CHAPTER XXII
GETTING ACCESS TO ISABEL
It was almost exactly half an hour later, when the Betty's gig, skilfully piloted by the second officer, drew up alongside the jetty. Tony, Jimmy, and Molly scrambled out in turn—the latter carrying a small prayer-book in her hand and lending a pleasant air of respectability to the party.
Braxa still lay bathed in a rich tranquillity: the only other occupants of the sun-warmed causeway being a couple of nondescript gentlemen, who had been leaning over the low rail, watching the approach of the boat and spitting thoughtfully into the sea. These two eyed the new arrivals with a certain languid curiosity, but beyond that they betrayed no apparent interest in their proceedings.
"It's amazing to me," said Tony, looking round, "that any one could have had the bad taste to start a revolution here. It's like brawling in a mortuary."
"Oh, you mustn't judge Livadia by this place," protested Jimmy. "There are enough scoundrels in Portriga to make up for any shortage elsewhere." He took out a small rusty key from his pocket. "Come along," he added. "If we hang about admiring the view we shall probably have Saltero's policemen after us."
He led the way down the jetty towards a roughly built wooden shed which stood a few yards back on the beach, and unfastening the padlock, threw open the door. Inside, amongst a medley of fishing nets and other nautical obstructions, stood a large travel-stained motor car with steel studded tyres. It was evidently in good order, for it started with the first pull up of the handle, and having seated himself at the steering-wheel, Jimmy brought it deftly out on to the hard beaten sandy track which ran up into the main road.
"One penny all the way," he observed encouragingly. "Any more for Chancery Lane or the Bank of England?"
Tony closed and locked the door of the shed. "I shall sit behind with you, Molly," he announced. "Then we can hold hands under the rug."
They settled themselves comfortably in the tonneau, and starting on his second speed Jimmy shot off up the beach with surprising and rather disconcerting velocity.
At the top of the track, where it joined the road, several of Braxa's more energetic citizens were sheltering from the rays of the sun. As the car approached they all moved forward in a desultory fashion to scan its occupants; and one of them, a stout gentleman in uniform, with a sword trailing by his side, stepped out officiously into the roadway and held up his hand.
If he was under the impression that his action would cause the car to pull up, he must have been bitterly disappointed. Without faltering, or even slackening speed, its driver swerved round him at a distance of about two inches, and left him shouting and gesticulating wildly in the centre of a cloud of dun coloured dust.
A few yards further on, the road turned away inland, and as soon as they had negotiated the corner, Jimmy glanced back over his shoulder.
"We've torn it now," he observed complacently. "That was one of the policemen."
Tony nodded. "I thought it must be," he said. "He looked so well fed."
"Is there anything he can do?" inquired Molly; "except to try and arrest the Betty?"
"He might send a message to Portriga asking for instructions," answered Jimmy. "It all depends on whether he's got a suspicious nature."
He turned back to concentrate his attention on the steering, for they were passing through the main street of Braxa, and one or two small carts, with sleepy-looking pairs of oxen attached to them, were straggling amiably about the roadway.
"I'm sorry now that we didn't run over him," said Molly regretfully.
"We might go back and do it," replied Tony; "but I think on the whole we had better trust to Providence. If Providence is really with us one policeman can't make very much difference."
This argument seemed to convince Molly, for she attempted no further conversation until they were clear of the village, and travelling rapidly along the sandy and ill kept road which ran northwards towards Portriga.
Then, with a smile, she turned again towards Tony.
"I'm thinking of the ambush at Valona," she said. "I hope it's a nice comfortable one, because they'll have to stop there a long time if they are going to wait for me."
Tony sat up suddenly in his seat. "By Jove!" he said, slowly, "we never settled that point, did we! What are you going to do about it?"
"Well, if things turn out anything like right," returned Molly cheerfully, "I shall simply tell the escort that they had better find some other way of getting me into Portriga. I don't want to be mixed up in a free fight just before I'm married." She laughed gently. "I should like to hear what Saltero says about you, Tony," she added. "He'll shove everything down to your account, you know."
Tony nodded. "I hate to treat him like this," he observed sadly, "but it really can't be helped. In a big crisis the lesser virtues always have to give way to the greater."
"You must explain that to him," said Molly, "if you ever run up against him again. It will probably console him quite a lot."
By this time the last traces of Braxa were already some distance in the rear, and the countryside had assumed that forlorn and neglected aspect which forty years of misgovernment have so successfully impressed upon the greater part of Northern Livadia. Here and there they came across an occasional peasant woman, slouching along under a heavy burden: presumably carrying on the family business while her lord and master was assisting to make history in the Capital. With these exceptions, however, the road was absolutely deserted, a fact of which Jimmy took full advantage by pushing the car along at the utmost limit of speed which the deplorable surface would permit.
The only relief to the monotonous landscape was the long range of hills towards which they were steadily making their way. These rose sharply in the near distance against the cloudless blue sky, and somewhere amongst them, as Tony knew, lay the Château of Saint Anna and the goal of their expedition.
At last Jimmy slackened down, and looked round again from the driving seat.
"You'd better get ready for trouble," he said. "The turning's about half a mile on from here, and it's a hundred to one they'll have a patrol out at the corner."
Tony acknowledged the information with a reassuring wave of his hand; while Molly, after settling herself into a decorous attitude, opened her prayer-book at random and commenced to study "The Publick Baptism of Infants" with a deep and absorbed interest.
Jimmy proceeded forward at the same leisurely pace, until, bit by bit, the branch road that he had spoken of crept into view, turning off to the right, and then winding its way up through the hills, like a piece of yellowish ribbon dropped down carelessly from the sky.
At the point where it joined the main road stood a straggling coppice of stunted oak trees. To the unsuspicious eye there was nothing about it to suggest the least danger; but quite suddenly, while the car was still about a hundred yards distant, the apparently peaceful prospect underwent a startling change. With the crash and swirl of breaking undergrowth, a number of uniformed figures scrambled out hastily into the sunlight, and running forward with their rifles in their hands, formed up into an irregular cordon across the roadway.
It was a well planned manoeuvre, for even if the occupants of the car had wished to escape, it would have been practically impossible for them to do so. As it was Jimmy thrust on his brake and slowed down immediately into a mere crawl. Then turning round to Tony he observed with an air of respectful apology: "I'm afraid we shall have to pull up, Lord Haverstock. I expect they have got the steam-roller at work round the corner."
Before Tony could reply, a savage-looking gentleman, who appeared to be an officer, detached himself from the rest, and barked out some instruction in a hoarse and unintelligible voice, then followed by several subordinates, all gripping their rifles ready for immediate action, he strode rapidly forward towards the now stationary car.
Its three occupants awaited its approach with commendable dignity. Jimmy sat stiff and upright, still holding the steering-wheel, Tony lolled back in his seat with an air of slightly annoyed boredom, while Molly, after one incurious glance at the situation, had resumed her interrupted study of the Publick Baptism of Infants.
A few yards distant, the officer, who at closer quarters looked like a rather dog's eared edition of Kaiser Wilhelm the Second, halted his men in the roadway. Then advancing by himself to the side of the car, and dropping the point of his scabbard with a menacing clink on the ground, he addressed himself to Jimmy.
As he spoke in Livadian, Tony was unable to follow what he said. From his manner, however, it was pretty easy to guess that he was demanding to know who they were and what business had brought them into the neighbourhood. It was also fairly plain that he had made up his mind not to be trifled with, and that the first sign of any attempt to escape, would be the signal for a volley of bullets from the soldiers.
Jimmy listened in silence, until the harsh string of words which were showered at his head had come to an end. Then with a significant glance at the soldiers he leaned towards his questioner, and made some low reply in the same language. It evidently had something to do with the inadvisability of treating the matter to too public a discussion, for after hesitating a moment, the officer wheeled round and ordered his henchmen to withdraw three paces into the background. Then, still looking extremely stern and suspicious, he turned back to Jimmy.
Exactly what the latter said was of course as unintelligible to Tony as the previous questions had been. It was evident, however, from the occasional introduction of such phrases as "Lord Haverstock of London," and "the Château of Saint Anna," that he was telling the story they had agreed upon in the yacht and judging by his manner he was letting off this romantic fiction with the convincing plausibility that one would expect from anybody who for several years had been intimately connected with the motor trade.
Of its effect upon the officer there could be no doubt. The threatening hostility on his face gave way gradually to an expression of surprise, not untinged with a certain dawning respect, and when he spoke again it was in an altogether different if still slightly suspicious tone.
For several minutes the dialogue continued its course, and then, breaking off suddenly, Jimmy leaned back over the seat, and addressed himself to Tony.
"This gentleman," he said, "is Major Paqueta of the King's army."
Tony inclined his head in the polite if somewhat haughty fashion of a true English nobleman—a salute which Major Paqueta acknowledged by a stiff military bow.
"He would like to have a look at the King's letter," continued Jimmy. "I've explained the position to him, but he has orders not to allow any one to pass this corner."
With a slight air of aristocratic condescension Tony took out the document in question from his pocket and handed it to Jimmy, who in turn passed it on to the Major.
The gallant soldier unfolded it and carefully scrutinized its contents. One could see from his face that he was deeply impressed, but even so there were still distinct traces of doubt and hesitation in his manner when he looked up and again addressed himself to Jimmy.
A brief discussion followed, and then once more the latter turned round to explain.
"It's like this, Lord Haverstock. Major Paqueta believes that the letter is genuine, but his orders are very strict. He says that if we want to go on to the Château we must take him with us."
"Why, certainly," replied Tony without an instant's hesitation. "Tell Major Paqueta that I shall be delighted, and that if he wishes to return here we can give him a lift back. At least," he added drily, "I hope we shall be able to."
Jimmy passed on this communication—or at all events the first part of it—and for a second time the Major clicked his heels and genuflected stiffly. Then after a word or two of apparent explanation, he collected his three soldiers and proceeded up the road as far as the corner, followed at a dignified pace by the car. Here he handed over his command to a bloodthirsty-looking sergeant, and having given the latter some careful instructions, clambered up into the front seat alongside of Jimmy.
Turning down the branch road the now personally conducted expedition sped along rapidly towards its goal. There was little conversation, for Jimmy was too occupied in avoiding the ruts to return anything but the briefest answers to their new friend's occasional remarks, while Molly, despite the jolting of the car, still remained buried in her baptismal studies. She looked up once at Tony, who winked at her gravely, but this familiarity only met with a chilling clerical reserve that did not encourage further advances.
About every half mile they came across small parties of soldiers, patrolling the road, all of whom drew up across their path as they approached. On each occasion, however, the sight of Major Paqueta, sitting up like a ramrod in the front seat, was sufficient to insure their undisputed passage: that obliging gentleman being evidently the senior officer in command of the district.
As the road gradually began its ascent into the hills, these patrols increased in numbers, and Tony realized that Congosta's statement about the difficulty of rushing the place by force was by no means an exaggerated one. A very small body of well-armed and determined men could indeed have held the track against an army corps, for the great rocky boulders that towered up on either hand afforded admirable cover, and offered a ready means of blocking up the road if such a course were rendered necessary.
At last, after about two miles of this upward progress, they came out over the crest of a long narrow gorge, and with startling abruptness the Château of Saint Anna suddenly swept into view. It stood on the summit of the next hill—a large castle-like looking building of white stone, with a number of small attendant cottages straggling down into the valley below. It was not more than a mile distant, and despite Tony's constitutional calmness a momentary thrill ran through his heart as he gazed across the short intervening space which was all that now separated him from Isabel.