Tullis was silent for a while. Then he said, quite seriously: "King, I have looked with some favour upon Vos Engo. I thought she liked him. He isn't a bad fellow, believe me. I want Loraine to be happy. As for this promise to him, I'll talk that over with her—if God permits me to see her again I shall allow her to choose, King. You or Vos Engo—the one she loves, that's all. As for seconding you, I am at your service."
King beamed. "That means, I take it, that you want me to win at least one of the contests. Well," with his whimsical, irresistible smile, "it won't be necessary to try for the other if Vos Engo shoots me in this one."
"You will never know the extent of my gratitude, King. You have saved her from a hellish fate. I shall be disappointed in her if she does not choose you. I owe you a debt of gratitude almost as great for saving that dear little boy of—ours. I shall not forget what you have done—never!"
Early in the afternoon the force under Captain Haas was divided into three companies, for strategic purposes. The plan to surprise and defeat the skulkers in the ravine had been carefully thought out. Two strong companies struck off into the hills; the third and weakest of the trio kept the road, apparently marching straight into the trap. Signals had been arranged. At a given sign the three parties were to swoop down upon the position held by the enemy.
Several hours passed. The troop in the highroad prepared to camp just below the treacherous pass in which the ambush was known to be laid. Scouts had located the confident rascals in the ravines above the highway. With the news that their prey was approaching, they were being rapidly rushed into position at the head of the pass.
Shortly before sunset the troop in the road began to advance, riding resolutely into the ravine. Even as the gloating, excited desperadoes prepared to open fire from their hidden position at the head of the pass, their pickets came running in with the word that two large forces were drawing in on them from the north and east.
The trappers were trapped. They realised that they had been out-generalled, and they understood their deficiencies. Not a man among them knew the finer points of warfare. They were thugs and roustabouts and ill-omened fellows who could stab in the back; they were craven in the face of an open peril.
There were few shots fired. The men in ambuscade tried to escape to the fastnesses of the hills. Some of them stood ground and fought, only to be mown down by the enemy; others were surrounded and made captive; but few actually succeeded in evading the troopers. All were ready to sue for mercy and to proclaim their willingness to divert allegiance from dictator to Crown. Herded like so many cattle, guarded like wolves, they were driven city-ward, few if any of them exhibiting the slightest symptom of regret or discomfiture. In fact, they seemed more than philosophic: they were most jovial. These were soldiers of fortune, in the plainest sense. It mattered little with whom they were allied or against whom they fought, so long as the pay was adequate and prompt.
Indeed, the leaders of the party—officers by grace of lucky tosses—benignly proffered the services of themselves and men in the movement to displace Count Marlanx!
"He cannot hold out," said the evil-faced captain in cool derision. "He cannot keep his promises to us. So why should we cut our own throats? All we ask is transportation to Austria after the job's over. That's where most of us came from, your Excellencies. Count on us, if you need us. Down with Marlanx!"