Mrs. Fitz Part 52

"Reading between the lines of the dispatch," said Fitz, "I should be inclined to say that they had conspired to throw Ferdinand over at the last and to let in the people. I can reconcile the facts on no other hypothesis."

"Why should they?"

"The aristocracy have always been jealous of his power. He has walked too much alone."

"It is hard to believe that they would yield up their country to mob law."

"They have their own safety to consider. A small and exclusive cla.s.s, not accustomed to move very actively in public affairs, they have little control of events. And the army having joined with the people, their only hope is to sit on the fence and try to hold what they have."

"You are convinced of the Princess's danger?"

"There is no question of that. Having decided to make an end of their rulers, the French Revolution is quite likely to be enacted over again.

They are a semi-barbarous people, and few will deny that they have suffered."

On the morrow Fitz was early abroad. The morning papers brought confirmation of the news from Illyria. The King was dead; the Crown Princess was a close prisoner at Blaenau in the hands of the insurgents; the Chancellor and other ministers had fled the country; a number of regiments had ma.s.sacred their officers; and it was expected that a Committee of the People would take over the government.

At Charing Cross we found Alexander O'Mulligan already waiting for us.

He was in the pink of health and his grin was extraordinarily expansive. Fitz arrived with the necessary tickets for the whole party, but had only been able to procure pa.s.sports as far as the frontier. But, as he explained, this need not trouble us, as we should leave the train before we came there and make our way over the mountains in the darkness.

As our train wound its way through suburbia we began more clearly to realise the promise of a crowded and glorious week. The motive was adequate; and although the Chief Constable and myself had a sense of the profound rashness of the scheme, we shared the common faith in Fitz.

Our route was by way of Paris. It was more direct to go from Southampton, but there was very little difference in the point of actual time.

When we reached Paris, soon after five that afternoon, we learned that in spite of the representations of the Powers, the fate of the Princess still hung in the balance. We stayed only an hour and then took train again.

All night we travelled and all through the next day; and then, as Fitz had predicted, shortly after five o'clock in the evening of Thursday we had come to the towns.h.i.+p of Orgov, a mile from the Illyrian frontier on the borders of Milesia. Here we found a shrewd old peasant who had acted as the friend of Fitz on a former occasion, and with whom he had already communicated by telegraph. The old fellow shook his head over the state of affairs in the neighbouring kingdom, but provided us with a couple of trustworthy guides through the mountains and seven tolerable horses, one apiece for each member of our party.

Fitz affirmed his intention of getting to Blaenau in six hours. The innkeeper, however, declared frankly that this was impossible. The winter had been severe; heavy drifts of snow lay in the pa.s.ses, and in its present state the country itself was full of danger. Indeed, our friend the innkeeper was fain to declare that, unless G.o.d was very kind to us, we should never get to Blaenau at all.

However, we were a party of nine, stout fellows, well armed and tolerably mounted. And when we started from Orgov a little after six in the evening, I do not think the sense of peril oppressed us much.

Our mission was of the highest; each of us had faith in himself and in his comrades. We were a small but mobile force in fairly hard condition; and I think it may be claimed for each member of it that he had a natural love of adventure.

CHAPTER x.x.xIII

IN THE BALANCE

The air was shrewd as we set out from Orgov. We took a narrow, winding bridle-path, uncomfortably steep in places, in order to avoid the frontier town of Boruna, wherein trouble might lurk. The stars were out already, with Mars straight before us wonderfully large and red as we rode due east. There was an exhilaration in the atmosphere that was like wine in the veins; and presently we caught the tail of an icy blast that made us glad to wrap our cloaks around us.

An impartial view of such an enterprise rendered it clear that the odds were greatly in favour of a total failure. How could six men and a cripple hope to penetrate into the heart of a closely guarded fortress?

And a.s.suming that we got in, by what means did we expect to make our way out again! In all conscience the scheme was wild enough, but this was not the hour in which to lay stress upon that fact.

There can be no doubt that the qualities of our leader were a great aid to his corps. Undaunted courage, invincible optimism were his in amplest measure; and this att.i.tude of mind could not fail to react upon his comrades in arms. Moreover, in the most singular degree he appeared to combine with the audacity of genius, a head for detail and a shrewd practical wisdom, which very seldom embellish the characters of those who depend primarily upon the faculty of inspiration.

As mile by mile we traversed these snow-laden Illyrian mountains, the possibility of anything less than complete success found no place in his thoughts. "Nothing is impossible" was his motto, and this he realised with plenary conviction. His twin soul was calling him to the Castle of Blaenau, and not for an instant did he doubt his ability to obey the summons.

It was our plan to avoid as far as possible all centres of population.

Our guides being men of experience, familiar with all the by-paths and bridle-roads, we were able to do this, and even to save time in the process. But as the innkeeper had insisted, Fitz's optimism had misled him when he expected to reach the Illyrian capital in six hours.

When we took our first bait, at an inn above the sinister waters of the Lake of Montardo, it was nearly nine o'clock. Coffee and cakes were very acceptable; indeed I have seldom tasted anything so delicious.

But in spite of our diligence and a fair measure of luck, we had come rather less than twenty miles of the journey. Our horses were good for another twelve miles through the formidable pa.s.s of Ryhgo, where in the middle of winter the mountain streams are generally in spate.

We went on after a halt of a quarter of an hour. As yet we had seen few signs of the revolution. But at the inn above Montardo ugly rumours were rife. The people and the army were said to have turned against the aristocracy; they were butchering them by the score, and the Crown Princess was declared to be dead.

That our mission was being made in vain Fitz declined to believe. The man's courage had never seemed so remarkable as when confronted with this news.

"If she were already dead," he said, simply, "I should have had information. I shall not believe it until I hold her corpse in my arms."

Through the pa.s.s of Ryhgo, overshadowed as it is by the gaunt Illyrian mountains, the narrow path wound along the very edge of a precipice.

Below were the waters of the Lake of Montardo, which as we rode above it reflected a baleful grandeur to the stars. The wind was very piercing now and drove sheer in our faces; not a little did it add to the dangers of our progress through the pa.s.s. The horses had only to make a false step and their riders would be hurled a thousand feet into those terrible black waters gleaming below.

Before we had overcome this most precarious stage of our journey, the clouds were beaten up rapidly by the wind, and to add to our peril and discomfort it came on to snow. It was, therefore, a great relief when at last we came to an inn at a hamlet with an unp.r.o.nounceable name which marked the end of the pa.s.s. It was then eleven o'clock and we had come little more than half the way.

Here we found a friend awaiting us. He was an Illyrian acquaintance of Fitz's, and he had arranged the details of our mountain journey. A member of a n.o.ble family, he was familiar with the court life at Blaenau, and had borne the part of a friend in the previous episode which had culminated in the elopement of the Crown Princess.

He was an agreeable fellow, quite cosmopolitan, and had no difficulty in making himself understood in French, in which tongue he enjoyed a greater felicity than any of us. He answered to the name of John, although his full t.i.tle, which was very long and hard to p.r.o.nounce, I have forgotten. He, too, had heard the common report that the Princess was dead, but chose to express no opinion in regard to the truth of it.

When Fitz outlined his project, he expressed a mild astonishment.

"But how," said he, "will you cross the Maravina?"

"You don't suppose," said Fitz, "that we have come as far as this to be deterred by the crossing of the Maravina?"

"All the bridges are closely guarded by the Republicans. The ferries also."

"We can swim the Maravina, at a pinch."

"You English can do most things," said John, "but don't attempt to swim the Maravina in the middle of January is my advice."

John's view drew a growl of deep ba.s.s approval from no less a person than the Chief Constable of Middles.h.i.+re.

"We shall do what we can," said the Man of Destiny, with excellent indifference.

"Yes, but we d.a.m.n well needn't do what we can't," said the Chief Constable _sotto voce_, yet meaning no disrespect to his native tongue.

I must confess to an involuntary shudder, as, at the instance of a too-active imagination, the waters of the Maravina pierced a pair of leathers "by a local artist of the name of Jobson." They seemed miserably damp already. And if anything feels more miserable than a pair of leathers when they are damp, I pray to be spared the knowledge.

High as our mission was, the flesh was loth to quit the warm stove at the hostelry of "The Hanging Cross" for those terrible purlieus that wound through the heart of the wild Illyrian mountains. But at least we could congratulate ourselves that the pa.s.s of Ryhgo was at an end, and that the black waters of Lake Montardo no longer lay in wait for the hapless traveller a thousand feet below. Also the snow had ceased, the wind had fallen, Mars and his brethren were looking again upon us, and there was a faint suspicion of a crescent moon.

Our weary beasts had been exchanged for a fresh relay at the hostelry of "The Hanging Cross." In addition to a reinforcement in the shape of John, a led horse with a side saddle accompanied us for the use of the Princess. With fairer conditions and a path less perilous to traverse, we began to improve considerably upon our previous rate of progression.

Then the road began again to grow difficult, but happily the sky kept clear.

During the later stages of the journey we pa.s.sed through several hamlets and small towns. To judge by the lights in the windows of the houses and the demeanour of little groups of people in the streets, a general spirit of uneasiness was abroad. Men clad in the picturesque skin caps which are so typical of the country were to be seen carrying formidable-looking guns; and although such a cavalcade excited their curiosity they allowed it to pa.s.s.

We had no adventures worthy of the name. In one of the mountain valleys a deep creva.s.se was concealed by a drift of snow, and we owed it to the vigilance of our guides that we were not its victims. The wind was still very piercing, but acting upon Fitz's advice before we started, we had all taken the precaution to be well clad.

Our progress was really better than we realised. A sudden turn in the road revealed a very broad and rapid torrent. It was the Maravina; and there upon the farther bank was the bluff upstanding rock crowned with the majestic Castle of Blaenau. Nestling close about it was a dark huddle of houses and gaunt church spires of the capital city of Illyria.