i spent the ensuing hours in reasoning with von lindheim against his panic, and endeavouring to instil hope into him. naturally, under circumstances which would have shaken the strongest nerves, it was not easy, but at length i succeeded in calming him, and he seemed to take a sufficiently resolute view of the situation to bring himself to discuss the best plan for relieving it.
i now determined to postpone our flight for a day, while i would go to buyda, see the chancellor, and remonstrate with him, pointing out how unnecessary and cruel these devilish precautions were.
accordingly, having made von lindheim promise to do nothing rash in my absence, i had a horse saddled, and after an early breakfast rode off to buyda, choosing that mode of travel rather than the railway, as being calculated to give any spies less indication of a prolonged journey.
i have often wondered since at my temerity in bearding the jaguar in his den; but in those days i was strong and confident; even the ghastly business in the midst of which chance had thrown me had hardly shaken my nerves, and then, again, i did not imagine myself to be in such danger as the sequel showed to be the case. the morning was fair and bright after an early shower, and as i rode along with a winding sparkling river below me on the one hand, [pg 105]and the dark blue masses of pine-clad hills on the other, i could not help contrasting nature’s tranquil beauty with the hideousness of man’s cruelty. an old theme, but one that appealed to me very strongly that summer morning.
i arrived at buyda before mid-day, and leaving my horse at the hotel made my way straight to the chancellor’s quarters in the palace. having sent up my name with a request to have an audience of him on urgent business, a message was brought back that his excellency was with the king, but that he would be happy to see me at a later hour in the afternoon. so i went back to the hotel and lunched. afterwards, as i was preparing to go out for a stroll in the city to kill time, a precautionary measure occurred to me, which i proceeded to put into practice. i wrote down certain particulars, sealed them in an envelope, and then went to the office of the british consul, with whom i had already a slight acquaintance. he was a very much bored man, for whom even the pleasantest side of life in buyda had ceased to have any charm, and he was evidently, as a relief from the monotony, glad to see me.
“i am going to leave this letter with you, mr. turnour,” i said. “if i don’t come back or send for it before to-morrow morning, open it.”
he opened his eyes. “and what then?”
“it will explain itself.”
“my dear fellow,” he said rather anxiously, “i hope you are not going to do anything rash, run into any danger.”
i laughed. “i am not going to leave buyda, if i can help it, before i come back for that letter.”
“no?”
“no. what danger should there be here?”
“none to a british subject,” he answered guardedly. “all the same, queer things do happen sometimes.”
[pg 106]
“under the enlightened rule of chancellor rallenstein?”
he looked grave, and as though he would like to say more to me than he dared. “rallenstein is a strong man; one of the strongest brains in europe, and”—he sank his voice—“he is not credited with an excess of scruples.”
i refrained from looking as though i could illustrate that opinion in highly coloured fashion, and rose to go. turnour was a weak man—a good official, but a machine. certainly not the man to take into an appalling confidence.
“all right,” i said. “i’ll take care of myself. only, a stranger in an out-of-the-way place like this is easily lost sight of and never missed. i shall, no doubt, come back for that letter to-night.”
he locked it in a drawer, and after a few commonplaces i left him and went back through the city towards the palace. the place was busy and gay as usual; people get used to living under the very frown of a despotic government as at the foot of a volcano.
at the hour appointed, i was ushered into rallenstein’s presence. he received me with a smile which might almost be called genial, and apologized for having had to ask me to postpone my audience.
“you have been in the country, herr tyrrell, nicht wahr? you are looking well. englishmen thrive best away from town life.” i wondered if there was a covert meaning in that. “now,” he added pleasantly, “how can i have the pleasure of serving you?”
“i have come from herr von lindheim.”
“ah, yes?” there was simply polite interest in his look and tone. the heavy face gave no evil sign as i spoke the name.
“not as an ambassador from him, but entirely on my own initiative.”
[pg 107]
“yes?” the tone was still polite, now almost verging towards boredom.
“von lindheim,” i said, “is in fear of his life.”
the thick eyebrows rose incredulously. “in fear of his life?”
i felt the man’s power of will and character, and determined to stand up against it. “and with reason,” i continued. “your excellency will, i am sure, not blame him for such a fancy when i tell you that within the last few days two colleagues of his have been secretly assassinated, and his own life has been attempted.”
the face i was watching gave an incredulous frown. “my dear herr tyrrell, this is an extraordinary and astounding statement of yours. two of herr von lindheim’s colleagues assassinated and his life attempted! you can scarcely expect me to credit that.”
“and yet,” i rejoined boldly, “your excellency should know these facts better than i.”
at last a great gust swept over the mobile face. “what do you mean, sir?” he demanded, with a show of restrained displeasure.
“only, that as both these gentlemen, these victims, had the honour to be attached to your excellency’s bureau, you should be better informed of their fate than i.”
“i am, naturally, well aware,” he replied, “that herr d’urban was accidentally drowned the other day while boating, but,” he added with a smile, “it can hardly be pretended that our service, advantageous as i venture to claim it is, confers immortality.”
i returned his smile. “rather the reverse just now, herr chancellor. the secretary szalay also has died suddenly.”
“from natural causes?”
[pg 108]
“i wish i could think so.”
“you suggest foul play?”
“i fear i must.”
he laughed indulgently.
“really, herr tyrrell, i have always given an englishman credit for being the incarnation of common sense.”
“i hope i am not less sensible than the average of my countrymen. and that quality would certainly lead me to the conclusion that foul play is at work.”
he bowed, still sneeringly indulgent. “perhaps you can suggest a motive.”
“simply that these unfortunate men are supposed to have knowledge of a dangerous secret.”
he raised his eyebrows in contemptuous surprise.
“mr. tyrrell, this is too absurd! you can hardly suggest or expect me to entertain such an inference seriously.”
“it is a strange coincidence.”
“if you had studied our german philosophers you would have ceased to find anything strange in mere coincidence.”
“perhaps so. it would need, however, a great deal of philosophy to refute my theory of foul play.”
i began to understand the rampart of polite incredulity behind which rallenstein had entrenched himself, and how hopeless it was for me either to break through or entice him from it. nevertheless, i continued:
“there is no doubt that an attempt was made to kill herr von lindheim by poison.”
“you have proof?” the question was put almost carelessly, with just as much show of interest as politeness demanded.
“the proof of my own eyes.”
“not always the most trustworthy witnesses,” he observed, with his cynical smile.
[pg 109]
“your excellency,” i said, “seems determined not to be interested in what has happened. so be it. my purpose in coming here to-day was to assure you of herr von lindheim’s loyalty, and to beg you to use your authority to put a stop to the attempts against his life.”
“you would seem to imply, sir,” he replied, stroking his face with his hand, “that these attempts which you allege have a political motive.”
“assuredly.”
“it is too ridiculous,” he said, as though to himself. “my good sir, you have found a mare’s nest.”
i leaned forward. “excellency,” i said earnestly, “can we not come to an understanding? i make no accusations, i seek to know nothing; my interference is merely forced upon me by pity and a desire to clear up a misunderstanding. i ask you to remove this cloud of danger hanging over herr von lindheim’s head. you can do it if you will, and i can assure you you will not repent it.”
if i thought my entreaty would move him i was mistaken. i might as well have pleaded with the bronze statue of a warrior king that stood in the corner behind him. he waved me back.
“your appeal involves an accusation which i utterly repudiate. you are a foreigner, herr tyrrell, and therefore i have heard you with an indulgence which your suggestion scarcely deserves. to ask me to give a pledge against a chimerical danger is more than absurd. i do not wish to make use of strong language, or i might point out in such that the object of your visit might easily be construed into a flagrant insult to his majesty whose humble adviser i have the honour to be. if i might offer you a word of advice, it would be that so long as you choose to avail yourself of the hospitality of this country you should devote your time to sport or pleasure, and avoid [pg 110]mixing yourself up in affairs which do not concern you. even were this monstrous suggestion of yours in any way true, the interference of an outsider could serve no tangible end. you will do well to consider your position in the light of that common sense which is, i believe, the birthright of most englishmen. that is all.”
i rose. “i have then no comforting assurance to take herr von lindheim, excellency?”
“herr von lindheim’s life is in no more danger than your own.”
a delphic pronouncement truly! “i have no fear of that,” i laughed.
“and yet,” he rejoined, fox-like, “if your veiled accusations were correct, you might stand in some danger yourself.”
the speech was tentative. i saw that, and determined not to be led into any admission.
“i have no fear,” i said, “and can take care of myself.”
“you are a bold man.”
“to have come here?”
he laughed. and i understood better than ever why he was called the jaguar. though the flesh of the lower part of his face was loose and mobile, the skin over his forehead was drawn tight, his eyes were feline, and the lines of his mouth cruel. but when it suited him to put on a pleasant expression the stealthy cruelty of the face in a measure disappeared. now there was the look it had worn glaring through the window at that fatal marriage, the look that had bent over the murdered bridegroom’s face. but i maintained my dogged resolve not to be overawed by the man or the devil within him.
“my confidence in coming here,” i answered coolly, “is due less to courage than the fact that i have left a letter, containing word of my intention, together [pg 111]with several other pertinent matters, in the hands of a friend whom i can trust, and who will open it at a certain hour unless i am there to prevent him.”
my words amounted almost to a threat, at least, to a defiance, and the look they called up into his excellency’s eyes was not a pleasant one. but he showed no other sign of annoyance; on the contrary, his next words were almost jocular.
“i trust, herr tyrrell, that you will take great care to avoid all accidents. for if anything should unfortunately happen to you while we have the honour to include you among our country’s guests, i take it that the responsibility—or worse—of such misfortune would be laid at our door. so i do hope you will take care of yourself, my dear herr tyrrell.”
“i will do my best,” i replied, bowing, and moving towards the door. i turned as he spoke again. the man looked genial enough now; the evil print on the face was smoothed over, the lines of cunning no longer made the rest stand out in relief.
“and so far as your friend’s fears are concerned,” he said, “you may take him my assurance that they are groundless. herr von lindheim is doubtless out of health, his nerves are unstrung. he needs a holiday; he may take one.”
“i have your assurance, excellency?”
“you have my assurance. i trust you will both be careful.”
he half rose to return my bow, smiling, though it seemed, from my last glance, that the smile was growing more feline and sinister. there was no more to be hoped for or said, and i left him.
