The Secret Witness, George Gibbs [world of reading TXT] 📗

over the desk reading the messages, repeating the names of the towns which replied.

"Beneschau—Pribram—Wrshowitz—that district is covered, Lengelbach?"

"Yes. Ah, here is something."

Windt bent forward again repeating the message aloud.

"From Beraun—Franz—Schweppenheiser—and—a—woman—says—she—is—his—wife. Small—four—cylinder—car—American—make—black—in—color —with—brass—band—on—hood. Both—man—and—woman—have—grey—hair —age—seventy-two—and——" Herr Windt broke off with an oath, "Schafsköpfen!" he cried. "Enough of that——" And paced the floor of the room before Renwick, glaring impatiently out of the window.

"Another," said Lengelbach, "from Bresnitz. Man—and—girl—much frightened——"

"Ah!"

"Say—they—are—running—away—to—be—married."

"Yes—the description——"

"Man—dark—age—twenty-five—girl—yellow—hair——"

"Bah!" furiously. "Enough—the next."

For an hour or more, Renwick sat helplessly and listened while the different towns including the city of Prague responded. There was no green limousine in all Bohemia. At last, his patience exhausted, he rose and knocked his pipe out.

"Herr Windt," he inquired calmly, "what reason have you for believing that they will go to Prague?"

"The roads are good. The German border lies beyond," said Windt shortly, turning away.

"Wait!" Renwick's hand clutched his arm firmly. "Is there a road running south and parallel to the highroad?"

Windt regarded him in silence for a moment and then—

"Yes, many—but most of them mere cow paths."

"An automobile could pass over them, Herr Lengelbach?"

"Yes, the roads to Brünn are not bad," said the man.

Renwick smiled grimly. "It is my belief, Herr Windt, that they have slipped through your fingers."

"No."

"You have exhausted almost every means——"

"There are other stations——"

"I would suggest that you try the country to the southward."

"Why?"

"Because that is the way that they have gone——"

"Impossible!"

"I think you forget the Countess Strahni's mission—and yours."

"She will not succeed."

His stubbornness angered Renwick, and he caught him by the arm again, and whispered a few words in his ear.

Herr Windt turned a startled glance at the Englishman. His mind had been bent upon mere machinery. When he spoke there was in his voice a note of respect.

"Ah—it is worth considering. But how? The telegraph wires are now in my possession—here in this district to Budweis—to Vienna——"

"Then why don't you use them?" asked Renwick bluntly.

Windt stood stock still a moment and then went quickly to the desk.

"Repeat that message to Budweis, to Gmund, to Altensteig and Absdorf. Also cover the Brünn road. It can do no harm," he said turning urbanely to Renwick.

"Perhaps not," said Renwick dryly, "if the harm is not already done."

Together they listened to the clicking of the telegraph instrument. Half an hour passed. Hadwiger returned with the machine. Spivak and Linder came in from their fruitless search of the woods. The suspense was unendurable. Renwick, forgetting his danger, paced the road outside until a cry from Windt brought him into the office. The others were leaning over the instrument while Windt spelled out the words, "I-g-l-a-u t-w-o s-e-v-e-n-t-e-e-n G-e-r-m-a-n o-f-f-i-c-e-r a-n-d w-i-f-e. G-r-e-e-n l-i-m-o-u-s-i-n-e p-a-s-s-e-d h-e-r-e t-e-n m-i-n-u-t-e-s a-g-o f-o-r V-i-e-n-n-a."

"Kollosaler Halunke!" thundered Windt, his urbanity shattered to shreds. "They have taken the other road. Here, Lengelbach, take this quick. "Hold green motor-car man and woman." Send that to every telegraph station between Brünn and Danube. Relay all messages to Budweis. I'm going there."

And turning quickly he went toward the automobile, with a sign to the others to follow. Very politely he stood aside while Renwick entered, and with one of the men climbed into the rear seat while the other two got in front, Hadwiger driving at a furious pace. For a long time they went in silence, Herr Windt sitting with folded arms, his brows tangled in thought. To acknowledge that he had been outwitted had been galling, but to let this English creature of pipe and monocle indicate, in the presence of his own underlings, the precise means of his discomfiture was bitter indeed. At last his lips mumbled vaguely.

"Still I do not understand," they said.

"A note wrapped around the coin," suggested Renwick.

"Ach, so. It is very probable. The simplest expedients are often the most effective. Still it is remarkable that they have slipped through."

"The green limousine goes to Vienna," said Renwick.

Herr Windt had self-respect enough for a rather cynical smile.

"And after Vienna?" he asked.

Renwick shrugged.

"That will depend upon the efficiency of the Austrian Secret Police."

"Meaning, precisely what, Herr Renwick?"

"Merely that the Wilhelmstrasse is skillful, Herr Windt," he replied.

"You mean that they will escape—here in Austria! Impossible!"

"You will need all your wits," said Renwick dryly.

The truth of the remark was soon apparent for when Herr Windt's party reached the telegraph station at Budweis, there were no reassuring messages. The green limousine had vanished into the earth.

CHAPTER VIII AN ESCAPE AND A CAPTURE

In her flight from the cabin in the Archduke's woods, the Countess Strahni crept along in the shadow of the hedge which bordered the orchard, and reached the gate of the garden. She had seen the watcher in the orchard pacing to and fro, and, awaiting the moment when his back should be turned, she hurried swiftly on to the shelter of the garden wall, once within which, she thought that she would be safe from detection by the men of Herr Windt. She waited for a moment at the gate to be sure that the man near the cabin had not observed her, and noted, through the foliage, that he had not moved. Then summoning her courage, she crossed the garden boldly in the direction of the arbor—the fateful arbor of Austria's betrayal—and her own. In the path beyond it Hugh Renwick would be awaiting her—Renwick, the imperturbable, the persistent, the—the despicable. Yes, she was quite sure that she despised him, in spite of all his efforts on her behalf, so the thought that she was once more to be beholden to him in this hapless quest gave her a long moment of uncertainty as she reached the arbor. She paused within the structure, wondering whether, now that she had succeeded in eluding Herr Windt, it would not be better to flee into the castle, and enlist the aid of the servants in behalf of their master and mistress. She had even taken a few steps toward the tennis court, when she remembered—the telegraph in the hands of Austrian officials who had their instructions! That way was hopeless. The Archduke's chamberlain had, of course, gone south, and in the castle, beside the house-servants, there would have remained only the English governess, the children, and the housekeeper. There could be little help expected from them—only bewilderment, horror, or perhaps incredulity. She must go on to Herr Renwick, continue the impossible situation between them, hide her exasperation in a studied politeness, and trust implicitly, as she had done before, to his undoubted desire to retrieve his lost standing.

She turned into the path which led from the arbor, and hurried through into the narrow path which led to the hidden gate beyond. Just here where the foliage was thickest, and not twenty yards from the spot where she and Hugh Renwick had listened to the pact of Konopisht, a figure stood bowing. She had been so intent upon seeing the Englishman that it was a full moment before she recovered from the shock of her surprise. The man before her was tall, with good shoulders, and wore a brown Norfolk jacket and a soft hat. His eyes were dark and as he smiled they wrinkled very pleasantly at the corners.

Marishka halted and stared at him uncertainly.

"I beg your pardon," she said. "I came here to meet——" She paused, for the thought suddenly entered her head that this perhaps might be another of the men sent to detain her. But in a moment she realized her mistake. The air with which the man swept off his hat and bowed convinced her that he was a gentleman and his manner put her at once at her ease.

"Herr Renwick," he said, with a smile, "has gone on to make some arrangements for your comfort. He has asked me to conduct you to the automobile, and will join us beyond the village."

An automobile! There would still be time, perhaps, to reach Vienna before the archducal party should leave for Bosnia.

"Oh, of course," gasped Marishka thankfully.

"If you will come this way, Countess——" he said, with something of an air. He bowed, but kept his gaze fixed upon hers. There was something very remarkable about this man's eyes—she could not tell just what it was—but they held her for a second, held her motionless until the hand which held his hat gestured for her to pass on. She took the walk before him, descended the steps which led to the lower path where he hurried forward and opened the door in the wall.

Even now, no notion entered her head that this polite person was other than he represented himself to be. And the well equipped machine which stood in the road outside the wall only caused her a momentary thrill of joy at the opportunity which placed the means of their escape so readily at the hand of the now really admirable Herr Renwick. As she paused again for a moment, her companion threw open the door of the limousine, and lightly touched her elbow.

"If the Countess Strahni will enter——" he said quietly. "There is little time to lose."

Marishka obeyed and in a moment the man in the Norfolk jacket was seated beside her, the chauffeur had thrown in the gears, and the machine was moving swiftly upon its way. She sank back into the comfortable cushions with a sigh of satisfaction which did not escape her companion.

"It was fortunate that I should have been in this neighborhood," he said with a strange smile. It was not until then that she noticed the slightly thick accents with which he spoke and she glanced at his profile hurriedly. His nose was aquiline and well cut, but the suggestion of his nationality was elusive. In spite of his evident gentility, his good looks, his courtesy and his friendship with Hugh Renwick, Marishka now had her first belated instinct that all was not as it should be. The man beside her looked past the chauffeur down the road ahead, turning one or two glances over his shoulder into the cloud of dust behind them. She noticed now that the car had not gone in the direction of the village, but had reached the country road which led to the west and was moving at a high speed which seemed to take the waiting Renwick little into consideration. All the windows of the car were closed, and she had a sense of being restrained—suffocated. For a while she did not dare to give her thoughts utterance, but as the car reached the Prague highroad and turned to the right, she started and turned in alarm to the man beside her.

"You told me that Herr Renwick was waiting for us just beyond the village. Where is——?"

The question trembled and died on her lips for the eyes of the man beside her answered before it was asked.

"I regret," he said evenly, "that there is no time to wait for Herr Renwick."

"You—you have——" she stammered helplessly.

"I beg that the Countess Strahni will not be unduly disturbed."

"Where are we going? This is the road to Prague. Tell me where you are taking me. I insist——"

He smiled at her again, but did not reply.

Marishka was now really alarmed and looked out of the closed windows at the flying hedgerows in desperation, wondering what she must do and trying to think how this dreadful mishap had befallen her. Hugh Renwick—his note to her—this stranger with the remarkable eyes who always smiled! Where was the missing link—what the deduction? But it was no time in which to lose one's courage. She turned toward the man beside her who was regarding her calmly.

"Who are you?" she asked.