The Golden Bough

"Keep down, Tanya," he cried triumphantly in the voice that she knew so well. "It's I-Philippe."

She obeyed him-in a fascination of surprise and terror… Saw Zoya Rochal clamber from one boat to the other and rise… Heard the reports of firearms … saw Zoya's eyes widen, saw her clutch at her breast and stumbling, fall just behind Philippe who had run aft toward Hochwald, firing as he went.

Tanya hid her face in her hands for a second, then rose, watching the two men swaying in a deadly embrace. There was another shot from Hochwald's weapon, muffled against the body of Philippe, but he still struck and struggled, lifting Hochwald clear of the gunwale. As Tanya ran aft, Rowland fell half over the side, while Hochwald hung a moment, his face ghastly, feebly gripping for a hold and then disappeared in the green swirl of water astern.

Tanya caught at Rowland's shoulder and hauled him back into the boat and he sank into her arms, the smile still on his lips … a smile that now twitched painfully … for upon his soaking shirt above the breast was a dark spot-spreading rapidly.

"Tanya," he was muttering, "cast off-other boat-steer, Swiss Patrol-" And then his head fell forward and he was silent.

She gazed at him in anguish but laid him gently down and ran quickly forward. The boats were thrashing together dangerously and the other was half full of water. With difficulty she cast off the line … Zoya lay upon it … but at last she got it free and ran back to Philippe, who was lying where she had laid him, the water in the cockpit washing over him. She sat beside the tiller, raising his head in her lap, trying with her handkerchief to staunch the flow of blood from his wound. Was it to be death after all…?

"Steer-Swiss Patrol-" She caught at the sheet beside her, that Hochwald had pulled and fastened it to the cleat. A huge wave came over the bow and frightened her, but she grasped the tiller and headed toward the Swiss shore. The Swiss Patrol boat loomed larger-larger, but the other, the German boat, still came on, a white cataract at its bows.

She did not seem to care now. The rush of the waves-of the growing storm-roared in her ears, as though from a great distance. Before her out of the gray of the mist and rain came the loom of the shore. She heard the hails of men, they seemed to be all about her, but she knew not how to obey and only sat clinging to the tiller and to Rowland, whose head was against her body very pale and still…

She was aware of a boat along side of her, manned by men in smart uniforms-one of whom leaped over into her boat, gave one quick glance around and then at first gently and then with more force released the tiller from her hand.

"If the Fräulein will permit-" a voice said.

"You are-?"

"Lieutnant Hoffmeier of the Swiss Lake Patrol-"

She raised her head, blankly staring at him and then as he caught her in his arms-suddenly relaxed.

CHAPTER XXVI
FINIS

The navy of land-locked Switzerland has always been a subject for jest among nations that go down to the sea in ships. But the patrol service of Lake Constance, which guards the line running midway down the length of the lake against illegality-the smuggling of arms and ammunition, the use of improper passports, and all the illicit dealings that are a part of the secret operations of nations at war, has been and continues to be a highly efficient force in the preservation of neutral relations.

Herr Lieutnant Hoffmeier, no lover, in spite of his name, of methods Teutonic, took as great a pride in his craft as though she had been a twenty thousand ton battleship, as much joy in his two small deck rifles as though they had been thirty-eight centimeters in caliber. It was his business to watch the lake for signs of suspicious craft and especially to note the movement of the German Government vessels at Lindau and Friedrichshafen. So that when the German Patrol emerged from Lindau, vomiting black smoke, he came out at once, assured that the two small fishing boats that he had been watching for some moments crossing in the storm were the objects of German attention. The round shots sent as warning aroused him to greater interest, especially as now it was clear that the sail-boats had reached Swiss waters. over which Herr Lieutnant Hoffmeier had dominion. He was somewhat jealous of his authority and found himself growing warm as the firing proceeded, quite in contravention of international agreements.

And so, just to show that he was on the job, and not lightly to be considered, he had his bow-gun cast loose and fired one shot well to windward of the pursuing boat. The sail-boats were now easily visible to the Herr Lieutnant with the naked eye and he noted with amazement the crashing of the two boats together, the reports of fire-arms and the fight that followed, in which one man had gone overboard. And so when he got within hailing distance, he shouted to the occupants of one sail-boat which had now swung clear, but got no answer. So he gave several quick orders and when his vessel lost way, jumped into his gig, which was swung overside, and pulled rapidly to the badly sailing lugger.

There was a girl at the helm, a very beautiful girl with reddish-brown hair, who looked at him blankly and refused to relinquish the helm. She was bewildered and terrified and after a brief question fainted in his arms. In the bottom of the boat at her feet a man lay, bleeding from a wound in his body, and forward, in the wash of the water the boat had shipped, another woman, dead.

The Herr Lieutnant took the helm and brought the lugger alongside the gangway of his craft, where with the help of his gig crew the unconscious girl, the wounded man and the dead woman were carried upon deck, his boatswain also bringing up from the lugger a black robe and a large valise which weighed heavily. Lieutnant Hoffmeier gave some brief orders-a restorative for the girl, first aid for the wounded man, who though desperately hurt, had a chance for life; then mounted his bridge and took down his megaphone, for the German patrol-boat had drawn up within a cable's length and was now lowering a boat to come aboard him.

"I would inform you, Herr Lieutnant, that you have already violated neutrality by firing over my line," he roared.

He spoke of the international boundary with the casual air of possession that was habitual with him.

"Escaping spies," came the reply, "we are within our rights."

"You have no rights in Swiss territory," he snapped, and lowered the megaphone, for his boatswain had mounted the bridge beside him and saluted.

"The lady has come to, sir, and would like to speak to you at once."

"Very good. Take the deck and receive the Herr Lieutnant. I will return."

And with a glance at the approaching boat, he went below.

Tanya was sitting up among some pillows on a bench in the cabin. She was very pale, her skin, transparent like onyx, blue-veined, her gray eyes dark and luminous.

"You wanted to see me?" asked the Lieutnant with brisk politeness.

"Yes, Herr-"

"Hoffmeier-"

"Herr Hoffmeier. I plead with you that you do not give us up-I am a Russian, the wounded man an American. We claim the protection of Swiss neutrality-"

"The German captain claims that you are spies-"

"It is not true. I was taken into Germany against my will, by the man who was drowned-an agent of the German Government, with the money in the valise yonder which we have recovered."

And breathlessly, in as few words as possible, she told him her story. He listened, attentively, aware of the fact that his captive was struggling bravely against her weakness, against terror of the horrors through which she had passed. In the midst of their conversation a sailor entered, touching his cap.

"Herr Lieutnant Zapp of the Bodensee patrol and His Excellency General Graf von Stromberg-"

Tanya stared past the man toward the door of the cabin as though expecting to see the terrible old man following the messenger.

"Herr Hoffmeier-" she pleaded, "his power is without limit. It is death for me-"

Hoffmeier turned and dismissed the man.

"I will be on deck in a moment."

And then to Tanya gently, "You are no spy?"

"No, I swear it."

"Nor he-the American-"

"Nor he-that also I swear-"

He caught the hands she extended toward him and pressed them firmly.

"That's all I want to know. Fear nothing. Even the German Emperor has no dominion over me."

"You will not let them-"

"No. Be at rest."

And with a smile, he vanished through the door and went up on deck, walking straight to where the two visitors awaited him, then halting, saluted.

After formal introductions General von Stromberg smiled.

"It was most kind of you, Herr Lieutnant Hoffmeier. We are thankful for your assistance. We have come to relieve you of our prisoners."

"Bitte?" said Hoffmeier.

"Our prisoners," repeated Von Stromberg. "We have come for them."

"There is doubtless some misunderstanding," said the Swiss officer politely. "I have no prisoners of yours. As Herr Lieutnant Zapp will doubtless tell you-"

"Come, Herr Lieutnant," broke in Von Stromberg, "we do not wish to delay you or indeed to be delayed. Our time is short."

"And mine. I have a patient who must go to the hospital at once."

"And you have the temerity to say that you will not relinquish these prisoners to me?"

Hoffmeier bowed.

"You have not mistaken my meaning."

"And you are willing to accept the consequences of this action?"

"Beyond doubt, or I would not take it."

Von Stromberg turned to his companion.

"Herr Lieutnant Zapp, – it cannot be that this gentleman is aware of my power-my authority-"

"You are mistaken," broke in the Swiss quite coolly, "You are Herr General Graf von Stromberg, Head of the military sections of the Imperial German Secret Service, Geheimrath, Privy Councilor of his Majesty, Emperor William II." He took two steps toward the brass rail and pointed, "But your power-your authority-ends yonder-a mile away. If you are unfamiliar with the treaties-with the law which governs the Bodensee, Herr Lieutnant Zapp will doubtless enlighten you, on your way back to Lindau."

"You are impudent, sir."

"I am merely obedient to those who command me."

"Those who command you, shall command your dismissal."

"This is not Prussia, Excellency. Not while I do my duty."

Von Stromberg glared at the boy as though he would have liked to strangle him.

"Do you realize that the money which these prisoners have looted belongs to citizens of Germany?"

"That is a matter which the courts will determine," said the Swiss lightly.

Von Stromberg shrugged and laughed unpleasantly.

"You are a very foolish young man."

Then after a moment of hesitation he took a pace forward, catching Hoffmeier by the arm and walking a few paces along the deck with him, whispering.

In the midst of the conversation the Swiss suddenly flung away.

"Bribery!" he cried hotly. "You've found the wrong man, Excellency. I will give you one minute to leave my ship, or I will take you to Switzerland and intern you."

And walking to the gangway he pointed down to where the visiting boat lay, the men at their oars.

"Your boat awaits you, Herr Lieutnant Zapp. I bid you good morning, Excellency."

Von Stromberg scowled, bit his lip and scowled again, but he followed his lieutenant down the ladder and silently entered the boat, wrapping himself in his great cape and was rowed away.

Lieutnant Hoffmeier mounted to the bridge and gave the orders for full speed ahead. Then he leaned over the rail and watched the small craft approach the German patrol-boat.

"Sacred pig of a Prussian bully. On my own quarterdeck, too! Tish!"

And he spat to leeward.

For three weeks Rowland had lain in the hospital at Rorschach, unaware of the storm that had raged about his bed. For a week he had been between life and death, for the bullet of Herr Hochwald had passed through his right lung and embedded itself between the ribs at his side. But careful nursing and the ministrations of an excellent surgeon had pulled him through, and the danger point had long since passed. Modern firearms, unless they kill outright, are not necessarily fatal, and modern surgery, almost an exact science, is on the side of strong constitutions. And so Rowland, the bullet removed, was now convalescent, sitting in a wonderful arm-chair, by a sunny window, looking out across the lake that had come so near being his grave, toward the Bavarian shore, where in the distance he could just see the dim outlines of the island of Lindau rising from the water.

Tanya had been to see him twice, Shestov once, each for a few moments only, in the presence of his nurse, and yesterday Tanya had told him that all was going well-that influence had been brought to bear at Berne by Shestov, Barthou and the Swiss Councilors of Nemi, and that the money of the Society which he had fought so hard to bring back was in the way of being restored to its rightful Trustees. Tanya was coming to visit him again this morning and he had been promised a half hour with her alone. Thus it was that the sun of the morning seemed so bright and the cloud-flecked sky so blue. Also he had shaved and was conscious of a supreme sense of well being.

She came to him, all in white (as became a bride), looking extraordinarily handsome, radiant with happiness and glowing with the joy of his recovery. The nurse, who was a discreet person, smiled at them both and withdrew.

He held out his arms and without a word she came into them, kneeling.

"Philippe," she murmured, "you are sure that you are getting well? It seems-"

"Right as rain. The cough has stopped. In a week I'll be as strong as ever. And then-"

He paused and she raised her lips to his, flushing adorably.

"And then-?"

She knew what he wanted to say, but she wanted him to say it.

"You and I-Tanya-my wife."

"Whenever you wish, Philippe Rowlan'," she murmured.

"Today?" he urged.

"Whenever you wish. We have won life together."

He was silent in a moment of soberness.

"We have a great work to do, Tanya."

"Yes. We shall do it-together. Russia!" Her voice sank. "Oh, mon Philippe-my country-the cause seems so hopeless-anarchy-nothing less-"

"Order will follow-reason-regeneration-"

"Honor cannot come from dishonor. Russia is false-a Judas among the nations-"

Rowland laughed. "Cheer up, my princess. Wave your wand and all will yet be well."

"My wand! A reed, Philippe-broken. I have never felt so weak-so powerless."

"But never have you been so strong-for in you I have already found new strength, – new power-authority. But there must be no more mediævalism in Nemi, Tanya. I have been thinking much. I have learned something in Germany … We must make a new fight-for the people yonder. They are not ready yet, but soon-soon. In the meanwhile we can work secretly. Our giant with a hundred arms has only been groping in the darkness. But he has a giant's strength… He shall use it. If you and I alone against Von Stromberg-all Germany-can emerge victorious … we can win again and again. We have given the first blow and are unharmed. There are rumors of strikes-you have heard? There will be other strikes-more blood shed-until the people of Germany arise in their might. A dream? Perhaps. But it is a good dream-for France, for England and America. But of one thing I am resolved-that the Society of Nemi shall not pass into the hands of the enemies of our allies-"

"God forbid. Hochwald-"

"Others will come-like him-from Russia-from Germany. But they shall not win-for we will know them."

"But if you are interned-?"

"They know nothing of my service in the French army. I shall not tell them. Barthou hopes for my full freedom."

"I was almost hoping-" she paused and pressed his hand gently.

"What?"

"That they would intern you. I am afraid of danger, now, Philippe. I never was before. The legend-"

"There shall be no more legends."

He laughed, kissing her hands gently.

"And yet after all was it not a legend that brought me Princess Tatyana?"

"But she is here to guard you against danger, Philippe Rowlan'. Death seems to me so much the more terrible now that Life and happiness stretch before us both… Poor Zoya!"

"And Markov. But they went together-as he would have wished."

She hid her face in her hands.

"Together? Yes. I can never forget him… Never."

"Nor I."

"She … loved you, Philippe-" she whispered.

He was silent, thinking. And then-

"She did what she could-to atone. One is judged, I think-by one's whole life, Tanya-not a part of it. Her record is finished, but its last item is the most important. She paid … in blood," he finished soberly.

"And Grisha Khodkine-he too-"

Rowland shrugged. "He was game-" he muttered.

She took from her hand bag some papers, much wrinkled, soiled and water-stained.

"His dossier-"

"We'll hardly need it now-"

He caught her hands in his and the papers fell to the floor, papers once so significant and now merely-soiled papers.

"We have now this moment, Tanya. Let us forget-everything else. Later we will give for others. Now we will take-for ourselves."

"It is too wonderful to be true-"

"Like the fairy tale. Listen and I will tell it to you. Once upon a time, there was a very small boy who lived in a very large house in a very noisy city. And there came to him in his dreams a wonderful fairy who carried a wand with a star at its end which had the property of making all good things come true. Her name was Princess Tatyana and he loved her, for she was very, very beautiful-"

Tanya laid her fingers across his lips.

"Is not our own fairy story more beautiful than this?"

He kissed her fingers and then, since her lips were near, took them too, for fairy tales, beautiful as they may be, are after all, mere creatures of dreams. And Tanya's lips were very real…

THE END