Part 49 (2/2)
And while they delayed, Moore gossiped in whispers with the Regent, hoping to divert her, if only a very little, from the heavy strain she must be under-the blackness was enough, in itself, for a woman to endure, without the danger. And he marvelled at her calmness and ease, and the light laugh which came at times.
”It's good of you, Colonel,” said she finally, ”but I think I'm past fearing now. I was horribly afraid at first, and the rats almost made me faint with terror, but now I'm sort of dazed, dreaming, automatic, whatever it is-when the reaction comes, there likely will be hysterics-but that shan't be until all this is ended-it's this inaction that is the most trying.”
Moore touched Jessac.
”How long have we been waiting?” he asked.
”Well on to half an hour, sir.”
”Then swing the stone.”
This time it moved instantly and noiselessly. Moore put his head through the opening and listened;... save for the ticking of a clock, somewhere across the room, there was perfect quiet.... Suddenly it chimed twice; when the last reverberation had died, he stepped carefully inside; the Princess and the others followed.
The library was as dark as the pa.s.sage; with a touch of warning to the Regent, Moore pressed the torch and flashed the stream of white light around the walls-fortune favored them; the room was unoccupied, and every door was closed. Then the light struck the iron safe, and the Princess, with the faintest exclamation of apprehension, grasped her Adjutant's arm and pointed at it. If the Book were in it, their visit would be barren; there was neither opportunity nor means to break inside. For the first time, the idea of failure touched her-she had been so full of a.s.surance, so confident that once in the Duke's library and success was certain.
Even when Moore suggested a safe she had waved it aside heedlessly. Her mind had been centered on the desk-that the Book must surely be in it.
The light reached the big, flat-topped one in the middle of the room; with a quick spring she was at it, and Moore beside her.
Swiftly they went through the drawers-nothing ... nothing ... nothing ...
ah! a bundle in black cloth-she tossed it out and fairly tore loose the strings-a glance was enough-leather-metal hinges-the Book! the Book! at last!
In an agony of delight she flung the cloth around it.
”Come!-come!--”
A shrill whistle-the doors were thrown open wide; in bounded three men, a lighted candelabra in each hand, and behind them a dozen more with rifles leveled. At the same moment, the Duke himself stepped from behind a curtain, and closed the stone into place.
At the whistle, De Coursey, Marsov and old Jessac had sprung to Dehra's side and, with Moore, ranged themselves around her-and now they stood there, five masked figures, swords drawn, the center of a circle of impending death, every man ready to fling himself upon the guns and chance it, but restrained because of her they were sworn to guard.
The Duke gave a chuckling laugh.
”Altogether a very striking picture,” he remarked, with a wave of his hand around the room; ”the candles-the masks-the swords-the guns-the att.i.tudes;-it is a pity, Cousin Armand, you cannot see it as I do.”
”He thinks I am the Archduke,” Moore whispered to the Regent; ”let him think it.”
”Your coming to-night was a surprise,” the Duke was saying, ”I admit it-I had not expected you before to-morrow at the earliest-my compliments on your expeditiousness.” He drew out a cigarette and lighted it at one of the candles-then flung the box over on the desk; ”help yourselves, messieurs, la derniere cigarette,” he laughed with sneering malevolence.
”Keep perfectly still,” Moore cautioned, very low. ”If it come to the worst, I'll try to kill him first.”
”Did you address me, cousin?” Lotzen asked; ”a little louder, please-and keep your hand outside your coat; the first of you who tries for his revolver will precipitate a ma.s.sacre-even poor marksmen can't well miss at such a distance, and on the whole, these fellows are rather skilful.”
He smoked a bit in silence, tapping the splintered gla.s.s on the floor with the point of his sword. ”Behold, cousin, my preservers-a decanter and some slender Venetian goblets; queer things, surely, to decide the fate of a Kingdom. But for their fall, you would have won. Now--” he glanced significantly toward the ready rifles. ”Yet, on the whole, I wish you had waited until another night-it could have been done elsewhere so much more neatly-before you got here-or saw that, the package in the black cloth. You came upon me so suddenly, I had time only to take you-and now that I have you, frankly, cousin, I'm at a loss how to dispose of you-and your good friends.... Come, I'll be generous; choose your own way, make it as easy as you like-only, make it.”
A slight stir caused him to turn. Madeline Spencer, in a s.h.i.+mmering white negligee, was standing in the doorway.
”Ah, my dear, come here,” he said; ”this is altogether the best point of view for the picture: 'The End of the Game' is its t.i.tle-is it not, cousin?”
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