Fire Below (11 page)

She stopped there, shaking terribly, with both her hands to her mouth and her eyes so like those of a madman that my hair seemed to rise upon my head.

It was shocking to see her so moved, and I was truly thankful when George’s arms went about her and he caught her hands to his breast.

‘Marya, darling, we’re safe. We’ve come to take you away.’

She continued to tremble, like a man sick of the palsy, and making George seem to tremble because she was in his arms.

‘Away?’ she whispered. ‘You can’t.’

George nodded cheerfully.

‘The car’s waiting, sweet. There’s no one to stop us now.’

‘No one?’ She looked round fearfully and again her eyes fell upon my gyves. ‘Why is Richard wearing those things? Carol swore–’

‘Did you think we would leave you, Marya? When we found that you weren’t at Bariche, of course we came back: and Bill got caught on the way, but they lost their grip. And now get a coat, my beauty, we mustn’t waste time.’

Marya stopped shaking, disengaged her hands and put them up to her eyes. When she spoke again, though she seemed to speak with an effort, her voice was calm.

‘You must go without me,’ she said. ‘Where – where is Grieg?’

‘Without you?’ cried George. ‘Without you? But we came back to get you, Marya. We–’

‘George, dear, don’t make it worse. I say you must go without me, and I mean what I say.’ With a sudden movement she turned and took his face in her hands. ‘Do you love me, George?’ she whispered, and seeing, I suppose, his answer in the light of his eyes, she drew his head down to hers and kissed his lips.

For a moment they clung together. Then very gently Marya put him aside.

‘I can’t come,’ she said quietly. ‘I’ve passed my word.’

‘To Grieg?’

She nodded.

‘Grieg is disgraced – broken. If he’s found, he’ll be arrested. His only chance is to leave the country at once.’

Marya stood very still.

‘In that case,’ she said, ‘it’s to my interest to stay. You see, Grieg is my husband. We were married here in the chapel at eight o’clock.’

I remember thinking that George would never move.

He stood like a man that has seen some Gorgon’s head and has in the act of vision been turned to stone. His lips were parted, and one of his hands was half way up to his head, and the dust with which his features were powdered gave him the look of a being that was not of flesh and blood.

Then I saw his chin go up, and I turned to the door.

A moment later I was descending the stairs.

One thing had to be done, and done at once.

Marya’s ship was afire. It was no good her winning her action if she was to be consumed. The fire must be put out at once –
before it could spread
.

So I went out to do murder, if you can call it such.

George, of course, could do nothing. For if he was to play the hangman, he could hardly expect to marry the widow that he had made. Any woman must have recoiled from so grisly a bed.

Now I was so bent upon my purpose that I forgot my handcuffs until I slipped on the stairs and sought to stretch out a hand to lay hold of the banisters. At once my embarrassment hit me between the eyes. Unless I was to kill Grieg as one kills a pig, before I did anything else I must free my wrists.

What the old servant imagined I cannot tell; but I think the events of that night had disordered his failing wits. When I told him to draw the bolts and open the door, he only gaped at my gyves, and when Rowley had done the business and I bade the poor man make fast and open again to no one without first advising George, he began to speak of his sister, recalling the day of her wedding and the flowers she had worn in her hair.

The next moment I was seated by Rowley, and the car was flying along the thin, white road.

I am not given to imagining vain things, but fancies crowded about me during that drive. The hour was ghostly: neither day nor night could have claimed it, and the sleeping world was abused by its treacherous light. Nature herself seemed aware of my dreadful errand. The country I knew for handsome was a stage of tricksy shadows and looming shapes: when we stopped by a bridge for an instant, the suck of a neighbouring sluice sounded so monstrous that I was glad to be gone: and more than once I could have sworn to the beat of wings upon the air. The seats behind were empty, yet I had a horrid feeling that we were not alone, but that something was riding with us and sitting where Grieg had sat. All the time Grieg danced before me in a hundred postures of death. Now he was flat upon his back, with his black eyes wide and empty, regarding the sky: now his bulk was huddled, like that of some friendless wretch that is cold in his sleep: and once he lay as I have seen a dead man, sprawling against a bank like any puppet, with his head fallen sideways and a puzzled stare upon his face.

As I have said, I could not play the butcher, so Rowley drove me to Gola, and, whilst he was going about, Ramon the smith came down and set me free. Though he begged me to let him do it, I would not wait for him to cut off the cuffs themselves, but when he had severed the chain that held the two together, I shook his hand and left him, with a bracelet on either wrist.

The dawn was near now: colour was creeping into the woods and meadows, and distance beginning to take her lawful form. In a little while we should have no need of our headlights, and in less than an hour the sun would be over the mountains and making the valleys glad. But not for Grieg. He would not see the dayspring for which he was wishing so hard.

I was driving now and I think that I frightened Rowley, so high was our speed. My one idea was to have done with the business, for Grieg was haunting me now as I was very sure his ghost would never haunt me when once he was dead.

At last we flashed through the village a mile or so from which we had left him lashed to the post, and, since I could not be sure of his exact position, I slackened speed.

‘Not yet, sir,’ said Rowley, peering.

‘It was dark,’ said I. ‘I can’t be sure to a mile.’

‘I shall know it, sir,’ said Rowley. ‘It’s a furlong beyond some crossroads and round a bend.’

‘Watch for the crossroads,’ said I.

It seemed an age before I heard him cry out.

As I set my foot on the brake, I saw the crossroads ahead.

I overran them slowly and brought the car to rest.

‘Are you sure you’re right?’ I said.

‘Yes, sir,’ he stretched out an arm. ‘It’s round that bend we left him. There’s a pile of stones by the gate.’

I stepped down into the road.

‘Stay here,’ I said. ‘Turn the car and stay here. If you hear a shot, don’t worry. I shan’t be long.’

For a moment the man did not answer. Then—

‘Very good sir,’ he said quietly.

Before I had taken ten paces I heard him turning the car.

As I went, I tried to determine the course I should take.

I must free the man, of course. That went without saying. And when the man was free, I must give him some law. If he did not run, I must stand back the width of the road. If…

Here I perceived with a shock that I could do nothing of the kind. For Marya’s sake the man
had
to be destroyed. That he deserved to die was beside the point. A millstone had been hanged about the Countess’ neck, and nothing but Grieg’s decease could take it away. That it was he that had hanged it there made his death just: but had he made her marry a swineherd,
the clown would have had to die
. I was not there to punish Grieg. I was there to free the Countess from her most dreadful plight.

It seemed that after all I must play the butcher, and, as once before that morning, my stomach turned at the thought.

I could see the stones now – a low barrow of metalling, ready to mend the road. It occurred to me that that was his gravestone. A ditch lay behind the barrow. There I must lay the body and cover it thick with stones from the pile to hand.

I went on with dragging feet and my eyes on the ground.

I decided to tell him the truth and give him two minutes in which to prepare for death. After that I would shoot him through the head. After all, there was no cause for compunction. The man was worthy of death.

I raised my eyes to see an empty gate-post, some twenty paces ahead.

For an instant relief came flooding. Then I perceived that Rowley had made a mistake. A hundred yards further on was another bend in the road, and just at the turning another grey barrow of stone…

As I moved forward, I trod on a piece of cord.

I picked it up, staring.

More cord was dangling by the gatepost, caught by the latch of the gate. I found there were three short lengths, the edges of which were clean cut.

I do not think I should have been human, if I had not been honestly thankful to find that my prey was gone. But even while I stood frowning, twisting the cord in my hands and blessing the early riser that had put such a spoke in my wheel, I heard the sound of a car being hastily started from rest.

In a flash I had leaped to the bend, to see the car reach the crossroads and fling up the broad, black road down which we had come.

And two hundred yards away lay a figure in a white dust-coat, half on and half off the grass.

The sun was up before Rowley opened his eyes.

I had carried him over a meadow and down to a little brook, and but for the fresh, cold water I think that he would have lain senseless another hour.

I do not know which was the stouter, his heart or his head, for, though on the back of the latter there was an ugly swelling the size of a pocket-watch, he had hardly recovered his senses, before he was up on his feet.

‘Lie down,’ said I. ‘Lie down. You’re not fit to move. You won’t be fit for ten minutes. Perhaps not then.’

Wildly he stared about him.

‘But the car, sir. What’s happened? I was–’

‘You were laid out,’ said I. ‘Laid out by Grieg. It wasn’t your fault. Somebody must have undone him, for when I got there he was gone.’

The man’s hand flew to his side.

‘He’s taken my pistol, sir.’

‘I know,’ said I. ‘What’s more, he’s taken the car. He’s off to Baron Sabre’s – where we left Mr Hanbury, you know. I only hope that when Mr Hanbury hears him, he doesn’t assume that it’s us.’

‘Oh, my God, sir,’ says Rowley. ‘What have I done?’

‘Don’t blame yourself,’ said I. ‘If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. Besides, when he sees Mr Hanbury, he’ll get the shock of his life. And now lie down for ten minutes, and let me think.’

I was in a queer state of mind and nearer, I believe, to submission than ever before or since. There had been so many fences and I had been heavily thrown so many times. The last twelve hours had imposed a continuous strain, and the horrid duty which I had set out to perform had played the deuce with my nerves. Because of that, I suppose, this fresh disaster set up no answering action in my weary mind. I looked on it, saw that it was bad, deplored it and – considered the lilies of the field. I found the lush grass absorbing, the babble of the brook a chapter, the piping of the birds most rare. But of our enterprise I was tired. It was clear that in our haste we had bitten off more than we could chew: and now I was sick of chewing and cared not what was the end.

So I sat idle and listless, now watching the bustle of the water and now the birds about their business, and sometimes glancing at Rowley, face downward upon the turf.

Suddenly I remembered Leonie.

The thought of her roused me as an electric shock. My apathy died there and then. Our case was critical. I must do more than fold my hands if I was ever to see my wife again.

I knelt to the brook and made a rude enough toilet that did me a world of good. Then I looked round, to meet Rowley’s questioning eyes.

‘What is it?’ said I, smiling.

‘You had meant to kill him, sir, hadn’t you?’

‘I had,’ said I. ‘For my sins.’

‘Ah, sir,’ says he with a sigh, ‘you should have left it to me. It wouldn’t have spoiled my breakfast.’

‘Wouldn’t it now?’ said I, and got to my feet. ‘Well, come on and do it, Rowley, before it’s too late.’

It was eight o’clock that morning before we re-entered the park, and half past eight before we sighted the house.

I had already decided that we must stay in the background until we had learned, so to speak, the state of the game: for if this was going against us, to blunder upon the scene would be the act of a fool and I had no desire to play for the second time clean into the enemy’s hands. Directly, therefore, I saw the chimney-pots, we laid ourselves down in the bracken and started to crawl, and, very soon making the ridge which I had remarked from the car the night before, perceived the mansion before us two furlongs away.

To stay so far off was useless, but a moment’s survey sufficed to show us how to approach.

Except at this point the home park was heavily timbered. We had, therefore, but to go back and bear to the right or left. In this way, if we went with care, we should be able to come to within a stone’s throw of the house and then, still keeping cover, to go about it and view it from every side. The mansion was neighboured, however, by a girdle of naked turf.

Ten minutes later we lay upon the edge of this sash.

It was a grey, old place, for the most part two stories high, and had, I judged, been added to more than once, for its various portions did not agree together, some being very humble and some ornate. It seemed as though the main entrance had formerly stood to the west, for though now nothing but windows looked out that way, an apron of cobbled pavement had made good standing for coaches in days gone by, and a road ran away from that side and out of the shallow basin in which the mansion stood. This was, of course, the drive which led to Vigil, which Grieg had used that morning, which, had we but had our map, we should have sought and taken the night before.

Here I should say that Grieg’s car was not to be seen: indeed, a curl of smoke from a chimney and two or three open windows were all the signs of life that we could descry, and, since a great deal may happen in four or five hours, it came to me that we might be wasting our time upon a stable from which the horses were gone. My better judgment, however, insisted that we should lie close, and, since from where we were hidden we could watch the south and west sides, I bade Rowley stay where he was and started to make my way round, to view the rest of the house.

Now I could not do this without crossing the second drive. I, therefore, fell back until I was out of the hollow and over the ridge, for I guessed that if Grieg was watching, his eyes would be bent upon the road that led towards Vigil, for that was the way down which his fortune would come.

I had crossed the road on my stomach, just out of sight of the house, and was hastening back into the hollow through a parcel of whispering firs, when I saw the sparkle of nickel, and there was Grieg’s car.

It was empty and its engine was cold.

For a little I could not conceive why the car should be there. Then it flashed into my mind that Grieg had thus bestowed it against his arrest. Had he left it at the door of the mansion or even within some yard, he could scarcely have reached it, much less have driven it off, except by consent of those who had come to make his arrest, but by leaving it hidden
beyond
the girdle of turf, he had only himself to gain cover, make his way round to its lair and then drive quietly away while those who had come to take him were searching the house. To support this conclusion, the car had been backed into hiding and so stood all ready for a precipitate flight.

After a moment’s reflection, I opened the bonnet and took the contact-breaker away. I slid this into my pocket and shut the bonnet again. The car was now at my service, but at that of nobody else, yet showed no sign of having been disabled or even of having been touched. When I glanced at the petrol-gauge this showed that the tank was half full. I then recovered Grieg’s pistol which Rowley had put in a locker behind the back seat, and so licked clean the platter which luck had thrust under my nose.

We were once more both of us armed and we had control of the car. This was conveniently hidden and ready for use. Lastly, though he did not know it, Grieg’s means of escape was gone.