Half an hour later Ruxton was addressing himself to the black-haired, sallow-faced Va.s.silitz, who was urbanity itself in the face of the chief of the Wednesford police.

His story was exactly the same as he had told to the plain-clothes man, and no amount of cross-examination could elicit the smallest shadow of contradiction.

Madame was frequently in the habit of going away suddenly and remaining away indefinite periods. But usually she used her own car, and rarely took her maid. Sometimes she said when she would be back; sometimes not. On this occasion she did not. No, she was unaccompanied except for her maid, Francella, Va.s.silitz's own sister. And she, Francella, had given him no information. Madame was very secret in her movements.

Doubtless madame would return in due course, as she had always done. He hoped no accident had happened. He was devoted to madame, whom he had known all his life.

Even the matter of letters in no way disconcerted him. They were all there on the hall table. But he appealed to the chief of police for authority to show them.

The chief a.s.sumed the responsibility, and they were produced.

They were examined carefully, and all but one telegram were duly handed back to the butler. The telegram was sequestered by the officer, but remained unopened.

There was nothing more to be gained from Va.s.silitz, and the car rolled away. And as they went, Ruxton, in an agony of painful conviction, gazed sombrely back at the beautiful old Elizabethan structure in its perfect setting, which was the home of the woman he loved.

He was aroused from his despairing contemplation by the voice of the officer beside him.

"There's trickery afoot, sir," he said emphatically, "and I'll lay a month's salary that black-haired Va.s.silitz is in it."

Ruxton turned sharply.

"What makes you so convinced?" he enquired thickly.

"Why, the letters. Every one of 'em has been opened. So has this telegram. Didn't you twig it, sir?"

Ruxton confessed his oversight, and the officer beamed pleasant satisfaction.

"That's where experience comes in, sir," he went on. "There never was a system of opening letters that couldn't be detected by those who know.

I've made a study of it. Those letters have all been opened--all of 'em. What about this telegram, sir?"

"If it's mine, then the Princess has not left of her own free will. I'm afraid it's mine."

"Princess, sir?"

"Yes. She's the Princess von Hertzwohl!"

The officer's face had become a study. He was impressed more deeply than ever.

"Er--shall I open it, sir?" he hesitated.

Ruxton nodded.

"You may as well."

The man tore it open and glanced at the contents. A flush spread over his already florid cheeks.

"It's yours, sir," he said. Then he added in a low tone: "I'm--I'm sorry, sir."

For answer he suddenly felt a forceful clutch on his arm.

"The Princess has been kidnapped," cried Ruxton, in a voice deep with pa.s.sionate intensity. "Do you understand? She was waiting at her house there for that message. Nothing but force would have caused her to leave it until she received that message."

Ruxton's extreme dejection on his return to town was changed abruptly into even greater alarm.

His secretary was nervously awaiting him. Nor could he restrain his impatience. Heathcote was in the hall when Ruxton's key turned in the lock. The young man held a long telegram in his hand and flourished it towards his employer the moment the door closed.

"It's from Sir Andrew," he said. "There's trouble--trouble at Dorby."

Ruxton s.n.a.t.c.hed at the ominous paper and his eyes eagerly sought the boldly-written message.

"Explosion here at 6 A. M. Drawing offices completely wrecked. Serious fire. Certain departments damaged and had narrow escape complete destruction.--Farlow."

It was the second blow in a few hours. Ruxton was. .h.i.t hard. He read into the message all the ominous facts which had been left unwritten.

But in a moment he had been roused out of himself. The loss of the woman he loved had left him stunned in a curious degree. He had been attacked thereby through the sensitive organism which controlled all that belonged to the emotional side of the human heart. A terrible weight of depression had overwhelmed him for the moment. Now it was different. Here was a tangible attack. Here was something that left his heart untouched, but roused instead all the human fighting instinct which had lain dormant within him. There was no deadening apathy, there was no feeling of helplessness. He was alive, alert, and full of battle. So he prepared for a second night in succession to be spent on the railway.

"I must go to Dorby to-night," he said briefly. Then he added, as he pa.s.sed up-stairs to his library: "Get on to Scotland Yard and put me through."

CHAPTER XXII

A MEANS OF ESCAPE

In the valley of Bar-Leighton the climatic pendulum had swung again. A radiant sort of Indian summer seemed to have definitely set in. Now the sun was shining, and fleecy clouds swept along the bosom of a brisk southeasterly breeze.

But the sinister genius of the place remained unchanging. It would have been optimism of a superlative order to claim that Prince von Berger ever really changed. For those in contact with him it was impossible to believe him capable of warmth or feeling. Even Ludwig von Salzinger, whose human feelings were of a grosser, baser type, regarded him as a mere mechanism, inspired by some brilliant detached evil genius. He had no love for him, contact with him depressed him, and his prevailing emotion was one of fear.

Von Berger turned from the table at which he was sitting. He pa.s.sed a long doc.u.ment across to Von Salzinger, who was standing before the log fire crackling in the great dining-room fireplace. The Prince had read it through from beginning to end. He had read it again, and then again, so that its contents had almost been committed to memory. Von Salzinger accepted it in a silence which was the effect of his superior's example. And, still following that example, he read it through with the closest attention. Meanwhile Von Berger's dispa.s.sionate gaze was turned upon the brilliant sunlight pouring in through the wide and lofty window, which opened out upon a vista of parkland and rolling gra.s.s.

It was a written report from Johann Stryj, and it had been delivered that morning by hand.

"By the time this report reaches your Excellency the completion of our plans of destruction will have been reached. They will have been put into operation. The drawing office, where all plans and designs are locked in a strong-room, has been a simple enough matter to arrange.

One of our agents works in that department. The development there is timed for 6 A. M. on the morning you will receive this. It is certain--certain as anything human can be.

"With regard to the docks and slipways there has been greater difficulty, infinitely more so, since these are under direct official control. However, we have seven agents amongst the operatives, and three of our different points of attack are under the immediate foremanship of Heuferman himself, upon whom I wish to report most favorably. The explosions here are to be synchronized with the others.

"In the case of the other matter I have a less satisfactory report to make. Our man certainly landed somewhere on the coast in this region.

He was certainly traced to one night's shelter at a certain house, of whose ident.i.ty your Excellency is aware. The house was penetrated and searched, but the man had taken his departure. There is a possibility he has made his way to London, and our agents there are using every endeavor to trace him. I have as yet received no report from them. My own impression, not based upon evidence, is that he is concealed in our own neighborhood. If this be so I hope later to have a good report to make on the matter to your Excellency.

"The movements of the Englishmen are simple to follow. They are both closely watched. The elder remains here attendant upon the work of construction. He is in our hands at any moment, at your Excellency's commands. The younger, too, can be dealt with effectually. He pa.s.ses frequently between here and London, and at both ends, and on the journey, he is closely observed. It has now been ascertained that he is working with Scotland Yard in the interests of the woman. But on the result of this combination I have instructed the man on the spot to report himself directly to your Excellency, in accordance with your orders. I understand, however, and would call your Excellency's attention--most earnest attention--to the matter that three of our men in that neighborhood are closely shadowed by men from Scotland Yard.

Consequently their services are denied us. These men can be relied on, of course, to give no information, but it points the energy behind the search for the woman and the direction of the suspicions aroused.