For a moment he gazed down on the superbly beautiful body from which, many months ago, he had derived such delirious pleasure; but it meant no more to him now than a hunk of dead meat. Hoisting Lisala's naked body over his shoulder, he made towards the door. Georgina preceded him, carrying the dark lantern. They moved cautiously through long passages and down winding flights of stairs, fearful that von Haugwitz might have posted a night watchman to make sure that no-one left the Castle without his permission. But, apparently, he had relied on nobody being able to secure horses without rousing his grooms, and that anyone who made off clandestinely on foot could be pursued and brought back within a few hours. Twenty minutes proved enough for Roger to get Lisala to the Weinstube and lower her gently into the wine press.
Returning upstairs, they went to Ulrich's room. He, too, was in a deep slumber, snoring loudly. With him they followed the same procedure; but he was a heavy man and to get him down proved much more difficult. Several times Roger had to rest. At others, Georgina took her husband's feet while Roger supported his head and shoulders. But, at length, they carried him into the Weinstube, hoisted his naked body up and let it fall into the press beside that of Lisala.
Spent by their exertions, Roger and Georgina went to the dining room and fortified themselves with glasses of Muscatel wine. By then it was three o'clock in the morning. After they had rested a while, Roger said:
'It was arranged that we should start for Frankfurt at eight o'clock in the morning. You will have your breakfast brought to you in bed as usual. I shall have mine downstairs. We must be ready to set off promptly. The drug should keep them asleep until at least midday. That will give us four hours' start. But, with luck, they will sleep on well into the afternoon, which will give us longer before Ulrich can send his men in pursuit of us.'
Georgina laughed. 'Whenever they wake, it is going to be mightily embarrassing for them to find themselves naked, and have to make their way back to their rooms in the nude. At least one of the servants is certain to see them. But it would be even more amusing if they are still in the press when the vintagers arrive to start pressing. They would then become the laughing stock of the country for miles round.'
Roger laughed too, then yawned. 'I'm desperate sleepy. Let us snatch two or three hours' rest before we play the final act and make our bid for freedom.' Lovingly they kissed; then, again hand in hand, went upstairs to their rooms.
At seven, the footman who was looking after Roger woke him from a deep sleep. At seven-thirty he went down to breakfast. As usual, Big Karl stood near the door of the dining room, superintending the service. Roger had never suffered from nerves, and said to him quite casually:
'The Herr Baron came to my room a while ago. He has decided not, after all, to go in to Frankfurt, and has already gone out to supervise the vintaging. The Gnadigefrau Baronin will come with me, to show me the city. But my wife intends to remain behind, and keep the Herr Baron company.'
Big Karl bowed stiffly and accepted this information with a stolid face. Servants in great houses miss little of what goes on among their betters. Karl and his underlings, male and female, knew well enough that their master was sleeping with Roger's wife, and that Roger was sleeping with their mistress. Roger had, in fact, counted on it that they would put their own interpretation on the wish of von Haugwitz and himself to spend a day alone with each other's wives, and so not suspect that he intended to make off for good with Georgina.
Shortly before eight o'clock, Georgina appeared. Ilse was behind her, carrying two heavy valises. For a moment Roger feared that the sight of them might arouse suspicion that she was about to run away with him. But she promptly stilled his fears by saying, loudly enough for Big Karl to hear, 'These are the things that Ulrich wished to have valued by the silversmith in Frankfurt.'
A coach stood ready at the door. It was, as Roger had expected, one of the Baron's, which meant that he would have to leave his own behind; but that could not be helped. A groom stood nearby with Roger's charger. As Georgina got into the coach, she gave Use a long, grateful look. Roger mounted and they set off down the curving mountain road.
When they reached the main road which ran alongside the broad river, the coachman reined his horses to the left, in the direction of Mayence and Frankfurt. Relieved that they had succeeded in getting away from the Castle without a hitch, Roger had allowed his thoughts to wander. They had traversed a good half-mile when, with a sudden, awful shock, it struck him that von Haugwitz's arrangements for the coach to be held up must still stand.
The Baron's men would obey his order to fire from their ambush in the direction of the coach; and, when it was brought to a halt, surround it. But what then? They would expect him to be with it, to give them further orders and call off the joke. If he was not, what course would they adopt? The most probable answer seemed that they would feel called on to continue to play their role as bandits, capture the occupants of the coach, carry them off to some nearby hiding place, and send to the Castle for instructions.
When the Baron could not be found, Big Karl would take charge of the affair and, no doubt, decree that the prisoners should be held until his master reappeared. By afternoon the infuriated von Haugwitz should again be in a position to give orders. One way or another he would contrive that they spelt death for Roger and Georgina.
Spurring his horse forward, Roger called to the coachman to pull up. With a look of surprise, the man obeyed. Roger then said, 'Now turn about.'
Instead of doing so, the coachman replied, 'We are going to Frankfurt, mein Herr.'
'No. I have changed my mind. We are going to Coblenz.'
The man scowled at him and protested sharply. 'I am driving this coach to Frankfurt. Those are the Herr Baron's orders.'
Roger felt certain then that the coachman was in the plot, and knew about the hold-up that was to take place further along the road; perhaps even only a few hundred yards ahead. He gave a quick glance in that direction, but could see no movement among the trees and bushes which covered the slope up from the roadside. Pulling a pistol from his holster, he pointed it at the coachman, and cried:
'Do as I say. Turn the coach about, or I'll put a bullet into you, then drive it myself.'
Muttering an oath, the man turned the vehicle round. As he did so, a young footman who had been perched on the boot, jumped down and ran off into the bushes.
Cursing his own negligence in having forgotten both the ambush and that, according to custom, a footman would ride on the back of the coach, Roger roared at the coachman, 'Now put your horses into a gallop, or I'll blow your head off.'
Cowed by the threat, the man whipped up his horses, and the coach rattled along the stony road at full speed. But now Roger was really worried. The footman would report to Big Karl what had happened. They would search for the Baron in vain. It was quite possible that the steward was fully aware of his master's intentions. In any case, he knew that it had been planned to ambush the coach; so the odds were that he would take it on himself to send mounted men after it.
Inside the coach, poor Georgina was bounced from side to side. She had caught only Roger's last shouted order to the coachman. Clutching the window-frame, she thrust her head out and called to him, 'What has happened? Whither are we going, and why at such a pace?'
'To Coblenz,' he shouted back. 'This rogue on the box would have driven us into the ambush had I not thought to make him turn about in time. But Coblenz is thirty miles or more downstream. I fear we'll be pursued, and there alone lies safety, so we must make all possible speed.'