Richard laughed light-heartedly. “Oh, I’ll be all right now you’re safe. It’s only worry that got me down. We were just fixing up about going back to get you.”
“Oh, Richard!” Marie Lou’s eyes were full of smiles again, then, almost at once, her face grew grave. “But we are not safe — not yet. Leshkin has had all the guards along the frontier trebled, and last night he left Kiev in an aeroplane. He is determined to stop us getting across.”
“Good Lord! I wonder if he’s in the big bomber that’s been sailing up and down. If so, he’s bound to spot my ’plane. We can’t possible hide it.” Richard turned to Rex.
“Look here, there’s not a moment to lose. We must get out before the Bolshie ’plane comes over again. I’m going to take Marie Lou across right away. I’ll be back for another of you as soon as I can.”
“Okay,” Rex nodded. “Make it snappy, or they’ll get us yet!”
Valeria Petrovna had flung herself into Simon’s arms the moment she reached the ground. He looked at her with mingled love and amazement. She was still dressed in the riding kit she had worn for her part at the theatre. Her make-up had not been properly removed, and little furrows down her cheeks showed that she had been weeping bitterly.
“Simon — dear one — this is terrible, that I ’ave to lose you,” she sobbed, breaking into fresh tears. “An’ last night... oh, it was ’orrible. Did you know that Leshkin meant to arrest you again? But no, you could not. ’e come to my dressing-room after the secon’ act — ’e say that ’e ’as been to Moscawa. Oh, why did you not tell me of those men?”
“What men?” asked Simon, puzzled.
“The men you kill. Eight men of the Ogpu! Oh, you are a lion, my Simon, but Stalin, ’e was furious. Nevaire would ’e forgive that — an’ ’e ’as take back your pardon that ’e give me.”
“It was in self-defence!”
“No matter — you ’ave kill them, that is what Leshkin say; ’e is so ’appy that ’e do not know ’ow to contain ’imself. That is why ’e tell me. Then I leave the theatre — to warn you, just as I am — but when I arrive at the ’otel you are no longer there!” Valeria Petrovna struck her breast passionately with her clenched fists.
“Oh, my dear.” Simon slipped his arm around her shaking shoulders. “That was splendid of you.”
“I was distraught. I do not know what I do. Then, when I ’ave left the theatre, the manager ’e make announcement in the middle of the third act; ’e say that I am ill all suddenly, but Leshkin suspect at once and come rushing to the ’otel like a mad bull. ’ow I laugh at ’em when ’e find that you ’ave gone already — but ’e find that my car is gone, also, and ’e go mad with rage because ’e think that it was me that ’elp you to escape — but I, myself, do not know what to think.”
Valeria Petrovna burst into a fresh fit of sobbing, then, when she had recovered a little, she went on: “Leshkin question all the police on the telephone from the ’otel — they ’ave seen my car on the road to Birdichy, but you are not alone — there are others, also! Then ’e speak to the prison, an’ ’e find that your frien’s have escape through a tunnel in the ground... ’e is furious — livid — ’e order troops to ’old the bridge at Vinnitsa, then ’e rush off to follow you by ’plane, shaking ’is great fist in my face, and ’e swear that ’e would put his foot in the face of that damn’ Jew yet!”
“I’m so sorry — so dreadfully sorry. You must have had an awful time,” Simon tried to comfort her. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Rex helping Marie Lou back into the ’plane, and, realizing the immediate danger now that he knew Leshkin was somewhere on the scene, he looked apprehensively at the sky-line for signs of the big troop-carrier.
“The suspense! It was ’orrible,” Valeria Petrovna cried. “’Ow I live through the night I do not know. I wait... wait... wait in the lounge of the ’otel, praying for news. Then, at last, when I am worn out, the little one arrive! But why did you not tell me that you mean to leave me?”
“You didn’t tell me that you left my friends in prison to be shot — did you?”
“’Ow you know that?”
“Doesn’t matter much now, does it?”
“Oh, Simon, I ’ave been wrong about that. I know it! But what would you ’ave me do? I could not save you all!”
He frowned. “If only you had told me.”
“My brave one. You would ’ave run into awful danger to try an’ save your frien’s. It is you I love. I try to save you from yourself!”
“Well, let’s not say any more about it.”
“But, Simon, ’ow could you leave me without one word?”
“Seems I’ve got to leave you in any case — unless you’ll come with me?”
“Oh, Simon — Simon —” She wrung her hands.
“’Ow can I? Russia is my country. I love ’er, even as I love you.”
Rex stood by the Duke watching Richard wheel above them to gain altitude. The little white ’plane banked sharply and then, straightening out, headed for the Rumanian frontier. It had hardly disappeared above the tree-tops to the south when his quick ear caught the note of another engine. “Look out!” he yelled. “’Plane over!”
Simon gripped Valeria Petrovna by the arm. “Quick! We must run for it — the farmhouse!”
The dull booming of the big bomber could be clearly heard now. They had hardly crowded into the doorway of the farm when Rex spotted her. “Look!” he cried. “There she is!”
“It is Leshkin,” exclaimed Valeria Petrovna.
Rex nodded. “If he spots Richard I guess our number’s up.”
At that moment Richard was flying low over patches of wood and growing crops on the Rumanian side. He noticed a broad meadow and ’planed down into it, making an easy landing.
“Jump out, Marie Lou,” he called. “I’ll be back in five minutes with one of the others.”
She climbed out, laughing — her blue eyes brilliant in the sunshine. “Be back soon,” she cried. “I will be waiting.”
Richard took off again, and in a few minutes had all the altitude he needed for this short flight. He could see the roof-tops of the tiny township to the east, how the streets twisted in and out among the houses. The orchards and fields spread out before him like a patchwork quilt; he could see the farmhouse again now.
De Richleau saw him first “But they will see him for a certainty,” he cried, anxiously.
The others had their eyes glued to the giant ’plane sailing serenely, high up among the little white clouds that flecked the empyrean blue. Suddenly it swerved from its course!
“He’s spotted!” cried Rex. “Look! The big boy’s circling!”
“We’ll never do it,” said Simon, nervously. “Richard’s ’plane can’t take us all. What about the car?”
“Useless,” the Duke replied, curtly. “The frontier guards would get us. It’s Richard — or capture!”
Valeria Petrovna was right. Leshkin himself was in the big ’plane; since the first light of dawn he had been patrolling the frontier, scouring the road for her car, determined that the fugitives should not escape. The sight of the small ’plane coming in from Rumania had roused his suspicions immediately; he knew that his enemies had powerful friends outside Russia.
“Higher,” he shouted to his pilot, “higher!” He did not want Richard to suspect their presence until he had actually landed.
Two thousand feet under the big bomber Richard’s ’plane showed like a cardboard toy against the flattened landscape. As it circled, and its wings gave free vision, Leshkin could see the tiny group of figures huddled in the farmhouse doorway through his binoculars. Sharply he gave the order to descend.