CHAPTER XXVI AN ATTEMPT TO ASSASSINATE THE EMPEROR

Alan, Bob and Buck were nearly frantic with worry over the still-missing Ned by the time darkness closed in.

“If any harm has come to that boy,” vowed Buck fiercely, “I swear that I’ll leave no stone unturned until I find out the guilty parties and punish them!”

Bob bit his lip gloomily.

“We’re all hoping for the best, of course,” said he, “and really I believe that Ned can take care of himself all right.”

“A knife in the back--a blow from a dark doorway as he passed--any of a score of possibilities here,” muttered Buck.

Alan shuddered and made a desperate effort to change the conversation.

“What are we going to do to frustrate this plot on the Emperor’s life!” he asked. “If we do anything on that, it must be pretty soon, because time is flying, and I recall that Ned overheard them say at that other table that the meeting hour had been set for eleven o’clock.”

“That’s right,” chorused the other boys. “We mustn’t let our anxiety for Ned permit us to neglect the other thing. How shall we go about it?”

They missed their chum’s ready foresight in planning a course of action then, but, on the whole, did succeed in mapping out a pretty fair course of procedure. It was Bob Russell’s idea. He said:

“Ned stated that some of the servants in the chateau had been bribed into sympathy with the conspirators and will admit them secretly into the house. The man with the big black beard and he of the twisted mouth were to slip into the sleeping Emperor’s bedchamber through a window reached by a ladder against the wall. The Emperor was to be strangled.

“Now what I suggest is that we use the _Ocean Flyer_ to get there. Landing some distance away so as not to be heard from the chateau, we can then lie in wait hidden by the lawn shrubbery until the miscreants arrive. We can then pounce upon them and nip the murder right in the bud.”

“Would it not be better first to warn the inmates of the chateau of what is afoot?” asked Alan.

“No, that wouldn’t do at all, because neither we nor the Emperor know which of the attendants are faithful and which are treacherous. We’ll have to play this game single-handed, boys.”

So finally it was agreed to adopt the scheme as originally suggested by Bob. Their preparations for departure at that hour of the night were noted with great curiosity by the other aviators from the Austrian hangars, and Capt. von Schleinitz, the young officer who had driven to the hospital with them and told them about local conditions when they first arrived, said casually:

“You choose a peculiar hour for starting off again, gentlemen.”

“Yes,” Bob answered him, “we are only going on a small flight. Mr. Napier is not returned yet, so we will, of course, be back for him.”

“How I wish that I might be privileged to accompany you on one of your flights!”

Alan and Buck overheard his remark, and after excusing themselves for the seeming discourtesy, took Bob aside.

“Listen, Bob,” Alan whispered. “Why not take Captain von Schleinitz along with us on to-night’s expedition. He impresses me as a brave, good fellow, and the presence of a regular Austrian army officer aboard might prove of great help in several ways. Patrolling military aeroplanes might stop us with all sorts of questions once we get into the air.”

“I guess you’re right, Alan,” said Bob thoughtfully. “Let’s take him into our confidence then and explain the whole matter.”

This was accordingly done. The Austrian was horrified by the revelation of the plot and urged all possible haste. By ten-thirty the _Flyer’s_ engines were started and the short flight to Schoenbrunn was begun. No lights were shown aboard as the boys were anxious to avoid all unwelcome attentions.

No attempt was made to hinder their progress, and a landing was made almost noiselessly not far from the enclosed gardens of the chateau.

No one of the boys was willing to be left behind in charge of the airship while the others went forward into the adventure, yet it was imperative that someone should stay. After considerable heated discussion it was finally decided to draw lots. This method determined upon Buck as the one to remain behind, which he submitted to with much disappointment.

Alan, Bob and Captain von Schleinitz gripped his hand hard in a last good-bye, and slipped stealthily away into the darkness. Buck was left alone.

There was no moon visible that night. The sky lowered with the threat of storm, streamers of clouds scudded as if frightened before the strong wind. In a near-by marsh the frogs and crickets made melancholy music. Afar off to the right somewhere a dog howled mournfully.

* * * * *

Nine cloak-shrouded figures stood in close conference at the Spvodka turnpike, a bare ten minutes’ walk from the Chateau Schoenbrunn. Their manner was mysterious, sinister. They were impatiently waiting for someone.

Far down the road the purr of a motor could be heard, growing rapidly lower. Suddenly it ceased altogether and a tenth sepulchral figure stalked towards them through the gloom.

A subdued murmur of satisfaction greeted his approach.

“At last you are here, Count Polnych--”

A quick hand was clapped over the mouth of the big black-bearded man who spoke.

“Hush, you fool! No names here!”

The newcomer did not address the others, but with a finger to his lips enjoining silence, he led them towards where the high walls enclosing the grounds of the Chateau Schoenbrunn loomed up through the darkness.

Tiptoeing close to the huge iron gates, the leader of the band shoved gently. The ponderous gate swung inwards upon hinges that had been freshly greased to preclude all danger of squeaking. Just inside the gates a sentry lay securely bound and gagged on the damp grass. The chateau servants had earned their blood money.

Alan, Bob and von Schleinitz were crouched behind the thick shrubbery so near that they could have reached out and touched the stealthy intruders. Revolvers were held ready for instant use.

“Look!” whispered Bob. “The huge bearded man there is the one whom Buck trailed down. There is the thug with the twisted mouth. That fat little man shivering in the wind is the Grand Chancellor and--yes, by Jove! That fellow there who seems to be giving them directions is the very man whom Ned set out to follow. If he is here, where is poor Ned?”

The tall man whom the conspirators had addressed as “count” did very little talking. At a signal from him, Black-beard and Twisted Mouth slipped away around the corner of the chateau, and the remainder of the band slunk noiselessly over the grass to where the silent black pile of the building showed through the trees.

Alan, Bob and von Schleinitz skulked close at their heels, dodging from bush to tree-trunk, to shrub. It was harrowing work.

Once a stone crunched under Bob’s foot as he darted across a gravel path.

“What was that?”

The group of conspirators had whirled about in consternation, weapons shining dully in their hands. Only a deathly stillness rewarded their listening, however. Finally the little fat man, who was chancellor of the realm, laughed nervously.

“Bah! It was nothing! We are unstrung to-night,” he said in a low tone. “But to-morrow--”

Evil anticipation lit up the faces of his companions.

“Ready now!” whispered he whom they had called “count.”

The ten of them slipped through the unlocked door into the house where the aged Emperor slept all unconscious of the hands at his throat.