Sophy of Kravonia Part 36

laughed Max. "Not even the mark shall change my mind! Come, you love the mark--the Red Star--don't you?"

"Well, yes," said Sophy, with a little, confidential nod and smile.

"I hear something," said Peter Va.s.sip, with his hand to his ear.

Sophy turned to him, smiling. "What do you hear, Peter?"

He gave a sudden start of recollection. "Ah, has that anything to do with Monsieur Zerkovitch?"

"Monsieur Zerkovitch?" broke from them both.

"He's been here; he's ridden at a gallop on to Volseni--to find the Prince." He added briefly all there was to add--his hand at his ear all the time.

"Hum! That looks like news," said Max. "What can it be?"

"He didn't stop even to tell Marie! It must be urgent."

They looked in one another's faces. "Can there be--be anything wrong in Slavna?"

"You mean--the troops?"

"I had thought of that."

"I can think of nothing but that. If it were anything from the Palace, it would come by a royal courier sooner than by any other hand."

"I can hear plainly now," said Peter Va.s.sip. "Listen!"

They obeyed him, but their ears were not so well trained. A dull, indefinite sound was all they could distinguish.

"Horses--a number of them. Mounted men it must be--the hoofs are so regular. Cavalry!"

"It's the Prince coming back from Volseni!" cried Sophy.

"No, it's from the other direction; and, besides, there are too many for that."

Mounted men on the Slavna road--and too many to be the Prince's guard!

"What can it be?" asked Sophy in a low voice.

"I don't know. Zerkovitch's arrival must be connected with the same thing, I think."

"There! There are their shakoes coming over the rise of the hill!" cried Peter Va.s.sip.

The next moment showed the company. They rode in fours, with sergeants on the flanks. The officer in command was behind--the three on the causeway could not see him yet. They were Hussars of the King's Guard, the best regiment in the army. The Prince of Slavna had made them good soldiers--they hated him for it. But Stafnitz was their colonel. On they came; in their blue tunics and silver braid they made a brave show in the suns.h.i.+ne.

The three watched now without word or motion. The sudden sight held them spellbound. Not one of them thought of sending to warn the Prince. If they had, the thought would have been useless, unless it had chimed in with Mist.i.tch's will. Twenty men could have been on them before there was time to saddle a horse. If the expedition were a hostile one, the Castle was caught napping in very truth!

Sophy stood forward a pace in front of her companions; her hand rested on the little revolver which Monseigneur had given her.

On came the company; the foremost file reached within twenty yards of the causeway. There they halted. Half of them dismounted, each man as he did so intrusting his horse to his next fellow. Half of the fifty thus left mounted repeated this operation, leaving the remaining twenty-five in charge of all the horses. The seventy-five took position, four deep, on the road. They separated, lining either side.

The figure of their commander now appeared. He rode to the foot of the causeway, then dismounted, and gave his horse to the sergeant who attended him. His men followed and drew up in the road, blocking the approach to the Castle. Big Mist.i.tch began to ascend the causeway, a broad smile on his face. It was a great moment for Captain Hercules--the day of revenge for which he had waited in forced patience and discreet un.o.btrusiveness. It was a critical day, also, in view of the instructions he had. To do him justice, he was not afraid.

Sophy saw and knew. This must have been the news that Zerkovitch carried, that he had galloped on to tell to the Prince at Volseni. Some event--some unknown and untoward turn of fortune--had loosed Mist.i.tch on them! That was all she had time to realize before Mist.i.tch saluted her and spoke.

"I have the honor of addressing the Baroness Dobrava?"

"You know me well, I think, Captain Mist.i.tch, and I know you."

"Our journey together will be all the pleasanter for that."

"Your business with me, please?"

"I have it in command from his Majesty to escort you to Slavna--to the Palace and into his presence. The King himself will then acquaint you with his wishes."

"You're a strange messenger to send."

"That's a point to put to my superior officer, Colonel Stafnitz, who sent me, Baroness."

Sophy pointed at his men. "You ride strongly supported!"

"Again the Colonel's orders, Baroness. I confess the precautions seemed to me excessive. I had no doubt you would willingly obey his Majesty's commands. Here, by-the-way, is the written order." He produced the order the King had signed before his death.

Sophy had been thinking. Neither her courage nor her cunning forsook her. She waved the doc.u.ment away. "I can take your word, Captain? You're making no mistake to-day?--I really am Baroness Dobrava--not somebody else with whom you have a feud?" She laughed at him gayly and went on: "Well, I'm ready. I'm dressed for a ride--and I'll ride with you immediately. In two minutes we'll be off." She saw a groom in the road staring at the troopers, and called to him to bring her a horse.

This prompt obedience by no means suited Mist.i.tch's book. It forced him either to show his hand or to ride off with Sophy, leaving the Prince to his devices--and, in a little while, to his revenge.

"I mustn't hurry you. You have some preparations--?"

"None," said Sophy. Her horse was led out into the road.

"You'll at least desire to acquaint his Royal Highness--?"

"Not at all necessary. Baron von Hollbrandt can do that later on."

Mist.i.tch looked puzzled. Sophy smiled; her intuition had been right. The attack on her was a feint, her arrest a blind; the Prince was the real object of the move. She stepped down towards Mist.i.tch.

"I see my horse is ready. We can start at once, Captain," she said.

"I'm instructed to express to the Prince regret that it should be necessary--"

"The regret will be conveyed to him. Come, Captain!"

But Mist.i.tch barred her way.

"His Royal Highness is in the Castle?" he asked. His voice grew angry now; he feared the great stroke had failed; he saw that Sophy played with him. How would he and his escort look riding back to Slavna with nothing to show for their journey save the capture of one unresisting woman--a woman whom they dared not harm while the Prince remained free, and might become all-powerful?

"If he had been, you'd have known it by now, I think," smiled Sophy.

"No, the Prince isn't at the Castle."