A MODERN KNIGHT-ERRANT.

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXIV, Issue 19699, 27 July 1927, Page 18

A MODERN KNIGHT-ERRANT.

by roland pertwee.

CHAPTER XTV.—(Continued). sakko was torn by conflicting emotions and sudden resentments. The revolution had given him the right to bridge the gulf that her birth had cleft between them, but had it also given him power to make up to her in happiness for all she had been forced to sacrifice and forego? It was a question none but she could

answer, Now even the came had been shorn from the Royal Palace of Montressor. It •was the headquarters of the D.S.N. — the Direction Superieure National, and those ,who passed in and out of its great portals were plain men with little in their appearance to inspire wonder or attract interest. As Nikko stood watching, a commotion behind made him turn his head. A motor-car was approaching, bumping" P„t a snail's pace over the uneven cobbles. On either side of the car were mounted members of the Civil Guard. A knot of men in a doorway pulled off their hats as it -went by. From the attitude of respect shown by the men in the doorway it cleailj evident that it contained a person or ! persons of importance. The car drew nearer, until it was abreast of where Nikko stood. He caught jv glimpse of a small red and black flag fluttering from the radiator cap. One of the bodyguard, a huge, low browed Arnaut, detached himself l'rom the escort/- and rode up to Nikko, " Life and death," he cried, " rlo you not doff your hat to the man who has freed Sciriel ? Are you blind that you do not recognize the Liberator?" The liberator could only mean Foscam. .With quickened interest, Nikko uncovered and bowed ceremoniously. " I did not know, I have but yesterday arrived in Sciriel." " Then you would do well to teach yourself its ways, or you are likely to taste its justice." " Does justice here reward ignorance with punishment." He spoke loudly and clearly, and at his words the Arnaut s jaw fell in -amazement. "Life and death!" he exclaimed. But Nikko was looking over the fellow's shoulder at the car which had stopped. A huge man in the back seat was leaning forward, staring at him with eyes that were blank of expression. A voice said softly: '• Let him be brought here, Serge." Two more of the Civil Guard spurred to Nikko's side." Serge grasped the bridle of his horse and another seized the leading rein of the pack niule. Foscani was in profile when Nikko and his escort came to a halt beside the car. Save that his red, exquisitely chiselled mouth curled up at the corners, his face was expressionless and impassive. He was 'dressed from head to foot in black—a / black fur cap, a black close-fitting frock coat with a high collar of Persian lamb, black breeches and black top boots of Russian leather. But for the breadth of his shoulders his head would have seemed unnaturallv large. The lower part of his long bodv' was as slender as a girl's. A pair of small white hands rested upon his knees. There was about the man a nuriously feline tranquillity and poise. " We'have brought the fellow, Master," said the Arnaut. Foscani did not reply. He turned and looked at Nikko, his impassivity running into a smile, liquid as melting wax. " And who are you ?" ' Nikko gave his name and country. " From England. 3 That is interesting. I have often wished to visit England. Perhaps some day I may do so." "It will be a privilege we shall be swift to appreciate," Nikko said. Foscani's eyes closed ever so little. " Irony." he said. " Since I came into power I had forgotten the existence of irony." i Nikko saw that he had made a mistake in under-estimating the intuition of his interrogator. " I had no such thought," be began, Foscani laid a. finger to his lips, which Tjroke into their cold, smooth snnie. " Tss—tss. I would not havo any man afraid. Have I not given my life that men may think, speak and live freely ?" " That is a cause to which any man may be proud to give his life," said Nikko. " Quite so,"# said Foscani. Then after a pause. " And what has brought you to Sciriel, Nicholasse Cheyne V s " Love of adventure." " But the adventure is over, my friend, 1 or nearly." " It will end when the July sun hardens the marches of Plesna. Is that not so?" t Foscani's smile went—came and went ; again. " You»are not by chance a journalist." I " I read the posters/' said Nikko ! bluntly. " It is what they are for," said Foscani, and once more presented his profile. The Palace clocks struck a chime. " I will see you again. Nicholasse Cheyne. I must satisfy myself that your love of adventure does .'not bring you in contact with influences of the wrong kind. We will say at headquarters to-morrow at eleven." " My time is yours to command, sir," said Njkko. Foscani replied in English, spoken with a soft, sibilant drawl. " Everything here iss mine to command, oh, yess." Picking up a cane, he touched his chauffeur lightly on the shoulder. The car went on.

CH APTER XV. In his last talk with Nikko,'Mekla had given the name of the villa and f-treet. in Djevo where he had lived with his parents. But it was by a mere accident that Nikko, looking about him for lodgings for the night, espied the villa and recognised its name. Leaving his horse and tbo mule tethered to the railings, he walked through ari archway, across a small patio in which stood a waterless fountain and addressed himself to the knocker. The door was opened by ;j, very old man with such alacrity that Nikko was forced to the conclusion that keeping anybody waiting on the step was included in the endless chain of penal offences with which he was becoming familiar. The impression was heightened by the look of relief which; 011 seeing him, spread over the old man's features. " Your pardon, sir." said Nikko, "but I' was seeking a lodging and being informed that it was the custom to ask at any house, I—" " That is so," said the old man. with nervous hospitality. " I have rooms and to spare. Enter." " I have a horse and a mule." " There is no stable, but if you will lead them to the garden at-the rear of the house they will come to no harm and will, maybe, find a little grass to pull." So Nikko unhitched his traps and turned his beasts loose in a small plot of land. Having put the saddles and bridles under cover in a shed, he returned to the house where the old man waited for him. " My wife arid I," he said, " are about to begin supper. If, monsieur, I should say, comrade, will join us wc shall be honoured." The pathetic eagerness on the part of his host filled Nikko with a sense of shame. It was as if the old man had been shaken out of the habits of a .life-time and scared into an obedience unbecoming one of his years. Uncomfortably Nikko blurted" out- " I feel ashamed, sir, to put you to all this trouble and inconvenience, but—" The old man silenced him with a gesture. " There is no such thing as inconvenience," he said. " Monsieur, I fancy, must ve a stranger*" .. " Possibly not quite so much a stranger * s J' our name Mekla V-i "it is. a- ,

(COPTRIGHT.)

" Not long since I knew your son." "Merciful Lady! Then he lives." " He lives and is well." The old man waited for no more. With a thin, piping cry he hurried down a long passage and disappeared through a doorway, whence voices came, and presently, the sound of a woman in tears. Minutes passed before old Mekla returned. Approaching Nikko he took both his hands and wrung them. " You have been the bearer of news to his mother and myself that gives us courage to face whatever changes may be in store for us. We had thought our sou was dead. You will understand." And very soon Nikko was telling these two old people all he could about their ' son. With the knowledge that ho was alive, they were unawed by the news that he had enlisted in the Foreign Legion. They swelled with pride at Nikko's story of how he slapped the chops of the Walloon bully. " Had the force which is now at Plesna been banded before he was driven from the country," said his mother, "it is there Louis would be this day." "Mamon!" came warningly from her husband. "If you heard—if that were repeated." " It will not be repeated." said Nikko, " for, save for one reason, I am no better friend of this new Freedom than I believe you two to be." i " Trust no one," said the old man. " Outside the gates of this city is a wall beside which are buried tho bodies of those who trusted unwisely." " I have seen the place." said Nikko. Mekla mere put her hands together, turned her eyes toward heaven and cried aloud: " God's vengeance on Foscani, the wrecker of this country. May he be stricken down into the flames of hell." This outburst was succeeded by an unnatural composure. " I am neglecting my duties," siie said, " thre is still broth and to spare." But Nikko had no mind to eat them out of house and home; he lit a cigarette. " Tell me," he said, " this force at Plesna, of whom does it consist?" " A handful of unarmed patriots, Monsieur, a thousand maybe. Royalists who escaped the massacre and have banded themselves together in a place where at this season they are secure from attack." " But a force like that-, what can they hope to achieve ? The country is in the grip of revolution." " That is true. All the power is with Foscani. His are the arms, the transport, ammunition; he commands the one effective fighting force in the country." " Then it is all for nothing ?" said Nikko. " To die for loyalty, that is not for nothing." It was the woman who spoke. She went on: "To die for loyalty is to give the best that is in one. No cause is nobler than the cause which cannot succeed." "So I thought once, madame," said Nikko. " One hears much talk of Foscani's Rifles, but I have seen no soldiery." ■ "It is not a good advertisement : r or freedom for soldiers to- be too much in evidence," said Mekla. "He keeps them camped five miles awav, in the mountains—in the polji of Issoi, which lies below the great dam at Sarsenova. From time to time they receive orders and march north, south, east or west, wheresoever some difficulty may have arisen that calls for swift adjustment. It is easy to tell where Foscani's Rifles have been, by the charred ruins of houses—by numerous fresh graves—and sometimes by tho women one encounters who run screaming through empty streets as though pursued. Monsieur, of that force of five thousand rifles, not five per cent, are Scirien born. It is comprised of deserters from other countries—scourgings from the near east—Tartars, Turks, and Russians." After the meal Mekla produced a quarter bottle of wine, which he measured faithfully in three glasses. " With your consent, Monsieur, we will drink to oir king in exile and the Princess Natalia." Their gvest carried the class to his lips. Nikko was up betimes next morning, and, after a cup of coffee and a slice of bread, he walked out into the city. The summer was yet young. The white buildings of the city shone like gems against a sky of pale sapphire. He passed through the square and down a little boulevard which funnelled abruptly to a bridge across the gorge, which was no wider than the toss of a biscuit. On either side, built upon the very edges, were houses and public buildings and even a church. The cliff faces were stained and sullied with slops and drainage. Household refuse cast haphazard through open windows, was seized upon and squabbled over by innumerable ravens and jackdaws. At the sound of footsteps Nikko turned. A member of the Civil Guard was approaching. He paused on the bridge and cocked an eye at Nikko. Have you nothing to do that you stand idle at this hour of day?" " Nothing, save an interview with the Liborator at 11 o'clock." " Is that indeed so, comrade ?" " It is indeed," said Nikko. The fellow moved on, clearly disgruntled. To sooth an injured pride he pitched a handful of half-chewed bits of orange at an old man coming toward him from the direction of the town. Nikko spun round to avenge the affront and had covered half the distance between himself and the guard, when, in a flash, he recognised Baron Sidimir Vilasto. The old man was smiling. ; "I" thank you, Monsieur le Guard," he said in the voice that Nikko remembered so well. Picking off a piece of the orange that adhered to the sleeve of his coat, he popped it into his month and chewed it with relish. Nikko stopped in amazement. Was this the proud old aristocrat who seven years before had shown him tho path of duty ? The guard laughed and passed on and slowly over Vilasto's face came a change. With an exclamation of disgust lie spat the orange from his mouth and ground it into the roadway underfoot. "Baron," said Nikko. "Baron Vilasto." Vilasto instantly resumed his expression of simplicity. "Joy to you. sir," he said. "Baron," Nikko repeated, "don't you know met,?" Vilasto's pale eyes rested upon Nikko's face. "For my own part, I go to sit in the gardens yonder." Ho passed on, humming. Nikko waited for ten minutes, then set off in pursuit. Baron Vilasto was seated in a shady bower of rhododendrons in a public garden. Tho childlike expression had vanished and his face was tho face of the man Nikko had first mot on' that day of tragedy seven years before. "So you have come back. Nicholas •Cheyne," he spoke in English, "as you were bound to do." Nikko seized his hand and wrung it fiercely. "Tell me," he said, "she is well?" "As well as may be, Cheyne. She will bo glad to know you are here." "Will she V' "Rest assured she will." "Oh, God!" said Nikko. "Yes, I have expected you," Vilasto went on. "She, too, I think." "Did she ever speak " Nikko began. "Not after that day—but she always remembered. "When can I see her ?" "You cannot. There is always a guard. We occupy now a suite on the top floor of that house which you see among the trees. She takes her exercise upon the roof. On the lower floors there is a permanent guard." , (To be continued daily.)