The Lady of the Shroud - Bram Stoker (phonics reader txt) 📗

class="calibre2">small cruiser, with turbines up to date, oil-fuelled, and fully armed

with the latest and most perfect weapons and explosives of all kinds.

The fastest boat afloat to-day. Built by Thorneycroft, engined by

Parsons, armoured by Armstrong, armed by Crupp. If she ever comes

into action, it will be bad for her opponent, for she need not fear

to tackle anything less than a Dreadnought.”

 

He also told me that from the same Government, whose nation had just

established an unlooked-for peace, he had also purchased a whole park

of artillery of the very latest patterns, and that for range and

accuracy the guns were held to be supreme. These would follow before

long, and with them their proper ammunition, with a shipload of the

same to follow shortly after.

 

When he had told me all the rest of his news, and handed me the

accounts, we went out to the dock to see the debarkation of the war

material. Knowing that it was arriving, I had sent word in the

afternoon to the mountaineers to tell them to come and remove it.

They had answered the call, and it really seemed to me that the whole

of the land must that night have been in motion.

 

They came as individuals, grouping themselves as they came within the

defences of the Castle; some had gathered at fixed points on the way.

They went secretly and in silence, stealing through the forests like

ghosts, each party when it grouped taking the place of that which had

gone on one of the routes radiating round Vissarion. Their coming

and going was more than ghostly. It was, indeed, the outward

manifestation of an inward spirit—a whole nation dominated by one

common purpose.

 

The men in the steamer were nearly all engineers, mostly British,

well conducted, and to be depended upon. Rooke had picked them

separately, and in the doing had used well his great experience of

both men and adventurous life. These men were to form part of the

armoured yacht’s crew when she should come into the Mediterranean

waters. They and the priests and fighting-men in the Castle worked

well together, and with a zeal that was beyond praise. The heavy

cases seemed almost of their own accord to leave the holds, so fast

came the procession of them along the gangways from deck to dock-wall. It was a part of my design that the arms should be placed in

centres ready for local distribution. In such a country as this,

without railways or even roads, the distribution of war material in

any quantity is a great labour, for it has to be done individually,

or at least from centres.

 

But of this work the great number of mountaineers who were arriving

made little account. As fast as the ship’s company, with the

assistance of the priests and fighting-men, placed the cases on the

quay, the engineers opened them and laid the contents ready for

portage. The mountaineers seemed to come in a continuous stream;

each in turn shouldered his burden and passed out, the captain of his

section giving him as he passed his instruction where to go and in

what route. The method had been already prepared in my office ready

for such a distribution when the arms should arrive, and descriptions

and quantities had been noted by the captains. The whole affair was

treated by all as a matter of the utmost secrecy. Hardly a word was

spoken beyond the necessary directions, and these were given in

whispers. All night long the stream of men went and came, and

towards dawn the bulk of the imported material was lessened by half.

On the following night the remainder was removed, after my own men

had stored in the Castle the rifles and ammunition reserved for its

defence if necessary. It was advisable to keep a reserve supply in

case it should ever be required. The following night Rooke went away

secretly in the chartered vessel. He had to bring back with him the

purchased cannon and heavy ammunition, which had been in the meantime

stored on one of the Greek islands. The second morning, having had

secret word that the steamer was on the way, I had given the signal

for the assembling of the mountaineers.

 

A little after dark the vessel, showing no light, stole into the

creek. The barrier gates were once again closed, and when a

sufficient number of men had arrived to handle the guns, we began to

unload. The actual deportation was easy enough, for the dock had all

necessary appliances quite up to date, including a pair of shears for

gun-lifting which could be raised into position in a very short time.

 

The guns were well furnished with tackle of all sorts, and before

many hours had passed a little procession of them disappeared into

the woods in ghostly silence. A number of men surrounded each, and

they moved as well as if properly supplied with horses.

 

In the meantime, and for a week after the arrival of the guns, the

drilling went on without pause. The gun-drill was wonderful. In the

arduous work necessary for it the great strength and stamina of the

mountaineers showed out wonderfully. They did not seem to know

fatigue any more than they knew fear.

 

For a week this went on, till a perfect discipline and management was

obtained. They did not practise the shooting, for this would have

made secrecy impossible. It was reported all along the Turkish

frontier that the Sultan’s troops were being massed, and though this

was not on a war footing, the movement was more or less dangerous.

The reports of our own spies, although vague as to the purpose and

extent of the movement, were definite as to something being on foot.

And Turkey does not do something without a purpose that bodes ill to

someone. Certainly the sound of cannon, which is a far-reaching

sound, would have given them warning of our preparations, and would

so have sadly minimized their effectiveness.

 

When the cannon had all been disposed of—except, of course, those

destined for defence of the Castle or to be stored there—Rooke went

away with the ship and crew. The ship he was to return to the

owners; the men would be shipped on the war-yacht, of whose crew they

would form a part. The rest of them had been carefully selected by

Rooke himself, and were kept in secrecy at Cattaro, ready for service

the moment required. They were all good men, and quite capable of

whatever work they might be set to. So Rooke told me, and he ought

to know. The experience of his young days as a private made him an

expert in such a job.

 

RUPERT’S JOURNAL—Continued.

June 24, 1907.

 

Last night I got from my Lady a similar message to the last, and

delivered in a similar way. This time, however, our meeting was to

be on the leads of the Keep.

 

I dressed myself very carefully before going on this adventure, lest

by any chance of household concern, any of the servants should see

me; for if this should happen, Aunt Janet would be sure to hear of

it, which would give rise to endless surmises and questionings—a

thing I was far from desiring.

 

I confess that in thinking the matter over during the time I was

making my hurried preparations I was at a loss to understand how any

human body, even though it be of the dead, could go or be conveyed to

such a place without some sort of assistance, or, at least,

collusion, on the part of some of the inmates. At the visit to the

Flagstaff circumstances were different. This spot was actually

outside the Castle, and in order to reach it I myself had to leave

the Castle privately, and from the garden ascend to the ramparts.

But here was no such possibility. The Keep was an imperium in

imperio. It stood within the Castle, though separated from it, and

it had its own defences against intrusion. The roof of it was, so

far as I knew, as little approachable as the magazine.

 

The difficulty did not, however, trouble me beyond a mere passing

thought. In the joy of the coming meeting and the longing rapture at

the mere thought of it, all difficulties disappeared. Love makes its

own faith, and I never doubted that my Lady would be waiting for me

at the place designated. When I had passed through the little arched

passages, and up the doubly-grated stairways contrived in the

massiveness of the walls, I let myself out on the leads. It was well

that as yet the times were sufficiently peaceful not to necessitate

guards or sentries at all such points.

 

There, in a dim corner where the moonlight and the passing clouds

threw deep shadows, I saw her, clothed as ever in her shroud. Why, I

know not. I felt somehow that the situation was even more serious

than ever. But I was steeled to whatever might come. My mind had

been already made up. To carry out my resolve to win the woman I

loved I was ready to face death. But now, after we had for a few

brief moments held each other in our arms, I was willing to accept

death—or more than death. Now, more than before, was she sweet and

dear to me. Whatever qualms there might have been at the beginning

of our love-making, or during the progress of it, did not now exist.

We had exchanged vows and confidences, and acknowledged our loves.

What, then, could there be of distrust, or even doubt, that the

present might not set at naught? But even had there been such doubts

or qualms, they must have disappeared in the ardour of our mutual

embrace. I was by now mad for her, and was content to be so mad.

When she had breath to speak after the strictness of our embrace, she

said:

 

“I have come to warn you to be more than ever careful.” It was, I

confess, a pang to me, who thought only of love, to hear that

anything else should have been the initiative power of her coming,

even though it had been her concern for my own safety. I could not

but notice the bitter note of chagrin in my voice as I answered:

 

“It was for love’s sake that I came.” She, too, evidently felt the

undercurrent of pain, for she said quickly:

 

“Ah, dearest, I, too, came for love’s sake. It is because I love you

that I am so anxious about you. What would the world—ay, or heaven-

-be to me without you?”

 

There was such earnest truth in her tone that the sense and

realization of my own harshness smote me. In the presence of such

love as this even a lover’s selfishness must become abashed. I could

not express myself in words, so simply raised her slim hand in mine

and kissed it. As it lay warm in my own I could not but notice, as

well as its fineness, its strength and the firmness of its clasp.

Its warmth and fervour struck into my heart—and my brain. Thereupon

I poured out to her once more my love for her, she listening all

afire. When passion had had its say, the calmer emotions had

opportunity of expression. When I was satisfied afresh of her

affection, I began to value her care for my safety, and so I went

back to the subject. Her very insistence, based on personal

affection, gave me more solid ground for fear. In the moment of love

transports I had forgotten, or did not think, of what wonderful power

or knowledge she must have to be able to move in such strange ways as