Patrick O’Brian 3-Book Adventure Collection: The Road to Samarcand, The Golden Ocean, The Unknown Shore
back and saluted. They went in. On the threshold the Professor paused. ‘Where’s that wretched servant of mine?’ asked the Professor.
‘There he is, Ivan Petrovitch,’ said the Russian, pointing at Derrick, who had been following them. He ran back and seized Derrick by the sleeve. ‘Here he is, comrade,’ he said, hurrying Derrick along.
The three of them went into the stone house. The Professor looked at Ross and Sullivan. ‘Untie these men, Dimitri Mihailovitch,’ he said, ‘I shall adopt a more conciliatory form of questioning than has apparently been tried. One often gets better results that way.’
‘Certainly, comrade. Just as you say, Ivan Petrovitch: I am entirely of your opinion.’ The Russian busily untied the ropes, and Derrick bent to help him. Ross and Sullivan glared sullenly at them as they got up and rubbed the circulation back into their cramped limbs.
‘Now, comrade,’ said the Professor, ‘you will see how I question people. I shall play the benevolent liberator, and you will see that I get far more out of these men by apparent kindness than any amount of torture. Be so good as to fetch me some tea and a bottle of that excellent vodka. I am thirsty.’
‘Surely, Ivan Petrovitch, instantly, instantly …’ The Russian hurried away.
‘Well, here we are,’ said the Professor in English, but still speaking in a loud, authoritative voice for the benefit of anyone who might be listening outside.
‘I’m uncommonly glad to see you both,’ said Sullivan, straightening himself unsteadily.
‘Aye,’ said Ross. ‘If you’d been just a wee bit later, you would have been in time for the execution. It’s due with all due pomp in three hours’ time. It would have been quite a sight: they mentioned boiling oil and the Thousand Cuts as part of the show.’
‘We’ll have to miss it,’ whispered Derrick. ‘We’ve come to get you out.’
‘Have you though?’ said Sullivan. ‘I would never have guessed that. Would you, Ross?’
‘Why, no. I thought they had come to sell us tickets for the church bazaar.’ It was as well that he said this in an angry, whining tone, like a man who refuses to give any information, for a moment later the Russian came in with the vodka, closely followed by the others with pots of tea.
‘Thank you, comrades,’ said the Professor. ‘These may be very valuable prisoners. I believe I recognise the villain on the right. It is most important to get all they know out of them, even if it takes some time. You need not wait. While I am busy you may get all the machine-guns ready for inspection. And I shall probably wish to speak with Shun Chi again later – make all the necessary arrangements.’
‘Tell me, Professor,’ said Sullivan, when they were alone again, ‘how did you manage it?’
Professor Ayrton gave him a quick outline of the position. ‘And now,’ he said, at the end of it, ‘I am wondering what to do for the best.’
‘Yes,’ said Sullivan, thoughtfully. ‘That is the question. What do we do now?’
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,