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Authors: Dornford Yates

Storm Music (1934) (7 page)

BOOK: Storm Music (1934)
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The tunnel seemed without end. It was dark and damp and noisome and ran uphill, and I was more than thankful when after five or six minutes I saw the faint light of the evening and found the air more fresh. The mouth of the tunnel was masked by a riot of under- growth, but when we were clear of this screen I saw at once that we stood due north of the castle, a biscuit's throw from the meadows from which it rose.

We pushed on breathlessly ...

We had covered half the distance when Helena caught my arm and stopped in her tracks.

Somebody was whistling— not very far away, whistling as though to bring a dog to his heels ...

Then we heard Pharaoh's voice.

"Good dog." he cried. "Good dog."

The man was out in the meadows, somewhere between the bridge and the Plumage ride. In a flash I saw what had happened. Sabre had left the castle, and Pharaoh had seen him go. The porter, no doubt, had told him that that was the Countess' dog, and the fellow had guessed in an instant that Sabre's instinct was leading him to his mistress, wherever she was, and so he had followed Sabre, but had lost him because it was dark ...

"Come on," said I. "Now that he's lost Sabre, he hasn't a chance."

"If he hears the horses," breathed Helena. . . .

As we stumbled into the ride, I found the dog padding beside us. He may have been there for five minutes for all I know. And there was Axel waiting ten minutes before his time.

"Good dog," cried Pharaoh. "Good dog."

I judged the man to be fifty paces away.

In a flash I had Helena up on the lively grey.

As she stooped to whisper to Axel I turned to the other horse, but, perhaps because he was startled, he would not stand. As I swung myself up he backed sideways against the grey, and before I could find my right stirrup its dangling iron had clashed with that of Helena's, making a ringing sound.

The whistle which Pharaoh was letting out suddenly stopped.

I heard the man running towards us as we turned the horses about.

And then we were both sitting down and riding for Plumage as hard as ever we could.

We dared not spare the horses— the hunt was up.

The going was perfect and both of us knew the course, but to ride fast was taking a fearful risk, for we could see nothing at all, except that the darkness seemed denser on either side. And we had to depend on that difference to keep us straight. Then at last the

stars were above us and we were out in the meadows, three furlongs away from the farm.

As we came to the apron—

"I'll take the horses," said Helena. 'You go and get your things."

As she caught my bridle, I flung myself off the bay ...

In my bedroom I wasted no time, but snatched up a razor and seized the first clothes I found; yet ere I was back the horses were fast in the stables and Helena was returning to take her seat in the Rolls.

As I started the engine "And Sabre?" I said.

"We can't wait. It— it can't be helped."

Desperately I switched on the headlights, to see the Alsatian some twenty five paces away. With a sob of relief my lady flung open a door. . . .

Thirty seconds later the Rolls slid over the bridge.

I HAD often read and heard speak of "an agony of apprehension," but never until that evening, when our headlights sent darkness packing out of that lovely lane, had I understood that terrible state of mind. Then all at once the truth stood clear before me, and something more sinister than fear took hold of my heart.

The lane was no lane, but a trap— full two miles long. Once we were in we could no more turn the Rolls round than a man that was buried could turn himself round in his grave: only the smallest of cars could ever have passed each other, and if Pharaoh arrived at its mouth while we were yet in its straits our case from being desperate would be past hope.

I set my teeth, and we took the rise before us with the rush of a lift.

As the Rolls swept over the crest, for an instant I lifted my foot— and then in a flash all my suspense was over and its grip was torn from my heart.

Two miles ahead a car had turned into the lane.

The night was still as death, and I heard the song of her third gear rise to a scream and then the sudden silence as her driver changed into top.

Helena caught my arm.

"That's the Carlotta. I know it. What can we do?"

For some extraordinary reason my senses were now as lively as they had been lately dull. I knew no hesitation: my confidence was sublime. I suppose that I rose to the occasion, that the crisis had kicked me out of the slough of slow-thinking in which I usually moved.

"We back," I said quietly. "What a mercy we hadn't got farther. As it is, we've plenty of time. They can't do a mile a minute along this lane."

"But John—"

I patted her blessed hand.

"Don't worry, my dear. It's all right. Little Arthur has got an idea." and, with that, I put out my headlights and started to take the Rolls back by the glow which her tail-lamp threw.

Two minutes later I backed her over the bridge.

"Can you see their headlights?" I asked.

"Not yet."

I began to swing round to the right, leaving the roadway and backing on to the turf. When I had gone thirty paces, I threw out the clutch.

At once we heard the Carlotta and a moment later we saw the glow of her lights.

"Well done," said Helena quietly.

"Please don't say that," said I, and switched off what lights we had. "I've only repaired my mistake. To have entered that lane was madness. If I wasn't sure Pharaoh'd look round, I'd wait here for Bugle and Rush. But somehow I think we'll beat them. They don't know there's any hurry and they haven't a chauffeur to drive them that knows the way."

Helena made no answer, and the two of us sat in silence, listening and watching, while Pharaoh "came down like a wolf on the fold."

I do not think we were excited— the danger was past. We now were simply waiting for a car to get out of our way.

And so she did.

Well clear of the beam of her headlights, we watched her sweep down the slope and over the bridge; and as he went by to the apron, I let the Rolls leap forward and take her place on the road.

My lights were dimmed, and I do not think that they saw us, for their eyes, of course, were looking the opposite way: but in any event the start which we had was deadly, for they must turn the Carlotta and we had the faster car.

We never saw Rush and Bugle, but some car or other was coming as we swung out of the lane and on to the open road. It was travelling east, as we were, and I always like to think it was carrying Pharaoh's men, for in that case, as like as not, it met the Carlotta full in the midst of the lane — an encounter which cannot have been cordial and must have set Pharaoh on the gridiron from impotent rage.

As we floated into the silence, I touched my companion's sleeve.

"And now where?" said I. "And why? And what does this mean? I'm thankful that you've come with me, but don't say you're going back. Because if you do, I go with you."

Helena gave a little laugh.

"No, my dear," she said. "I'm not going back. Pharaoh is in possession, and there he can stay. I don't like leaving the castle, but Axel will speak to old Florin and all will go on all right. And without me Pharaoh can do nothing. It's no good his being there. He can't find the way to the cellar, neither can he levy blackmail. But I don't think he'll go just yet. At least, I hope he doesn't— before we come back with your cousin and Barley too. Three strong men armed ... on the ramparts ... while Pharaoh is still at my table, sipping my port ..."

"Then we're for Salzburg?" said I.

"No," said Helena, quickly. "I think that would be too obvious. Besides, I don't want to be traced. We'll go to my nurse at Pommers. Her husband's a farmer there, and they'll see us through. And we'll wire to your cousin to join us and start from there."

"Where's Pommers?" said I.

"Across country. I'll show you the way. We ought to be nearing cross roads. And there we must turn to the left."

SO for some thirty five miles.

Then the engine of the Rolls coughed twice, and the car slowed down.

As I frowned, the truth came pelting— to sear my brain.

I drew to the side of the road. Then I applied the brake and put my head in my hands.

"What is it John? What is it?"

Twice I tried to tell her, and twice I failed.

At last "Petrol." I said hoarsely. "I meant to fill up before we patrolled this evening: but with all this Pharaoh business ... "

Together we stared at the gauge.

Then—

"I'm very sorry," I said. "I've no excuse."

The map's report was as bitter as that of the gauge. The nearest village lay roughly eleven miles off: and whether it boasted a pump we could not tell.

As I made to get out of the car "John, dear," said Helena gently, "please don't take this to heart. You know as well as I that you've every excuse. When without any warning one's called on to run the gauntlet, one's apt to forget one's chores."

"You wouldn't have forgotten," said I.

"Of course I should. When I heard the Carlotta coming, my wits just scattered and fled: and, to tell you the truth. I haven't rallied them yet."

"No one would know it," said I, and got out of the car.

I began to walk down the road ... Some forty-five paces ahead a track led into the forest— a decent track: what was more, it ran slightly downhill. If I could manhandle the Rolls as far as its mouth, her weight would help me to carry her out of sight. But the road, though level, was cambered, and the track, as luck would have it, lay on its opposite side.

"We can never do it," said Helena, finger to lip.

"If we can't find another track, we shall have to try."

In silence we sought together, and sought in vain.

"There nothing for it," said I, and led the way back to the car.

Whilst Helena steered and stood by to apply the brake, I moved the Rolls by the spokes of one of her wheels. The strain was great, for the car was very heavy, but so long as we held straight on, I had my way: the moment, however, that Helena touched the steering to lead the car over the road, the camber made such a gradient as I could not overcome. Though I begged her not to, I know that my slight companion added her weight: but the ground was dead against us, and though I fought like a madman, I had not the strength of body to force the car up the rise. At last, in desperation, I moved her perhaps six inches towards the crown of the road, but then the weight of her beat me, and she began to return: and in my effort to hold her before I could cry for the brake I strained or tore some muscle in the small of my back.

I smothered a grunt of pain— too late for Helena's ears, for before I had drawn myself up, my lady was standing beside me and asking me how I did.

"You've hurt yourself, John."

"A muscle," said I. "It's nothing. As long as I don't use it, I'll be all right." Ruefully I regarded the Rolls. "But we'll have to leave her here. As far as shifting her goes. I've shot my bolt."

"You are very strong," she said, "and very patient. I know no other man that could have moved her so far, and few would have tried with their hands all torn from forcing those rotten gratings down in the moat."

I had not thought she had noticed the state of my hands.

"And you're very lenient," said I, and with that I stepped to the bonnet and took out my keys.

The instant I stooped, however, my injured muscle stung me as though it were no muscle but a fragment of red hot wire, and she had to lock the bonnet on either side.

"Are you sure you can walk?" said Helena.

"Comfortably," said I. "And if I saw Pharaoh coming, I quite expect I could run. But certain things I can't do. I can't open this door, for instance. Will you do it? And give me my pistol? And then the torch?"

"And you've never changed," cried Helena. "I suppose you can't do that now. Oh, John dear, I'm so upset. Are you sure it's only a muscle?"

"Certain," said I. "It's nothing. I'll have to rest a little: but once we've wired to Geoffrey, we've only to lie low and wait. The burning question is where to look for a lodging that's not by the side of this road. I mean, if they find the car, they're certain to visit all buildings that have any sort of frontage on this highway."

Together, by the light of the torch, we studied the map. Upon this there was shown a farm, called Holy Tree. So far as we could make out, it stood some seven miles off. That there were homesteads closer, we had no doubt, but we did not know how to find them or in which direction to turn. And so we set out to journey to Holy Tree. And since this lay to the east, but the road ran north and south, we took the track we had found and made our way through the forest as best we could.

We had walked for an hour and a half before the track we were using came to an end. This in the midst of a clearing, and we could only suppose that the way had been made for the trucks when the timber was felled. If we had been moving east, Holy Tree was only some three miles off; but I was by no means certain that we had been moving east, and when I had found the pole-star, it seemed more likely that we had been walking south. We changed our direction at once, but after ten minutes we came again to the trees, and since these hid the heaven, we now had nothing to help us to keep our course. What was more, the going was rough and, in spite of the torch, because I was weary I stumbled, and every time I did so the muscle which I had injured protested with all its might.

"Lean on me," said Helena quietly. When I demurred, she took my arm and set it across her shoulders without a word, but I am a heavy man and the next time I missed my footing I very near brought her down.

"It is useless," said I, halting. "We must wait till the dawn comes in." I stepped to a mighty beech and flung the clothes I was bearing down at its foot.

"You must lie down here, my lady and take some rest. And Sabre and I will watch."

"I see," said Helena, slowly. Then she put up her hands and slid my coat from my shoulders and drew it clear of my arms. "You've got to change," she said shortly, "before you do anything else. If you don't, these wet things of yours will simply finish your back."

BOOK: Storm Music (1934)
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