TALKING-TALBOT-Chapter-07

When morning came he saw his way no clearer than before, but at least it was so far simplified that for the moment there was nothing else for him to do but go to the prisoners’ camp.

He had tried the night before to obtain a horse so that he might ride over, but all the good horses had been requisitioned for the army, and all the others were in constant use on the farms.

However, three miles made but a short walk, and he set out as soon as it was advisable. His thoughts were now. as they had been since last evening, all of the Princess Sonia.

,He had tried to bring his mind to bear on the case of Donald, but it had not been a success. ‘T find him or I don’t find him at the camp,” he said to himself. “I can’t do a thing about him till I know where he is. But that poor child ! They never would kill her, of course.”

But he wasn’t so sure of that as he would have liked to be. and so he forgot Donald for the thousandth time, and let his thoughts dwell on the perils, the misfortunes, and the appealing charm of Sonia.

When he reached the camp he found his affairs were already in an amazingly forward condition.

He was taken to the headquarters outside the camp, and there his credentials were carefully examined by a young officer.

“You are the Herr Talbot described here?” demand the lieutenant, looking up from the passport that lay in front of him, and smiling agreeably.

“Yes.”

“And you seek a prisoner, Donald Brookfield, according to this note from

his highness. I suppose you know him?”

“N*ot very well. It is seven or eight years since I have seen him, but I think I would know him. He might know me better than 1 do him.”

The lieutenant rang a bell. “Bring in here that convalescent prisoner who is in the other room. I hope we have found your friend,” he added to Talbot as the soldier went out.

Talbot sprang to his feet, suprised and delighted. If only the affair were moving correctly as well as smoothly! ”You don’t mean,” he exclaimed, “that you have taken the trouble to hunt him out ?”

“When his highness was here yesterday he gave orders to that effect. You have a good friend there, sir.”

“His highness! The governor of Budapest?” cried Talbot. “He was here yesterday?”

“Yes, he came down in his automobile.”

“Oh I” Talbot was surprised, though grateful. But why should his highness take so much trouble for him? He might have asked some impertinent questions in his amazement if at that moment the door had not opened to admit a gaunt shadow of a man leaning on the soldier’s arm.

Talbot studied the sallow skeleton, trying to see in him the ruddy-faced, bright-eyed boy he had known. The convalescent stared at him for a few moments, then broke out, almost sobbing in his joy: “Whv. vou are Ches Talbot !”

“Are you Don Brookfield?” cried Talbot in a shocked tone, but leaping to his feet and going to him.

“What’s left of me. My God! How good it is to see you! How’s mother? Crying her dear old eyes out?”

He tried to be gay and casual, but he broke down and clung to Talbot, tears running down his thin cheeks.

“I come from your mother, Don.Sit here f” Talbot put him in his chair. “Been sick?”

“Excuse these tears,” said Don, smiling wanly; “but between joy and weakness I’m about all in. But what does it mean?” he demanded. “Am I to be exchanged?” He looked from Talbot to the officer.

The latter smiled pleasantly. “That’s it,” he said in good English. “There has been an exchange of prisoners, and his highness has ordered that you are to be included.”

“Say!” murmured Don faintly. “That’s good to hear.'”

“How can I thank his highness?” cried Talbot warmly. “He is a very noble gentleman. He gave me no hint of such generosity.”

“His highness loves Americans,” the officer said, smiling. “Now let me explain : The prisoners will go under escort to the Swiss frontier, where they will be exchanged. This young man will be set free there if he will give his promise not to bear arms against the German allies during this war.”

“With all my heart,” agreed Don.

“A paper will be given you to sign then.”

“When do they go?” demanded Talbot, his thoughts on the princess once more.

“As early as possible this afternoon.”

“But my friend is too ill.”

“He will be conveyed to the train in an automobile, and on the train will have a comfortable bed. Oh, his highness doesn’t do things by halves. Your friend will come to no harm on the way.”

“But I must go back to the village,” protested Talbot ; “all my clothes are there.”

“You will have all the time you want to overtake your friend; the prisoners won’t be traveling on the de luxe express,” laughed the officer. “Would you like to help him get ready?”

“I may go into the camp, then?”

“It will not be necessary. Your friend’s effects — not very bulky, 1 imagine — have been brought outside. You are both free to walk about or sit anywhere you please. Only he must be ready by one o’clock.”

“I shall be ready,”^ said Don, with a fervor that made the officer smile.

Talbot was kept busy answering Don’s eager questions and doing the many little things that were possible for his comfort on the journey. Toward the last he sat down with Don in a sheltered spot.

“Do you think you can stand the journey?” he asked.

“It’ll do me good. If you knew what the camp is you wouldn’t ask. They were fair and kind, but a detention camp is no place for a sick man. Why, I’m better already.”

“It’s evident I can’t be with you on the journey, Don.”

“Of course not. But don’t worry about me ; I don’t need anybody to look after me.”

“I expect to be at the Swiss frontier, when you get there, but if I shouldn’t be don’t wait for me, but go straight on to Paris.”

“Yes, yes.”

“You’re sure you don’t want more money?”

“You gave me twice as much as I need.”

Talbot remained there, and saw Donald start for the train, comfortably ensconced in the back seat of an automobile. He had a half-shamed sense of not completely fulfilling his mission in not trying” harder to go with Don, and yet he knew that nothing could drag him from the place until he had done what he could to save the Princess Sonia.

He waved his hat as Don was carried away, and then, after thanking the young officer, and sending through him a message to the embassy in Vienna to be forwarded by wireless orotherwise to Mrs. Brookiield, he turned his face toward the little village again, his heart bounding with the thought that now there was nothing to interfere willi his ^letemiination to rescue the helpless girl at the castle.

The audacity of his purpose did not* occur to him. He knew that if he failed he was quite likely to lose his life, luil that he accepted as a mere incident. He had risked his life too many times for what relatively were trifles to let that weigh with him now.

It was impossible for him to make any very definite plans beyond getting the princess out of her prison, since he knew nothing of the country or the people ; but in a general way he meant to compel the people of her own party to help her escape. That, he considered, was the least they should do.

When he set out that afternoon, he had his belt of ^cartridges, besides his money belt, on. Also he had found a coil of strong, pliable rope which he had converted into a makeshift lasso with the object of using it to obtain an entrance into the castle inclosure. This he concealed in one of the side pockets of his outer coat.

W hen he reached the part of the wall where the iron gate had been the day before, he found that it had been covered by a heavy, iron-strapped oak door, similar to the other two he had noticed.

He was chagrined and alarmed. Did it mean that his visit had been discovered? Or was it only done in the natural course of preventing any outlook from the grounds?

He was afraid to call out or make any noise to call Sonia’s attention, so he went along the wall looking for a place to. throw the loop of his lasso over. He had noticed several projecting stones the previous day.

He found one a few rods farther on, and had no difficulty in tossing his loop so that it fell over it. He tightened it

and then went up the wall very easily, hand over hand.

When he was far enough up to enable him to peer over, he did so with the utmost caution. No one was in sight, not even Sonia. His heart sank at that ; but, as he was beyond the limit of the ruined garden, he hoped it was not significant of her absence.

He carefully climbed up and sat astride the wall. He detached the loop f rom the stone, doubled the rope, caught the doubled end over the stone, and slid down, pulling the rope after him.

He had so far seen no one, nor heard any suspicious sound. He hugged the wall so that the shrubs growing at its neglected base would hide him, and, so concealed, crept along to the garden.

A sort of fence that once had marked the limits of the garden had been replaced by a natural hedge of currant bushes and other wilder growths. This he pushed his way through.

The cottage stood about fifty feet from him. It gave no sign of life, although Talbot watched it for several minutes. He crept toward the back of it, and then, after listening again, moved cautiously along one side toward the front.

Peering around the corner, he saw the princess standing listlessly by one of the pillars of the little porch. She looked unutterably lonely and hopeless. He wondered if it was because she believed that the new door had shut him out from assisting her.

He stepped into view, but she did not see him until he spoke her name; then she turned with a start and a cry of incredulity and joy.

“You! You came, after all! But how ?”

“Are you alone, princess?” “Oh, yes. And I have been so unhappy.”

“Did you think the new door would keep me from seeing you?” he asked, approaching her.
“I was so sure of it.” She looked at him with her heautiful gray eyes sweeping him from head to feet, a flush rising to her round cheek. “I had given up hope.”

“1 will never desert you,” he said.

“You are very brave, sir. I don’t know what you can do, but you surely give me courage. How did you get in ?”

lie told her. She listened like a child who is awed by a tale of great daring. “You see,” he finished, “this is not a difficult place to get into or out of.”

She smiled rather pitifully. “Not for a strong, brave man like you,” she said; “but I am such a coward ; such a poor, little coward I”

“But you are going to trust me, you know, princess, and I am going to get you out of here. I came to tell you about it. Are we quite safe here, do you think ?”

“Let us go over by those trees,” she answered; “the shrubs will hide you if any one should come. But it is so early that is not likely. I thought of you all night, and all day to-day; then when the men came and put that door in place, I said to myself that I should never see you again. And now you have come, anyhow.”

“I told you I would be here. I came to tell you that to-night I am coming to take you away to safety,”

“To-night? Oh!” She clasped her hands together and looked into his face. “I wonder if you can do it. I believe you can. I never knew any one who made me feel so sure he could do what he said.”

Talbot felt himself grow hot and red. ‘it is kind of you to feel that way,” he said.

“You make me feel so. You say things so quietly, like a very, very strong person. I don’t know why you should he so good to me. Do you know your life will be in danger? You mustn’t think it won’t be. Have you thought about that?”

He smiled. “I suppose I have thought about it, but it makes no difference. Besides, I think we shall get

away.”

She put her hand confidingly on his arm. “I told you you made me brave. Do you know that you make me think of one of the old knights? They used to go around the world seeking adventures and helping distressed damsels.” She laughed softly and looked up at him in a way that made his blood quicken. “You are my knight, aren’t you? All the way from America. I’ve always heard that American men are so splendid. Please tell me what I’m to do.”

His eyes were glowing softly; a light in them that no woman had ever seen there before. “You have only to be ready,” he said, in a low tone. “I expect to be here about ten o’clock. That will give us all night to travel in. I’m afraid you will have to walk at first; later we may get a horse.”

“Oh. I can walk. I’m strong in that way. I’m much stronger than I look. And I’ll be brave with you ; I know I shall. Yesterday I felt braver after you had gone, and now I’m wonderfully brave. I think it’s having such a wonderful man as you for a real friend. Do you know,” she added, with a halfroguish smile, “that I am letting you rescue me without knowing your name?”

“Chester Talbot.”

“You are noble?”

“There are no noblemen in America,” he answered, smiling.

“Ah, yes, I have heard that. Well” — she laughed softly — “I am almost a queen, so I make you Sir Chester Talbot. That is the way to do with one’s knight, isn’t it? And vou are my knight?”

“Vowed to your service, most gracious queen.”

“Oh !” she cried, turning pale and holding by his arm. “It frightens me to hear you say that. That is what I have been called lately.” She shuddered. “I wonder why I forgot? Oh, 1 hope you will be able to take me away.”

She was very appealing and very charming in her clinging terror. Talbot covered the little hands that lay on his arm with his Own.

“I will surely take you away.” he said. “If you could tell me the name of any one we could go to to help us out of the country. Is there no one at all?”

“Not nearer than Budapest,” she answered dolefully ; “and even there I could not be sure. You don’t know any one?”

“1 might get help from the military governor. He has been very kind to me.

“What military governor?” she demanded quickly.

“Of Budapest.”

“Prince Szchymsl?”

“1 think that’s his name. He’s the military governor of Budapest.”

“Oh I” she gasped, drawing away from him. “And it was through him that you came to me?”

“.’o. I haven’t seen him since I left Budapest.”

•He’s your friend?”

“No. but he has been very kind to me. He helped me get my friend free from the prison camp; What is the matter? Why do you look at me like that: Is he unfriendly to you?”

“You don’t know? Oh. you don’t know!” she wailed. “Tell me you don’t know.”

“What? Don’t know what? I don’t understand.”

She crept nearer again, studying his fare anxiously. “If you are deceiving me,” she said, “I shall never trust another human being.”

“I am not deceiving you. little Sonia. Tell me what you fear. I don’t understand at all.”

“This castle belongs to Prince Szchymsl.” she breathed.

She seemed to droop as she spoke, as if the mere statement of it made her weak.

Talbot put his arm about her to support her. “This place belongs to him?” he said. “To the military governor of Budapest ?”

“Yes; I was brought here by his orders. He is the Countess Elsa’> cousin and main support.”

Talbot tightened his hold on the supple form of the frightened girl. He felt that he was again being tangled up in the old, silly plotting; only now he realized the danger that lurked in it.

‘It does not matter,” he said; “I shall take you away from here to-night, and we shall manage somehow. You are sure there is no one to whom yon could go to be hidden?”

“You don’t understand,” she said simply. “Nobody cares for me, Sonia Kotorska, but only for the princess who has certain royal blood in her veins. They thought the nobles of Hungary would gather about me because of that blood. It was a mistake. Then they tried to marry me to the duke. The Countess Elsa, who is very terrible, they say, was before them, and besides had much money and many adherents. Then I was a burden to them, and yet I was a menace to the other party that was for the duke — the Countess Elsa’s party. So I was stolen away one night, and brought here. The nobles who dragged rne away from my home in Bosnia have no longer any use for me, and yet I am dangerous to the other party, they say. And I — I only ask to go back to my little castle on the Bosna. Now do you understand?”

“Yes, I understand, although it is so incredible. Well, little Sonia” — and with his strong arm still about her waist he looked down into her gray eyes — “I will have to save you alone. At least you can be no worse off than you are. You will trust me ?”

“I do trust you.” She shyly disengaged herself from his detaining arm and smiled at him. “I will do what you tell me to ; 1 will go where you say ; I can be almost brave for you.”

“Then, somehow, we shall leave tonight. Some one sleeps at the cottage to guard you?”

“Two men; soldiers.”

“No more. That is good. You know how to ride?”

“Better than I know how to do anything else,” she answered, smiling.

“Well, I am afraid there are no horses to be had, but I’ll try to find two. If we could get to Bosnia, would you be safe?”

“Oh, yes. My own people love me, and, although they could not protect me, they would hide me or smuggle me into Serbia.”

“Ssh !” he murmured. “I hear footsteps.”

She listened, and her face grew white. “There are many men. Hear them? Oh, my Sir Chester,” she moaned, “I am afraid.”

She sprang close to him and nestled against him when he put his arm protectingly around her. He peered through the branches of the shrubs, and presently saw a small squad of uniformed men, headed by a noncommissioned officer, marching down a broad path toward the little garden. They were guided by a thickset man in civilian garb.

Talbot’s hand was on his revolver, but at sight of the rifles carried by the men he dropped it back. Quick as he was, he couldn’t hope to prevail over all those armed men. It was a time for finesse, not for force.

“Sonia,” he said quickly and with passionate earnestness, “now is the time to show that you trust me and that you can be brave.”

“I — I will try very hard,” she panted,

studying his fiercely determined “Tell me.”

“I think those men have come to you to the castle. I could die here you, but I could not save you. must go with them. I will follow and rescue you. Will you still i me?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her face v and her whole body trembling. ” — you shall see what — what a little • ard can — can do.”

“Go out, then, dear. Let them you. But remember: I shall abbe watching over you. Go !” He lo her, took her small hand and carri to his lips.