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

had not made

his appearance, inquiry was made at his door. He did not answer, so

presently the landlord forced the door, and found the room empty.

His luggage was seemingly intact, only the clothes which he had worn

were gone. A strange thing was that, though the bed had been slept

in and his clothes were gone, his night-clothes were not to be found,

from which it was argued by the local authorities, when they came to

make inquiry, that he had gone or been taken from the room in his

night-gear, and that his clothes had been taken with him. There was

evidently some grim suspicion on the part of the authorities, for

they had commanded absolute silence on all in the house. When they

came to make inquiry as to the other guests, it was found that one

and all had gone in the course of the morning, after paying their

bills. None of them had any heavy luggage, and there was nothing

remaining by which they might be traced or which would afford any

clue to their identity. The authorities, having sent a confidential

report to the seat of government, continued their inquiries, and even

now all available hands were at work on the investigation. When I

had signalled to Vissarion, before my arrival there, word had been

sent through the priesthood to enlist in the investigation the

services of all good men, so that every foot of ground in that

section of the Blue Mountains was being investigated. The port-master was assured by his watchmen that no vessel, large or small,

had heft the harbour during the night. The inference, therefore, was

that the Voivode’s captors had made inland with him—if, indeed, they

were not already secreted in or near the town.

 

Whilst we were receiving the various reports, a hurried message came

that it was now believed that the whole party were in the Silent

Tower. This was a well-chosen place for such an enterprise. It was

a massive tower of immense strength, built as a memorial—and also as

a “keep”—after one of the massacres of the invading Turks.

 

It stood on the summit of a rocky knoll some ten miles inland from

the Port of Ilsin. It was a place shunned as a rule, and the country

all around it was so arid and desolate that there were no residents

near it. As it was kept for state use, and might be serviceable in

time of war, it was closed with massive iron doors, which were kept

locked except upon certain occasions. The keys were at the seat of

government at Plazac. If, therefore, it had been possible to the

Turkish marauders to gain entrance and exit, it might be a difficult

as well as a dangerous task to try to cut the Voivode out. His

presence with them was a dangerous menace to any force attacking

them, for they would hold his life as a threat.

 

I consulted with the Vladika at once as to what was best to be done.

And we decided that, though we should put a cordon of guards around

it at a safe distance to prevent them receiving warning, we should at

present make no attack.

 

We made further inquiry as to whether there had been any vessel seen

in the neighbourhood during the past few days, and were informed that

once or twice a warship had been seen on the near side of the

southern horizon. This was evidently the ship which Rooke had seen

on his rush down the coast after the abduction of the Voivodin, and

which he had identified as a Turkish vessel. The glimpses of her

which had been had were all in full daylight—there was no proof that

she had not stolen up during the night-time without lights. But the

Vladika and I were satisfied that the Turkish vessel was watching—

was in league with both parties of marauders—and was intended to

take off any of the strangers, or their prey, who might reach Ilsin

undetected. It was evidently with this view that the kidnappers of

Teuta had, in the first instance, made with all speed for the south.

It was only when disappointed there that they headed up north,

seeking in desperation for some chance of crossing the border. That

ring of steel had so far well served its purpose.

 

I sent for Rooke, and put the matter before him. He had thought it

out for himself to the same end as we had. His deduction was:

 

“Let us keep the cordon, and watch for any signal from the Silent

Tower. The Turks will tire before we shall. I undertake to watch

the Turkish warship. During the night I shall run down south,

without lights, and have a look at her, even if I have to wait till

the grey of the dawn to do so. She may see us; but if she does I

shall crawl away at such pace that she shall not get any idea of our

speed. She will certainly come nearer before a day is over, for be

sure the bureau of spies is kept advised, and they know that when the

country is awake each day increases the hazard of them and their

plans being discovered. From their caution I gather that they do not

court discovery; and from that that they do not wish for an open

declaration of war. If this be so, why should we not come out to

them and force an issue if need be?”

 

When Teuta and I got a chance to be alone, we discussed the situation

in every phase. The poor girl was in a dreadful state of anxiety

regarding her father’s safety. At first she was hardly able to

speak, or even to think, coherently. Her utterance was choked, and

her reasoning palsied with indignation. But presently the fighting

blood of her race restored her faculties, and then her woman’s quick

wit was worth the reasoning of a camp full of men. Seeing that she

was all on fire with the subject, I sat still and waited, taking care

not to interrupt her. For quite a long time she sat still, whilst

the coming night thickened. When she spoke, the whole plan of

action, based on subtle thinking, had mapped itself out in her mind:

 

“We must act quickly. Every hour increases the risk to my father.”

Here her voice broke for an instant; but she recovered herself and

went on:

 

“If you go to the ship, I must not go with you. It would not do for

me to be seen. The Captain doubtless knows of both attempts: that

to carry me off as well as that against my father. As yet he is in

ignorance of what has happened. You and your party of brave, loyal

men did their work so well that no news could go forth. So long,

therefore, as the naval Captain is ignorant, he must delay till the

last. But if he saw me he would know that THAT branch of the venture

had miscarried. He would gather from our being here that we had news

of my father’s capture, and as he would know that the marauders would

fail unless they were relieved by force, he would order the captive

to be slain.”

 

“Yes, dear, to-morrow you had, perhaps, better see the Captain, but

to-night we must try to rescue my father. Here I think I see a way.

You have your aeroplane. Please take me with you into the Silent

Tower.”

 

“Not for a world of chrysolite!” said I, horrified. She took my hand

and held it tight whilst she went on:

 

“Dear, I know, I know! Be satisfied. But it is the only way. You

can, I know, get there, and in the dark. But if you were to go in

it, it would give warning to the enemies, and besides, my father

would not understand. Remember, he does not know you; he has never

seen you, and does not, I suppose, even know as yet of your

existence. But he would know me at once, and in any dress. You can

manage to lower me into the Tower by a rope from the aeroplane. The

Turks as yet do not know of our pursuit, and doubtless rely, at all

events in part, on the strength and security of the Tower. Therefore

their guard will be less active than it would at first or later on.

I shall post father in all details, and we shall be ready quickly.

Now, dear, let us think out the scheme together. Let your man’s wit

and experience help my ignorance, and we shall save my father!”

 

How could I have resisted such pleading—even had it not seemed wise?

But wise it was; and I, who knew what the aeroplane could do under my

own guidance, saw at once the practicalities of the scheme. Of

course there was a dreadful risk in case anything should go wrong.

But we are at present living in a world of risks—and her father’s

life was at stake. So I took my dear wife in my arms, and told her

that my mind was hers for this, as my soul and body already were.

And I cheered her by saying that I thought it might be done.

 

I sent for Rooke, and told him of the new adventure, and he quite

agreed with me in the wisdom of it. I then told him that he would

have to go and interview the Captain of the Turkish warship in the

morning, if I did not turn up. “I am going to see the Vladika,” I

said. “He will lead our own troops in the attack on the Silent

Tower. But it will rest with you to deal with the warship. Ask the

Captain to whom or what nation the ship belongs. He is sure to

refuse to tell. In such case mention to him that if he flies no

nation’s flag, his vessel is a pirate ship, and that you, who are in

command of the navy of the Blue Mountains, will deal with him as a

pirate is dealt with—no quarter, no mercy. He will temporize, and

perhaps try a bluff; but when things get serious with him he will

land a force, or try to, and may even prepare to shell the town. He

will threaten to, at any rate. In such case deal with him as you

think best, or as near to it as you can.” He answered:

 

“I shall carry out your wishes with my life. It is a righteous task.

Not that anything of that sort would ever stand in my way. If he

attacks our nation, either as a Turk or a pirate, I shall wipe him

out. We shall see what our own little packet can do. Moreover, any

of the marauders who have entered the Blue Mountains, from sea or

otherwise, shall never get out by sea! I take it that we of my

contingent shall cover the attacking party. It will be a sorry time

for us all if that happens without our seeing you and the Voivodin;

for in such case we shall understand the worst!” Iron as he was, the

man trembled.

 

“That is so, Rooke,” I said. “We are taking a desperate chance, we

know. But the case is desperate! But we all have our duty to do,

whatever happens. Ours and yours is stern; but when we have done it,

the result will be that life will be easier for others—for those

that are left.”

 

Before he left, I asked him to send up to me three suits of the

Masterman bullet-proof clothes of which we had a supply on the yacht.

 

“Two are for the Voivodin and myself,” I said; “the third