The World Masters Part 25

The French admiral and Victor Fargeau both bowed a.s.sent as he spoke.

And Lord Orrel answered:

"Well, gentlemen, since you are resolved, so be it. We will not discuss the matter further."

While he was speaking Lady Olive had gone to the piano, and, as he ceased, the opening chords of "Auld Lang Syne," floated through the room, and she began to sing the old Scotch song. The words had a strangely satirical meaning for Count Valdemar and his daughter and Adelaide, who had heard them several times at Orrel Court, and Lady Olive put such expression into them that both Sophie and Adelaide felt inclined to be a little ashamed of themselves. Then in the midst of the song the clock began to chime twelve, and Lady Olive, with a frank look of defiance in her eyes, switched off suddenly into "G.o.d Save the King," and began to sing the opening lines. At the end of the first verse she stopped and rose from the piano, and said to her father, who had been looking a little uneasy, as though he thought it was hardly good taste:

"I am very sorry, papa, if I have offended, but really I could not help it; it seemed inevitable."

"And why not?" said Adelaide. "Was not the same song sung in honour of the Grand Monarque by the ladies of Versailles? Well, now, Lady Olive, I suppose it is good-night and good-bye. A thousand thanks for all your kindness and hospitality."

"And a thousand thanks from me, too," said Sophie.

They held out their hands, but Lady Olive put hers behind her, and drew back.

"Thank you," she said, frigidly. "You are quite welcome to any kindness that I have been able to show you; but, really, I must ask you to pardon me if I decline to shake hands with you after you have definitely joined the enemies of my family."

"Perhaps you are right, Lady Olive," laughed Sophie. "Still, I hope that, at no very distant time, we shall have an opportunity of returning some, at least, of your kindness."

A few minutes later hosts and guests were standing outside the western gate, beside which the electric engine and the saloon carriage were waiting to take them to the harbour. The departing guests' luggage had been put on a little truck at the back.

"Ah, well, this is the end, I suppose," said Adelaide to Sophie as they stood in the dim twilight of the Northern midnight, exchanging their last formal salutations. "To-night peace; to-morrow war."

"But why not war now?" whispered Sophie. "Look! what a chance! Shall we ever have another like it? a la guerre; comme a la guerre!"

"Yes," whispered Adelaide in reply. "Ah, sacre! Look there!"

As she spoke, Chrysie left Lady Olive's side, went to Hardress, and slipped her arm through his, and looked up at him with an expression that there was no mistaking.

Then Adelaide de Conde's long pent-up pa.s.sion broke loose, and the hot blood of hate began to sing in her head and burn in her eyes.

Everything, so far, had failed. She had made herself a criminal, and had been punished by a silent, but humiliating, pardon. She had disgraced herself in the eyes of the man she would have sold her soul to get, and now--well, what did it matter? To-morrow--nay, within six hours, it would be war to the death, Why not begin now, as Sophie had whispered?

For the moment she was mad, or she would not have done what she did.

But she was mad--mad with failure, hopeless love, and the hatred which only the "woman scorned" can feel. She pulled Chrysie's revolver out of her pocket, and snarled between her teeth:

"You have got him, but you shall not keep him!"

The revolver went up at the same moment, and she pulled the trigger.

Three shots cracked in quick succession. Hardress went down with a broken thigh; Chrysie, in the act of drawing her own revolver, received a bullet in her arm, which was intended for her heart; and the third one went through the hood of her cloak, just touching the skin above the ear.

She tried to get out the revolver with her left hand; but, before she could do so, Sophie and Fargeau had opened fire, and at Sophie's first shot, she clasped her hand to her side, and went down beside Hardress.

Lord Orrel had a bit of his left ear snipped off, and the president got a flesh wound just below the left shoulder.

The two admirals, who had already taken their seats in the car, with Madame de Bourbon and the Russian professor, sprang to their feet; but, before they could leave the car, a strange and awful thing happened. A blinding glare of light shone out from the southern tower, where Doctor Lamson had been watching the departure through his night-gla.s.ses. The thin ray wavered about until it fell on Sophie Valdemar and Adelaide de Conde, still standing close together, with Victor Fargeau just in front of them.

For a moment their faces showed white and ghastly in the blazing radiance; and then, to the amazement and horror of those who saw the strangest sight that human eye had ever gazed upon, down the ray of light, invisible, but all-destroying, flowed the terrible energy of the disintegrator on the top of the tower. Their hair crinkled up and disappeared, the flesh melted from their faces and hands. For an instant, two of the most beautiful countenances in Europe were transformed into living skulls, which grinned out in unspeakable hideousness. Then their clothing shrivelled up into tinder, and all three dropped together in an indistinguishable heap of crumbling bones.

CHAPTER x.x.x

Almost at the moment that the man and the two women who, but a few moments ago, had been standing in the full pride of their youth and health and beauty, had dropped to the earth in little heaps of crumbling bones, whistles sounded inside the works, and a number of men came out of the western gate, some of them armed with rifles and revolvers, and others carrying stretchers. Hardress and Chrysie were lifted on to two of these, and Lady Olive went back into the works with them.

Lord Orrel and the president, after having their wounds hastily bandaged for the time being, went to the door of the saloon carriage, and Lord Orrel said, shortly and sternly:

"Madame de Bourbon, as you have seen, your niece has ceased to exist.

Count Valdemar, the same is true of your daughter. And as for you, gentlemen," he went on, turning to the two admirals, "you have seen something of those means of defence of which I spoke to you after dinner.

"There," he went on, pointing to the little heap of mingled bones lying on the sand, "is the proof of it. Every human thing that tries to pa.s.s the limits of those rays will share the same fate. These people were enemies, but they were worse--they were traitors; and, as you have seen, they wished to be murderers. They have justly earned their fate. There is no reason why you should share it. Take my advice, I pray you, advice which I give from the bottom of my heart.

Weigh anchor to-night, go back to Europe, and you will find that everything that we have told you is true."

"That, my Lord Orrel, is impossible," said Admiral Nazanoff, coming to the door of the car. "By what devilish means you have slain Captain Fargeau and those two ladies we know not, save that it must have been done through some material mechanism. To-morrow our guns shall try conclusions with it, whatever it is. Yes, even though you turned that murderous ray on us and killed us, as you did them, for our men have their orders. And now, I suppose, we had better get out and walk. We can hardly expect the use of your train after what has happened."

"You needn't worry about that, admiral," said the president; "we've promised you safe conduct to your ships, and you shall have it. But look here, count," he went on, pulling a heavy six-shooter out of his pocket, "don't you get fingering about that pocket as if you had a gun in it, or it'll be the last shooting-iron you ever did touch. We don't want any more shooting than we've had till we begin business in the morning."

Count Valdemar saw that he was covered, and he didn't like the look of the hard, steady, grey eyes behind the barrel of the long repeating pistol. He took his hand empty out of his pocket, clasped it with the left over his knees, and shrugged his shoulders. There was nothing to be said, and so he kept something of his dignity by holding his tongue, and the president went on:

"Well, that's better. You keep your hands where they are, and no harm will happen to you just now. But don't you think, gentlemen, that it would be better if Madame de Bourbon came back with us into the works, where she will be safe, anyhow safer than she would be on one of your ships, if you are still determined to fight it out."

"I am much obliged to you, Monsieur le President," replied the old lady, in her most autocratic manner; "but after what has happened, and what I have seen, I prefer to return with my own people."

"And," added Admiral Dumont, "you may be quite certain, monsieur, that before this most regrettable battle begins at six o'clock, one of the ships will have taken Madame de Bourbon beyond the reach of harm."

"With that, of course, we must be content," said Lord Orrel, coming back to the president's side. "And now, gentlemen, since, as you say, it is to be war between us, I have one more favour to ask: Here is the man," he went on, pointing to the second engineer of the _Nadine_, who had been brought out of the gate by a couple of stalwart quartermasters, "here is the man who allowed himself to be bribed by the late Countess Sophie Valdemar and the Marquise de Montpensier to wreck the engines of the _Nadine_, and so, as they thought, turn the course of fate in their favour. We have not punished him, but we have no further use for his services. He is a good engineer, whatever else he may be, and so perhaps you will be able to find him some employment on board one of your ships. Now, Robertson and Thompson, help Mr Williams into the car, please. These gentlemen want to get down to the harbour."

The two quartermasters picked up the handcuffed Williams, and flung him in through the open door of the saloon. Then the president said to the man at the engine, "Right away, driver, and come back when these gentlemen are safe on board. Salud, Senores," he went on to the two admirals, raising his hat with his unwounded arm. "Take my advice--clear out, and don't let us have any shooting in the morning.

I reckon we've had quite trouble enough already."

At this moment the driver of the electric motor sounded his bell, the two admirals and the count raised their hats and stared out through the window with grim, immovable faces, and so went back to the ships, marvelling greatly at the wonderful horror they had beheld. Madame de Bourbon was already in hysterics, succoured by Ma'm'selle Felice.

Count Valdemar, though stricken to the heart by the frightful fate of the only human being that he had loved since his wife had died nearly twenty years before, was yet determined to use all his influence to compel the admirals to take the amplest possible revenge for her slaying. Certainly if the works were not battered into ruins within twelve hours, it would not be his fault; and then, as the little train drew out, he fell to wondering whether Hardress and Chrysie Vandel were killed or not.

"And are you still decided to fight, gentlemen?" he said to the admirals a few moments later, when the car was rattling over the narrow rails, "and, if so, what are you going to do with this thing?"

He touched Mr Williams's still prostrate body with his toe as he said this.

"I need not tell you, count," replied Admiral Nazanoff, "as a Russian to a Russian, that orders are orders, and mine are to take those works or destroy them. I admit that what we saw to-night was very wonderful and very terrible, but when Holy Russia says 'Go and do,' then we must go and do, or die. The Little Father has no forgiveness for failure.

That, in Russia, is the one unpardonable fault. Our guns will open at six in the morning. That man will take his chance with the rest of our men."

"And," said Admiral Dumont, "even if we cannot take the works and use them, we may destroy them, and so rid the world of this detestable commercial tyranny which would make war a matter of poll-tax. We shall open fire at six. Ah, here we are at the wharf. Now let us go and see that everything is ready. Admiral Nazanoff, I believe you are my senior in service; it will therefore be yours to fire the first shot.

The _Caiman_ shall fire the second."

"And I shall ask you, admiral," said the count to Nazanoff, "as a personal favour, and also, as I will say frankly, a matter of personal vengeance, to be allowed to fire that first gun."

"My dear count," replied the admiral, "with the greatest pleasure. It shall be laid by the best gunner on board the _Ivan_, and your hand shall send the shot, I hope, into the vitals of these accursed works.

If we could only manage to drop a hundred-pound melinite sh.e.l.l into the right place, it would do a great deal."