CHAPTER XXX.
THE RUSE SUCCESSFUL.
Jack approached the man he took to be the superintendent. The latter looked up.
“Well, sir?” he demanded in German.
“I’m in luck,” said Jack to himself, but aloud he made reply:
“I am ordered to take the English prisoner, who was brought here this morning, before the king.”
“Your order,” said the superintendent, extending a hand.
“This is a hurry case,” said Jack quietly, “and His Majesty did not take time to write an order.”
“Well, you won’t get him without it,” said the superintendent.
“But I must have him at once,” said Jack firmly. “Either you shall deliver him to me, or I shall have to use force. My orders are to bring him before the king immediately. Shall I call my men?” and the lad took a step toward the door.
The physician looked at the lad keenly, and Jack returned his gaze unflinchingly. Finally the physician arose.
“Come, then,” he said; “but I would have you inform His Majesty that in the future I must insist upon a written order.”
Jack bowed coldly, and followed the physician from the room. Up two flights of stairs they went, and from there into a private room, fitted up luxuriously.
“You see,” the superintendent explained, “the prisoner has the best that we can offer. I hope that you will see fit to inform His Majesty that his orders are being obeyed.”
“I shall be glad to do so,” replied Jack.
He followed the physician to the bedside of the traitor. Hardy was sleeping, but the physician aroused him by shaking his arm.
“Your presence before the king is desired immediately,” he said.
Jack kept his face averted, for he feared that Hardy would recognize him in spite of his uniform.
“What does the king want?” questioned the traitor of the physician.
“I do not know, but this officer,” indicating Jack, “has been sent to conduct you to him.”
“All right I shall be ready immediately,” said Hardy.
He arose from the bed and slipped into his clothes, the physician assisting him, for his wounded arm was wrapped in a sling and gave him some difficulty. Then, without a word, he followed Jack from the room.
Now, as Jack had sought the hospital he had noted some of the localities he had passed while being led along by his own captor, so that he had a pretty fair idea of the direction in which he wanted to go. The one thing that he feared was that Hardy would recognize him before they got out of the city.
He kept his hand on the revolver he had taken from the Danish officer, whose clothes he had appropriated, for he was determined that Hardy would either be taken back to the Sylph alive or stay in Denmark dead.
“He is too dangerous to be allowed to escape scot free,” the lad told himself. “Besides, Lord Hastings’ last words were to bring him back dead or alive. I don’t think much of the job, but I’ll do it if necessary.”
As they walked along the street, Hardy tried to strike up a conversation. Jack walked slightly ahead of him, to prevent him from getting a good look at his face.
“What does the king want with me, do you suppose?” Hardy asked.
“I don’t know,” replied Jack gruffly.
“How about the other prisoner? Where is he?”
“Oh, he’s safe enough,” was Jack’s answer.
“You are not very communicative, are you?” demanded Hardy, stopping suddenly.
“Not very,” replied Jack, stopping also. “But come along. The king desires your presence immediately.”
“Seems to me I have heard your voice before,” said Hardy, resuming his walk. “You are not the officer who took me to the hospital, are you?”
“No,” said Jack.
“Then where have we met before?”
“Your imagination is running away with you,” said Jack.
“No, I know your voice. Hold on, while I get a look at you,” and he took Jack by the arm.
The boy freed his arm with a wrench.
“None of that,” he said, in his natural voice. “You come with me, or I’ll put a hole through you.”
Hardy stopped suddenly.
“I know you now!” he gasped.
“Yes, and you’ll know me a whole lot better if you don’t do as I tell you,” said Jack quietly. “Come on, now, move.”
Instead of obeying this command. Hardy suddenly let out a loud cry for help.
Instantly Jack whipped his revolver out.
“One more like that,” he said sternly, “and I’ll shoot you where you stand.”
“You wouldn’t have the nerve,” was the sneering response.
“Don’t try me,” said Jack quietly. “You are too dangerous to be running around loose. I would shoot you with as little compunction as I would a dog.”
Hardy was evidently impressed with Jack’s tone, for he resumed his walk slowly.
“What are you going to do with me?” he demanded.
“Take you back aboard the Sylph,” replied the lad. “And now don’t let me hear another sound out of you.”
But the one cry for help which Hardy had made was enough to cause trouble. For now, from around the corner came a crowd of men, rushing up to Jack and his prisoner.
“One word from you,” Jack warned Hardy, “and I’ll let you have it, no matter what happens to me. Don’t forget that.”
By this time the vanguard of the crowd was upon them.
“What’s the matter?” demanded a voice.
“Nothing,” replied Jack calmly. “I thought for a moment this prisoner was going to get away. He broke loose and ran down the street, but I caught him. I called for help because I feared he would get away.”
As he spoke he kept his revolver, which he grasped firmly in his pocket, pointed through the cloth full at his prisoner. Hardy saw that he was covered, and he realized that a miss at such close quarters was practically impossible. So he said nothing.
Jack’s explanation seemed to satisfy the crowd, for, after following for some distance and asking a few questions, it gradually drew off.
“You’ll never know how close you were to death,” Jack informed his prisoner. “I thought once you were going to speak, and my finger was on the trigger.”
“I saw it,” replied Hardy quietly. “I am not entirely a fool.”
“Remember it, then,” was Jack’s response.
For some moments they continued on their way in silence, and at last Hardy said:
“Listen here, Templeton! Isn’t there some way we can fix this thing up? I know what will happen to me if I am taken back to the Sylph. If this thing had gone through I would have been a rich man. I am sure I can explain things satisfactorily to my superiors. Now you let me go and I’ll see that you are put in a position that will make you independent—that you are made rich.”
“Silence, you hound!” exclaimed Jack angrily. “One more remark like that, and I shall be tempted to shoot you anyhow. I have half a mind to, as it is.”
“Oh, no, you won’t,” was Hardy’s reply. “I know your kind too well for that.”
“Be careful,” said Jack, in a low tone, “don’t drive me too far.”
The silence that followed was broken a few moments later by Hardy, who uttered an exclamation. Jack followed the traitor’s gaze, and broke into a cold sweat.
From the rear came a body of infantry at a run. Jack drew his revolver and shoved it up against Hardy’s side.
“We’ll do a little running ourselves,” he said quietly. “Hustle, now, and remember I am right behind you, and that I’ll put a bullet through you at the first false move.”
Hardy, as he himself had said, was no fool. He realized that Jack meant business, and, in spite of his wound, that must have pained him greatly, he started off at top speed, Jack at his heels.
They were well beyond the town now, and from the condition of the road Jack knew that they were going in the right direction. Also it was growing dark, and Jack knew that it was necessary for him to reach the place where he had left the Sylph’s boat by nightfall.
He was positive that his men would still be there, but he also knew that, in accordance with his orders, they would not remain a moment after the time he had set had passed. Consequently, he kept Hardy going at top speed.
From time to time the lad glanced over his head at his pursuers. He knew that he could outrun them, but he also knew that Hardy would soon diminish his speed if possible. Therefore he kept his revolver ready in his hand.
As he had expected, Hardy suddenly began to slow down.
“Run,” commanded Jack, “no stopping now.”
“But I can’t run any farther,” protested Hardy, panting.
“Can’t you?” replied Jack grimly. “Then maybe this will help you.”
His revolver spoke, and a bullet whistled by the traitor’s ear.
Hardy leaped forward with renewed energy, and for a few moments Jack found it hard to keep pace with him.
Now the two came in view of the shore, and Jack spurred his captive to renewed speed. The Danish soldiers were still some distance behind, but now a shot rang out.
“No stopping now!” yelled Jack, and, side by side, the two ran toward the little boat that still lay in waiting, the crew of which was advancing to meet them.
“Quick, men, into the boat,” panted Jack, as they came together. “We are pursued. We must get out of range quickly.”
The men needed no further word. All ran for the boat at top speed, waded out into the water, and climbed aboard. Jack, shoving Hardy ahead of him, was the last over the side.
Quickly he stepped to the steering wheel, and a moment later there was a muffled chug-chug, and the little craft began to slip through the water.
There was a cry of “Halt!” from the shore; but this went unheeded.
Came a volley of rifle shots.
“Duck, men,” cried Jack, suiting the action to the word.
One man was a trifle too late, and his arm fell useless by his side.
“Hurt much?” queried Jack anxiously.
“Not much, sir,” came the reply; “arm’s broken, I guess. That’s all, sir.”
Another volley came from the shore, but by this time the little craft had put such distance between itself and the shore that accurate shooting was impossible.
The speed of the little craft was increased, and it fairly skimmed over the water.
“They will be worried on the Sylph,” Jack explained. “They are sure to wait for us till morning, but I want to get back at the earliest possible moment.”
Hardly were these words out of the lad’s mouth when there was a new commotion on the boat. Jack’s troubles were not over yet.
“Prisoner overboard, sir!” came the cry from one of the sailors.
It was true. In the excitement of the moment Hardy had not been securely bound, and, taking advantage of a moment when his captors’ backs were turned, he had slipped quietly over the side, and was swimming desperately toward the shore.