from an opera party given in her honor by Rudolph Castoon.
"Daphne," he began abruptly, "Do you believe absolutely in thebona fidesof Anthony Trent?"
The girl felt herself coloring.
"Absolutely," she said steadily, "Why?"
"I have had a long cable from him," he returned. "A cable so extraordinary that I can hardly believe he sent it. Here it is. It is only partly in cipher for the reason the cipher code I made was not intended for a message such as this. What you would not understand I have decoded."
The girl took the slip of paper eagerly.
"At once," she read, "allow papers to announce you have decided to come from retirement and accept public office. If Temesvar wires for confirmation persist in your statement. If he threatens tell him he has not got treaty. Tell him if he has it to bring it to the prime minister. Follow these instructions implicitly otherwise I can never succeed."
"At once," she read, "allow papers to announce you have decided to come from retirement and accept public office. If Temesvar wires for confirmation persist in your statement. If he threatens tell him he has not got treaty. Tell him if he has it to bring it to the prime minister. Follow these instructions implicitly otherwise I can never succeed."
"And will you?" Daphne demanded breathlessly.
"I don't know," the earl said slowly. "It seems rather a desperate thing to do. You must have heard rumors that I have been offered the enormously important position of Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs in the cabinet that will be formed when the present government goes out of office. There will be two men there who are my enemies. There is, for instance, Rudolph Castoon whose guest you have been tonight and Buchanan who will be Home Secretary. Castoon knows I do not trust him wholly. There is always a danger in making a man of his kind Chancellor of the Exchequer. He has a brother in every great country and some of them have been our bitter enemies in the past. Buchanan, of course, exercises enormous influence through his newspapers and seems to feel a personal grievance against me."
"It was because you never would invite him here or to the castle," she answered, "although he wasforever spelling for an invitation. Thosenouveaux richesare very sensitive."
"If I accepted office," the earl went on slowly, "I should have these two men against me. And if by any ill chance it should become known that I did not destroy the draft of a treaty which was entrusted to me Buchanan would see his opportunity and use his wretched papers to the full. I should be forced out of public life. I have always been intolerant of breaches of faith and that would be remembered against me as a mark of hypocrisy."
"But Mr. Trent says Count Michæl Temesvar hasn't got the treaty," she cried, "and that meanshehas it."
Her father shook his head.
"That's just what it doesn't mean," he returned. "Mr. Trent says I am to tell Count Michæl he has not the treaty. If Trent had it he would have told me so. I am to do this risky thing in order that he may ultimately succeed. You see, Daphne, my statement to the press that I have decided to take office is part of a move in the game that another man is playing."
"But he's playing it for you," she cried.
The earl smiled.
"Is he?" he returned, "I'll admit at all events that I am the one most to be benefited if he succeeds."
"But he will succeed," she persisted. "Does he look like the kind of man to be beaten?"
"Did Captain Hardcastle look the kind of man either?" Lord Rosecarrel asked. "And you rememberpoor Piers Edgcomb the best fencer in Europe, a man with nerves of steel? I firmly believe some of the count's men killed him."
It cost the girl an effort to say what she did.
"But, dad," she reminded him, "they had no experience at, at that sort of thing."
"And this one has? That, alone, comforts me. But the odds are so tremendously against him."
"He went there knowing it."
"I am not sure that it would not be safer for you for Arthur and for me if I did go back permanently to private life. If Mr. Trent should fail—"
"You won't be implicated," she reminded him. "He has gone just as a cockney chauffeur."
"But don't you see," the earl said patiently, "that I am here invited to throw down the gauntlet to the man who has in his power what can disgrace me? Hardcastle and Sir Piers failed but their failure did not drag me into it as this scheme will do."
"Who will be foreign secretary if you refuse it?" Daphne asked.
"That impossible nonconformist person Muir who has never been farther afield than Paris and has no knowledge of Eastern affairs at all. He will undo everything I have striven for. He will play into Count Michæl's hands as a child might."
"Then isn't the chance worth taking?" Daphne asked, pointing to the cable.
"I've taken it already," the earl said, "I wanted you to reassure me. I felt a confidence utterly without logical foundation as to the ability of your Anthony Trent."
"That's splendid," she cried.
"I am not so sure," her father returned, "Daphne, you know what I mean when I say I hope Arthur's action in saving his life was not like those other actions of the poor lad which have brought dire trouble to us all. You must know that there can be no attachment between you and him."
"You'd better know it," she said quietly, "but there is what you call an attachment. As to marriage—he says like you it is impossible so I suppose it is. That's all over." She patted his gray hair affectionately. "I'm not going to marry anyone. I shall have my hands full in looking after the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs."
"My dear," he said, "you are taking this wonderfully well. I'm grateful. I ought never to have let the thing drift along as I did. I blame myself."
"I'm glad," she whispered, "You couldn't possibly understand it, but even if I never see him again I shall always be thankful to have known him."
The earl looked at her and sighed. His daughter was one of the loveliest girls in England, highly accomplished, allied to some of the great families of her own land and continental Europe and had been sought after since her coming out ball. He had hoped to see her married to some honorable man of her own class and instead she had fallen in love with an adventurer whose past—according to his own admission—made a marriage impossible.
Of late he had suffered much. The death of his wife, the loss of two sons, the many troubles Arthur'spast had brought, his enforced retirement and now Daphne's hopeless attachment. The only thing that offered him any relaxation was the possibility of getting into harness again. And that would only be attainable if Anthony Trent, that mysterious American he had grown to like, succeeded in a forlorn hope. At least he must do his part. A little wearily he took up the telephone and called a number in Downing Street where was the official residence of the prime minister, the man primarily in charge of the destinies of a great empire.
There was no telephone in Castle Radna. Every morning some one of Count Michæl's men went to Agram and brought back letters and telegrams. It fell to Anthony Trent to fetch the mail that came twenty-four hours after the conversation over the telephone with the prime minister. Among the many pieces which the postmaster placed in the double locked mail bag was a trans-continental telegram. It was the function of this big letter pouch to guard its contents from the inquisitive by locks to which only the postmaster and Hentzi had keys.
When once Trent had established this he came by night to the room where the secretary snored and made impressions of the keys and so was able to open the pouch without any forcing of the locks.
Instead of going on to Radna direct Trent turned his car into a byroad of the oak forest and steamed open the wire. It was as he feared, in code which he might be able to decipher after long study. Butif the language should be Croatian or Hungarian he would still be in the dark.
It chanced that the count was near the garage as he drove in. It was a frequent habit of Count Michæl's to walk over to the great stables where formerly his thoroughbreds had been housed and now only a few riding horses remained. He greeted "Arlfrit" with the manner that proved him to be in a good temper. Hentzi was at his side and opened the mail pouch. Instantly he passed the telegram to his master. Tinkering at some pretended indisposition of his engines Trent watched the count's face as he read.
The man fell into a sudden and roaring rage. He gesticulated, he swore and he pummelled the cringing Hentzi. His talk was in Croatian but his meaning was plain. Suddenly he turned on Trent.
"Do not put your car away," he ordered him, "You must return to Agram."
No mail was ever entrusted to the Temesvar servants. Even what was sent to Agram was sealed so that the post master alone or his assistant could unlock the bag.
In the same secluded dell of the forest Trent opened the bag a second time and read the message addressed to the Earl of Rosecarrel. "I am informed," it said, "that you have accepted office. Deny this rumor instantly. Affirmation means danger to you. Michæl Temesvar."
Trent chuckled. Things were beginning to move. Of late he had found his occupation boring. Itseemed he was always acting as a mail carrier chosen over Sissek because he made so much better time. He had no chance at golf. Pauline was away. Hentzi told him so one day when he had driven three ladies up from Fiume and learned they were all high-born and that for a time the company at the castle was distinguished.
"You would not understand what I meant," Hentzi said, loftily, "if I told you many important things are going on. When our guests have gone there may be those of Pauline's sort you may drive from Fiume. Then the air is different. For myself I prefer such company as we have at present."
"The lords and ladies?" Trent said remembering that he had seen Hentzi acting as a sort of upper servant at such a dinner.
"Exactly," Hentzi agreed. "Pauline had been ill advised enough to disobey the count. There is a guest who admired her."
"Why didn't the guv'nor biff him one same as he does you when he's mad?" Trent demanded.
"There are some to whom even Count Michæl may offer no violence," Hentzi returned in a shocked voice. "But you would not understand."
On the whole Anthony Trent was glad that the prince had been the cause of the temporary removal of Pauline. She was a menace to him. Also he rejoiced to think that the arbitrary Michæl Temesvar had his own uneasy moments.
Because Anthony Trent was more concerned in the successful outcome of his present design thanany other of his adventurous career he denied himself the pleasure of those nocturnal wanderings in the castle corridors and rooms. So that he might make Daphne happy by delivering her father from bondage he decided to take no risks which might lead to his capture. Particularly he wanted to secrete himself among the trees in green tubs and flowers of the courtyard. Although it was not to his immediate advantage to learn of the plotting which was going on under the roof which sheltered him a knowledge of it promised some interesting developments in the future.
But now that the exchange of telegrams commenced between the two old adversaries he found excitement enough in going to Agram and opening the wires. Lord Rosecarrel, he found, had acted on his instructions. He affirmed his intention to take office and when he received another more threatening telegram from Count Michæl declared that he knew the treaty was not in his possession.
Count Michæl's anger was reflected in the face of each scurrying servant of the many with whom Trent came into contact. Hentzi visited it vicariously upon one Alfred Anthony until that bellicose chauffeur reminded him that the fate of Peter Sissek was his for the asking. Later Hentzi grew confidential. He had the impression that this humble member of a dominant people looked up to him for his world knowledge and in order to impress Alfred Anthony the more made indiscreet revelations which were duly stored in the careful retentive memory of Anthony Trent.
It was from Hentzi that Trent learned of the sudden trip of their common employer to London.
"It is most inconvenient for us both," said the secretary. "For the count that he should have to leave his guests and for me that I should have to entertain them in his absence."
"I thought you liked the company of lords and ladies," Alfred Anthony said in simple tribute to his companion's parts.
"There is responsibility you could not comprehend," Hentzi returned, and left Trent to think over his plans.
So far things had travelled evenly. The test was now to come. He was reasonably certain that when Count Michæl set out for London he would have in his possession the draft of the treaty. With this he would confront a prime minister and possibly the entire cabinet. He knew well of Buchanan's dislike of Lord Rosecarrel. Had Anthony Trent been in the count's place he would never have committed the error of taking so important a document with him. Trent invariably mailed what he had taken to himself and breathed freer when the responsibility was on another's shoulders. This, of course, only when a long journey was to be made. When he had stolen the Mount Aubyn ruby in San Francisco he had mailed it to his camp in Maine and thus confounded detectives who had searched his apartment.
That Count Michæl had not adopted this plan he knew because for the past week he alone had fetched and carried mail matter. The time he hadtaken in opening the mails had to be made up by faster travelling and the Lion engine never failed him. The peasants used to point out the racing car with pride and give him road room gladly. On those tablets of memory he inscribed many interesting details that occurred in letters written by other than the count. He could read in French, German, Italian and Spanish and the letters which most interested him were in German.
Sometimes in the lonely night he wondered whether or not this knowledge might not be sufficiently important to at least three governments to win him a pardon should he ever be found out for crimes of other days. And if there should come a time when he were free from the ever haunting fear of arrest might there not be the fulfilment of his dearest wishes? He was sure Daphne would drop her title if he thought it best.
Then he put the thought from him resolutely. That was in the future and he was immediately concerned with the success of this thing he had sworn to accomplish.
Hentzi told him that Count Michæl would travel by night to Fiume there to board a Venice bound boat and catch the continental express for Paris. As none but he drove the Lion and the count preferred it and its driver the assumption was that Alfred Anthony would take him. It was on this hypothesis that the success of Trent's scheme depended. He would probably be alone. At most some servant or valet would be chosen to travel withhis master and he would of course sit next to the chauffeur.
Trent had long ago picked out a suitable spot where such a luckless person could be dumped. There was a steep grassy bank some twenty miles along the road where a man hit sufficiently deftly would roll out of reach with small possibility of injury. A little stream ran at the bottom which would revive him if stunned or drown him as the fates saw best. Stored in the Lion car was a change of apparel, some food and other necessaries.
It was Hentzi who broke the bad news. The secretary came upon the eager mechanic tuning up his engine lovingly. So engrossed was he that he neither saw Hentzi nor noticed that Peter Sissek was polishing the brass work on his Panhard.
"Getting things shipshape and Bristol fashion," Trent said, when he saw Hentzi.
"It is Peter who takes the count," the secretary said idly, "You are to go to Budapesth tomorrow. You see what it is to be considered so skillful that Count Michæl offers you to his guests and goes more slowly himself."
Then Trent noticed the grinning and triumphant Sissek. It was a black moment for him.
"Yes, Peter takes the count," Hentzi repeated.
"I think he'll have to," Trent said slowly, "for the second time."
This alteration in the schedule which for the moment promised utter disruption to his plans might have been brought about by reasons other thanthose suggested by Hentzi. It was curious that at just this critical moment Sissek should be entrusted with his master's safety and Trent given a mission which Peter Sissek with his wider knowledge of the country could better have filled.
But it was time wasting to ponder on this now. In three hours Trent would have started with his Lion. Sissek a slower driver and using an older and less speedy car must get away earlier. Almost frightened out of his accustomed calm Trent learned that the count was leaving in a little over an hour, just as the darkness would set in. What plans he could make must be made instantly. Failure was now almost at his side.
Failure! Anthony Trent groaned at thought of it; Lord Rosecarrel would be publicly humiliated. Daphne would blame him for it. With what assurance and headstrong confidence he had plunged into an adventure which had brought death to those other men! He could never face her if he failed and failure was in sight.
For a moment he thought of forcing a quarrel on Peter Sissek. Before Hentzi or others could intervene he could with his boxer's skill most certainly damage one eye if not two of a man who, to drive down dark and dangerous roads, must possess unclouded vision.
But he hesitated. If Count Michæl had chosen Sissek because Alfred Anthony was under suspicion an assault on the Croatian at the present moment might tend to confirm these doubts and he mightfind himself overpowered and under guards he could not overwhelm. To put the car out of commission was hardly possible with Sissek guarding it and another man cleaning it. And these two, it seemed to Trent, were watching suspiciously.
By some trick of fate it was Sissek himself who contributed to Trent's success. Peter was arrogant now and motioned to Trent to aid him in lifting some baggage to the top of the Panhard limousine. Like most of the continental cars it had a deep luggage rail around the top on which trunks or lesser baggage could be carried. There was a cabin trunk, a bundle of rugs and a dressing bag. Peter Sissek was astonished when Trent cheerfully obeyed him and even helped to strap the cabin trunk securely.
Hentzi was amazed at the sudden change that had taken place in the English chauffeur's attitude. He was now lively who had been gloomy, and loquacious when he had been taciturn.
"Why do you laugh," he asked.
"At the idea of Peter taking the count," said Trent. "Someday you'll know what that means."
"I know now," Hentzi insisted, "I speak perfectly and my English vocabulary is wider than could be that of a man of your position."
As Peter Sissek unaccompanied by valet or assistant drove down the hill, after leaving the pavilion at the first tee on his left, he was horrified to find a tree across his path. He dismounted, moved it aside with difficulty and proceeded on his way.
But this time he carried two passengers.
The motor had come to an abrupt stop under a big oak tree whose spreading arms reached across the mountain road.
Lying along one of those rigid oak limbs Anthony Trent, after nicely adjusting the fallen tree so that Peter Sissek's eyes would see it at the proper moment, had waited anxiously for the approach of the Panhard.
He was not sure that the powerful headlights would not pierce his leafy shelter and discover him to the watchful driver. He could imagine vividly the chauffeur warning his employer. And as Count Michæl always went armed and might even now be suspicious of his cockney servant he would very likely have no hesitation in picking him off the boughs as Anthony Trent, years before in his New Hampshire hills, had shot squirrels. If by any chance he could get to the ground, only twelve feet beneath, before he was aimed at he would have to trust to the moment's inspiration for his next move. He knew almost certainly that Count Michæl carried the document he wanted in a flat leather case which fitted into his breast pocket.
If by any chance the men did not see him and the car passed him on its seaward way his errand would be unaccomplished, his boasts vain and the humiliation of his friends certain. He had determined if this happened to send a telegram to the earl admitting defeat, and warning of the count's visit.
The Panhard came to a grinding stop a foot from the barrier. Sissek removed it as quickly as he could but it was heavy enough to have taxed Anthony Trent's superior strength! and the count grew so impatient at the time taken that he sprang down to the road and urged his man to greater activities.
The two were jabbering in Croatian when Anthony Trent lowered himself to the top of the limousine and nestled down in the shadow of the baggage.
Trent had often been incensed in reading newspaper accounts of his exploits to find that their success was so often ascribed to mere luck. He supposed it would be so this time if it were known. People would say that owing to two boulders in the side of the road Sissek pulled up so that Trent could drop directly down on to the car. In most cases the greatest luck comes to the best player and Anthony Trent had placed the rocks on the road with the same care that he would play a stroke in golf or cast along the edge of lily pads where the big trout lay in graceful ease. There was only one place where Sissek could halt his machine.
It was while the car travelled along a poor and rough section of the route before reaching the Marie Louise road that Trent unstrapped a bundle and selected a dark travelling-rug to cover him from observant eyes in the infrequent towns through which they must pass.
Half a hundred schemes raced through his quick, fertile brain only to be rejected. He wondered, forinstance, if it were possible to cut through the top of the car and get at the count who was certain to be sleeping a goodly portion of the journey. He decided that to lean over the rails and try to peer through the oval glass window in the rear would also be unwise. At most he would only catch a glimpse of the count and might just as easily be seen himself. Then he wondered if it might not be possible to drop down on Peter Sissek's shoulders and strangle him into quietness.
But Peter Sissek was taking his car along at a steady rate of twenty-five miles the hour and with his hands off the steering wheel—a certain contingency if Trent's strong fingers closed around his throat—a bad accident was inevitable. A precipice on one side and a wall of rock on the other, he would be between the deep sea and the devil.
He saw that Sissek must be eliminated at all costs. A match for either of them singly Trent would certainly be overpowered in a tussle with both; although they lacked the cat-like quickness of the American they were both of uncommon strength. The immediate problem was to get rid of Sissek and leave his master none the wiser.
There was a part of the road through which they must presently pass which promised aid to the schemer. It was a gentle rise through a very dense section of beech forest and Peter would go slowly fearing that the uneven surface would jolt his lord into unwelcome anger.
Peter Sissek, straining his eyes to see that his waywas clear, was startled when one of the pieces of baggage on the top of the car was jolted off. It fell on the Panhard's bonnet and then bounded into the side of the road. He had run past it fifty yards before he brought his machine to a stop.
When he backed up to the fallen bag Count Michæl was aroused from slumber and ascribed the accident to Peter's carelessness. In the chauffeur's apology Anthony Trent heard his assumed name brought in. Plainly Peter was making him the culprit. He had pitched the bundle from the roof with some skill. It bounded far into the shadow. Finally Peter Sissek stumbled over it. And as he stooped to retrieve it, Alfred Anthony swung at him. For the second time Peter had taken the count. To hit a defenceless, unsuspecting man was not a thing to give Trent any pleasure, but it was not a moment in which to hesitate. With Peter's livery cap and duster on, Trent took the bundle on his shoulder and carried it at such an angle that in case of scrutiny his face would be shielded from gaze.
A quick backward glance a few minutes later on showed the new driver that the count had resumed his broken slumbers. So well indeed did the lord of Castle Radna sleep that he did not know the Panhard had left the main road or that any danger threatened him until he was suddenly hauled from his springy seat to look into the clear, hard eyes of Alfred Anthony.
Then he realized that his revolver was in the cockney's hand and the precious wallet gone fromhis pocket. Count Michæl was no coward and he thought quickly with that intriguing, plotting brain of his. A great diamond still sparkled upon his finger and the money in another pocket was untouched.
"I should have been wiser," he commented. "I thought my lord Rosecarrel had become suddenly mad. Now I see that he was saner than I. First Captain the Honourable Oswald Hardcastle, then Sir Piers Edgcomb and now you. May I ask your name and rank? You have been my servant and succeeded so far where they failed?"
Anthony Trent was not expecting this attitude. He had been so used to seeing the count fly into stupendous rages that this calm, collected manner was disturbing. It might be the man's natural attitude in moments of real peril or it might merely mean he knew he was ultimately to be the victor.
It was a curious scene. The Panhard had come to rest in a clearing of the woods and a brilliant moon gave the place almost the clarity of day.
Count Michæl sat down on a log and lighted a cigarette. Almost he was usurping Trent'srôleunder such circumstances.
"This interests me," said Count Michæl, "let us discuss it."
"I've no time," Trent said smiling. "I am due at Fiume or Trieste or Zara as the case may be at a certain hour and as I haven't the Lion here I must push on."
"Have you thought that I shall certainly pursue you and assuredly capture you?"
"You may pursue later when you are found but by that time I shall be gone."
"You can never escape me," the count said. "I have a long arm and I do not forget. And my vengeance is a bad thing for those against whom it is directed."
"It's not altogether healthy to have me for an enemy," Trent reminded him. "I have my own likes and dislikes."
The count sneered.
"You," he cried, "Who are you? What have you done that men should fear you? For a moment you have a little luck, the little luck that will bring you blindly to greater danger."
"I'm strictlyincognito," Trent answered. "Once I was unwise enough to answer such a challenge, but you may believe me that I, too, have a name. Now count, it won't help you a bit to put up a fight. It will save you trouble if you'll back up against that tree and let me tie you up."
"You would put this outrage on me?" the other cried, his calm leaving him, the veins standing out on an empurpled forehead like raised livid ridges.
"Get up!" Anthony Trent snapped.
"It is because you have a pistol," the count said. "Put that down if you are a man and then see what you can make me do."
"You may believe it or not," Trent retorted, "but it hurts me to have to decline the offer. If I dared take time I would return several little tendernesses of yours. As it is I can't, having a weapon, strikea man who hasn't one. You are luckier than you know. Back up there and do it damned quick."
Trent was certain that Count Temesvar could never unfasten his bonds. And as he was gagged he could not cry for help. Some swineherd or peasant would discover him later. Meanwhile the discipline would be good.
"Good-by," said Trent genially, "Give my love to your guest the prince and all his high born companions."
If Count Michæl had looked angry before his face now was doubly hideous with rage. His hold over Lord Rosecarrel was gone and he could not doubt but this stranger who had posed as a chauffeur had learned somehow of the presence of the prince. If it were known in the chancelleries of Europe all his carefully matured plans would go for naught. Unless Alfred Anthony were captured Michæl, Count Temesvar could never again make his pleasant little trips to the great houses of England, France and Italy. There he was known as one who had abandoned all political ambitions to become merely the country magnate interested in cattle and crops. Never again could he gather useful information over friendly dinner tables or hobnob with prime ministers over golf or auction bridge if it were known he was giving sanctuary to one who threatened the world peace.
When Anthony Trent had satisfied himself that the document he had taken was the one Arthur stole from his father, he knew, in order to be absolutelysafe, it should be destroyed. Its destruction would give the earl immunity. But Trent hesitated. Once already Lord Rosecarrel had believed it was demolished and had suffered terribly for his trust. Inevitably there would be a seed of suspicion if a comparative stranger, confessedly one who had profited by unlawful operations, should ask him to take as true that the treaty had again been destroyed.
A man in Trent's position was doubly sensitive in a matter of this sort. He had no long and honorable record to back his assertions; and although in the present instance he was actuated by no motives of self-aggrandizement he was not sure others—Daphne alone excepted—would believe him. He thanked God that with her it was different.
So he put the paper in an envelope already stamped and addressed and placed it in his pocket. Then he started for a port of safety.
It seemed impossible that he should miss the way in the bright moonlight but he realized a few minutes later that he was only circling around the clearing where the count was tied to a tree. His headlights showed him innumerable roads like those by which he had come but there was no distinctive sign to guide him to the road to the coast. A group of peasants going incredibly early to their work could not understand him. He repeated the word Fiume but even that did not help. Their little life was bounded by the confines of a few square miles; and the troop trains which had taken them to thebattle lines of a year or so back had only confused them as to topography.
Among the big oaks and beeches Trent could not easily find one tall enough to bear his weight on branches that would let him see over the tops of the others. When dawn came he was in no better plight.
The position in which Anthony Trent found himself was by far the most serious of his career. Hitherto he had faced imprisonment at most. Now capture meant without doubt—death. He had, without thinking of the folly of his utterance, told Count Michæl that he knew of the presence of the guests unsuspected by the great powers.
Count Michæl had probably staged the supposed escape of the prince and supplied a convenient corpse for his interment. Unrest was in every portion of what had once been the dual monarchy. Beggars on horseback were riding to a fall and the Balkan volcano was near eruption. And Anthony Trent, alone of those opposed to Count Michæl's party, knew where was hidden the man whom the count was coaching for his bigrôle. His escape would mean disaster. By this time no doubt passing countrymen had recognized their overlord and released him. But for lack of a compass Anthony Trent should even now have been at a port where he could escape to a friendly vessel.
He remembered what Lord Rosecarrel had told him of Count Michæl's character and autocratic power. Although theoretically shorn of his formerabsolutism it was unlikely that peasants who worked on his lands and still felt their dependence upon him should question Count Michæl's actions. World news which spreads rapidly among the herded workers in factories crept slowly among these land tillers. They had enough to eat and drink and were grateful for that after their years of fighting.
Now that capture was imminent Trent knew that the document must be destroyed. But even in this he delayed hoping his usual luck might cling to him and make the sacrifice unnecessary.
He abandoned the automobile. Its wheels were embedded in black viscid mud and to extricate them the engine would have to run on low speed and announce the car's position to such as might already be seeking him. If he could pass the day uncaptured he might at night be able to free the car of its imprisoning mud and make his escape. He had woodcraft enough to be able to mark down the spot where the Panhard was hidden.
It was high noon when Anthony Trent came in sight of a farm. A big dog came toward him with sharp, staccato inquiring barks. He had a way of making dogs his friends and soon the animal was wagging a welcoming tail. Trent satisfied his hunger and thirst with a meal of early plums and lighted his last Woodbine. The Croatian farmers of the district in which he found himself were horsebreeders to a man. It was an industry which the government had always approved and encouraged. Without a doubt in the distant barns there was some favoriteanimal which might bear Trent to safety if his car had been discovered. The watch dog, now satisfied that the stranger was one to be adored, would prove no obstacle.
Trent nestled back in some drying hay, well out of sight, he supposed, of observers and dropped into a profound sleep. It was the unusual spectacle of the watch dog sitting by the mound of hay that attracted the notice of the farmer. He supposed that the animal—part hound and part draft dog—had run some animal to earth. When the farmer saw that the stranger slept there for whom he had, under Count Michæl's direction, scoured the forest since dawn, he wisely brought assistance. Thus it was that Anthony Trent, rudely brought back to an unsympathetic earth, found himself seized, bruised and bound before he had time to recover his senses or put up a fight.
Peter Sissek it was who carried him to the recovered Panhard and threw him violently to the floor. And for every blow that Trent had struck Sissek in fair fight the Croatian returned with interest now that his conqueror was bound and hopeless. One of Peter's assistants sat on the seat brandishing the revolver which had been the count's. He talked incessantly, threatening no doubt and insulting the captive, and punctuating his invective with kicks that bruised the American's ribs sorely.
He was carried past a mob of jeering servants when the castle was reached and put in a room which had been used as a dungeon for five hundred years.As he looked about the stone walled cell with its narrow windows through which his body could scarcely pass even though the heavy bars were sawn through, he knew his professional skill would avail him nothing.
There was one safeguard for gaolers which he sighed to see. Inside the door was a cage of iron where a keeper might stand and be protected from the sudden onslaught of a waiting prisoner. Thus the most usual form of escape was taken from him.
Hentzi was his first visitor, poor rotund, posing Hentzi who had liked Alfred Anthony largely because he supposed it was a semi-educated London cockney who listened to his worldly wisdom. When he had learned from his master that this pretended chauffeur was the third of the Rosecarrel adherents who had made desperate attempts he supposed him to be of high degree. With amusement Anthony Trent saw the change in his manner. Although disgraced and in prison Hentzi paid the respect that he invariably accorded to birth. He told himself that it was because he noted the instincts of blue blood that he had found pleasure in talking with Alfred Anthony. Trent's careless manner which had sometimes seemed overbold in a chauffeur was now explained.
"I grieve very much to see the marks of violence inflicted upon you by a clod like Peter Sissek," he began.
"I knocked the same clod out when he wasn't looking," Trent returned, "so he had a kick coming.You didn't come to be merely polite Hentzi, what is it? Torture? Boiling oil?"
"It will not be boiling oil," Hentzi answered seriously.
Anthony Trent looked at him searchingly. Of course Hentzi had his purpose in coming here; and that he did not deny the possibility of a Croatian third degree convinced the American that the danger he anticipated was real and near. So far as Count Michæl's power went in his own castle of Radna his prisoner might be in medieval times. Trent was a danger to be nullified and a single life was hardly worthy of consideration in the game the count was playing.
To lose his life was bitter enough; but to lose it after failing and so be denied another chance to make good was agonizing. Hentzi gathered nothing from his scrutiny of the other man's battered face. He saw that the forced and rather vacuous grin which Anthony Trent had worn when he lived another part was gone. Only the powerful, brooding, hawklike look which he had occasionally seen for a flash now remained. He did not doubt but that this was the true character of the man a great English noble had chosen for a dangerous mission.
"You will remain here until the count returns," Hentzi announced.
"How long?" Trent snapped.
"A week certainly; more likely two."
"What will happen then?"
Hentzi sighed. His master's violence often frightened him. He came of a peaceloving family.
"That I cannot say."
"I can't go without a daily shave," Trent said yawning. "And I need cigarettes and the London papers. You can get them for me?"
"The razor I dare not," Hentzi said. "The rest you shall have."
"Afraid I shall commit suicide? You ought to be glad if I did. It would save Count Michæl a lot of trouble. That cage there prevents my slitting the throat of a keeper. A child with a gun could poke the barrel through the bars and put me out of business. Come Hentzi, be human. I will not live with whiskers. I swear to do myself no damage or anyone else either."
"You give me the word of a man of noble birth?" Hentzi inquired anxiously. "You cannot conceal your origin from me. You may not wish it known but I know."
Anthony Trent kept a straight face. Hentzi had always amused him.
"Hentzi," he said seriously, "I must preserve myincognitoat all costs. That you appreciate, but if it will make you more comfortable I will tell you that in my own country there is not a man who has the right to call himself my superior or go in to dinner before me."
Hentzi's bow was most profound. He had known it all along. This was assuredly the venturesome holder of an ancient title, a man of high birth and born to great honor. Hentzi's own Sheffield blades were at his disposal.
Count Michæl returned to his castle after Trent had been for fifteen days a prisoner.
The prince and his suite were now safely hidden in a far Carpathian retreat and there was no evidence in Castle Radna of their occupancy. It had been a dreadful moment when Count Temesvar found himself tied to a tree and his plans in danger of disclosure to his enemies. He had no opportunity of knowing as yet to what use Alfred Anthony had put his knowledge.
The London papers told him only that Lord Rosecarrel was the new Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and was already making friends with the Balkans and cementing an ancient alliance with Greece. That was bad enough in all conscience. But if it were known that he had hidden a prince whose only use to him would be the furtherance of his political ambitions he would be denounced by the government under which he lived.
The easy going, pleasure loving and almost amiable side of Count Michæl's nature was for the moment put aside. The man who took pride in his swift travelling Lion and his occasional long drive at golf was banished by the need of the moment forpossessing certain and wholly accurate knowledge of what Alfred Anthony was and what he had done.
Anthony Trent when he was brought before the count saw this at a glance. He was Francis the First in his arbitrary moods, the mood that made that versatile monarch sweep friends to destruction and visit wrath on them who had offended.
He was led, manacled, between Peter Sissek and old Ferencz and brought to the big room in which the Chubbwood safe was placed. Hentzi hovered nervously in the background.
"I have sent for you," Count Michæl said, "so that you may have the opportunity of making a confession."
"It is thoughtful of you," Trent told him, "but I have no confession to make. I have some complaints however. I dislike my present quarters. They are verminous and draughty."
"Is it possible," the count said slowly, "that you fail to understand your position?"
"What is my position?" Anthony Trent countered.
"You are a nameless prisoner absolutely in my power. There is none in the outer world to help you. Those other two who came told me as much. They were sworn not to ask mercy of me or help of my lord Rosecarrel."
"The cases are not parallel," Trent returned equably, "They asked no mercy of you. I don't either. They did not expect help of—what was the name you mentioned?"
"The man for whom you risk death is the Earl of Rosecarrel. He cannot aid you."
Trent shook his head.
"Never heard of him. I wonder what put it into your brain that I had any definite plans in coming here except to get a position which you forced on me."
"Why did you take a certain document from my pocket and leave much money? No, no. It is idle to fence. I have learnt from London that you were only in the Lion factory a few days and that previously nothing was known of you. You are not a mechanic; that is plain. You came for a certain political document worth in money—nothing. You took it. Now, sir, where is it?"
There was no doubting the count's eagerness or Anthony Trent's astonishment. The count had not recovered the treaty. So far as Trent remembered the envelope was in his coat pocket, the same coat he had taken off among the hay and made a pillow for his head. He assumed, naturally, that when he was roughly dragged from slumber his clothes were searched. A light of triumph came into his eyes at the thought that it did not repose behind those inviolate doors of steel. But it was amazing that the heap of hay had not been disturbed. He supposed it was because of the week of almost continuous rain.
"Where is it?" Count Michæl repeated.
"When I saw it was of no value," Trent said, sticking to his chauffeur rôle, "I burned it."
"For the moment we will assume that you speak the truth. Now, how is it you made the mistake of supposing that I had here certain guests of high degree?"
"Just a guess," Trent said calmly, "Wasn't I right? Remember I had to bring them up from Fiume. I saw coronets on dressing cases and from the way Hentzi bowed and scraped I imagined they were at least royalties in disguise."
"You said," Count Michæl insisted, "'Give my love to the prince.' You could only have meant one particular personage. You did not speak in generalities you particularized. You said 'The prince.' I warn you you do not help yourself by denials. I am not a patient man. The world knows that. Here in my castle of Radna I am supreme. I have not chosen my servants idly. They are committed to me and my cause absolutely. Old Ferencz there would die for me or mine. It is the tradition of loyalty born in him. So with the others. You are surrounded here with those who regard you as my enemy. How can I chide them if, knowing their lord is in peril, they seek to remove it?"
"First and second murderers," Trent commented.
"Executioners," the count corrected.
"It makes no difference what you call them," Trent exclaimed.
"I am glad you look at it in that light," Count Michæl said, "It does not make any difference as you will see. I shall convince you of that by relating the sad accident which befell your friendCaptain the Honourable Oswald Hardcastle, formerly of the Royal Dragoons."
"My friend?" Trent exclaimed.
"Certainly," the count returned, "Lord Rosecarrel's military attaché at Constantinople. Your innocence amuses me. You no doubt know that I owned that great horse Daliborka a winner of the Grand Prix. I was dissatisfied with my trainer and asked friends at the Jockey Club in Paris to recommend me someone. Captain Hardcastle disguised himself much as you have done. He was no longer an aristocrat, an officer of a great regiment, but a trainer who was an ex-jockey. He was a good trainer and a great horseman. Daliborka's time trials were marvelous. I entered him for the great races in England. My new trainer was so jealous of his horse he would have no strangers near and none was allowed to follow him in his rides through the grass meadows." Count Michæl laughed softly, "Yes, I was deceived, made a fool of, as you have it but I can confess it as I do in your case with the satisfaction that the last laugh, the last trick will be mine. It was my laugh at the last with Captain Hardcastle. You are interested?"
"I was in Paris when Daliborka won," Trent said. "I made money on him. Most certainly I'm interested."
"Captain Hardcastle wished for the document which you say you have destroyed. He obtained it. He did not seek to escape as you have done down the main roads. No. No. He had studied the countryprofoundly with all the topographical knowledge gained at the Staff College. He had such complete charge of my large stables that none questioned his right to do as he chose and I was too busy at the time even to see him. He planned his route carefully. He found out a path to the sea where there would wait him a yacht. It was, oddly enough, the same steam yacht in which my lord Rosecarrel makes his cruises. At intervals he placed my horses, horses he had trained for steeple chases. But the first stretch of the journey, ten miles of velvet turf he had planned to ride Daliborka. It is sufficient to tell you that we knew his plans in time. He was to start at midnight. It happened that I passed his quarters at half past eleven and detained him in talk, talk that gave him no uneasiness."
"Then, thinking I was safely here he rushed to the little outbuilding where my great black horse was saddled. He sprang to its back quickly. And as he did so we lit a torch so that he might see how we laughed last. It was a black horse indeed, but a work horse, a slow placid beast which we had substituted. I have never seen real despair seize on a brave man as it did when he saw he had failed. I enjoyed it very much Arlfrit.
"The stable hands who had always resented his iron discipline, the discipline of the soldier, took their vengeance of him in my absence. They are rough, these brave fellows of mine, and do not know their strength."
"You mean," Trent snapped, "you let them murder a man who was probably tied as I am tied now?"
Count Michæl shrugged his shoulders.