The Secret Witness - George Gibbs (best book reader .txt) 📗

another garment from the valise, a dainty drapery of silk edged with fine lace, and held it up temptingly.

"Yeva," she said.

"Yes, Fräulein."

"This, too, is very beautiful, do you not think so?"

Yeva sighed wistfully.

"Yes. It is very beautiful."

"And would you care to have this too?"

"Would I——? Oh, Fräulein! I cannot believe——"

Yeva came forward with arms outstretched, brown fingers curling, but as she was about to touch the garment Marishka swept it away and put it behind her back.

"I will give it to you——"

"Yes——"

"If you will take me out with you by the secret door to the Europa Hotel."

"Fräulein!" The girl stopped aghast and then slowly turned away.

"You would have me disobey the commands of my lord and master?" she said in an awed whisper.

"I am asking only my rights," urged Marishka desperately. "I am an Austrian with many friends. I have believed that I was a guest in this house, welcome to come and to go as I choose. If the Effendi desires to keep me against my will he runs a great risk of offending the government of Austria and my friends."

"As to that I do not know——" said Yeva plaintively.

"It will do you no harm to be my friend."

"I am your friend. But to disobey the command of one's lord and master——"

"It is worse to disobey the laws of Bosnia."

"But what can I do?" asked the girl, helplessly weaving her fingers to and fro.

"You need do nothing but go out to deliver my message. Then you shall appear to lock the door below, but the bolt shall not catch. That is all. When you are gone I shall follow into the street."

"And I shall not see you—and your lover through the dutap?"

"You shall see us there—yonder. I promise you."

"It is a terrible thing that you ask."

"Yeva!" Marishka held the silk garment up before the childish gaze of the girl. "Look, Yeva."

It was enough. With a cry, Yeva seized the garment in both hands and carried it to her lips, kissing it excitedly.

"And if I do what you ask—you will never tell?"

"Never."

Marishka had won. It was with difficulty that she restrained her companion from disrobing again and putting on the new garment, but at last by dint of much persuasion she succeeded in getting Yeva to put on her own garments, her head dress, veil and yashmak, and in a short while they were both attired for the street. With a last look around the room, a short vigil at the dutap for sounds of watchful Zubeydeh, Yeva timorously found the key of the lower door, pushed the hanging aside, and with a last rapturous look at the draperies upon the dressing stand, vanished into the darkness of the door.

Marishka, her heart beating high with hope, quickly packed a few of her belongings into a small package and followed. It was very dark upon the narrow stair, but with a hand upon the wall to steady herself, she slowly descended. Feeling for the steps with her feet, at last she reached the floor below, and stepping cautiously forward came upon a blank wall. She turned to the left and found her egress stopped—to the right—yes, there was a door. She fingered for the latch and found it, opening the door, which let in the daylight. But just as she was about to step out, she started back in sudden consternation. Upon the step, grim and forbidding, dressed in fez, white shirt, and wide breeches, stood a man with folded arms facing her. He made no sign of greeting, nor did he change his posture by so much as a millimeter, but she heard his voice quite distinctly, though he spoke in a low tone.

"You will be pleased to return at once."

"But I——" It was the courage of desperation—short-lived, alas!

"At once," the man repeated, unfolding his arms. "At once—or shall I——"

Marishka waited no more upon the order of her going but went at once, finding her way up the dusty stairs, terrified, again a prey to the most agonizing fears.

Would Yeva find Hugh at the Hotel Europa?

CHAPTER XV THE LIGHTED WINDOWS

The night journey of Mr. Renwick to the Bosnian border with the man in black was one long chapter of accidents and delays. But Herr Linke commanded the situation. He had taken care not to return the Englishman's weapon, and there was nothing for Renwick to do but sit in silence by the side of the melancholy Colossus, and pray for an opportunity which never came, for Linke had a watchful eye and sat in the tonneau of the machine. Toward midnight they reached Vinkovcze, where they had supper, and resumed their leisurely journey with a new supply of petrol, which only seemed to increase the trouble in the carburetor. It was at this time that an uncontrollable drowsiness fell upon Renwick. He struggled against it but at last realized that in spite of himself sleep was slowly overpowering him. As in a haze he saw the huge figure of Linke beside him lean over, smiling, while a deep voice which seemed to come from a distance rumbled calmly,

"You are very sleepy, Herr Renwick?"

Renwick dimly remembered muttering a curse.

"You've drugged—cof——"

Then Renwick slept.

When he awoke it was broad daylight. The car was moving smoothly enough along a good road between two mountains, and at the side of the road a river flowed in the direction from which the machine had come.

Renwick felt light-headed and rather ill, and it was some moments before he became conscious of the figure beside him, while he struggled upright and found his speech.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Near Duboj, Herr Renwick, where we shall presently eat our supper——"

"Supper!"

"Yes. You have slept the clock around——"

"Ah, I remember," and he turned upon the man with a renewed and quite futile anger. "You drugged me, you——"

"Softly, my friend," the big man broke in soothingly. "You can do no good by defaming me."

Renwick shrugged. "You'll pay the score at settling time, nevertheless."

"Perhaps. In the meanwhile I beg you to consider that you are but fifty kilometers from your destination. Since we passed the Save we have proceeded with greater rapidity."

But Renwick had sunk into a sullen silence. The huge creature, whom he had held in such light esteem, had made a fool of him, had reduced him to the impotence of a child. As his mind cleared, the object of the man's actions became more involved. Whatever he was, he had succeeded in preventing Renwick from reaching Sarajevo before the Archduke's party should arrive, but why he should wish to drug a man who was meeting his wishes and giving no trouble was more than Renwick could answer. Still puzzled, he glanced at his watch. It was now five o'clock. The sight of the dial startled him. Had Marishka succeeded in reaching the Duchess or had——? Forgetting his quarrel with Linke in the new interest in portending events, he questioned,

"You have heard from Sarajevo?"

"By wire at Yranduk," said Linke, nodding gravely. "The Archduke Franz and the Duchess of Hohenburg were assassinated this morning in the streets of Sarajevo."

Renwick's knowledge of the plot and the difficulties which surrounded his and Marishka's efforts to prevent its consummation had convinced him that the attempt would at least be made, but Herr Linke's bold statement of the fact shocked him none the less.

"They are dead?"

"Both," said Linke. "They died before reaching the Landes hospital."

"Who——" Renwick paused, aware that names meant nothing.

"A Serbian student, named Prinzep."

The Englishman said nothing more, for he was again thinking of Marishka. She had failed! Had she arrived too late or had her visit to Sarajevo been prevented? And if so where was she now? There was nothing for it but to go on to the Europa Hotel and inquire for the note that she would leave there. In a somewhat desperate mood, he followed Herr Linke into the small hotel at Duboj, for he knew that he could not go on without food, having eaten nothing since the day before. As he hesitated, the goulash upon the dish before him, Linke smiled.

"You need have no further fear, Herr Renwick," he said calmly. "We are now friends, engaged upon precisely the same service."

"Indeed! And that——?"

"To find the Countess Stranhni at the earliest possible moment."

"And after that?"

"To restore her to her friends."

"You know where she is?"

"No. But I can find her."

It entered Renwick's head at the moment to tell the fellow of the note in his pocket, but the events of the night had made him careful.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

But the man evaded.

"I beg that you will eat, Herr Renwick," he said coolly. "We have no time to spare."

And so at last, when Herr Linke ponderously helped himself and the Hungarian chauffeur from the dish, Renwick followed his lead and ate.

In less than half an hour they were again upon their way, reaching the hills above the Bosnian capital just before nightfall. Here, for some reason, the machine again halted with a loud explosion of back-fire and a prodigious amount of smoke. The chauffeur got out, looked into the hood and straightened, gesticulating wildly. Herr Linke followed, and a conversation ensued, the import of which was lost upon the Englishman. But when it was finished, Linke turned to Renwick and explained that the machinery was injured beyond repair and that the car could go no further. Two Bosnian policemen who had appeared in the road before them, now rode up and made inquiries. Renwick shrugged and was about to walk away with the intention of finishing his journey afoot, when the chauffeur came forward and caught him by the arm, shouting something in an excited and angry voice, appealing to the men on horseback and pointing alternately at the Englishman and at the injured machine. The Bosnians got down and listened while one of them, who seemed to understand, addressed Renwick in German.

"This man says that you engaged to pay for any breakages to the machine, and that you have not paid him all that you owe."

"He lies. I paid him at Ujvidek. Herr Linke here will bear me witness——" As he turned to address his traveling companion, he paused in amazement, for without a word, or a sound, Herr Linke had suddenly vanished into space.

But the Hungarian was screaming again, and what he said must have impressed the policeman who had spoken to him, for he turned to Renwick, scratching his head dubiously, and suggested that the matter be further discussed before a magistrate in the city below. Renwick agreed, gave the policeman his card with the word that he would find him at the Europa Hotel and leaving his suitcase in the car as security for his appearance when summoned went hurriedly down the hills toward the city. The colloquy had occupied some moments, but when Renwick came to a straight reach of road which led toward the tobacco factory buildings he was surprised to find that Herr Linke was nowhere in sight. The man was an enigma, a curious mixture of desperado and buffoon, but his sudden disappearance without a word of thanks, apology or explanation, gave Renwick something to puzzle over as he made his way to the bridge. Its possible significance escaped him until he had reached the river, when, a thought suddenly occurring to him, he put his hand into the breast pocket of his coat, feeling for the note from Marishka. It was gone! He hunted, feverishly, one pocket after another, and was on the point of going back for a search of the machine when the truth suddenly dawned. Herr Linke had taken it from him, last night when he slept—had drugged him that he might get it without commotion! In an illuminating flash he remembered the sharp look in the man's eyes yesterday morning in the train from Budapest when Renwick had taken the note from his pocket. Linke! He hurried his footsteps, bewailing his own simplicity and wondering what this new phase of Herr Linke's activities might signify.