The Woman of Mystery - Part 40
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Part 40

As he had said, this one last effort could succeed only through promptness and audacity; and it had to be made in the spirit in which a man makes a desperate move. Ten minutes more would see the end of the adventure. Ten minutes and he would be either victorious or a dead man.

Every action which he performed from that moment was as orderly and methodical as if he had had time to think it out carefully and to ensure its inevitable success, whereas in reality he was forming a series of separate decisions as he went along and as the tragic circ.u.mstances seemed to call for them.

Taking a roundabout way and keeping to the slopes of the mounds formed by the sand thrown up in the works, he reached the hollow communication-road between the quarries and the garrison-camp. On the last of these rounds, his foot struck a block of stone which gave way beneath him. On stooping and groping with his hands, he perceived that this block held quite a heap of sand and pebbles in position behind it.

"That's what I want," he said, without a moment's reflection.

And, giving the stone a mighty kick, he sent the heap shooting into the road with a roar like an avalanche.

Paul jumped down among the stones, lay flat on his chest and began to scream for help, as though he had met with an accident.

From where he lay, it was impossible, owing to the winding of the road, to hear him in the barracks; but the least cry was bound to carry as far as the shed at the mouth of the tunnel, which was only a hundred yards away at most. The soldiers on guard came running along at once.

He counted only five of them. In an almost unintelligible voice, he gave incoherent, gasping replies to the corporal's questions and conveyed the impression that he had been sent by Prince Conrad to bring back the Comtesse Hermine.

Paul was quite aware that his stratagem had no chance of succeeding beyond a very brief s.p.a.ce of time; but every minute gained was of inestimable value, because Bernard would make use of it on his side to take action against the sixth man, the sentry outside the tunnel, and to make his escape with Prince Conrad. Perhaps that man would come as well. Or else perhaps Bernard would get rid of him without using his revolver and therefore without attracting attention.

And Paul, gradually raising his voice, was spluttering out vague explanations, which only irritated without enlightening the corporal, when a shot rang out, followed by two others.

For the moment the corporal hesitated, not knowing for certain where the sound came from. The men stood away from Paul and listened. Thereupon he pa.s.sed through them and walked straight on, without their realizing, in the darkness, that it was he who was moving away. Then, at the first turn, he started running and reached the shed in a few strides.

Twenty yards in front of him, at the mouth of the tunnel, he saw Bernard struggling with Prince Conrad, who was trying to escape. Near them, the sentry was dragging himself along the ground and moaning.

Paul saw clearly what he had to do. To lend Bernard a hand and with him attempt to run the risk of flight would have been madness, because their enemies would inevitably have caught them up and in any case Prince Conrad would have been set free. No, the essential thing was to stop the rush of the five other men, whose shadows were already appearing at the bend in the road, and thus to enable Bernard to get away with the prince.

Half-hidden behind the shed, he aimed his revolver at them and cried:

"Halt!"

The corporal did not obey and ran on into the belt of light. Paul fired.

The German fell, but only wounded, for he began to command in a savage tone:

"Forward! Go for him! Forward, can't you, you funks!"

The men did not stir a step. Paul seized a rifle from the stack which they had made of theirs near the shed and, while taking aim at them, was able to give a glance backwards and to see that Bernard had at last mastered Prince Conrad and was leading him well into the tunnel.

"It's only a question of holding out for five minutes," thought Paul, "so that Bernard may go as far as possible."

And he was so calm at this moment that he could have counted those minutes by the steady beating of his pulse.

"Forward! Rush at him! Forward!" the corporal kept clamoring, having doubtless seen the figures of the two fugitives, though without recognizing Prince Conrad.

Rising to his knees, he fired a revolver-shot at Paul, who replied by breaking his arm with a bullet. And yet the corporal went on shouting at the top of his voice:

"Forward! There are two of them making off through the tunnel! Forward!

Here comes help!"

It was half-a-dozen soldiers from the barracks, who had run up at the sound of the shooting. Paul had now made his way into the shed. He broke a window-pane and fired three shots. The soldiers made for shelter; but others arrived, took their orders from the corporal and dispersed; and Paul saw them scrambling up the adjoining slopes in order to head him off. He fired his rifle a few more times; but what was the good? All hope of resistance had long since disappeared.

He persevered, however, killing his adversaries at intervals, firing incessantly and thus gaining all the time possible. But he saw that the enemy was maneuvering with the object of first circ.u.mventing him and then making for the tunnel and chasing the fugitives.

Paul set his teeth. He was really aware of each second that pa.s.sed, of each of those inappreciable seconds which increased Bernard's distance.

Three men disappeared down the yawning mouth of the tunnel; then a fourth; then a fifth. Moreover, the bullets were now beginning to rain upon the shed.

Paul made a calculation:

"Bernard must be six or seven hundred yards away. The three men pursuing him have gone fifty yards . . . seventy-five yards now. That's all right."

A serried ma.s.s of Germans were coming towards the shed. It was evidently not believed that Paul was alone, so quickly did he fire. This time there was nothing for it but to surrender.

"It's time," he thought. "Bernard is outside the danger-zone."

He suddenly rushed at the board containing the handles which corresponded with the mine-chambers in the tunnel, smashed the gla.s.s with the b.u.t.t-end of his rifle and pulled down the first handle and the second.

The earth seemed to shake. A thunderous roar rolled under the tunnel and spread far and long, like a reverberating echo.

The way was blocked between Bernard d'Andeville and the eager pack that was trying to catch him. Bernard could take Prince Conrad quietly to France.

Then Paul walked out of the shed, raising his arms in the air and crying, in a cheerful voice:

"_Kamerad! Kamerad!_"

Ten men surrounded him in a moment; and the officer who commanded them shouted, in a frenzy of rage:

"Let him be shot! . . . At once . . . at once! . . . Let him be shot!

CHAPTER XVII

THE LAW OF THE CONQUEROR

Brutally handled though he was, Paul offered no resistance; and, while they were pushing him with needless violence towards a perpendicular part of the cliff, he continued his inner calculations:

"It is mathematically certain that the two explosions took place at distances of three hundred and four hundred yards, respectively. I can therefore also take it as certain that Bernard and Prince Conrad were on the far side and that the men in pursuit were on this side. So all is for the best."

Docilely and with a sort of chaffing complacency he submitted to the preparations for his execution. The twelve soldiers entrusted with it were already drawn up in line under the bright rays of an electric search-light and were only waiting for the order. The corporal whom he had wounded early in the fight dragged himself up to him and snarled:

"Shot! . . . You're going to be shot, you dirty _Franzose_!"

He answered, with a laugh:

"Not a bit of it! Things don't happen as quickly as all that."

"Shot!" repeated the other. "_Herr Leutnant_ said so."