“What shall I tell them?”
“Anything. Speak to them as the mouthpiece of Prince Rogovich. Say there's food in the freight-yards—two train-loads of it—and more arriving; that soon the warehouses of Budapest will be bulging.”
The Captain stepped forward, an heroic figure. Just as he appeared in the oblong of the window—whether it was the sight of his uniform that provoked the storm was not certain—a volley of bullets shattered the glass. He clapped his hand to his forehead. There was a second volley. The room was plunged in darkness. Hindwood darted forward. The pounding on the outer-door grew frantic. In the Palace-yard there was the silence of horror.
Released by the knife of flying lead, the body of the Prince had doubled forward, as though to peer down at the man who had betrayed him. The Captain was beyond all help.
As Hindwood leapt back in search of Santa, the door went down with a crash. In a second the darkness was filled to overflowing—halberdiers, Palace servants, wild-eyed officials. In the confusion he caught her hand and escaped unnoticed through the pressing throng. As they hurried through salons hung with priceless treasures, looting had started. The first of the mob were ruthlessly at work. At the foot of the marble staircase he glanced at his watch. “It's exactly two o'clock,” he murmured.
V
They had passed beneath the gateway where sentries should have challenged. Their posts were deserted. As they struck the road, descending beneath the ramparts, Santa questioned, “Why did you say, 'It's exactly two o'clock'?”
“Because of a note I sent Varensky.” He changed the subject. “How were you captured?”
She hesitated. “It was after we'd quarreled. I was afraid I'd lost you. A messenger arrived, saying you were with the Governor and wanted me. It was a lie; the person who wanted me was Prince Rogovich.”
“Then Lajos betrayed you?”