Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 (96 page)

They both politely bowed
their acquiescence, and Major Ronge thought to himself: ‘She is either mad or
foxing. Probably the latter. She has dressed up to lend colour to this crazy
nonsense, and is simply talking against time to give her pet Colonel a better
chance to get away.’

Ilona continued to play
nervously with her sash, but she knew that etiquette forbade them to interrupt
her, and went on jerkily:

“How surprised you must
have been when you found your prisoner gone this morning. And the poor priest
all tied up in his bed. What a wicked man Count Königstein must be to have done
all these terrible things. We thought he was a nihilist at first until we
recognized him: then it came out how he had got hold of his priest’s clothes. I
am terribly proud to have caught such a slippery customer after he had managed
to get away from such clever people as yourselves. He gave us very little
trouble, though, and after a time seemed quite resigned. But what a fool he
must be to have come here instead of swimming the river while he had the
chance. He wanted me to get him a new trial in Vienna, you know. I wouldn’t
hear of it. I felt that he should get what he deserved.”

Major Ronge regarded her
with a tolerant smile. He guessed that she meant another chance to escape. But
he was not worried. Count Zelltin had had his troops out in the mountains for
the past three hours. If, as he suspected now, she had provided the prisoner
with a change of clothes and sent him off soon after she had telephoned, he would
not get very far. There were many hours of daylight yet, and they would have
him back in gaol again before the evening.

“Of course,” remarked
Ilona. “There are fools, and
fools,
aren’t there? He may not have neglected his chance to get away across the Rhine
this morning because he is a born fool, but because he was fool enough to risk
his life for a few moments with the woman he loves. I wonder if you had thought
of that?”

Count Zelltin continued
to look blank and to fidget uncomfortably, but Major Ronge permitted himself a
slight smile. He had certainly thought of that; and he was sure too that he was
witnessing the spectacle of a desperate woman fighting for time to give the man
she loved a chance to escape from death. He did not think, though, that she
could keep it up for very much longer; and he was right.

Ilona stood up, and said:
“I expect you would like to see my prisoner. Come with me, and I will take you
to him.”

As they followed her from
the room, the K.S. Chief hid a grin. He could guess what was going to happen
now. She would take them to the cellar, unlock the door, and they would find it
empty. Probably the bars of a small window in it would have been forced aside,
and she would exclaim with pretended astonishment at the clever prisoner having
got away again.

But she did not take them
to the cellar. Instead, she led them to a door that opened into the largest
room in the châlet. Outside it, she turned, and said with an excited laugh:

“I expect you are
wondering why I am wearing my hair loose? But, as I told you, I am leaving
Austria. I had it done that way this morning to symbolize my new freedom.” Then
she opened the door and they followed her into the room.

In it were a dozen
people: Sárolta and Marie Nopsca, both, like Ilona, in evening dress; Adam
Grünne and an elderly man who was Ilona’s new equerry, both in full dress
uniform; her secretary, her chaplain, her reader, nurses and servants. On a
table at one end of the room a cold buffet was spread and in ice-buckets there
were several magnums of champagne. All those present held a glass of wine in
their hands. Near the table stood De Richleau, dressed in tails and a white
tie.

Ilona led Count Zelltin
and Major Ronge up to him. As her eyes met his. her nervousness disappeared.
With her sweetest smile, she said to them:

“Gentlemen. Here is my
prisoner. He came here because of his great love for me. And I love him so much
that I could not bear to let him go. At half past two this afternoon I am
taking him to Switzerland. I hope that you will join us in a glass of wine to
wish us luck on our journey; and to console yourselves for the thought that in
the four hours before we leave it would be quite impossible for you get a
document from Vienna empowering you to stop us.”

She paused for a moment,
laughed with the splendid gaiety of youth that has broken all the bonds of
care, and cried:

“I need hardly remind you
that no member of the Imperial family can be arrested without a signed order
from the Emperor. And half an hour ago my chaplain enabled me to increase the
family circle.”

Taking De Richleau’s arm,
she added: “It is my pleasure, gentlemen, to present you to my husband.”

This book, designed by William B. Taylor is
a production of Edito-Service S. A., Geneva

Printed in France Bound in Switzerland