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

as the road was still clear, he listened.

"You're Renwick—the Englishman?" he whispered hoarsely.

"I am."

"And Herr Hauptmann Goritz?"

"He is dead," replied Renwick.

"Ach—danke," said the man. "It is well then—you too—soon——"

He nodded forward, toppled sideways and lay still.

The situation was desperate, and yet as Renwick thought calmly, he gained courage. With Marishka upon one side and him on the other armed with the joists, it would be difficult for the attackers to get a lodgment for their bridges, for the stone outside the gate was quite smooth, and little effort would be required to push their timbers down. Both Strohmeyer and Karl had lost their lives by exposing themselves unnecessarily. But with the two joists, both sides of the gate could be commanded. In a moment, creeping under the protection of the wall, Marishka joined him, bringing two rifles.

"Are they coming?" she asked.

"Not yet. But they will soon."

He explained his plan more fully, then bade her go back for another rifle, ammunition; and return in the protection of the opposite wall to the post opposite.

"They can do nothing unless they bring artillery," he said confidently. "Don't expose yourself or look out, but if a plank comes over, push it down."

She smiled and slipped away into the darkness, and Renwick returned to his loophole. The sky above was getting lighter, and a glance up the mountain side to his left showed it already in clear profile against the lightening east, which announced the coming of the dawn. And with the dawn—light. Was this what the attackers were waiting for?

He saw the gray figure of Marishka creep along the opposite wall, and in a moment she was there, not ten feet away at her post, crouched in safety and waiting.

"On no account look through the loophole," he ordered. "As the light grows, there will be men to shoot at them. Keep under cover. Understand?"

She only laughed hysterically.

In a moment, as the light grew, he warned her that they were coming again.

"Keep in," he cried. "Don't try to look at the end of the——"

The warning came just in time, for a fusillade of bullets swept the gate and they heard the sounds of many men's voices as they came on the run. Another fusillade which sent dust and fragments of stone flying all about them! Then a timber crashed across, but before it settled into place the two joists had pushed it off the smooth landing. At the same time another volley was fired which would have surely found a mark if Renwick had exposed himself, but Marishka matched her action to Renwick's, crouching low, safe from observation, pole in hand, eagerly watching her half of the gate.

Another timber—which fell harmlessly and crashed down into the gorge, and another volley—alike harmless to the defenders. High hopes rose in Renwick. They could do nothing. Opposite him Marishka, forgetting all her fears, had caught the contagion of successful resistance and crouched, her jaws set, eyes sparkling, her slender hands grasping the rough timber, undaunted and resolute.

"Keep under cover——" he shouted, as another timber came across.

This one was better cast and lodged squarely upon the stone lintel. They both shoved at its end, but a man's weight already upon it made their task difficult.

"It is on my side. Push, Marishka!"

He aimed his automatic past the edge of the gatepost and shot the man—an Austrian soldier—just as he sprang for the landing. He fell upon the stone, hung to the timber a moment, and fell. Renwick sprang further out and emptied his clip at the next man, who gave a cry and dropped. Renwick felt a stinging blow on his left arm, but before another man began to cross Marishka managed to shove the timber clear and it fell into the abyss below.

They were safe for the moment. He looked at Marishka in the gathering light. She was pale as death, but she did not show fear.

"All right?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes—yes," she gasped, "and you?"

"Never better."

His arm burned like a live coal, but the madness of battle was in his blood and he did not care—so long as Marishka did not know of his injury. The firing had ceased for the moment, as he crawled up and peered through the loophole.

"We've beaten them, Marishka," he cried triumphantly. "They've gone back—I see no timbers. They're doing something. I can see quite plainly now—fastening a handkerchief to the muzzle of a rifle." And as she rose to look, "Don't expose yourself. It may be a trick. For God's sake keep down."

He picked up the magazine rifle beside him and thrust it through the loophole, covering the two men who were advancing to the brink of the abyss. In the pale light he marked the figure of Windt quite clearly. The other man wore the uniform of an officer of Austrian infantry. And now he heard the voice of the officer raised in parley.

"Schloss Szolnok—a truce!"

For reply Renwick thrust the muzzle of his rifle further through the loophole.

"In the name of the Emperor of Austria, I command you to deliver Herr Hauptmann Leo Goritz."

Renwick laughed madly.

"I regret that that is impossible."

"I beg that you will listen to reason. Austrian troops are all about you. You cannot resist by daylight. If you will deliver the person of Herr Hauptmann Goritz and Countess Strahni, we will leave you in peace."

Renwick paused. Far below in the valley to his right, a new sound broke the stillness of the early morning—rifle-fire close at hand, rapid volleys, and then a scattering of shots which echoed with a new significance up the mountain side. He peered through one of the crenelations of the rampart beside him and could just see through the morning mists the moving mass of rushing men,—horses—guns in mad confusion.

"Well, what is your reply?" came the voice of the Austrian officer.

Renwick laughed again.

"Why should you leave us in peace if you can take the drawbridge?" he shouted.

"Hauptmann Goritz is wanted on the charge of murder. I give you this chance. Will you take it?"

"I regret that it is impossible," replied Renwick.

"Why?"

"Because Herr Hauptmann Goritz is dead."

"Dead? What assurances can I have that this is the truth?"

"You have only to look at the foot of the cliff below."

The two men consulted for a moment and then Herr Windt's voice was heard. "Is Countess Strahni there?"

"Yes—and quite safe."

"And who are you?"

"My name is Hugh Renwick, Herr Windt——"

"Renwick—the Englishman——" he heard him gasp.

"Precisely. And if you're going to take this gate, you'd better be in a hurry about it—for the Russians are approaching."

"Then you refuse?"

"Positively."

The Austrian officer saluted, and the two men marched up the causeway. Marishka, on the other side of the gate, had started up and was regarding him anxiously.

"What you say, Hugh—it can't be that——"

"It's true, dear," he almost shouted. "The Russians. They're coming below there in the valley. I have just seen. The Austrians are in full retreat. The army has been retreating all night, and we thought there were reënforcements. If we can hold out a short while longer, we will be safe. Are you frightened?"

"No. Will they come again, you think?"

"Yes. They'll hardly give up so easily. But keep down, Marishka, further—in the corner. You can see as well. Ah! I wasn't mistaken. Here they come!"

Into the squad of Austrian soldiers advancing Renwick emptied the magazine of his repeating rifle, and took up the other. Two men fell and the remainder paused, only to be brought on by the Austrian officer who led them, sword in hand. Renwick could have shot him easily, but he held his fire and as the mass of men came on he saw them raise their rifles to their shoulders.

"Keep down!" he shouted to Marishka, "they're going to——"

Dust and mortar flew from the ancient gate and behind in the castle, windows crashed.

"You are safe?" he shouted.

"Yes," her voice replied.

"Now watch the gateway."

A plank came over, but profiting by their earlier experience, they shoved it off before it came to rest. Another, a longer one, and another, both of which found lodgment squarely between the gate posts. Renwick sprang to the loophole; but the volley that followed spattered harmlessly around him.

He was a good shot with a rifle, and aimed deliberately, dropping the first man that put his foot on the hazardous bridge. Gasping with her exertions Marishka pushed the shorter timber over, but the longer one jammed hopelessly against the gate post.

"Hugh," she cried, "we are lost."

But a strange thing happened then. For as the second man approached the bridge and had even put one foot upon it, a shrill call rang out at the other end of the causeway.

"The retreat!" the officer shouted. "To the rear——"

The look of relief upon the face of the brave fellow who was venturing death upon the precarious timber was reflected in Renwick's own heart, for he spared the man who, with a startled glance over his shoulder, presently caught up with the rapidly vanishing Windt. Renwick rushed out and lifting the dangerous timber hurled it down into the gorge.

Then he caught Marishka by the waist and lifted her.

"We're safe, dear—they've gone——" he cried.

She turned one look up at him and then, slowly closing her eyes, sank back helpless in his arms.

"Marishka! It has been too much——"

The blood flowed from a slight cut upon her cheek where she had been struck by a piece of flying stone, but he saw that it was not deep. He laid her gently upon the flagging, and ran to the Hall for water. There he found Ena, crouched in a corner, more dead than alive. But he commanded her to come and bring water and brandy, and she obeyed.

Marishka had only fainted and the brandy soon restored her.

"They've gone?" she asked of him.

"Yes, dear. We're quite safe. Listen. The Russians are driving them down the valley."

He washed the wound in her cheek tenderly.

"It will not scar you, Marishka," he smiled. "But if it does—an honorable scar such as no woman of Austria wears."

She touched it with her fingers and smiled.

"I did not even know——"

And then she saw the blood at his shoulder.

"You're hurt?"

"Only a scratch. It's nothing."

But weak as she was she tore away the sleeve of his shirt, and made him bathe and bind it with linen from her skirt.

"Will the Russians come here, you think?" she asked.

He smiled.

"If they don't come to us," he said soberly, "we will go to them."

She smiled.

"'And your people shall be my people ... '" she murmured softly.

Galenski, Colonel of Russian cavalry, sat on his horse on a slight eminence beside the road which descended from Dukla Pass into the valley beyond, watching through a pair of field glasses the ramparts of an ancient castle perched upon a crag.

Beside him his regiment streamed down the hill at a hand gallop, its gray coats flapping, as it spread out fanwise in the meadow below, its lances lightly poised in pursuit of the fleeing Austrians. As a company captain passed he called out a name, and the officer, with a word to his lieutenant, galloped up and saluted.

"Is not that Schloss Szolnok, Captain Kotchukoff?"

"Yes, sir. You remember—the affair of Baron Neudeck."

"Of course. I have been watching it, as we came down the road. Fighting has been going on there for an hour or more."

"Fighting?"

"Yes. I don't understand. The Austrians were attacking it. I am certain for I clearly made out the kepi of the infantry."

"That is strange."

"Is it possible that some of our advance posts could have occupied it?"

"I should say that that was impossible."

"We must investigate. Detach your company from the command and bring your men up the road yonder. I will join you."

Captain Kotchukoff saluted, wheeled his horse and galloped at full speed down the road into the meadow, while Colonel Galenski trotted slowly down the hill until he found a ford in the stream, and then slowly rode up the hill beyond.

"It is very strange," he muttered.

As he reached the road above, the company of Captain Kotchukoff came riding up, but he gave the command to