“Then we’ve made the trip here for nothing!”
“It would seem so.”
“What next?”
“That will depend on Eric,” she said. “We shall simply have to wait for him.”
Kingston’s eyes met hers in a look of fear. “What if we don’t hear from him?”
“Please!”
“I hate to say it,” he worried. “But it is a possibility. Do you know how we can reach Felix Black?”
“Only by the ordinary means of mail,” she said, “I have no names or addresses of the agents here. He entrusted all that to Eric.”
“Then we could be in a serious predicament,” the actor said.
Betsy shook her head. “I refuse to think Eric would walk into a trap.”
He gave her a wise look. “You two are in love, aren’t you? It has become important to both of you.”
She shrugged. “What if it has?”
“Nothing,” he said. “It just makes the situation all the more difficult for you.”
“We will not give up hope so easily,” she said. “We will have dinner, and perhaps he may arrive later.”
She went back to her own room and refreshed herself for going down to the evening meal. She had little appetite, but she sensed that Kingston was in a bad state of nerves and she wanted to keep up his courage. She was desperately afraid that something bad had happened to the man she had come to love, but she didn’t dare admit it.
She even thought of trying to find O’Meara and the old admiral again and enlist their aid. But she guessed they would have vanished by now. Even if she found that room over the shop, it would be empty. She would simply have to wait and hope.
Dinner proved something of an ordeal, with Kingston saying little. The actor was drinking a good deal, and she feared that he would be no use to her if they should have to set out in search of aid later in the evening. She debated reporting Eric to the authorities as a missing person but decided it was too soon for that.
By the time they left the dining room, George Frederick Kingston’s speech was incoherent, and he excused himself for a moment. A distraught Betsy had a shrewd suspicion that he would go straight to his room and fall asleep. He had allowed his fear to make him drink too much; now he was useless to both himself and her.
She stood forlornly in the magnificent lobby of the old hotel, wondering what to do next. Then the problem was solved for her.
The aged clerk left his desk to come to her with a note. He said, “This was left for you while you were at dinner.”
Hope rose within her, and she thanked him. As soon as he left her, she quickly opened the envelope to read, “Come at once! I shall be in the Cathedral of the Madonna!” There was no signature, but she could not doubt that it was Eric who had sent the message.
She put it in the pocket of her skirt and debated going up to Kingston and trying to rouse him. But she knew before making the attempt that it would be futile. She must answer Eric’s summons on her own. So she quickly got her cloak and went out and hired one of the carriages waiting outside the hotel entrance to take her to the cathedral.
The streets were quiet in the early evening, and the cathedral proved to be on a high hill overlooking a district of well-kept homes. She ordered the driver to wait for her and mounted the imposing steps of the huge stone cathedral.
Two little boys sat on the steps and gave her a defiant look as she passed them. They were ragged urchins and apparently used to playing on the steps. Several old women with shawls over their heads came out of the building, murmuring among themselves, having attended to their religious duties. She went on inside the huge building.
It had great Gothic ceilings which extended forever upward. Huge columns of stone supported the edifice. There were fine murals on the walls and windows of rich stained glass depicting scenes in the life of Christ. It was cool in the shadowed building and quiet. Deathly quiet! No priest was in sight, but in several of the pews there were people kneeling in silent prayer.
She felt like an interloper and wondered why Eric had chosen this place for their meeting. Perhaps because he felt it safe. She stared up at the altar with its gold decorations and white cloth. And then she decided to move along a side wing evidently added onto the large building to hold any overflow on special occasions. There was no view of the altar from this smaller side gallery, but the service in the main cathedral could be heard.
Making her way along in the still darker shadows of this wing, she found her heart beating wildly. She was extremely nervous. The long wait with no word from Eric had taken its toll, and now she was undergoing a further test of her drawn nerves. She moved slowly in the murky atmosphere of the silent gallery, wondering why Eric hadn’t shown himself.
Suddenly the whole thing took on a grotesque character in her mind. It was hard to imagine herself so far from England on this wild adventure. Was it really worthwhile? Could Felix Black be trusted? Or was she, as O’Meara had warned, apt to be double-crossed at the last moment. Would she find herself facing death in some dark alley when she was no longer useful to the old secret agent?
Without warning a figure stepped out of the shadows. It was the Indian, Raj Singh. He said, “So you received my message after all.”
“Yes. How fortuitous to meet you again. But I thought the message was from Major Walters,” she said in a hushed, tense voice.
“I fear not,” the Indian said.
“What is happening?”
The Indian drew her aside into the shadows where he had been standing unseen and told her, “I have bad news for you.”
“What?” she said, fear tightening her throat.
“Major Walters has been captured by Valmy’s men. They are holding him hostage.”
“Where?”
“I do not know,” Raj Singh said. “He was to keep a rendezvous with me. They sent a false messenger to him, and the messenger, pretending to be from me, led him into a trap.”
“How do you know all this and yet not know where he is?”
“My informant lost track of them. But this is known. He was taken out of the city.”
“Will they harm him?”
The Indian gave her a strange look. “They may very well kill him!”
“Oh no!” she protested.
“All that will guarantee his life is their hope of gaining some information they do not have from him.”
“He can surely deal with them.”
“He is clever,” Raj Singh agreed. “But so are they. Valmy is daily getting closer to beginning his revolution. He will let nothing stand in his way now.”
“The hope then is that Major Walters can delude his captors into thinking he has secret information important to them.”
“Yes.”
“What can we do to help him?”
“I have been promised word of where he is,” the Indian said. “If I get this news, I will take a party to rescue him.”
“When will you know?”
“Later tonight,” he said. “I wanted you to be aware of what is going on. If anything happens to the major or myself, you must notify Felix Black.”
“Nothing must happen to you!” she said brokenly.
“We will see,” the Indian said. “If all goes well, I should know by midnight.”
“What will I do?” she asked.
“Go out into the hotel gardens at midnight,” he said. “Either I will arrive with Major Walters or I will have some further information about him.”
“I’ll be there,” she promised. “You must know that we had been led here on a wild, useless chase. Napoleon is no longer here.”
“I’m aware of that,” the Indian said. “I have been here for some days — spending most of my time trying to evade the traps which Valmy’s men have set for me.”
“They really fear us then?”
Raj Singh nodded. “They know if we are able to talk to the emperor, we will be able to dissuade him from Valmy’s wild plan.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if that is possible.”
“It is only the start. We are not alone in this. Our leader is a wise man. He will succeed and so will we.”
“I only hope so.”
“Do not lose courage,” the Indian said. “Now return to the hotel. Wait there and be prepared to meet me in the garden at midnight.”
“You may count on me,” she said.
“Now go,” he told her. “We must not leave the cathedral together. Valmy’s men are waiting for me. But it is to be hoped that they do not know about you yet. So you will seem to be just another visitor to the cathedral. They will let you pass.”
“What about you?”
“I know of a secret exit which I will use,” he said. “I came by that way safely. Do not despair. We may have the major free by midnight.”
It was a small hope but the only one offered her. She left the Indian still standing in the shadows and made her way back to the entrance of the cathedral. When she stepped out, dusk was falling and she saw two young men standing on the steps where the boys had been previously. They stared at her with open curiosity. Then one of them made some sort of comment about her and the other laughed.
Pretending not to see or hear them she hurried down to the carriage which still waited for her and returned to the hotel. All during the drive back she was tortured by the news that Eric was now a prisoner of their enemy. She had feared it when he’d been so long delayed in returning. Now there was no doubt of it.
Raj Singh was an agent with superior talents and training. If anyone could rescue the man she loved, it would be the Indian. She dare not let herself think that he could fail. In the meanwhile all she could do was wait and pray that Eric would arrive at midnight.
She debated telling Kingston about the newest development and then decided against doing this. The old actor was probably still in a drunken sleep, and he might prove a hindrance rather than a help. He was plainly fearful of what had happened to Eric and in turn what might happen to them. Better to let him rest until she knew more.
The hours until midnight she spent restlessly in her room. She wondered why Raj Singh had suggested they meet in the garden rather than his coming openly into the hotel and on to her room. But that would mean he would run the risk of being seen meeting her.
He would actually be leading their enemies to her door, and he would never allow that. So a secret meeting in the garden was reasonable. When it was a few minutes before midnight, she put on her cloak and left her room. Most people in the ancient hostelry were asleep by this hour. The lobby was deserted except for the withered clerk who dozed on the stool by the desk.
She quietly made her way out into the warm dark night and walked swiftly in the direction of the gardens in the rear of the sprawling building. It was equally quiet out there, and the night was cloudy. She followed a gravel path which led between rows of decorative trees neatly set out at intervals on either side of the path.
She had been out there in the daytime and been impressed by the orderliness and beauty of the gardens. Now they were silent, dark, and except for the scent of the flowers, exceedingly menacing. She was expecting to see Eric or at the very least have some encouraging word from him. But she did not feel hopeful. For some dreadful reason the atmosphere of the gardens was poisoned by fear.
Betsy shuddered, and not from the chill but from her growing terror. She began to wonder if she had been wise in agreeing to the rendezvous, if she would really meet Eric there? She had great trust in Raj Singh or she would not have submitted to his idea to meet him in this dark place. Hesitating in the middle of the path, she looked about her for some sign of him.
After a moment she saw him come out from behind the trees. She could see his turban and the flowing robe defined against the night. He came walking toward her stiffly, in an almost mechanical manner which caused her to wonder.
She ran toward him and said, “What is the word?”
Raj Singh looked down at her, his bronzed face stony of expression, and his lips moved; but no sound came out. Then, before she could question him again, he slumped down on the gravel walk at her feet.
She knelt and frantically took hold of him. “What is the matter?” she said, shaking him in an effort to rouse him.
Then she saw the knife sticking in his back and hastily let him go. She knelt there stunned. The Indian had somehow managed to keep his appointment with her, no doubt in an effort to warn her, even though he’d suffered this fatal wound.
She fought her terror and tried to sort out her thoughts. Getting up, she decided to run back to the hotel and summon help in the hope there might still be some life in Raj Singh — though she guessed the odds were all against it.
She gave his prostrate body a final look and then started to run back to rouse the hotel clerk. She’d gone only a few yards when two other figures sprang out of the shadows and blocked her way!
“No!” she screamed, and she turned to run in the opposite direction.
But it was a futile effort! They were on her almost at once. She fell as one of them grabbed her and when she tried to struggle against them, a cloth was placed over her mouth and nose, suffocating her. She made a feeble last attempt to free herself and then passed out.
When she came to, she was stretched out in the back of an open wagon, her wrists and ankles bound and a gag over her mouth. She moaned slightly as the wagon went over some bumps in the road and she was tossed about. She felt cold and ill. Gradually it came back to her!
Raj Singh dead on the path in the gardens and she attacked and captured by some unknowns. They would have to be agents of Valmy. The same ones no doubt who had earlier managed to make Eric a hostage. Perhaps they would be reunited as captives. That at least would be something.
She did not dare to speculate on what her fate might be or where she was being taken. Judging by the road, they were somewhere outside the city. The dust from the dry dirt road rose with the movement of the wheels and made it that much more unpleasant for her.
It was what she might have expected. She’d been told that Naples was alive with Valmy’s agents. But because she had never met the mysterious leader of the latest Napoleonic adventure, she had hardly taken the warnings seriously enough. Now it was clear this was not a game that was being played; this was a business of life and death!