14 Biggles Goes To War (19 page)

The Count joined them, and they could tell by the gravity of his expression that Ginger's estimate of the contents of the portfolio had not been far wrong.

`Have you found evidence to incriminate General Bethstein, sir?' asked Ludwig.

Èvidence! Incriminate him!' The Count appeared to find difficulty in saying the words. '

That arch-scoundrel would have sold his country to her enemies. The agreement is here, signed and sealed. In return for Bethstein's assistance, Maltovia is to be a dependency of Lovitzna, with Bethstein as Governor-General. His signature, too, is on the deed, which I imagine was just on its way back to Shavros. The signature was what Zarovitch came for, no doubt. Klein is also a party to the plot. It seems that we may just be in time to save the situation. With Bethstein and Klein under lock and key with Zarovitch, and the story of their infamy broadcast to the nation, the whole country will be against them and their plans will come to nothing. But we must not stand talking here.'

`What are you going to do, sir?'

'I am going formally to arrest General Bethstein and Klein on a charge of high treason.'

The Count turned to Ginger. 'You had better show us the way,' he said.

'Very good, sir. Get the men in line and tell them to maintain absolute silence.'

A buzz of conversation ran through the troops when the Count told them of the general's defection, and some dark looks were thrown at the Lovitznian sitting under guard in the back of the car. Then order was restored, and in single file, with Ginger at the head, they set off towards the house. As they emerged from the forest he halted and pointed to the aeroplane, still waiting for its passenger. `How many men have we got, sir?' he asked the Count.

'Twenty, now; we started with twenty-four.'

'Then I suggest that you send two more to arrest the pilot of that aircraft. I don't suppose that Zarovitch flew it over himself. If they keep under cover of the trees they will probably take the pilot by surprise; he has been waiting a long time and is probably getting rather bored.'

The precaution taken, and the two men on their way, the main party resumed its march, and did not halt again until it stood in the shadow of the shrubbery. Ginger crept forward but was soon back.

'The light is still burning in the general's room,' he whispered, 'so presumably he and Klein are still there. The door is chained on the inside, I believe, and they will hardly be likely to open it if they see who is at the door. I think the situation calls for a little strategy, sir. It is not unlikely that they will be wondering why the aircraft has not taken off, and if that is so they would not be very astonished if Zarovitch returned. Could you imitate his voice, sir?'

'Yes, fairly well, I think,' answered the Count.

'Then I suggest that you conceal the men round the door and then go and knock on it. If Bethstein asks who is there, say Zarovitch. When the door is open we will rush it and take the general by surprise before he gets a chance to destroy any incriminating documents.'

'I think that is a good plan,' agreed the Count, and forthwith proceeded with the execution of it. It did not

occupy many seconds, and with the men in position, he knocked boldly on the front door.

'There was a brief delay. Then, 'Who is there?' came from the inside.

Ìt is I - Zarovitch,' replied the Count, in a fair imitation of the Lovitznian's voice.

A chain rattled and the door swung open.

Ginger led the rush and thrust his foot so that the door could not be closed again. 'Just a minute, General Bethstein,' he said evenly. 'There is somebody here to see you.'

`What is the meaning of this?' cried the general, with some agitation as he saw the soldiers. He began to back away.

Ginger whipped out his pistol. 'Stand still both of you,' he said in a hard voice, for he saw Klein standing behind the general.

Count Stanhauser moved forward. 'General Bethstein, you are under arrest,' he said coldly.

`What nonsense is this? Are you mad, Stanhauser?' exclaimed the general hoarsely.

`No. Rather have I come to my senses,' replied the Count calmly. 'I propose to search your study.' He called two soldiers by name and they took up positions on either side of the general. 'Don't move, Klein; I want you, too,' went on the Count.

Ginger whispered something in his ear and he turned back to the general. 'Where is Major Bigglesworth?' he asked tersely.

A faint, peculiar smile flitted across the general's face. `He is in safe keeping,' he said slowly.

`Where is he?'

`That foreigner has upset my plans,' said the general viciously. 'He will upset no more plans.'

Ginger felt his heart go cold. 'What do you mean?' he asked quickly.

The general smiled mockingly. 'At the barracks, before I came here, I had the satisfaction of sentencing him to death,' he said harshly. 'The sentence is to be carried out at dawn.'

The colour drained from Ginger's face. He turned to the Count. 'What is the time?' he asked in a high-pitched voice.

The Count looked at his watch. 'It is now - five o'clock.'

Ginger's brain reeled. He tried to think, but could not. 'What time does the sun rise?' he managed to get out.

'I can tell you that,' put in the general imperturbably. 'It rises at five-thirty.'

'Why, that's in - in - in half an hour,' stammered Ginger, feeling that the ground was rocking under his feet. Odd phrases flashed through his mind. Forty miles - half an hour -

forty miles—

'It is impossible to reach the barracks in half an hour,' said the Count, who seemed to be nearly as upset as Ginger. 'It will take you twenty minutes to get to the car, and no car in the world could get to Janovica in half an hour, much less ten minutes. It is forty-three miles.'

Ginger's face was ashen. 'Is there a telephone here?' he cried almost hysterically.

The general shook his head. 'No,' he said, 'there isn't a telephone between here and Janovica.'

Ginger moistened his lips. 'Good heavens!' he whispered. 'What are we going to do?'

Chapter 20

Backs to the Wall

Biggles spent most of the night sitting on the edge of the table. He was deadly tired, but he did not feel inclined to spend in sleep time which might be employed in thinking of some plan of escape. Algy sat on the bench, with his hands in his pockets and his feet on the table. He had examined the door and the walls a hundred times, and was satisfied that nothing short of a charge of dynamite would move them. He had also spent some time at the window, which could be reached by standing on the bench, but the bars were immovable, and even if it had been possible to remove them, the opening would still have been too small to get through.

No, I'm afraid there's nothing doing,' said Biggles swinging his legs gently. 'This is one of those things which no ordinary man can make allowances for. When you're dealing with a fellow like Bethstein, until you know just how unscrupulous he is, anything can happen. He is the sort of thug who would employ assassins, and even kings with all their guards sometimes fall victims. Admittedly, we've known all along that he was working for the other side - but there, what's the use of talking? We're here, and unless he was putting up a gigantic bluff, which I do not for one moment believe, he will have us put out of the way for good as soon as it gets light enough to see.'

`What is the time now, do you suppose?'

'I haven't the vaguest idea, but if you ask for my opinion I should say it is about five o'

clock; my watch has stopped - not that I could see it, anyway.'

'What time does it get light?'

`Somewhere about half-past five.'

`What the dickens is Ginger doing? I should have thought he would have got busy as soon as he saw the jam we were in.'

'We don't know for certain that he got away. Assuming that he did, I imagine he would go and tell Ludwig or the Count what had happened. They would make inquiries, of course, but I doubt if they would rush about all night for the simple reason that they could not possibly imagine our case being so desperate as it is. Bethstein probably realizes that, which is why he is going to have us bumped off before things start buzzing in the morning.'

`He'll find it difficult to explain his action,' observed Algy.

`What of it? That won't help us. He will say he is very sorry indeed, and all that sort of thing - and then what, as the Americans say? After all, he is a general, and as such must have a good deal of authority. Whether that permits him to carry out capital punishment is another matter, but he has only to say that he is as capable of making mistakes as any one else to end the argument. He may not even have to do that. If he is ready to strike, and I suspect he must be, the Count and Ludwig will have to look out for their own skins.

'

'Well, I call it a pretty raw deal,' yawned Algy, tilting the bench back. 'I always did hate the hour of dawn, ever since I was dragged out to fly before it was light in the old days in France. I shall hate it even more in future.'

`Well, you won't have to bear many more,' smiled Biggles.

must say I should like to know what Ginger is doing,' muttered Algy. 'Poor kid, he'll be at his wits' end.'

`Don't you believe it,' returned Biggles confidently. 'If you could see him at this moment I'll warrant he's buzzing about like a hornet that has been turfed out of its nest. If they bump us off there will be brick-ends flying in this part of the world until they catch him.'

Algy nodded moodily. 'Do we get breakfast, I wonder?'

`They forgot all about dinner, so I should think it is hardly likely.' Biggles turned an eye to the window. 'Is it my imagination or is the sky beginning to turn grey?' he asked.

Ìmagination,' replied Algy shortly, knowing quite well that it was not. 'What about bashing the fellows on the head when they come in to fetch us?' he suggested.

`What with?'

Algy looked around. 'No, there doesn't seem to be much in the way of weapons, does there?' he murmured. 'Pity. I should have liked to knock somebody's scalp off before the play begins - just to hand out a souvenir or two, if you get my meaning. Hark! Do I hear footsteps?'

`You do,' replied Biggles, getting off the table.

`Big, heavy footsteps, like soldiers' boots coming nearer.' Òh, shut up.'

`Well, you asked me. Here, I fancy, are the gentlemen in blue.'

A key grated in the lock, and a moment later the door swung open. A warder entered with a lantern. Vilmsky stood on the threshold, in full uniform, his smartness marred by the fact that he had not shaved. Behind him, in the corridor, could be seen a file of soldiers with rifles at the 'order'.

`Gentlemen, the time has come,' announced Vilmsky stiffly.

`So I gather,' replied Biggles easily.

Vilmsky stood aside. The soldiers tramped into the cell. Two held cords in their hands, and with these they proceeded to tie the prisoners' wrists. Biggles, knowing that resistance was futile, stood quite still, but Algy would have struggled had not several men held him by the arms and legs.

The operation completed, Vilmsky stepped forward with two handkerchiefs, folded bandage-wise, in his hand. `What are those for?' asked Biggles politely.

Ìt is customary to blindfold—'

`Forget it,' Biggles interrupted him curtly. 'I always like to see where I am going.'

Vilmsky bowed. 'As you wish,' he said.

The escort fell in on either side of the prisoners, and at a word of command the party moved forward. Down the corridor it marched, and through an open door into a grim-looking courtyard. Across this it proceeded, and came to a halt against a wall on the far side.

Biggles glanced at the sky. It was just turning pink with the first flush of dawn. 'If Ginger is going to do the rescue act, he hasn't much time left,' he observed calmly.

Algy said nothing. His face was pale.

The soldiers fell in line about twelve paces away. Vilmsky, curiously meticulous, dressed them from the right. Satisfied, he snapped an order, and the rifles came to the 'ready'.

It was at that moment that Biggles heard an aeroplane approaching. He knew by the sound of the engine that it was flying very low, and automatically he raised his eyes. The machine swept into view, and he felt a twinge of disappointment when he saw that it was a strange type.

don't mind being shot, but I hate standing here while that rat reads his morning correspondence.'

Ìt seems to be vastly interesting, whatever it is,' returned Biggles quietly. Àh, he's made up his mind. Now we shall know what it's all about.'

Vilmsky was, in fact, coming towards them, a dour expression on his face. 'You are fortunate,' he said shortly. Ì have an order from General Bethstein countermanding the sentence until he arrives. In the meanwhile, you will return to your cell.'

Again the escort lined up beside the prisoners, who were marched back to their room where the cords were taken from their wrists. This done, the soldiers withdrew. Vilmsky closed the door, and they were left alone.

`Who was it, do you think?' asked Algy breathlessly.

`Ginger.'

Ìmpossible.'

Ì'm not a betting man, but I'd wager what little money I've got to an old tyre that Ginger was flying that machine.'

`What makes you think that?'

Just a hunch, that's all.'

`Could you see the pilot's face?'

`No. I caught a glimpse of his head as he flashed over, but it was all smothered up with a helmet and goggles.'

Algy sat down heavily. 'What a time we're having,' he said wearily. 'I don't know about you, but I find this messing about worse than flying in a dog-fight with a jammed gun.'

`Yes, it is a bit harrowing,' admitted Biggles, resuming his seat on the table. 'Still, all we can do now is to wait for the next move.'

An anxious half-hour followed, during which time they conjectured on the identity of the mysterious airman.

Then footsteps were again heard approaching down the passage.

`Well, here come the boys in blue again,' smiled Biggles.

But this time he was mistaken. A tense moment while the key turned in the lock, and then the door was flung open violently. Ginger burst in. Behind him were the Count, Ludwig, and several soldiers in uniforms they had not previously seen.