Choosing an alley rather than a street in which he might run upon soldiers at any moment, he moved quickly yet cautiously away from the inn. Behind him he could hear the voices of many men. They were raised to a high pitch by excitement. It was clear to Barney that there were many more than the original three--Prince Peter had, in all proba-bility, enlisted the aid of the military.
Could he but reach the frontier with his stolen passes he would be comparatively safe, for the rugged mountains of Lutha offered many places of concealment, and, too, there were few Luthanians who did not hate Peter of Blentz most cordially--among the men of the mountains at least.
Once there he could defy a dozen Blentz princes for the little time that would be required to carry him into Serbia and comparative safety.
As he approached a cross street a couple of squares from the inn he found it necessary to pass beneath a street lamp.
For a moment he paused in the shadows of the alley listen-ing. Hearing nothing moving in the street, Barney was about to make a swift spring for the shadows upon the opposite side when it occurred to him that it might be safer to make assurance doubly sure by having a look up and down the street before emerging into the light.
It was just as well that he did, for as he thrust his head around the corner of the building the first thing that his eyes fell upon was the figure of an Austrian sentry, scarcely three paces from him. The soldier was standing in a listening attitude, his head half turned away from the American. The sounds coming from the direction of the inn were apparently what had attracted his attention.
Behind him, Barney was sure he heard evidences of pur-suit. Before him was certain detection should he attempt to cross the street. On either hand rose the walls of buildings.
That he was trapped there seemed little doubt.
He continued to stand motionless, watching the Austrian soldier. Should the fellow turn toward him, he had but to withdraw his head within the shadow of the building that hid his body. Possibly the man might turn and take his beat in the opposite direction. In which case Barney was sure he could dodge across the street, undetected.
Already the vague threat of pursuit from the direction of the inn had developed into a certainty--he could hear men moving toward him through the alley from the rear. Would the sentry never move! Evidently not, until he heard the others coming through the alley. Then he would turn, and the devil would be to pay for the American.
Barney was about hopeless. He had been in the war zone long enough to know that it might prove a very disagreeable matter to be caught sneaking through back alleys at night.
There was a single chance--a sort of forlorn hope--and that was to risk fate and make a dash beneath the sentry's nose for the opposite alley mouth.
"Well, here goes," thought Barney. He had heard that many of the Austrians were excellent shots. Visions of Bea-trice, Nebraska, swarmed his memory. They were pleasant visions, made doubly alluring by the thought that the reali-ties of them might never again be for him.
He turned once more toward the sounds of pursuit--the men upon his track could not be over a square away--there was not an instant to be lost. And then from above him, upon the opposite side of the alley, came a low: "S-s-t!"Barney looked up. Very dimly he could see the dark out-line of a window some dozen feet from the pavement, and framed within it the lighter blotch that might have been a human face. Again came the challenging: "S-s-t!" Yes, there was someone above, signaling to him.
"S-s-t!" replied Barney. He knew that he had been dis-covered, and could think of no better plan for throwing the discoverer off his guard than to reply.
Then a soft voice floated down to him--a woman's voice!
"Is that you?" The tongue was Serbian. Barney could understand it, though he spoke it but indifferently.
"Yes," he replied truthfully.
"Thank Heaven!" came the voice from above. "I have been watching you, and thought you one of the Austrian pigs. Quick! They are coming--I can hear them;" and at the same instant Barney saw something drop from the win-dow to the ground. He crossed the alley quickly, and could have shouted in relief for what he found there--the end of a knotted rope dangling from above.
His pursuers were almost upon him when he seized the rude ladder to clamber upward. At the window's ledge a firm, young hand reached out and, seizing his own, almost dragged him through the window. He turned to look back into the alley. He had been just in time; the Austrian sentry, alarmed by the sound of approaching footsteps down the alley, had stepped into view. He stood there now with leveled rifle, a challenge upon his lips. From the advancing party came a satisfactory reply.
At the same instant the girl beside him in the Stygian blackness of the room threw her arms about Barney's neck and drew his face down to hers.
"Oh, Stefan," she whispered, "what a narrow escape! It makes me tremble to think of it. They would have shot you, my Stefan!"The American put an arm about the girl's shoulders, and raised one hand to her cheek--it might have been in caress, but it wasn't. It was to smother the cry of alarm he antici-pated would follow the discovery that he was not "Stefan."He bent his lips close to her ear.
"Do not make an outcry," he whispered in very poor Serbian. "I am not Stefan; but I am a friend."The exclamation of surprise or fright that he had expected was not forthcoming. The girl lowered her arms from about his neck.
"Who are you?" she asked in a low whisper.
