By Right of Sword

by Arthur W. Marchmont

THE RESCUE.

I felt as though the heat of hell were burning in my veins as I lay on the floor with the remembrance of Devinsky's blow and his words turning my blood to fire. If ever I were free again, I swore to myself over and over again, I would have his life for that blow. My anguish and rage that he should have Olga in his power were infinite tortures, and all the less endurable because of my abject helplessness.

The one chance I had of deliverance was that someone, perhaps Essaieff, should hear of the matter and follow me. But the hope was so feeble as to be little more than tantalising; fool-like, I had rushed off without leaving any intimation of what had happened. If he did follow me, indeed, it would be only after a long interval, and not until Devinsky would have had time either to get far away or to carry out his purpose.

Then I began speculating as to what he meant to do. He would scarcely dare to try and make Olga his wife against her will and consent; though he was evidently villain enough to go to great lengths. In this way my thoughts ran over the ground trying to ferret out a means of escape as well as seeking a key to the man's motives; and thus another hour or two slipped away without my hearing a sound or getting a sign of anyone.

The strain of suspense was enough to turn one's brain.

But a wholly unexpected and most welcome interruption came to break in upon my reverie. Outside I heard the tramp of horses being ridden at a sharp trot into the courtyard of the house, with a jingling of arms and accoutrements that told me the riders were either soldiers or mounted police. A sharp word of command brought them to the halt; and as soon as that happened, I let out such a lusty yell for help as made the walls ring again and again. Then my door was opened and two men rushed in and ordered me to be silent, under pain of instant death, and clapped revolvers to my head. But I knew they dared not fire with such visitors at the door and I continued to yell with all my lung power until, throwing down their weapons, they first clapped their hands on my mouth and then thrust a gag into my jaws.

Some five minutes passed and the tension of my impatience was unendurable. Meanwhile the two men held me and cut the bonds from my legs and got ready to slip the gyves from my wrists.

Presently the tramp of feet approached the door of my room and when it was opened an officer of the mounted police entered with a file of men at his heels. Devinsky was shewing the way and speaking as they all came in.

"As I have told you, he made an attack on the house in the night; my men secured him. When I saw him, I recognised him, of course, and should have released him, but he tried to murder me—angry, I presume, at having been discovered and recognised at such work. I then had him bound again and was going to send to-day into the city for the police, when you came. If you'll take him away, that's all I want."

The man in command of the police listened to this in silence and with a face that shewed no more expression than a stone gargoyle.

"Release him," he said to his men, and in another moment I was at liberty. As soon as I was free, I began to edge my way inch by inch toward where Devinsky stood. I would have him down, police or no police, thought I, even if it were my last act before entering a gaol. I guessed of course that some Nihilist blabber had told the facts, and that I was bound for Siberia, or worse.

"Lieutenant Petrovitch, you are to accompany me, if you please," said the leader; and a sign to his men set two of them at each side of me.

"I have first one word to say to that—gentleman," I said, pointing to Devinsky.

"Excuse me. My instructions are peremptory. I must ask you to go with me at once—without a minute's delay."

I saw Devinsky's face brighten at the thought of thus getting rid of me: and my fingers itched and tingled to be at his throat.

"Am I arrested?" I asked. "For what?"

"I can say nothing, Lieutenant," replied the man.

"Do you know why I'm here?"

"If you please, we must go, and at once," was the stolid reply.

I saw Devinsky grin again at this.

"This man has carried off my sister," I cried. "She is in his power now, and it was when I came to find her that he tricked me and then had me bound as you see. Send your men to find her. She must return with us."

"I have no instructions to that effect," replied the man curtly.

"Damn your instructions," I burst out hotly. "Are you a man—to leave a young girl in this plight?" My reply stirred only anger.

"I cannot do what I am not ordered to do," said the officer again curtly.

"Then I won't go without her. Go back and—or better, send one of your men for permission to do this and stay here and keep guard over me and my sister at the same time."

"It is impossible. My instructions are peremptory and nothing will let me swerve from them."

I began to lose all self-command, and only by the most strenuous efforts did I prevent myself from heaping reproaches upon him for his cold-blooded officialism.

"Will you leave a couple of men here then, to protect her?"

"I can say no more, Lieutenant, and do no more than I have said. And now, we must go."

It maddened me beyond all telling to think that I was to be carried away in this ruthless, heartless, implacable fashion at the very moment when the rescue of the girl I loved more than my life was but a matter of walking into another room and bringing her out. I was staggered by the blow.

"Do you know that I would ten thousand times rather that you had left me here bound and helpless as I was than take me away in this fashion. I must see my sister. I must save her—why man, are you lost to every sense of feeling? Take her away first—make her safe; and then I swear to Heaven, you or this man can do with me what you please."

The stolid stony impassiveness of the man's face crushed every hope out of me. I could have struck him in my baffled rage.

"I have twenty men in the troop here, Lieutenant My instructions are to take you at once to Moscow. I prefer to use no force; but I have it here, if necessary."

I wrung my hands in despair; and then with a wild dash I rushed to the door to try and find Olga for myself. It was useless. They closed on me in an instant, and I was helpless. Then they marched me out to the horses, venting as I went bitter reproaches and unavailing protests, mingled with loud curses, laments, and revilings.

"Will you give me your parole to go quietly, Lieutenant?" asked the leader.

"On one condition. That we ride at full speed all the way."

"I can make no condition," replied this block of official stolidity; "but my instructions are to act with all haste. One question—have you been illtreated here?"

"Only as I told you."

Then he went back into the house for a moment, saying he would speak to Devinsky about it. I saw the latter change colour when he received the police report and he made a gesture of seeming repudiation, lifting his hands and shrugging his shoulders. After that he threw me a malicious look from his angry evil face that almost made me clamber down from the saddle to try and have a reckoning with him there and then.

"When I'm out of this, I'll hunt you out," I cried, between my teeth.

"When!" he answered: and the sneer in which he shewed his teeth as he uttered the word, was in my eyes for half that long, wild ride.

The police leader kept his word; and we rode at a hard gallop nearly all the way, the whole country side turning out as we thundered by.

The man would not say a word to me on the journey, except that he had been ordered to hold no communication at all with me; and thus I did not know where they were taking me, or whether I was arrested or rescued, until we drew rein at the Police head-quarters in Moscow and I was ushered straight into the presence of Prince Bilbassoff, all dirty, dishevelled, bruised, and travel-stained as I was.

He rose and met me, holding out his hand.

"My dear Lieutenant, you are really giving me an unconscionable amount of trouble. As much, indeed, as if you were already a member of my family."

"What does all this mean?" I asked. "Am I arrested?"

"What an impatient fellow you are! It will all come in time," he returned, with an indescribable blending of good nature and suggestive threat. "Is this all the thanks one gets for rescuing you from what, judging by your appearance, has been a very ugly mess. This harum-scarum business will really have to stop—when you marry." He seemed almost to laugh behind his grizzled moustache in the pause that emphasised the last three words.

"Will you tell me the real meaning of this? I have already asked you."

"Sit down;" and he sat down himself, and lounged back easily in his chair. "By the way, have you lunched?"

"For God's sake man, don't trifle in this way. If you know the facts, as I suppose you do, you'll know I'm in no mood for bantering courtesy. Why am I torn away by your men by force at the very moment when my sister is in danger at the hands of the brute who has carried her off. I suppose you know all this. What does it mean, I repeat."

"You can understand, perhaps, Lieutenant, that as it is two days since my sister referred you to me, and you had left Moscow hastily, she was growing a little anxious. You know something of women in love and their insistent moods."

"To hell with all these plots and intrigues," I cried, furiously. "If you mean that that devil Devinsky is to have my sister in his power and I am to sit down coolly and bear it while you talk to me about marriage, you don't know me. I'll think of nothing, talk of nothing, do nothing, till I have either saved her and killed that villain, or am killed myself."

"Do you mean that you will set me at defiance?" cried the Prince, in stern ringing tones, his eyes flashing at me. "That you dare to flout the offers we have made you, and have the hardihood to set the needs of the country below your own little petty personal feelings and wishes? Do you know what that means, sir?"

"I care not what it means," I answered, recklessly. "I tell you this to your face. If my sister be not saved at once, I'll never set eyes on you or your sister again, unless it be that you make me grin at you from behind the bars of some one of your cursed gaols. That is my last word, if it costs me my life."

He rose and looked at me so sternly that I could almost have flinched before him if my stake in the matter had not been so great. I never met such a look of concentrated power before.

"If you dare to repeat that, Lieutenant Petrovitch, I will send you straight to the Mallovitch," he said, with positively deadly intensity of tone, pointing his finger through the window to where the gloomy frowning tower of the great prison was visible.

"I care not if you send me to hell," I cried. "Save my sister, or my hand shall rot at the wrist before I lift it in your service."

We stood staring intently dead into each other's eyes; and he stretched forward a hand to summon those who would carry out his threat.

Then he breathed deeply, smiled, and offered me his hand instead.

"By God, you're the man we want, in all truth. Now, I'll tell you what you ask."

He had only been testing me after all, and my wits were so blunt in my agitation that I had not seen through him.

"Have no fear for your sister," he continued. "She is quite safe. My man gave that Devinsky a message when he was leaving that puts all doubt on that score aside. She is part of our bargain, and the arm of the State is over her. If you accept my offer at once, your sister herself shall decide that man's punishment. My object in all this is twofold—to let you feel something of the substance of power that will be yours when you have consented; and secondly to test a little more thoroughly your staunchness. I am satisfied, Lieutenant. And I hope you are."

"Where is my sister now?" I asked, after a moment's consideration.

"Where you left her, of course. Decide how you wish her to come to Moscow. Shall my men fetch her? Shall that man bring her back himself? Or will you ride out. It is a matter of the merest form—but as yet, of course, you are unaccustomed to your influence and power."

He was the devil at tempting; and though he had told me his motive, and I knew the rank impossibility of doing what he wanted—I could not help a little thrill of pleasure at the consciousness that this power lay within my grasp.

"I will ride out and bring her in myself," I said, with a flush of pleasant anticipation at the thought.

"As you will. This will do everything," he said, as he wrote me an order in the name of the Emperor. I knew its power well enough. "One condition, by the by. You must not fight this Devinsky; nor do anything to provoke a fight."

"I won't promise," I answered.

"Then I give no order. Your life is ours, not yours to play with. That is the essence of the matter."

"I will promise," I said, changing suddenly as I thought of Olga and the delight of seeing her under the circumstances. "My word on it. I do nothing except in self-defence, or in defence of my sister."

"Well, be off with you then," he said, rising and shaking hands, and speaking as lightly as if I were a schoolboy being sent off for a ride; and as though there were not between us a jot or tittle of a plan in which life and death, fortune and marriage were the stakes.

I hurried back to make preparations for riding back at once; and half an hour later I had had my first meal for twenty-four hours and was again in the saddle, pricking at top speed along the northern road, followed by one of the Prince's confidential servants, sent as the former said to me, with especial instructions to look after the welfare of one who was soon to be a member of the family.

There is no need to describe with what different emotions and thoughts I made that journey. It is enough to say that I dashed along at top speed, haunted by half a fear that something might yet go wrong with the plans and that Olga might still be in some danger; while a desire more keen than words can express came upon me to have her once more under my own care.

At the same time the sense of power to which the appeal had been so astutely made was roused, and I was conscious of an unusual glow of pride.

When I reached the house where I had had the ugly experience of the previous night I looked out for any sign of hostility. But there was none. A man came immediately in answer to my summons, and Devinsky was waiting for me in the large hall, which I scanned curiously after my night's experience in it.

The sight of Devinsky roused me, but I put the curb on my temper.

I handed him the order in silence. He read it and sneered.

"It is a good and safe thing to shelter behind Government powers," he said. "Your sister is upstairs. This way." He led and I followed, my heart beating fast.

We passed up the stairs and then turned along a corridor to the right, and after turning again to the right, and entering, as I thought the right wing of the rambling old house, we went up another short and very narrow flight of stairs. Then he opened the door of a room in silence—indeed we had not spoken a word all the time—and stood aside for me to pass.

Olga was sitting at the far end of the room looking out of the window, which was on the side away from the courtyard, with a woman attendant near her; and she did not even turn round when the door opened.

But when I uttered her name and she saw me, she sprang up, speaking mine in reply with such a glad cry, and ran to me with a look of such rare delight on her face that I think she was going to throw herself into my arms and I was certainly going to let her, oblivious of all but the rush of love that moved our hearts simultaneously.

When she was close to me, she checked herself, however, and put her hands in mine, as a sister might. But the glances from her eyes told me all I cared to know at that moment, while her gaze roamed over me as if in bewilderment.

"How is it you are better—and out? Where is your wound? What is that mark on your face? I don't understand. They told me you were lying dangerously wounded and that you wished me to remain here until you could bear to see me."

"There is a good deal you don't understand yet, Olga," I said. "The story of the duel was a lie from start to finish."

"Then you're not wounded? Oh, I'm so glad, Alexis" and, moving her hands up my arm after a timid glance at the woman, she looked her thankfulness and solicitude into my eyes.

The look made me speechless. Had I tried to answer it in words, I must have told her my love.

"You are to come with me, Olga," I said, presently, recovering myself. "The aunt is all impatience to have you back again."

"Why? I explained all to her in my messages."

"Your messages got lost on the way," I answered, and she saw by my tone how things were. She got ready to come with me without another word; and I could feel my heart thumping and lurching against my side as I watched her and caught her turn now and again to look at me and send me a little smile of trust and pleasure.

There was no need for us to speak much; we were beginning to understand each other well enough without words.

We went out of the room together, and I was surprised and glad to see on a chair close by the door the sword which I had dropped the previous night. I took it up, and as I did so Olga cried out in great and sudden fear.

I looked up and saw Devinsky at the narrow head of the short stairway.

"I've complied with the order," he said, his voice vibrating with anger. "And I've given your sister freely into your hands. You are at liberty to pass—alone." He said this to her and then turned to me: "But not you, till you and I have settled our old score."

"As you will," replied I, readily. "Nothing will please me more. But stay," I cried, remembering my promise. "I cannot now. I have passed my word. Stand aside, please, and let us pass."

"Not if you were the Czar himself," he answered, hotly. "And I'm not going to let you shield yourself either behind the Government—you spy!—or behind your sister's petticoats. If she doesn't choose to go when she has the chance, let her stop and see the consequence."

"Olga, you had better go on," I whispered. "This may be an ugly business, and not fit for you to be here."

"Where you are, I stop—come what may!" she answered, firmly.

"I've not come here to fight now," I said to Devinsky. "I'll meet you willingly enough another time, God knows. But now, I've passed my word;" and with that I raised my voice and shouted with all my strength to Prince Bilbassoff's servant, who was below, to come to my assistance.

For answer Devinsky called on a couple of men who until then had been hidden, and with drawn swords and a loud shout the three rushed forward to throw themselves upon me.