Dr. Mabuse, master of mystery a novel
frantically round the house as if about to rush pell-mell into the
Lake. The inspector, forgetting all caution in the excitement and
disappointment of the moment, sprang forward after it, and saw that
it actually did disappear in the water. Like a sinister amphibian it
leaped over the low wall, thundered down the wooden footway and sprang
into the Lake.
Then at last he blew his whistle, and the posse of constables came
running from all directions, knocking up against each other.
“To the shore!” shouted the sergeant.
There was no car to be seen anywhere. About two hundred yards from the
shore the engines of a motor-boat could be heard in the darkness. They
searched beneath the roadway, up and down the lake-side, dazed and
disappointed, but in vain.
Then at last the inspector realized what must have happened. The
unceasing efforts, strain and hopes of an entire month had come to
nought. His prize capture had escaped him. He was so absolutely
disheartened by this maddening thought that he unconsciously pressed to
his temples the revolver that he held ready-cocked in his hand, as if
his very life must be forfeit through the failure of his enterprise. A
moment later he lowered the revolver, and the ball, singeing his hair,
fell harmless into the night. Upon the Lake a light shone out. Further
on, another. The shot had aroused the attention of the spy-boats.
Not till then did the inspector remember these allies, whom in his
first access of despair he had completely forgotten. “Bring Morse
lamps!” he cried. How _could_ he have overlooked the motor-boats?
Immediately flashes were sent to the two boats: “The fugitives have
escaped, and are on a motor-boat on the lake.”
“All right,” was flashed back, and a few minutes later powerful
searchlights were directed towards the lake. It was not long before
they had located the escaping boat. But they had also warned it, for at
that very moment it was about to run into them.
* * * * *
Mabuse and George were at once aware of their danger. The two
searchlights advancing on them seemed like the open jaws of a monster
approaching to devour them. George steered to larboard, and the boat
settled its course in a new direction. The water streamed over the
rudder and gleamed about them, frothing in the darkness. “There is only
one way,” said Mabuse in a low voice, “the Rhine estuary.”
He considered the matter coolly and boldly. He was once more in a
situation quite familiar to him, because he had lived through and
overcome it countless times in imagination. On the German shore,
whither they could easily return, everyone would be on the lookout for
them. On the Austrian shore there was only Bregenz, shown up clearly
by the searchlights. Between these two regions there was a large and
very sparsely inhabited territory around the Rhine estuary. In twenty
minutes they could reach land and then make their choice between
Switzerland and Austria. If they were lucky enough to run their vehicle
on to land again as easily as they had run it into the water, they
would have sufficient start to make their escape certain.
One of the pursuing boats, however, lay right out in the lake. It
seemed to guess at the fugitives’ intentions, for it did not follow
them in a direct line, but remained to starboard, keeping abreast of
them near the Swiss shore, as if awaiting a favourable opportunity to
intercept them.
Perhaps it only wanted to keep between them and Switzerland. The
searchlights from both boats met above Mabuse’s. The first faint traces
of daylight were already appearing. Firing was heard behind them. One
of the boats now followed in their wake, but at a little distance to
the rear. The two pursuing boats exchanged Morse signals with each
other.
For a time George steered a zigzag course, the vehicle swaying hither
and thither with the constantly changing displacement of the rudder.
George wanted to make it appear that he was trying to break through to
the Swiss shore, but he, too, was excited by the searchlights. He did
not succeed in getting out of their glare for more than a few moments
at a time. The boat which was astern only went so slowly now because it
was solely concerned with keeping them under view and cutting off their
retreat to the German shore. The Morse signals used were secret ones,
and neither Mabuse nor George could make them out although, through
their frequent trips by water, they were fairly well acquainted with
such things.
Suddenly the boat to the starboard side of them extinguished its
searchlight. Above the infernal noise made by their own motor they
could hear the engine of this boat ahead, its sound growing shriller
and nearer. Their own motor was exerting its utmost pressure. The
shooting had now ceased, and above the sounds made by their boat
another noise could be heard. Mabuse bent forward towards it, listening
with all his ears, the searchlight falling full upon him. He still
wore the police uniform which had made his escape possible.
At first the Countess had lain in the boat half-conscious. The shots,
the droning of the engines, the haste and excitement of the men
beside her, had gradually awakened her, and she began to grasp what
was happening. She, too, heard, above the throbbing of the engines,
a second sound. She sat up, holding her head over the side whence it
came, and listened intently.
“What is that?” she asked Mabuse, who was standing near, planted firmly
on the deck with his back to the engine and appearing entirely at
ease. He could be clearly seen in the searchlight with his hand on the
gunwale, listening intently.
“Nothing!” he hissed; “be quiet!”
“What is it?” she asked again in a sharper tone, and there was
something in the sound of her voice that had not been heard for a
long time. It seemed as if a stone that had long lain at her heart
were now being dissolved into a mass of pulp. To this feeling, still
but half-conscious, she yielded herself more and more. By degrees she
appeared to realize what was happening within her. Then, rising and
standing in front of Mabuse, she suddenly cried out, “Now, at last....”
The sounds of the water and the night stole over her like a joy beyond
bound or measure. Eagerly she absorbed with heart and mind the light,
sweet rustle they made, and she perceived that every moment they became
more pronounced. At last she understood. The pursuer was advancing
rapidly upon them, and came ever nearer....
“What do you mean by that ‘at last’?” asked Mabuse roughly. “Sit down
and keep quiet!”
“What is that sound we hear?” she said in a ringing voice.
“Death--perhaps!” answered Mabuse calmly.
“For _you_!” cried the woman facing him, above the swirling of the
waters. “I shall be able to shake you off at last. I shall be saved
from you. The werwolf will be caught, and your power over me and over
others be at an end!”
“I will soon show you that,” said Mabuse, advancing and bending over
her; and then what happened came so quickly that she could scarcely
distinguish the movements.
“George!” called Mabuse, the one word only, and then he unfastened
the police uniform which concealed his clothing and threw it towards
George, who at once donned it and stood near the Countess, exposing
himself to the searchlight, while Mabuse took his place at the wheel.
They heard a shout close to them. “Halt!” cried a voice from out the
sounds her eager ears had been absorbing. “Halt!” A shot whizzed in the
air, and an echo resounded.
George fired in return. The boat gave an upward lurch and then suddenly
two high dams enclosed it. Where was the lake? Where was the wide
expanse of night? There was a rustling sound, and a beating against the
spring tides of the Rhine. The searchlight had disappeared, and a soft,
warm mist covered the stream and the dams. They were smooth as railway
lines, and a bridge lay diagonally above them. The throbbing of the
engine resounded from its arched vault.
Then a sudden movement flung the Countess to the ground. The boat
sprang up into the air with a loud report, but the woman was caught
as she fell; she could feel herself lifted; someone held her, and ran
swiftly with her; her cries were stifled, and a red mist swam before
her eyes.
* * * * *
George lay on the shore, one arm broken. With the sound one he felt for
the police helmet and crammed it down on his head. The fall had stunned
him slightly, but he could have escaped; nevertheless, he lay still.
It was not long before he saw two revolvers levelled at him. Two
electric torches glared before his eyes. “We’ve got the one in
uniform!” said a voice. George kept quite quiet. He was carried from
the land into a boat and fettered to a thwart. The engine started, and
the boat drove across the lake back to Schachen.
The day was dawning when George reached the wooden landing-stage once
more. They took him into the villa and locked him into a room with
barred windows, out of which he could not escape, even had two men not
been in charge of him.
The inspector said to himself, “Thank God, we have caught him at last,
and in his police uniform too! thank God!”
* * * * *
At five o’clock that morning Wenk left Munich in a hydroplane, landing
two hours later at Schachen. He flew up the stairs of the Villa Elise
to reach the room where the imprisoned robber-king was waiting ...
waiting for _him_, the conqueror!
“Here is Dr. Mabuse,” called out the inspector, advancing towards him.
“We have him safe at last, thank God!”
Wenk, jubilant, victorious, and intoxicated with success, entered the
room and saw the man in police uniform fast bound to his chair.
“Where is he?” he asked.
“There ... on that chair!”
Wenk looked at the man more closely. He knew it already: his quarry had
escaped! Back into the endless, the dark and empty night, everything
fell once more, and at first he could neither hear nor speak a word.
Suddenly the inspector said, “But that is Poldringer, the man we’ve
been watching all these weeks!”
“Yes, that is Poldringer,” answered Wenk heavily. Mabuse had escaped.
XIX
Mabuse hastily carried the insensible woman from the bank of the Rhine
channel to the nearest house. It was that of an osier-binder.
“We have had an accident,” said Mabuse, and then seated himself at the
window to watch the approach.
When an hour had gone by thus, and the Countess opened her eyes again,
Mabuse noticed that she started on recognizing him and turned away,
overcome with dread. He went hastily towards her and, stooping down, he
whispered, “We are saved! We are irrevocably bound together!”
The whispered words impressed her with a certain sense of comfort and
security. She no longer withstood him, and soon sat up, the peasant’s
wife promising to look after her.
Mabuse sought for the nearest village on the map. Then he went thither,
in security, knowing that he was not being followed. George had
remained as the victim of the pursuer’s vengeance, and he was saved.
The other’s fate was due to the little trick of the police uniform.
The village was not more than twenty minutes’ distance, and in an inn
he found a telephone. He ordered coffee, and then rang up Zürich. In
half an hour’s time the call came through, and asking who was there, he
was answered, “Dr. Ebenhügel, Zürich.”
“Has Spoerri arrived?” he inquired.
“Spoerri has just come: he is still here;” and Spoerri rushed to the
telephone.
“Spoerri, I’ve had a misfortune. George is taken, but we have escaped.
Bring the car here at once, and put in a travelling dress and coat for
my wife. I shall expect you at 2 p.m. at the Au railway-station in the
Rhine Valley.”
“Very good, sir,” replied Spoerri.