CHAPTER XX.
FOILED.
For a moment Helene stood irresolute, unable to realise her position. Then the nearness of the fierce Dardanians and the still more terrible doctor occurred to her, and she walked away with tottering steps. Fear drove her on, for even when she had plunged into the wood, she thought she heard the bushes crackling behind her, and she could not feel safe until she came upon Jakob once more. The quiet glade, with the old man still snoring peacefully under his tree, seemed a haven of refuge, and she staggered towards him, her knees knocking together, and collapsed helplessly on the ground. The gasping sobs which she could not repress awoke Jakob, who was much concerned to find her in such a state. She would not tell him what had alarmed her, and as Jakob was firmly under the impression that he had only dozed off for a second or two, he attributed her fright to a snake, and expended much energy in beating about among the tree-roots and last year’s dead leaves with a stick. He found nothing, naturally, and seeing that Helene was quite incapable of going on with her sketch, suggested that they should return to the inn, lest Hannele should scold him for allowing her Highness to sit on the ground. There were unmistakable marks of mould on Helene’s linen skirt, which meant a cross-examination from Hannele, and in desperation she stood up, supporting herself against a tree, while Jakob removed the stains as well as he could with his handkerchief and the water he had carried for her painting.
“There, Highness!” he said at last, looking up with honest pride. “It will dry before we reach home, and Hannele will be none the wiser.”
“Thanks, Jakob,” his mistress answered absently. “Do you know whether the two English gentlemen who were on the terrace this morning are staying another night?”
“Their horses were being saddled when we started, Highness,” replied Jakob, with placid indifference. “There is nothing to see at Drinitza except the river-cave, so why should they stay?”
Helene’s heart sank. For a moment the wild idea of rescuing Cyril immediately had occurred to her. Usk was away, and William with him, but surely those two Englishmen might be depended upon to help another Englishman? Now that hope was gone; and with deeper sinking of heart she remembered that the Chevalier had started on one of his periodical journeys to Vindobona, so that it would be no use to send in to Novigrad. There was the landlord, at any rate, an old soldier, and there were two or three men employed about the inn, and several strong fellows in the village, and there was Jakob, who might be trusted to follow her leading—but was it right, was it even prudent, to oppose these men, practically unarmed, to the Dardanians, each of whom was a kind of walking arsenal? She turned the matter over in her mind as they walked back to the inn, and at last decided to lay it before the landlord, and see what he thought. But disappointment was awaiting her when she arrived, for the landlord had gone into Novigrad for the day.
This last blow was too much for Helene, and she resigned herself meekly into the hands of Hannele, who had brooded over her mistress’s sharp words all the time of her absence, and now had the additional grievance of her evident exhaustion to gratify her. She took peremptory possession of Helene, removed her gown and shoes, fed her with soup, and made her lie down, scolding all the time, and having adjured her to go to sleep, went away to scold Jakob.
Helene had yielded to her ministrations and reproaches because she had no spirit to resist; but the moment the door had closed behind the maid her head started up from the pillow. She could not think properly lying down, and that great guarded house in the forest seemed to be crying out to her to do something. What should she do? what could she do? The memory of that helpless prisoner, who did not even realise that he was in prison, drew her back to the Pelenko mansion as though with cords. If only she had made herself known to him, spoken to him in English, addressed him by his own name, surely recollection would have returned to the dulled brain? And she had remained speechless, not uttering a word, terror and astonishment holding her so fast in their grip that she had made no use whatever of this tremendous opportunity! How could she meet Usk and Mr Hicks, who had dared so much for Cyril’s rescue without result, if she had to confess to them that she had been face to face with him and had not even spoken?
The thought was intolerable, and in a moment she was out of bed and throwing on the pink cotton gown which Hannele had finished mending, and had left prominently on the back of a chair as if to reproach her. Too much engrossed in her quest to think of her own dignity, she crept down the stairs with her shoes in her hand, and once safely past the room in which she could hear Hannele’s voice rating Jakob, put them on, and turned into the path which led up the hill. At the summit she paused, breathless, and put on her gloves. There was absolutely no reason why she should feel so frightened, as if she were doing something dreadful. Why should she not go out for a walk alone if she chose? She was an Englishwoman now, and Usk had often laughed at her because she disliked to go down the street without Hannele or Jakob in attendance. She was simply taking an afternoon walk, and what possible objection could there be to her going round by the Pelenko mansion? She did not even know that she should try to obtain entrance to the grounds—certainly not by that dreadful corner, which the Dardanian who had watched her must know well, if Cyril did not—but it might save time later if she walked round the place and looked carefully to see if there was any other way of getting in. As if to emphasise to herself the perfect propriety and openness of her intentions, she did not take the usual way through the forest, but went straight down to the high road, and walked along it in a westerly direction until she could see the battered chimneys of the house rising above the encircling trees. She shivered as she turned into the rugged lane, miscalled a road, which led up to the gates, and her eyes sought narrowly among the undergrowth on either hand for the brightness and glitter of the Dardanian dress. There seemed to be no one lying in wait just here, however, and she went on to the gates, which had always been fast shut when Usk and she had caught a glimpse of them hitherto. A gasp of astonishment broke from her when she reached them. On this day, of all days, they were open, as if to invite her to enter.
“It is a miracle!” thought Helene reverently; “a sign, perhaps, that the good God will allow me to do something to help the dear Count,” and with a prayer on her lips she passed fearlessly in. The drive which led through the thick shrubbery was as rough and full of ruts as the lane outside—nay, the shrubbery was encroaching upon it, for bushes were springing up among the weeds which concealed the gravel. As she neared the house, however, she heard the pawing of impatient horses, and thought it prudent to creep into the wood. Reaching the end of the drive, and peeping through the branches, she saw to her amazement a carriage, laden with luggage, standing before the door. Several of the Dardanians were at work adjusting the various packages, and others were lounging about in front of the house. Presently Cyril appeared on the steps, and for one moment she thought he had seen her, for his eyes seemed to meet hers, but he turned to send his servant back for something, and, without looking at her, began to wave and twist his hands about in a way that appeared to her woefully aimless and imbecile. Apparently impatient of the delay, he entered the carriage after a moment or two, and drawing up the window nearest her, proceeded to trace figures of some sort listlessly upon the glass with his finger. To Helene, as she watched, it looked as if he had written the word “Not,” but she could not be sure, since she naturally saw it backwards, as if reflected in a mirror. Before he could get any further, Dr Gregorescu came quickly down the steps, and apologising for being late, stepped into the carriage. Helene watched breathlessly to see what would happen next; but just as one of the Dardanians mounted the box, something was flung over her from behind, and she felt herself pulled down among the bushes.