บทที่ บทที่ 16 · A Desperate Plan

. A Desperate Plan

As I had ridden publicly in Zenda, and had talked there with Rupert

Hentzau, of course all pretence of illness was at an end. I marked the

effect on the garrison of Zenda: they ceased to be seen abroad; and any

of my men who went near the Castle reported that the utmost vigilance

prevailed there. Touched as I was by Madame de Mauban’s appeal, I seemed

as powerless to befriend her as I had proved to help the King. Michael

bade me defiance; and although he too had been seen outside the walls,

with more disregard for appearances than he had hitherto shown, he did

not take the trouble to send any excuse for his failure to wait on the

King. Time ran on in inactivity, when every moment was pressing; for

not only was I faced with the new danger which the stir about my

disappearance brought on me, but great murmurs had arisen in Strelsau at

my continued absence from the city. They had been greater, but for the

knowledge that Flavia was with me; and for this reason I suffered her to

stay, though I hated to have her where danger was, and though every

day of our present sweet intercourse strained my endurance almost to

breaking. As a final blow, nothing would content my advisers, Strakencz

and the Chancellor (who came out from Strelsau to make an urgent

representation to me), save that I should appoint a day for the public

solemnization of my betrothal, a ceremony which in Ruritania is well

nigh as binding and great a thing as the marriage itself. And this--with

Flavia sitting by me--I was forced to do, setting a date a fortnight

ahead, and appointing the Cathedral in Strelsau as the place. And this

formal act being published far and wide, caused great joy throughout the

kingdom, and was the talk of all tongues; so that I reckoned there were

but two men who chafed at it--I mean Black Michael and myself; and but

one who did not know of it--that one the man whose name I bore, the King

of Ruritania.

In truth, I heard something of the way the news was received in the

Castle; for after an interval of three days, the man Johann, greedy for

more money, though fearful for his life, again found means to visit us.

He had been waiting on the duke when the tidings came. Black Michael’s

face had grown blacker still, and he had sworn savagely; nor was he

better pleased when young Rupert took oath that I meant to do as I

said, and turning to Madame de Mauban, wished her joy on a rival gone.

Michael’s hand stole towards his sword (said Johann), but not a bit did

Rupert care; for he rallied the duke on having made a better King than

had reigned for years past in Ruritania. “And,” said he, with a meaning

bow to his exasperated master, “the devil sends the princess a finer man

than heaven had marked out for her, by my soul, it does!” Then Michael

harshly bade him hold his tongue, and leave them; but Rupert must needs

first kiss madame’s hand, which he did as though he loved her, while

Michael glared at him.

This was the lighter side of the fellow’s news; but more serious came

behind, and it was plain that if time pressed at Tarlenheim, it pressed

none the less fiercely at Zenda. For the King was very sick: Johann had

seen him, and he was wasted and hardly able to move. “There could be no

thought of taking another for him now.” So alarmed were they, that they

had sent for a physician from Strelsau; and the physician having been

introduced into the King’s cell, had come forth pale and trembling, and

urgently prayed the duke to let him go back and meddle no more in the

affair; but the duke would not, and held him there a prisoner, telling

him his life was safe if the King lived while the duke desired and died

when the duke desired--not otherwise. And, persuaded by the physician,

they had allowed Madame de Mauban to visit the King and give him such

attendance as his state needed, and as only a woman can give. Yet his

life hung in the balance; and I was still strong and whole and free.

Wherefore great gloom reigned at Zenda; and save when they quarrelled,

to which they were very prone, they hardly spoke. But the deeper the

depression of the rest, young Rupert went about Satan’s work with a

smile in his eye and a song on his lip; and laughed “fit to burst” (said

Johann) because the duke always set Detchard to guard the King when

Madame de Mauban was in the cell--which precaution was, indeed, not

unwise in my careful brother. Thus Johann told his tale and seized his

crowns. Yet he besought us to allow him to stay with us in Tarlenheim,

and not venture his head again in the lion’s den; but we had need of him

there, and, although I refused to constrain him, I prevailed on him by

increased rewards to go back and carry tidings to Madame de Mauban that

I was working for her, and that, if she could, she should speak one

word of comfort to the King. For while suspense is bad for the sick, yet

despair is worse still, and it might be that the King lay dying of mere

hopelessness, for I could learn of no definite disease that afflicted

him.

“And how do they guard the King now?” I asked, remembering that two of

the Six were dead, and Max Holf also.

“Detchard and Bersonin watch by night, Rupert Hentzau and De Gautet by

day, sir,” he answered.

“Only two at a time?”

“Ay, sir; but the others rest in a room just above, and are within sound

of a cry or a whistle.”

“A room just above? I didn’t know of that. Is there any communication

between it and the room where they watch?”

“No, sir. You must go down a few stairs and through the door by the

drawbridge, and so to where the King is lodged.”

“And that door is locked?”

“Only the four lords have keys, sir.”

I drew nearer to him.

“And have they keys of the grating?” I asked in a low whisper.

“I think, sir, only Detchard and Rupert.”

“Where does the duke lodge?”

“In the chateau, on the first floor. His apartments are on the right as

you go towards the drawbridge.”

“And Madame de Mauban?”

“Just opposite, on the left. But her door is locked after she has

entered.”

“To keep her in?”

“Doubtless, sir.”

“Perhaps for another reason?”

“It is possible.”

“And the duke, I suppose, has the key?”

“Yes. And the drawbridge is drawn back at night, and of that, too, the

duke holds the key, so that it cannot be run across the moat without

application to him.”

“And where do you sleep?”

“In the entrance hall of the chateau, with five servants.”

“Armed?”

“They have pikes, sir, but no firearms. The duke will not trust them

with firearms.”

Then at last I took the matter boldly in my hands. I had failed once at

“Jacob’s Ladder;” I should fail again there. I must make the attack from

the other side.

“I have promised you twenty thousand crowns,” said I. “You shall have

fifty thousand if you will do what I ask of you tomorrow night. But,

first, do those servants know who your prisoner is?”

“No, sir. They believe him to be some private enemy of the duke’s.”

“And they would not doubt that I am the King?”

“How should they?” he asked.

“Look to this, then. Tomorrow, at two in the morning exactly, fling open

the front door of the chateau. Don’t fail by an instant.”

“Shall you be there, sir?”

“Ask no questions. Do what I tell you. Say the hall is close, or what

you will. That is all I ask of you.”

“And may I escape by the door, sir, when I have opened it?”

“Yes, as quick as your legs will carry you. One thing more. Carry this

note to madame--oh, it’s in French, you can’t read it--and charge her,

for the sake of all our lives, not to fail in what it orders.”

The man was trembling but I had to trust to what he had of courage and

to what he had of honesty. I dared not wait, for I feared that the King

would die.

When the fellow was gone, I called Sapt and Fritz to me, and unfolded

the plan that I had formed. Sapt shook his head over it.

“Why can’t you wait?” he asked.

“The King may die.”

“Michael will be forced to act before that.”

“Then,” said I, “the King may live.”

“Well, and if he does?”

“For a fortnight?” I asked simply.

And Sapt bit his moustache.

Suddenly Fritz von Tarlenheim laid his hand on my shoulder.

“Let us go and make the attempt,” said he.

“I mean you to go--don’t be afraid,” said I.

“Ay, but do you stay here, and take care of the princess.”

A gleam came into old Sapt’s eye.

“We should have Michael one way or the other then,” he chuckled;

“whereas if you go and are killed with the King, what will become of

those of us who are left?”

“They will serve Queen Flavia,” said I, “and I would to God I could be

one of them.”

A pause followed. Old Sapt broke it by saying sadly, yet with an unmeant

drollery that set Fritz and me laughing:

“Why didn’t old Rudolf the Third marry your--great-grandmother, was it?”

“Come,” said I, “it is the King we are thinking about.”

“It is true,” said Fritz.

“Moreover,” I went on, “I have been an impostor for the profit of

another, but I will not be one for my own; and if the King is not alive

and on his throne before the day of betrothal comes, I will tell the

truth, come what may.”

“You shall go, lad,” said Sapt.

Here is the plan I had made. A strong party under Sapt’s command was

to steal up to the door of the chateau. If discovered prematurely, they

were to kill anyone who found them--with their swords, for I wanted no

noise of firing. If all went well, they would be at the door when Johann

opened it. They were to rush in and secure the servants if their mere

presence and the use of the King’s name were not enough. At the same

moment--and on this hinged the plan--a woman’s cry was to ring out loud

and shrill from Antoinette de Mauban’s chamber. Again and again she was

to cry: “Help, help! Michael, help!” and then to utter the name of young

Rupert Hentzau. Then, as we hoped, Michael, in fury, would rush out of

his apartments opposite, and fall alive into the hands of Sapt. Still

the cries would go on; and my men would let down the drawbridge; and it

would be strange if Rupert, hearing his name thus taken in vain, did not

descend from where he slept and seek to cross. De Gautet might or might

not come with him: that must be left to chance.

And when Rupert set his foot on the drawbridge? There was my part: for I

was minded for another swim in the moat; and, lest I should grow weary,

I had resolved to take with me a small wooden ladder, on which I could

rest my arms in the water--and my feet when I left it. I would rear it

against the wall just by the bridge; and when the bridge was across, I

would stealthily creep on to it--and then if Rupert or De Gautet crossed

in safety, it would be my misfortune, not my fault. They dead, two men

only would remain; and for them we must trust to the confusion we had

created and to a sudden rush. We should have the keys of the door that

led to the all-important rooms. Perhaps they would rush out. If they

stood by their orders, then the King’s life hung on the swiftness with

which we could force the outer door; and I thanked God that not Rupert

Hentzau watched, but Detchard. For though Detchard was a cool man,

relentless, and no coward, he had neither the dash nor the recklessness

of Rupert. Moreover, he, if any one of them, really loved Black Michael,

and it might be that he would leave Bersonin to guard the King, and rush

across the bridge to take part in the affray on the other side.

So I planned--desperately. And, that our enemy might be the better

lulled to security, I gave orders that our residence should be

brilliantly lighted from top to bottom, as though we were engaged in

revelry; and should so be kept all night, with music playing and people

moving to and fro. Strakencz would be there, and he was to conceal our

departure, if he could, from Flavia. And if we came not again by the

morning, he was to march, openly and in force to the Castle, and demand

the person of the King; if Black Michael were not there, as I did not

think he would be, the Marshal would take Flavia with him, as swiftly as

he could, to Strelsau, and there proclaim Black Michael’s treachery and

the probable death of the King, and rally all that there was honest and

true round the banner of the princess. And, to say truth, this was what

I thought most likely to happen. For I had great doubts whether either

the King or Black Michael or I had more than a day to live. Well, if

Black Michael died, and if I, the play-actor, slew Rupert Hentzau with

my own hand, and then died myself, it might be that Fate would deal

as lightly with Ruritania as could be hoped, notwithstanding that she

demanded the life of the King--and to her dealing thus with me, I was in

no temper to make objection.

It was late when we rose from conference, and I betook me to the

princess’s apartments. She was pensive that evening; yet, when I left

her, she flung her arms about me and grew, for an instant, bashfully

radiant as she slipped a ring on my finger. I was wearing the King’s

ring; but I had also on my little finger a plain band of gold engraved

with the motto of our family: “_Nil Quae Feci_.” This I took off and put

on her, and signed to her to let me go. And she, understanding, stood

away and watched me with dimmed eyes.

“Wear that ring, even though you wear another when you are queen,” I

said.

“Whatever else I wear, this I will wear till I die and after,” said she,

as she kissed the ring.