The Secret Witness by George Gibbs (book recommendations txt) 📕

he would pass through the rural districts of eastern Hungary, proceeding all the while along the level country of the Danube or the Thiess, reaching Silesia—the long tail of the German Empire which thrust out between Poland and Galicia.

Renwick paced the room with quick strides. The theory hung together. And given this to be the plan of Goritz, had he succeeded in carrying it out? Possibly. But Hungary was wide. It was five hundred miles at least from Sarajevo to the Carpathians, and much may happen to an automobile in five hundred miles. Marishka, Yeva told him, had fainted. It would have been inhuman for Goritz to have taken her such a distance without a chance for rest or recuperation. Goritz! Every theory that Renwick devised seemed to fall to the ground when he thought of him. The cleverness of the man was amazing. And what lay behind his cleverness? What of decency or what of deviltry lay behind the mask that Renwick had seen? The man had treated her with consideration—for Marishka had not complained of his attitude toward her—until there in the Turkish house, when he had seized her by the arm....

Deliberation had gained something—only a theory as yet, but if a theory, one which stood the acid of inspection from every angle.

Renwick's task seemed hopeless, but that spirit of persistence, of which Marishka had once spoken, was one of the dominating characteristics of his nature. Given a sound purpose, a worthy desire, he was not easily dismayed, and desperate as his chances of finding Marishka now seemed, it did not enter his head to give up and seek his way—as he might easily have done—to the Serbian border and so to safety. Marishka had forgiven him! During the long days of his convalescence the memory of their brief joyous moments in the Turkish house had renewed and invigorated him. He had heard her calling to him across the distances—despairingly, but hoping against hope that the man she loved was still alive. It thrilled him to think that he could still come to her—if she would wait—come even from the grave and answer her call to him—the call of one brave spirit to another, which needed no material fact of physical utterance to make itself heard. He would find her—not soon perhaps, but all in good time. Providence had not saved him miraculously for failure, and it was written that he should succeed. The gods would be with him now and arm him against disaster. He rejoiced to find how strong he felt today. All the tremors had gone out of his nerves, and he was ready to begin his journey whenever it should be time. But first he wanted to question Selim—Goritz had passed this house—there was a chance ...

Selim Ali returned from the fields at supper time, greeted Renwick with bluff heartiness, and together they sat at a substantial meal of Jungfern-Braten, over which Selim's wife Zaidee presided. In the light of events, Renwick willingly reconstructed his estimate of Selim. Last night Renwick would have been suspicious of the angel Gabriel, but with the courage of the sunlight had come confidence in himself, and faith in his star. It seemed that Zubeydeh had told her cousin nothing of Renwick's nationality or predicament, but that he was a friend who had gotten into a trouble, and that the police of Sarajevo were looking for him. Selim was to shelter him and speed him upon his way. Selim asked many questions which Renwick answered as he chose, biding his own time. Yes, he, Stefan Thomasevics, had gotten into trouble in Sarajevo, all because of a woman (and this Renwick knew to be true), and desired to leave the country. He did not wish to go to the war and he would not fight against the Serbians who were not in the wrong. He, Thomasevics, wished to go north to Budapest where he would work in the factories and amass a fortune. Selim wagged his head wisely and laughed.

"You must work long, my young friend, and spend nothing," he said. "Come. You're a strong fellow—a little weak just now from smoking too many cigarettes and staying up too late at night. But I will give you work here upon my farm and pay you well."

But Thomasevics shook his head.

"Thank you. You are kind, but I have already made up my mind."

Selim shrugged and lighted his long pipe.

"As you will, but I have made you a good offer."

"A good offer. Yes. Which I would accept were my mind not set upon other matters." He paused and then, "Selim, you are a good fellow. I will tell you the truth. I would like to stay with you, but I am searching for something which may take me to the ends of the earth."

"That is a long way, my friend."

"Yes, a long way, when one doesn't know which way to go."

"Ah, that is even longer. There are but two things which will take a man like you so far as that—vengeance, or a woman."

Renwick smiled.

"I see that you are wise as well as clever. I go for both, Selim."

"A woman? Young?"

"Yes."

"Beautiful?"

"Yes."

"And the vengeance——"

"That shall be beautiful also."

Selim smoked his pipe solemnly and as Renwick hesitated,

"Will it please you to tell me more?" he asked.

Renwick deliberated.

"Yes. I am groping in the dark. And the darkness begins at Sarajevo. She left there in the night—with him."

"Ah, a man! Of course."

"They fled by the Visegrader Gate and they came upon this road, past this very house."

Selim shrugged.

"At night! It is a pity. I might have seen them but I sleep soundly."

"There are no other houses for a long distance in either direction. They might have stopped here."

"But they did not!" And as Renwick gave up despairingly, "You see, I worked very hard all last week and slept like a dead man."

"It was not last week," said Renwick gloomily, "almost two months ago——"

"Ah, as to that——" and Selim shrugged again. "One has no recollection of things that happened before the Hegira."

Of course it was hopeless. Renwick had only unraveled the thread to see how far it would lead. Here it broke off, and so he relinquished it. Rather wearily he sank back into his chair and gazed out of the window into the sunset.

Selim's wife entered with a tray to take away the dishes. She wore no yashmak, for Selim, though professing the Moslem faith, was somewhat lax in carrying out its articles. He did not believe in running a good thing into the ground, he said. So Zaidee came and went as she chose.

"I have been listening from the kitchen," she said with a smile. "It is always a woman that makes the trouble, nicht wahr?"

"Then how can Paradise be Paradise?" grunted Selim.

"Thou wouldst get on poorly without us, just the same," said Zaidee demurely.

"But I should not go to the ends of the earth, like Stefan, here."

"Thou! Thou dost not know the meaning of love. I wish I could help him."

"It is impossible," sneered Selim.

"But it is interesting," sighed Zaidee. "She went away with another man—that is cruel!"

"Perhaps Stefan is better off than he knows," said Selim.

"Selim," said Zaidee with great solemnity, "thou art a pig!"

"Pig I am not."

"Pig!" she repeated with more acerbity.

Renwick was in no mind to take a part in their quarrel and was moving toward the door of the adjoining room when a phrase caught his ear.

"And thou art a magpie, Zaidee, always croaking. It will get us into trouble, thy talking. I have but to set my foot outside the house and thy tongue wags like the clothing of a scarecrow."

"I have done no harm," she said angrily.

"It is no affair of thine—they will come again asking questions. I have no humor to talk with any of that accursed breed."

"What harm can come—if we tell the truth——?"

"Bah—what do the police care about the truth?"

Renwick turned and reëntered the room.

"The police!" he said quickly.

"Zaidee talks too much. A month ago in my absence they came inquiring."

"And what wouldst thou have said?" cried Zaidee angrily. "To shelter a sick woman is no crime——"

"I should have said nothing."

"And what happened?" asked Renwick eagerly, now aware of the bone that chance had thrown in the way of a starving man.

"In the middle of the night which followed the day upon which the Archduke was assassinated——"

"And whose tongue is wagging now—thou magpie?" put in Zaidee spitefully.

"Be quiet——" said Selim.

Renwick glared at the woman as though he would have liked to choke her, and she subsided.

"An automobile stopped at my door. There were three people, an Austrian officer, a lady who was sick, and a man who drove the car. They asked admittance on account of the Excellency who was sick. I could not refuse, for they said that they would pay me well."

Selim paused, hunting in his pockets for a match to light his pipe, and Renwick, containing his patience with difficulty, stood, his hands clenched behind him, waiting. They had stopped here—at this very house.

"And then——?" he asked calmly.

"We put the Excellency to bed——"

"I did," said Zaidee.

"Bah! What matter? They were bound upon a journey over the mountains to Vlasenica, where the Excellency was taking his wife for the waters."

"His wife," mumbled Renwick.

"They traveled at night to avoid the heat of midday, but the sudden sickness of the Excellency made further travel impossible."

"The officer Excellency lied——!" said Zaidee.

"Be quiet, thou——!" roared Selim.

"Let Zaidee speak. I am no policeman," said Renwick.

"What interest is it of yours?"

Renwick caught the man by the shoulders with both hands and glared at him.

"Merely because this is the woman I seek."

"An Excellency like—and you?"

"What I am does not matter. A hundred kroner if you tell the truth——"

"A hundred kroner——!"

His eyes searched Renwick eagerly, and then, "There is little I would not tell for a hundred kroner, but——"

"I am not of the police, I tell you. This lady is an Austrian noblewoman in danger."

"And the Austrian officer——"

"Is no Austrian, but an enemy of Austria——"

"A Serb——?"

"No."

"Who are you?"

"What does that matter?"

Selim shrugged. "Nothing perhaps—still——"

"And if I tell you, you will keep silent?"

"A hundred kroner will make me dumb."

"I am an Englishman," said Renwick after a moment.

"Ah—a spy!"

"No. A prisoner who has escaped."

"That is better."

"Speak!"

And as the man still hesitated Renwick unpinned the notes in his pocket and tossed one of them upon the table, in front of him. Selim took it eagerly.

"I am quite ready to believe anything you say——"

But Renwick seized his wrist in a strong grip. "You have not spoken yet."

"I will speak, then," said Zaidee. "Selim is a fool to hesitate. I nursed the Excellency for two nights and a day. I cooked her eggs and chicken and soup, but she would not eat. She was very much frightened."

"The man—he treated her badly?"

"Oh, no. Very politely, and paid us for our service, but the Excellency was frightened. I was kind to her, and she was grateful, but she spoke nothing of where she was going. Perhaps she did not know. But it was not to take the waters."

"You, Selim," broke in Renwick, "you heard the men speaking? What did they say?"

He shrugged.

"How can I remember? They planned their journey with a map, but I had no interest——"

"What map——?"

"A map—how should I know——"

"Of Hungary——"

"Hungary!" And then scratching his head, "Yes, it must have been of Hungary, for they spoke of Budapest——"

"And what else? The Danube—the Thiess?"

"I do not remember?"

"You must——!" Renwick's fingers closed again upon the hundred kroner note which Selim had put back on the table.

"What good would it do if I lied to you?"

"Think, man, think! They made marks upon the map?"

"Marks? Oh, yes—marks."

"Up and down, the way they were sitting?"

"Yes. I think so. By the beard of the Prophet! You can't expect a fellow to remember such things as this for two months."

"Did they speak of mountains?"

"Mountains——!" Selim scratched his head again. "How should I know?"

"The Carpathians?"

"The Carpathians. Perhaps. Ah——"

Selim tapped his brow with a stubby forefinger.

"There was a name they spoke many times. It was