Читать книгу Patrick O’Brian 3-Book Adventure Collection: The Road to Samarcand, The Golden Ocean, The Unknown Shore - Patrick O’Brian - Страница 10

For some time no one spoke. Sullivan drummed his fingers on the floor: at last he said, ‘I have it. Is Li Han still around?’

‘I’m not sure,’ said Derrick, ‘but I think he is.’

‘Good. We left the three sons of the Khan at the village of Tu Fu just before we were taken. They will wait for us five days. If Li Han takes a message to them at once, and they ride like the wind to Hsien Lu, they can tell him to bring his men up into the hills where the road leads into Liao Meng, to the place called the valley of the Three Winds. It is a perfect place for an ambush – plenty of cover and a steep slope – and it is just about there that their engines should give out. I’m right, aren’t I, Ross?’

‘Yes, just about seven li should do it.’

‘The next thing to do is to disable the new machine-guns and the bombs. Do you know what pattern they are?’

‘I am afraid I do not – these things are quite outside my province. But I have the blue-prints here, if they would be any use to you.’

‘That will be as good as seeing the actual machines,’ said Ross, unfolding the plans. ‘Derrick, keep an eye open through the crack of the door.’

Ross, who knew more about machinery than all the rest of them put together, looked closely at the plans. ‘They have got some important new ideas here,’ he said. ‘Any government would give a pretty penny to see these plans. I dare say they are trying them out here as a test under war conditions. We’ll keep these. Look here, Professor, do you see this locking-pin? And this tension nut above it? If you loosen these thoroughly, the gun will jam after the first few rounds, and in all likelihood the whole thing will explode, blowing the gun and the gunner to – to wherever Communist bandits go.’

‘I see,’ said the Professor, poring over the blue-print. ‘This object is to be loosened, and this nut also. Turned to the left, I take it? Derrick, you had better inspect the plan too, in case I make a mistake. I recall that I did so once, with a plan of a mechanical excavator. It buried the foreman and seventeen undergraduates, as well as the umbrella of my colleague Bloom. He was disproportionately vexed: he said that the umbrella had belonged to his father, the expert on Middle European Hebrew symbolism, you know, and –’

‘Forgive me if I interrupt, Professor,’ said Sullivan, ‘but what about the bombs?’

‘What bombs? Oh, yes, the bombs. Dear me, I was almost forgetting the bombs. Here is a full description of them. Nasty, ugly, dangerous machines, in my opinion.’

‘This is a cinch,’ said Sullivan. ‘You see the variable fuse, Ross?’

‘Yes. Set that to zero and they’ll blow every man-jack to pieces the minute he tries to use them.’

‘It’s a cinch,’ repeated Sullivan. ‘Look, Professor, you must unscrew the cap here, and set the marker to the figure nought. Then put on the cap again and leave the bombs strictly alone. In no circumstances touch this pin, or you will be blown up.’

‘Oh,’ said the Professor, uncertainly. ‘Blown up?’

‘Blown right up sky high, so have a care.’

‘I will, I assure you. This is the pin that is not to be touched. Derrick, come and look at this pin, and if you see me touching it, remind me that I should not touch it, then walk – no, run – quickly off.’

Derrick was looking at the plan, and Ross was pointing out the vital pin, when Dimitri Mihailovitch walked silently in. He saw the blue-print in Ross’s hands, and an expression of intense suspicion shot across his ugly face. He swung to Professor Ayrton and opened his mouth to speak, but Sullivan had been gliding sideways through the shadow towards him, and before a sound came out of his mouth Sullivan leapt on him, covering his face with a large and powerful hand. There was a momentary struggle: the Russian was bent violently back; they heard a strangled cry, a crack like the breaking of a stick, and Sullivan put the inert body gently down.

‘I’m afraid I had to break his neck,’ said Sullivan. ‘If he had fired that would have been the end of us all.’

‘That complicates things,’ remarked Ross quietly, pocketing the Russian’s revolver.

Derrick was tough: he had seen death before: but now he felt pale and sick with horror. The Professor could hardly speak.

‘Take a drink,’ ordered Sullivan, passing the vodka.

‘You must excuse my agitation,’ said the Professor in a trembling voice, wiping his spectacles nervously. ‘I am unused to … dear me …’ his voice trailed off into silence.

‘Now, to continue,’ said Sullivan, ‘when you have done those things, you will have to remain with Shun Chi’s army until they reach the gorge in the hills, or they will get suspicious. You must keep on the extreme right, and at the first shot you lie down dead. We will have men there and ready to take care of you.’

Ross suddenly looked at him with a question in his eyes.

‘Yes. We’ll be there,’ said Sullivan. ‘We are going to tie you up, Professor, and take your clothes and the Russian’s. Derrick will have two horses ready untied behind. When we have been gone an hour Derrick will come in and find you tied up and will give the alarm. There will be no suspicion of a plot with this dead Russian here. Then you will arrange the machine-guns and the bombs. Repeat what you have to do.’

The Professor was correct in every detail.

‘Derrick,’ said Sullivan, after a moment’s thought, ‘give me the bearings of the camp again. Right: that’s plain. As a precaution you must send Li Han off with the message as well. Now is everything clear? Good. Then I’ll trouble you for your clothes, Professor, and the blue-prints. Derrick, get the horses ready. Do not stand by them – walk clean away, and come back here to give the alarm in one hour. Got it? Right. Professor, I am going to jam this gag into your mouth, so if there is anything that is not quite clear, say it now.’

‘I have it all plain in my mind,’ said the Professor. ‘Good luck and God-speed.’ He opened his mouth for the gag, and lay still while they bound him.

‘Go on, Derrick,’ said his uncle, softly, patting him on the shoulder, ‘you can take it, can’t you?’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Derrick. ‘Good luck.’

He sauntered out: the guards were rolling dice at some distance from the door, and they did not even look up as he passed. He turned the corner of the house and came to the place where the horses stood. He quickly chose the best and untied them: he noticed that his hands were trembling, but he forced himself to remain calm. He lengthened the stirrups to suit the long legs of his uncle and Mr Ross, and he tightened the girths. While he was doing this he became aware that someone was watching him from behind. Cautiously he sidled round the horse and peered under its belly. It was only Li Han. He gasped with relief, gave the girths a final pull, left the reins hanging through the loop and turned away. He gave Li Han a jerk of his head, and the Chinese followed him.

Derrick went slowly to the place where he knew that Li Han had left his ass, and there, pretending to be examining the little creature’s hooves, he murmured his news and the message. Li Han nodded, mounted his donkey and rode slowly out of the rebel encampment.

Now Derrick had to pass the next hour somehow. He marked the position of the sun and walked about as easily as he could. He listened with all the force of his being for the shots at the gate which would mean that Ross and Sullivan had been detected – shots either at the house or at the gate of the camp. But when ten minutes had passed he was almost sure that he would not hear them now. He knew he must not go round by the stone house to see if the horses were gone, as that might possibly give the game away, but he longed to know for certain, and the next long wait was the most anxious that he had ever passed in his life. At last the sun had moved an hour’s space across the sky, and Derrick, walking hurriedly, as if he had a message, went to the stone house. The guards were still playing dice as he passed them. He paused for a second on the threshold, smiled at the Professor, and then let out a yell that echoed throughout the camp.

The guards came rushing in with their rifles at the ready. For several minutes there was a confused hurly-burly, with everyone shouting at the tops of their voices. The din attracted Shun Chi himself; he came stamping through the crowd with his Russian advisers, knocked the guards out of his path, and on hearing the news that his prisoners had escaped, he foamed at the mouth. When he could speak he swore that he would have the head of every sentry at the gate if they had let the prisoners through. In a moment the report came that the sentries, seeing two Europeans dressed like Russians, had let them through without thinking twice about it. In another five minutes heads were rolling outside the camp, and the guards who had been outside the house had melted away into hiding. The officer who was supposed to be in charge of the men who should have been guarding the horses brought the news that two were missing: Shun Chi shot him where he stood.

Meanwhile the Russians were untying the Professor, and as soon as the gag was out, the Professor cried, ‘That fool Dimitri. I will have him shot, liquidated, sent to Siberia. Put him under arrest at once. The fool, he would insist on having the prisoners untied to question them. He said they would not answer to harsh treatment. I told him that it would be better to flog the answers out of them. Where is the son of a yellow dog? This is sabotage. He was in the pay of the capitalists. I’ll know who paid him! I’ll flog the answers out of him. Bring him here!’

‘They seem to have killed him, Ivan Petrovitch,’ said one of them apologetically.

‘So much the better,’ growled the Professor. ‘They have saved me the trouble.’ He turned to Shun Chi. ‘Well, Tu-chun,’ he snapped, ‘this is a pretty piece of work. They will be half-way to Liao-Meng by now, taking the south road to avoid Hsien Lu’s army. If they are not caught before sunset, someone will have to answer for it.’ He glared about him impressively and caught sight of Derrick. ‘Here, you,’ he shouted, falling upon him with a rain of blows, ‘why weren’t you here to protect your master, idle, worthless dog.’ He kicked him out of the house, and after a little more cursing and stamping about, he cried, ‘I said that the machine-guns were to be ready for inspection. Where are they?’

‘If you will come with me, comrade,’ said one of the Russians, ‘I will show them to you. They are all ready. We have explained the working mechanism to the soldiers.’

By the side of a long row of wooden crates the machine-guns stood, all neatly aligned.

‘You have explained them thoroughly?’ asked the Professor, looking at them blankly.

‘Oh, yes, comrade, very thoroughly,’ said the Russian. ‘They understand them very well. My interpreter learnt in less than a morning.’

‘Your interpreter? Don’t you speak Chinese?’

‘Why, no, Ivan Petrovitch. You know that none of us speaks Chinese except the dead capitalist spy, Dimitri Mihailovitch.’

‘Of course. I remember. Who is your interpreter? How many are there here?’

‘There were only two, comrade. A Chinese clerk who deserted last week, and the officer of the guard who lost his head just now.’

‘And you have made no effort to learn Chinese in all this time? You are content to be here now, unable to instruct the soldiers or to communicate with the Tu-chun?’

‘But you know what our orders were, and what our work is, Ivan Petrovitch,’ said the Russian, excusing himself; but there was a certain wondering tone in his voice that the Professor did not like.

‘Nevertheless,’ he said, ‘I think that a little more zeal – however, let us get on with the inspection. These are all the guns?’

‘Yes, comrade. Perhaps you can solve a little difficulty for me, Ivan Petrovitch. I find that when they get heated, the stop-pawl sometimes refuses its function. What is the best way of disengaging the return-spring without removing the condenser?’

‘Well,’ said the Professor, ‘I think I will go on with the inspection now. It would take time to show you, and I have none to spare just now. We will talk about it in the evening.’

‘But if you pointed it out on the blue-print, comrade, I would see in a moment.’

‘I have not got it with me.’

‘But, comrade, excuse me. I saw you put it in your pocket.’

‘Later, later,’ cried the Professor, feigning to be absorbed in the machine-gun before him.

The Russian looked at him for a moment, and then said, ‘Do you think I should detach the draw-bolt?’

‘Yes,’ said the Professor. ‘Now I want you to go and tell the others that I want a report from all of you immediately on the – on the rate of fire in the hands of inexperienced recruits, and on the difficulties you have met with in training the men. I want them at once, together with a return of breakages. You can be doing that while I look over these.’

‘Very well,’ said the Russian, leaving them.

When he was well away, the Professor sat down on the ground by the first machine-gun. It looked very unlike the blue-print.

‘I believe the locking-pin and the tension nut are under this casing,’ he said. ‘Of course, they would not leave such delicate parts exposed. Pass me that spanner.’ He worked at the nuts. ‘Yes, here we are,’ he said, removing the casing. ‘Now we turn to the left here, and again here, and the deed is done.’ He looked up with a smile, wiping his forehead with a greasy hand.

‘Don’t look round, sir,’ murmured Derrick, ‘but there’s something rather odd behind. The Russians are standing by their hut, and they are watching you through their binoculars.’

‘Are they, indeed? Confound their impertinence. I am very much afraid that that fellow who was here is growing suspicious. I could not altogether avoid his technical questions, and I probably answered stupidly. However, I have a petard on which to hoist them if they provoke me.’ He seemed to Derrick extraordinarily calm.

‘They are getting excited,’ said Derrick. ‘One is coming our way now.’

‘I suppose I have done something very unprofessional with this machine,’ said the Professor, peering thoughtfully at a piece of metal.

The Russian came up, affecting to stroll idly. ‘It is getting very hot, comrade,’ he remarked, looking sharply at the dismantled gun.

‘I don’t find it so,’ snapped the Professor. ‘Have you prepared your report?’

The Russian did not reply directly. He said, ‘You seem to be having some difficulty with that interruptor.’ There was a false, cunning note in his voice.

The Professor threw down his spanner and stared menacingly at the Russian, who dropped his eyes and muttered, ‘Don’t be offended, Ivan Petrovitch, I’m not criticising … I will go and write my report at once.’

‘They are not quite sure yet,’ said the Professor, when he was out of earshot. ‘If I knew a few technical terms in Russian – or, indeed, in any language – I could probably keep them off for the few hours that are necessary. But I am very much afraid,’ he paused to tighten a nut, ‘I am very much afraid that they will force me to hoist them before long. Are they still watching?’

‘Yes. All of them.’

‘Humph,’ said the Professor, moving on to the next gun.

‘What do you mean by hoisting them?’ asked Derrick, in a worried murmur. He could not understand how the Professor could remain so cool right under the gaze of their enemies.

‘I mean hoisting them on their own petard. You have read of the engineer being blasted at the pale-faced moon, have you not? No? Then you must agree with me that school is quite certainly imperative.’ He was working steadily on the fourth gun. ‘I mean that I will double-cross the bum galoots. They suppose themselves to be very wise guys: but they will find that they are deceived, and that we are wiser.’

‘How do you mean?’ asked Derrick, hardly able to control his own nervousness.

‘Keep a cool head, my dear boy. I know that this is very trying for you, but endeavour to be calm. I will tell you – it is a scheme worthy of a Greek hero, and it is not wholly un-Greek in its element of treachery. But I will condense it into four or five words. They do not speak Chinese: I do. I hope very much that I shall be able to accomplish my design without bloodshed, but if I cannot, then I must regretfully sacrifice the knaves. Are they still there?’

‘Yes.’

‘When you are speaking to an older man, Derrick, it is better to say “sir.” Even in times like these one should try to keep one’s self-command, and the little civilities are like so many bulwarks, as I believe the nautical term goes. Now just help me fasten this disagreeably oily piece, and I will go and pay a call on Shun Chi. They are still watching?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then there is no hope for them, the unfortunate knaves. Now the next screw …’ It seemed that he would never finish: Derrick watched him go on and on, patiently adjusting the scattered parts, until he could hardly bear it any longer. But at last the Professor straightened his long and bony frame, wiped his face and said, ‘Now, Derrick, I want you to stand where you can watch the Tu-chun’s tent. If you see anything unpleasant happening to me, you must give me your word to escape at once, without trying to do anything to help me. I want your word, and I will not go otherwise.’ He spoke gently, but Derrick knew that he was in deadly earnest. He gave his word, and the Professor said, ‘There is, in point of fact, no danger at all. All this is only to make me feel a little more confident.’ He smiled, and turned away.

Derrick watched him walk to the left, out of the Russians’ sight, and then turn sharply to the Tu-chun’s tent.

The rebel leader was in a black mood, but he greeted the Professor with as much courtesy as he could manage, which was not a great deal, for he was an ill-conditioned, brutish fellow, who had risen from the gutters of Hu Wan through the various stages of petty thievery, brigandage and banditry to his present position. He was a false, treacherous man, of the kind who can be relied upon to turn against his friends and allies at a moment’s notice if it serves his ambition, or if his fears are aroused.

‘I have some disturbing news for you, Tu-chun,’ said Professor Ayrton. ‘There is treachery in your camp.’

‘What?’ cried Shun Chi, grasping his revolver. ‘Who?’

‘You have had no suspicions?’

‘The sentries this morning?’

‘Worse.’

Shun Chi went pale. He had been a traitor all his life and he felt treachery all around him.

‘Tell me at once,’ he begged. ‘I will give you …’ – he looked wildly round the tent – ‘I will give you a thousand taels of gold.’

‘I want no gold, Shun Chi. The cause I serve needs no gold. When I came here I was told to expect to find four Russians. I found one. He is dead. The others are foreign devils hired by Hsien Lu. They knew that I had detected them, or at least that I suspected them – their papers were stolen or forged – and they were certain that as soon as I inspected the machine-guns and the bombs I should be certain of their treachery, so they hatched a plot with the prisoners – who were almost certainly confederates – to have Dimitri Mihailovitch and me murdered. You had better have them arrested at once, before they bribe the sentries and escape too. But they must not be killed: my chiefs will want to see them. I cannot promise any further support for your army if these men are killed. Now you must excuse me, Tu-chun: if I am to repair the sabotaged machine-guns and the bombs in time for tomorrow’s attack I shall need every minute. Just have them tied and gagged, and let no one near them – they have too many accomplices here already.’

For a moment it seemed as if Shun Chi were going to have an apoplectic fit. The veins stood out on his forehead and he gasped for breath. But by a violent effort he mastered himself enough to scream for his guards and to rush out of the tent.

The Russians were standing by the machine-guns, peering into their works. They started guiltily when they saw the Professor. If the rebel leader had not already been wholly convinced, he would have condemned them in that moment, for they looked like men detected in a crime. ‘Sons of pigs,’ he shouted, ‘you are at it even now. You are dead men.’ He screamed orders to his guards, and in spite of his greed for more tanks and guns his fury overcame him, and in a moment the Russians rolled headless on the ground.

‘This is a foretaste of victory,’ said Shun Chi, with an evil smile. ‘Tomorrow I shall do the same to Hsien Lu and every prisoner we take, if only you can get the guns ready in time.’

‘Rest assured, Tu-chun: I shall have them fully prepared for you by the hour of the Rat,’ said the Professor, ‘and the bombs, too.’

‘Well,’ said Derrick. ‘I never thought it would come off quite like that.’

‘I was afraid it would,’ said the Professor, seriously. ‘I did my best for them, but there was no help for it. It was their lives or ours.’

They worked hard. They soon grew accustomed to the machine-guns, and by nightfall they had successfully wrecked every one of them. The Professor attended to the bombs by the light of a hurricane-lamp, and by midnight the serried racks of bombs were all set to explode as soon as their pins were pulled. The Professor put the last one in its place and got up to stretch. ‘I never hope to spend a more thoroughly uncomfortable evening,’ he said. ‘It quite surprises me that I am still in one piece. Never again shall I permit myself to come into such a position that I am obliged to handle these infernal machines. They are utterly revolting in cause, effect and appearance.’ With these words he lay down and tranquilly composed himself to sleep.

Derrick listened to his even breathing and wondered how he could possibly sleep. He knew that he would never go off himself, and his mind ran busily over the possibilities of the coming day, the great number of things that could go wrong, and those which might go right. They were to keep to the extreme right of the gorge, he repeated: he must remember that.

Yet somehow he must have gone to sleep, for there was the Professor shaking him awake. ‘It is the hour of the Rat,’ he said.

The first part of the column was already moving off towards the hills when the Professor and Derrick came from their tent. Shun Chi was waiting for them with his staff. ‘You shall come with me,’ said the Tu-chun, after greeting the Professor: he pointed to a light tank that stood drawn up immediately in front of a lorry containing all the rebel’s most valuable loot.

Shun Chi was a firm believer in leading his army from the rear: he had no intention whatever of running into any danger that he could possibly avoid, and he offered this place in his tank to the Professor as the most valuable favour that he could devise.

Derrick’s heart sank as he followed the Professor into the cramped and stuffy tank: he had thought of a great many possibilities, but not of this one. Now there would be the whole body of the army to get through if ever they were to reach their friends.

The Professor, too, looked worried; but he could not refuse without arousing the war-lord’s suspicions, and he sat down with a calm, thoughtful expression.

The tank jerked into motion with a roar: the whole column was in motion now; there was a vile smell of oil and of petrol fumes, and the infantry kicked up a cloud of dust so dense that it drifted thick through the slits and eye-pieces of the tank.

Derrick sat awkwardly on a box on the floor of the tank, wondering just what would happen to them when the engine gave out and it became obvious that the machine-guns had been doctored. He noticed that one of the guns was in position on the tank, and that a rack of bombs stood close at hand and ready. ‘The moment anyone grabs one of those,’ he thought, looking at the bombs, ‘it’s all up with us.’

Very quickly, it seemed to Derrick, they drew nearer to the hills. He could see quite well out of one of the traverse slits, and long before he expected it he saw the opening of the valley of the Three Winds. This was where the road started to climb at a very steep angle, and this was where things ought to start to happen. The gorge came nearer and nearer. He heard one of the lorries farther up the line spluttering and backfiring. He looked apprehensively at the Professor, and passed his tongue over his dry lips. The Professor smiled back at him calmly, and then leant casually over to Shun Chi, pointing to the heavy revolver at his belt.

‘That is an unusual pattern,’ he remarked. ‘May I look at it?’

‘Certainly.’ The war-lord handed it over. ‘I took it from the body of Tzu Mo. I have shot seventy-three men with it, and fourteen women.’ He smirked with pride; but he did not mention that of the seventy-three, sixty-nine had had their hands tied behind their back.

The Professor turned it over in his hands, and released the safety-catch. The front of the column was well into the gorge: Derrick heard several motors misfire and stop. One exploded, and in the silence that followed he heard the sharp crack of a rifle.

‘Seventy-three men and fourteen women,’ repeated the Professor. ‘Indeed?’ Then, without any change in his voice, he said, ‘I shall kill you, you evilly minded scoundrel, if you make the slightest movement. Put your hands up in the air at once. Derrick, take away the disgusting fellow’s weapons.’

The driver looked round to say that the engine was misfiring, and he looked straight down the barrel of the automatic that the Professor was holding in his other hand. ‘Stop the engine,’ said the Professor, ‘and come in here.’ The man obeyed, and the Professor made him creep low between himself and the war-lord to the far end, where Derrick disarmed him and tied his hands behind his back. The driver lay with his face to the ground, and there only remained the man in the turret. ‘Pull him by the leg,’ said the Professor. But when Derrick pulled there was no reply. He pulled again, harder, and the man slid gently down into the body of the tank: he had already received a bullet between the eyes.

The sound of firing was general now. All along the column the machine-guns crackled into action: each fired three or four rounds and then jammed. More than one blew up, and soon nearly all the firing was coming from the other side. A solid iron cannon-ball came trundling briskly down the line and bumped heavily into the tank: Hsien Lu’s artillery was finding the range. A spatter of rifle bullets ricochetted off the tank, making a din like a gong.

Several more bullets hit the tank, and there was a deafening bang as one whipped in and flattened itself behind Derrick’s head. Some marksman at close range was finding the slits and eye-holes.

‘I think we would be prudent to leave this place,’ said the Professor, mildly. ‘Can you see any reasonable shelter outside, Derrick?’

‘Yes, there’s a rock jutting out about twenty yards away, sir, and there is a path leading up to where Hsien Lu’s men are firing from.’

Another bullet made the inside metal ring. ‘Perhaps we had better hurry,’ said the Professor. ‘It would be intolerably vexing to be hit by our friends at this juncture.’ Derrick fumbled at the screw handles of the steel door. ‘You know,’ said the Professor. ‘I have half a mind to shoot this loathsome fellow before we leave. I have taken a prodigious dislike to him.’

‘You aren’t going to, are you, sir? He’s unarmed.’

‘No. I am not. But it would be a taste of his own medicine, and one so rarely has the opportunity of expressing one’s dislike so forcibly. It makes one feel quite bloodthirsty, you know.’ A hail of bullets struck the tank: the din was unceasing now.

‘I’ve got the door open,’ said Derrick.

‘It would be rash to go out now,’ said the Professor, shouting above the racket. ‘Perhaps you had better wave something out of the turret, as a sign.’

The noise of battle increased farther up the gorge, as the men of Hsien Lu’s army who had no rifles – the majority – put down their umbrellas, put on their hideous masks, drew their swords and rushed down the slope, shrieking out blood-curdling threats: but in the immediate neighbourhood of the tank the fire diminished. When no bullets had hit the tank for some minutes, the Professor reluctantly abandoned the idea of shooting Shun Chi and backed out of the steel door. He slammed it, and they raced for the shelter of the rock. The next moment the door flew open, and Shun Chi appeared with a bomb in his hand. He grinned savagely. They were within easy range: he was sure of them. He ripped the pin out with his teeth and flung up his arm. Instantly there was a blinding flash, a shattering explosion, and the tank lurched over in a cloud of acrid smoke. Derrick and the Professor were flung to the ground by the blast, and when they looked round the tank had already caught fire. From the shelter of the rock they looked again, but they saw no sign of Shun Chi, for there was not a square inch of the Tu-chun left.