CHAPTER XXVI
THE TABLES TURNED
THE tables were turned now, and as the mob howled and clamoured and hammered at the door, a braver man than Bremenhof might well have lost his nerve.
He was pale, and trembled, partly with anger, but more with terror, as he stared at me in doubt what I would do next.
The chances of the struggle had left me nearest the door; and as I had retained possession of Burski’s revolver, I had command of the situation.
“You won’t let them in,” he said, as the hammering at the door increased in violence, and the crowd yelled for it to be opened. “They’ll tear us to pieces if you do. For God’s sake.”
“You are willing to keep your word now, I suppose?”
“Yes, yes, in everything. Everything,” he replied eagerly.
Then Burski, who was as cool and collected as his chief was agitated, made a move the purpose of which I was to see later. He whispered to his companions, and Bremenhof hurried back up the staircase and the other man ran away to the back of the house.
“Now, Mr. Anstruther, we must face this out together. What are you going to do?”
Those outside were battering at the door with a violence that threatened to break it down every moment. A heavy stone was hurled through the small glass light above it, and a loud cheer greeted the smash.
I turned and threw the door open and then his object was made plain.
As I opened it, he sent up a great shout.
“Help! help!” he called, in ringing stentorian tones. “Thank God you have come, friends. The rest of the cursed police have bolted, but I’ve kept this one from escaping. My fellow prisoners are upstairs.”
It was a clever ruse; and in an instant a dozen hands shot out eagerly to grab me. I sprang back and Burski tried to block my retreat; but I thrust him away and reached the stairs.
“Stop. This is a trick,” I shouted. “That is the police agent. I am an Englishman. It was I who fired the shots just now and called for help.”
A babel of oaths and confused cries greeted this; and the men in front halted a moment in hesitation.
Burski saw the hesitation. “He lies, like the police dog he is, to save his skin,” he called. “Look at the weapon in his hand. Some of you will know the police pattern.”
A yell of execration followed this cunning stroke, as the crowd threatened me.
“I took it from him,” I said; but I was not believed and a rush was made at me again.
To stop this I backed up the narrow stairway and levelled the weapon at them. Those in front flinched and hung back at the sight of it.
“Do you want any further proof,” cried Burski. “Is there any leader of the Fraternity here? I can soon convince him.” His cool audacity was wonderful.
A cry was raised from some one; and a pause followed while a new comer elbowed his way to Burski. A shout greeted his coming, and all eyes were upon the two as they interchanged a few words in low tones. What passed I do not know, probably some secret sign was given; and it sufficed.
“This man is one of us,” was the verdict; and at the decision a deafening yell of rage and curses broke out as the mob turned to me again.
“Police spy. Liar. Dog. Down with him!”
“Hear me,” I shouted; but my voice was drowned in the curses of the mob.
Another rush was made at me, to be stopped again by the levelled revolver.
Then the new comer held up his hand.
“If you are a friend give up your weapon.”
“Clear the house of all except yourself and one or two more and I will. I can convince you.”
“Do you want to walk into a police trap, friend?” asked Burski, with a sneer. He had the crowd with him now and they echoed the sneer with a laugh.
But the leader was a persistent fellow in his way. “How many are in the house?” he asked Burski.
The latter shrugged his shoulders. “There were plenty just now; enough to treat me pretty roughly; and I’m no bantling.”
“There are no police in the house except that man and one other. He knows that,” I declared.
The leader turned to the crowd and tried to reason with them; but it was useless. Not a man would leave the house. Some began to murmur and growl at him for his interference; and the yells and cries against me redoubled in violence.
Then for a while things went all wrong with me. One of the fellows in the hallway picked up a mat and with a raucous laugh and an oath flung it at me. It hit me full in the face; and a burst of laughter and wild cheering hailed the shot.
Before I knew anything more, another man rushed up the stairs and caught me by the legs. Down I went backwards, my weapon flew out of my hand, and in an instant I was hauled down the stairs, feet first into the seething mass of infuriated men; grabbed here, thrust there, beaten, kicked and hustled all ways at once, to the accompaniment of such screeching, oathing and yelling as I hope I may never hear again, at least under similar conditions.
Matters would have been much worse with me, indeed, but for one stroke of luck. One of the crowd, a grimy, vile-smelling creature, in his eagerness to get a kick at my head fell asprawl over me as I lay against the wall; I grabbed him tight and hung on to him, using his fat carcass as a shield until his piercing screams for help let his friends see what was happening.
The attack ceased while they dragged him free. I managed to scramble to my feet at the same time, and with my back to the wall I used my fists right and left upon the front rank of hot, straining, sweating, staring faces in a desperate effort to win a way back to the stairs.
Against such numbers I could gain no more than a moment’s respite, however. But it proved enough.
A revolver shot rang out from the stairway and drew all eyes that way.
It was Volna.
Running from the room above she had seen my pistol on the stairs and her quick wits had suggested to her the means of stopping the tumult. She had discharged it over the heads of the crowd and had thus gained a hearing.
Her lovely face flushed and her eyes alight with indignation, she used the moment of astonishment to dash right into the midst of the crowd and reach my side.
“Shame, men, shame,” she cried. “Would you tear your friends to pieces? I am one of the prisoners and this is the other.”
The fickleness of a mob is a proverb. Her plucky act succeeded where all arguments and inducements would have failed. The crowd swung over to her side and cheered her lustily.
Burski was quick to appreciate the probable results to him; and I saw him begin to edge his way to the door to escape.
“Stop that man,” I called, pointing to him.
In an instant his path was blocked; and I hoped that he was going to have a taste of the treatment of which he had secured such a full meal for me.
He would have had it surely enough but for an interruption from outside.
The luck had turned right in our favour. Three or four men shouldered their way into the house and in their midst I saw my friend Ladislas. He was known to many of the crowd, who made way for him with a loud cheer.
In a few words I made the situation clear to him, and added that Bremenhof was in the room above, and that if the crowd got wind of it in their present temper, they would tear him to pieces.
He succeeded ultimately in inducing the people to leave the house; and putting Burski in charge of three men, Ladislas, Volna and I went up to Bremenhof.
He was in a condition of desperate terror and, as we entered, started up and stared at us wide-eyed, trembling and abject.
“You are in no danger, Colonel Bremenhof,” said Ladislas. “They shall take my life before I will see you harmed.”
“Not quite so fast as that, Ladislas,” I declared. “Colonel Bremenhof knew what his man, Burski, intended in setting the crowd on me, and I have a reckoning to settle.”
The hunted expression in his eyes which had been calmed somewhat by my friend’s words, returned as he asked: “What do you mean?”
“You shall know that in a moment. First understand that the mob are still outside—their blood is up. They have just been cheated of one victim, myself, handed over to them in your stead by the cunning of your man and with your connivance. I have but to open the door and speak your name to them: and what they did to me will be a trifle to what they’ll do to you.”
“Anstruther!” protested Ladislas.
“This is my matter, man. Leave it to me, please. If you’d been down under that mob’s feet, you’d feel as I do. Now you,” and Bremenhof cowered again as I turned to him. “Listen to me. Even when I was in danger of my life, I kept secret the fact that you were here in the house; and saved your life. Out of no regard for you, believe me; for I swear that if you refuse to do exactly what I tell you now, I will drag you down with my own hands and pitch you into the midst of the rabble.”
“What do you want?”
“But little more than you promised me last night. Madame Drakona’s release at once, and the delivery of the evidence you hold against her, an official statement that there is no charge of any kind against her daughter here; and a definite written admission of the part you have taken throughout this. You’ll play no more tricks on me.”
“Yes, I agree. I’ll do it the instant I get to the Department.”
“Thank you. I know how you keep such pledges. You will write the order for Madame Drakona’s release here at once and will send it by Burski, your trusted servant, with orders to conduct her to a place we’ll settle.”
“But at such a time difficulties may be raised and——”
“Yes or no, quick. As for the difficulties, you’ll remain in our hands until you have found how to get over them. Burski was clever enough to get me into a mess a few minutes since. Now you can use his cleverness to get you out of one.”
“Yes. Let me see him.”
“One word. You are earning your life; understand that. Attempt any treachery and——” I left the sentence unfinished.
“I’ll do it,” he agreed. “Anything. Anything.”
Volna fetched some writing materials and while Bremenhof wrote the order, I conferred with Ladislas and settled the details of the plan.
We dared not stay longer in that house because the police would soon be back in great force to Bremenhof’s rescue; and Ladislas named a place to which we could take him. But we could not have Madame Drakona brought to the same place, because Burski would in that event take the police with her. We arranged, therefore, that Madame Drakona should be taken to her own house.
Moreover, as the kernel of everything was to prevent Volna’s arrest, she could not go home to receive her mother; but that difficulty the telephone solved for us. We settled to wait at the place to which Ladislas would take us until a telephone message from the Drakonas’ house assured us that Madame Drakona was there and alone.
When the order was ready I fetched Burski. Bremenhof gave him his instructions, and I said enough to convince them both that Bremenhof’s safety depended entirely upon their keeping faith with us.
Ladislas then explained matters to the leaders of the mob. The crowd had meanwhile decreased in numbers, and those who remained were induced to disperse.
A carriage was fetched and we four started, leaving Burski in charge of a couple of the men who had come with Ladislas, to be dispatched on his errand as soon as our carriage was out of sight.
We had done well so far; but there was still much to do. A slight check to the plans at any moment might mean the ruin of everything. If the luck lasted, we should win, and only complete success could justify the desperate move I had taken.
Would the luck last?