Роберт Артур - The Mystery of the Silver Spider

“But nobody is listening to it!” Rudy cried in glee. “Everybody in the city has heard the bell and is out in the streets to find out what it means. Look at the crowds. And many of them are going toward the palace. I wish we could see what is happening there.”

“Look!” Jupiter exclaimed. “The guards have broken through the gates. They’re coming up!”

They all turned toward the stairs. Scarlet-uniformed guards were indeed racing up the stairs. They reached the last gate, just outside the bell-chamber, and rattled it menacingly.

“Open in the name of the Regent!” an officer shouted. “You’re all under arrest!”

“Then arrest us!” Rudy cried defiantly. “Come on, Pete, we can ring the bell until they get through.”

He and Pete seized the rope again and began to swing the heavy clapper. Again the bell sounded its wild cry of alarm over the city, seeming to urge every Varanian to action. A few feet away the guards were using sledge hammers and crowbars on the gate.

For five more minutes the boys made the bell of Prince Paul ring its appeal to Varania. Then with a clang the gate went down and the guards swept in and overpowered them.

“Now,” the furious officer in charge bawled at them, “you’re going to get what you deserve!”

THE BOYS did not resist as they were hustled down the long flight of stairs. At the bottom more guards formed a tight ring around them and hurried the boys out the side entrance of the church. There were still people in the streets, but not as many now. They stared curiously, and moved away only when the guards shouted at them.

The guards marched the boys along a couple of blocks to an old stone building. Inside, two officers in blue police uniforms greeted them.

“Criminals against the state!” the guard officer snapped out. “Put them in cells until Duke Stefan sends orders as to their fate.”

The police hesitated.

“The bell of Prince Paul — ” one said.

“Regent’s orders!” the guard barked. “Move.”

The police officer gave in. He led the way down a hall to where four iron-barred cells stood empty. Pete and Rudy were thrust into one, and Jupe and Bob into another facing it. The cell doors clanged shut.

“Guard them carefully or you will suffer for it!” cried the guard. “Now we must get back to the palace to inform the Regent.”

They were left alone. Rudy sank down on one of the two cots in his cell. “Well, they’ve got us now,” he called wearily. “We did our best. I wonder what is happening at the palace.”

Jupiter sat down on his cot. “We’ve been up all night,” he said. “I guess the only thing we can do is rest while we wait. However, the bell as an alarm signal — ”

What he was going to say was lost in a great yawn. He rubbed his eyes. Then he looked. Bob was fast asleep. Across the corridor Pete and Rudy weren’t listening. They were asleep, too. When Jupiter started to say something, however, he liked to finish it. So he continued, even though no one was listening.

“The bell as an alarm signal is hundreds of years old,” he muttered, falling back on the cot. “Much older than radio or television. In Constantinople, after the Turks captured it in 1453, the use of bells was strictly forbidden lest they should provide a signal to the people for revolt and — and — ”

For once he did not finish. He was asleep, too.

Bob had lost his footing in the dark, rushing waters of the drains beneath Denzo. He was being swept along, jostled and bumped against the sides, while Jupiter shouted at him from far away, “Bob, Bob!”

Bob struggled to stand up. Somebody grabbed his arms. Jupiter’s voice shouted in his ear. “Bob! Wake up! Wake up!”

Bob blinked sleepily, and yawned. With an effort he sat up. Jupe, looking a bit sleepy himself, was grinning at him.

“Bob! We have a visitor. Look who it is.”

Jupe stepped aside and Bob saw Bert Young smiling at him.

“Good work, Bob!” Bert exclaimed, stepping forward and giving his hand an enormous squeeze. “All of you, it was terrific! We were worried and I do mean worried when you stopped contacting us. But it looks as if you accounted for yourselves far better than we ever figured you could.”

Bob blinked at him. Then he asked, “Prince Djaro? Is he safe?”

“Couldn’t be finer. He’s on his way here now,” Bert Young said. “Duke Stefan and the Prime Minister and all the guards who were in their private pay are under arrest. Rudy’s father has just been released from jail and appointed prime minister again. But I’m sure you want to know what happened after you started ringing that bell like crazy, don’t you?”

They did. Rudy and Pete crowded into the cell while the police officers stood outside, smiling at them. There wasn’t a palace guard officer in sight. Bert Young made his story as brief as he could. That morning — it was now after noon — he and the United States Ambassador had gone to the palace to try to find out what had become of Pete, Jupiter and Bob. The gates had been locked and palace guards refused them entrance.

They were still arguing with the guards when the bell of Prince Paul began its ominous ringing. The first sounds had struck everyone dumb with surprise. Then, as the ringing continued, people began to gather in the street outside the palace gates.

The crowd grew and grew until the square opposite the palace was jammed with people. Men began shouting for Prince Djaro. The guards were helpless to drive them away. Then someone climbed high on a gate post and shouted to the crowd that Prince Djaro must be in danger, that the bell could mean nothing else, and that they must rescue him.

“Then I got into the act.” Bert Young grinned. “I know some Varanian so I started shouting, too. ‘Save Prince Djaro! Down with Duke Stefan!’ Things like that. By now the crowd was pretty worked up and they surged against those gates and broke them open with a terrific snap. People poured in and I was with them. I made contact with the man who first started shouting, and he told me he was a Minstrel.

“We led the way into the palace. That mob just swept the guards aside as if they were matchsticks. My companion, Lonzo — ”

“That’s my brother!” Rudy interjected proudly. “So he escaped, too!”

“Yes. And he knew the way to Prince Djaro’s apartments. We led the mob that way and when the guards saw what was happening, they changed sides pretty quick. Most of them didn’t give any more trouble. We got Djaro free, and he took charge like a real prince. He ordered the guards to arrest Duke Stefan and the Prime Minister. Those rascals tried to hide, but they were caught.

“It took some time to run down all of the disloyal guards, but the rest, who were always secretly loyal to the prince, did it. Prince Djaro is busy making sure all the plotters are arrested, but he’ll be here as soon as he can. By the way, it seems that your near-collision with Djaro’s car in California was no accident either. It was part of the plot to get rid of the prince.”

A shout in the corridor interrupted him.

“The Prince!” the cry went up. “Long live the Prince!”

Then Djaro himself appeared. He was pale, but his eyes glowed. He entered the cell, and they all squeezed back to make room for him.

“My American friends!” he exclaimed, and embraced each of them. “You saved the day. Ringing the bell of Prince Paul was an inspiration. How did you come to think of it?”

“Jupiter did it,” Rudy spoke up. “We were so busy thinking of radio and television and newspapers as the only way to get a message to the people, we never thought of the bell.”