A Dash .. .. .. For a Throne Part 26

I raised more objections, and thus wasted more time, only giving way in the end with apparent reluctance. Nearly another hour pa.s.sed in a fresh heated discussion, and when we separated it was ten o'clock.

I calculated that von Nauheim might safely be left now. I had kept him without food for five hours, and I knew he would barely have time to rush home, put on his fancy-dress costume, s.n.a.t.c.h a hasty meal, and get to the ball at the appointed time for the meeting of the chief actors in the night's business.

I was soon to have evidence, however, that if I had been active in my preparations my antagonists had also been busy, and had laid deliberate plans for my overthrow at that very moment.

When I left the baron's house, I found, to my surprise, that my carriage had gone.

"You can't even keep in touch with your own servants, it seems, when you want them, to say nothing of guarding the Countess Minna," sneered von Nauheim.

"Apparently not," I answered; but my momentary chagrin was merged the next instant in the thought that this was probably no accident. I remembered that von Nauheim had left the room once for a few minutes, and I read the incident as a danger-signal.

"We'd better have a cab called," he added, and he sent a servant out for one.

When the man returned with one, my companion said:

"Come along, Prince, we've no time to lose."

For a moment I hung back, but, reflecting that I had better not even yet show my hand, I followed him.

The man drove off slowly at first, and as the vehicle lumbered heavily along I felt in my pocket to make sure my revolver was ready for use in need. Von Nauheim was obviously nervous. At first he whistled and drummed with his fingers on the window, and peered out into the streets.

It was a dark night, and the driver had left the main road and was taking us through some narrow and ill-lighted streets, and was driving much more quickly.

"Where's the idiot taking us?" exclaimed von Nauheim, a.s.suming a tone of anger. "Doesn't the dolt know his way?"

"He shouldn't have left the main street, should he?" I asked unconcernedly. "Tell him which way to drive. I don't know it."

He put his head out and called to the driver, and a short heated altercation took place, which ended in von Nauheim bidding him drive as fast as he could, since we were in a furious hurry.

The man now whipped up his horse, the cab travelling at a very quick pace indeed, rattling and jolting, swaying and b.u.mping over the rough road with great violence. I began to think there was a plan to overturn it and take the chance of dealing me some injury in the consequent confusion when I might lie in the ruins of it. But there was more than that intended.

I did not know the district in the least, but I knew we had already been much longer in the vehicle than should have sufficed to carry us either to von Nauheim's house or mine, and I thought it time to put a stop to the little play.

"Stop him," I said to my companion. "I am going no farther in this crazy thing. He's either a fool or drunk, or worse."

"What are you afraid of?" he returned, with a laugh. "We're going all right. I know where we are." And I saw him look out anxiously into the dark.

"Well, I'm going no farther."

And I put my hand out of the window and loosened the handle of the door, while I called to the driver to stop. I would not turn my back to von Nauheim for fear of treachery.

"He can't hear you," he gibed. "Put your head out of the window and call him, unless; you're afraid of the dark," and he laughed again.

The situation was becoming graver every moment, and I cursed myself for having been such a foolhardy idiot as to have stepped into a snare set right before my eyes. The carriage was travelling at a high rate of speed, and I had no doubt that I was being carried away from Munich in order to prevent my being present at the ball.

To jump out was impossible without giving my companion an opportunity to deal me a blow or a stab from behind, which, even if it did not kill me, would certainly disable me at a juncture when everything depended upon my retaining the fullest use of every faculty and every ounce of strength I possessed. Yet I suspected that to sit still and do nothing was to allow myself to be carried into some carefully prepared ambush, where the consequences might be even worse.

"I believe you are afraid of the dark," said my companion after a pause; and I could see in the indistinct, vacillating light that his face wore a confident, sneering look of infinitely malicious triumph.

I felt it would be madness to let him carry the matter farther.

"There is some devilment here," I said sternly. "This is all preconcerted. Stop that mad fool out there, and let's have no more of it."

"What do you mean? How dare you?"

Then he stopped suddenly, and I saw him rise from his seat and look out through the front windows of the carriage.

"By G.o.d! what does it mean?" he exclaimed excitedly.

His face had lost all its jaunty, bl.u.s.tering expression and had turned gray with sudden fear.

"He's fallen off the box, or jumped off," he cried in a tone hoa.r.s.e with panic.

It was true. The driver had disappeared, and the horse, freed from all control, was stretching himself out at a wild gallop.

"For G.o.d's sake, what had we better do, Prince?" cried the coward, turning to me in positively abject fear.

It was my turn now to smile. His precious play had broken up completely, and instead of having got me into a snare he had brought himself into a mess that was likely enough to cost him his life.

"It serves you right," I growled, with a rough oath. "You'll be lucky if you get out of this mess alive."

He was a coward through and through, and the revulsion of feeling from triumph at having tricked me into his power to the realization that he himself was in dire peril was more than his nerves could stand. He groaned, and covered his eyes as if to shut out the danger, and then fell back in his seat, limp and flaccid, like a girl in a terror-swoon.

There was nothing more to be feared from him, and I turned to consider to help myself. I opened the door of the swaying, swinging carriage, and tried to judge the chances of a leap out into the road.

I could see nothing except in the feeble, oscillating, fitful light of the lamps, while the door b.u.mped and dashed against me so violently that I had to grip hard to prevent myself being thrown out altogether. It seemed impossible to hope for escape that way.

Yet I did not know the road; and, for aught I could tell, any minute might find us dashed to pieces. To sit still, therefore, and wait for the worst to happen was at least equally perilous.

I thought of trying to clamber on to the box-seat so as to get control of the horse; but with the vehicle swaying and b.u.mping as it was the chances were ten thousand to one against. And if I fell in the effort, I should be under the wheels.

Then an idea occurred to me--to wound the horse with a revolver-shot. It was desperate; but all courses were that. The light from the lamps shone on the horse sufficiently to let me see where to shoot; and, gripping with my left hand on to the door frame, I leaned out as far as I dared and, taking careful aim, fired.

[Ill.u.s.tration: I LEANED OUT AS FAR AS I DARED, AND TAKING CAREFUL AIM, FIRED.]

I missed the horse altogether, or grazed him very slightly, and frightened him; for I felt the vehicle give a violent jolt to one side and then forward, being nearly upset in the process. Then it dashed onward at a greater speed than before.

I leaned out once more and, getting this time a clearer aim, I fired again. There was a wild and desperate plunge, during which the carriage seemed to stop dead, then there was a terrific smash, and the next instant horse and carriage were lying in an indistinguishable heap in the middle of the road; and I found myself lying unhurt a few yards off.

I got up, and ran to look for von Nauheim. One of the lamps was still burning, and by the light of it I made a discovery that told me much.

The horse was no ordinary cab hack, but a valuable beast worth a place in any man's stud. This was clear evidence to me that the whole thing had been planned.

My companion was lying under a heap of the wrecked carriage; and after much trouble I hauled him out, laid him by the roadside, and endeavored to find out whether he was much hurt, or had only fainted from fright.

I could not get him round, however; and as my presence in Munich was too essential to admit of my remaining with him, I was just starting to walk back, meaning to send him help as soon as I could find it, when I heard the voices of men approaching.

I was still suspicious of treachery, and instantly on my guard.

"Is that you, Fritz?" called a voice through the dark. "Why didn't you come on to the proper place?"