Beauvallet · Chapter 18 (2/2)
Along the passage they walked to the stairs at the end. The servant stood aside there for Sir Nicholas to pass. Sir Nicholas went down the stairs unhurriedly and crossed the hall at the bottom.
The front door was held open by a lackey, who stared to see his master coming so unconcernedly. He ventured to speak. “Señor—the lieutenant has just gone into the library in search of you. You have not heard, señor—the prisoner has escaped!”
Sir Nicholas raised the handkerchief to his lips and coughed. Through the cough he said in as fair an imitation of Don Cristobal’s voice as he could assume: “He is taken. The sergeant has my instructions.”
He went past the lackey as he spoke, but he knew that the man was surprised, perhaps even suspicious, and there was not a moment to be lost. A coach with plumes upon the roof and curtains hung at the sides stood waiting. He got in. “I am late. Drive fast.”
The coachman was agog with excitement. “Señor, the prisoner—”
“The prisoner is safe!” said Sir Nicholas. “Drive on!”
The coachman gathered up the reins; the horses’ hooves clattered on the paving-stones; the coach moved slowly forward under the arch towards the open gates.
The lackey at the door ran after. “Señor, the lieutenant—”
“To hell with the lieutenant!” said Sir Nicholas. “Drive on!”
The coach rumbled out of the gate and turned at right angles into the street.
The lieutenant, Cruza, hurrying out of the house, was just in time to see it disappear round the corner. “What—the Governor!” he cried.
The lackey rubbed his perplexed head. “Señor, the Governor would not wait. He sounded very hasty, and unlike himself.”
“The Governor would not wait?” Cruza stared uncomprehendingly.
There came a shout from within. “Stop that man! Stop that man! The Governor is here, gagged and bound! Stop that man!”
“Sangre de Dios, he is away!” cried the lieutenant, and went bounding out through the archway. “For your lives after that coach!” he shot at the sentries. “The prisoner is in it! Off with you!”
But when two labouring soldiers came up with the slow-moving coach there was no one inside. El Beauvallet had vanished.
