CHAPTER XXVII
A FRIEND IN NEED
ALTHOUGH I was certain that we were rushing straight upon inevitable capture, I still had it in my mind to make a strenuous dash to get through the soldiers, and I flogged the horses vigorously, and told my companion to cling hard to her seat, for the cart swayed and bumped and jolted over the rough road in a manner that threatened to send us sprawling into the lane at every second.
“Draw that hood over your face to conceal it as much as possible, and remember if we are caught I shall address you as ‘the Princess,’” I said to my companion. “I can’t tell you now what I think of your courage.”
She did what I asked, and her features were so concealed that, had the troopers known the Princess by sight, they could not have seen it was not she by my side.
The first party numbered under a dozen men, and as we approached they made no effort to stop us, but drew their horses aside and let us pass.
“Are they following us?” I asked anxiously, for that would be the test whether my ruse was to fail or succeed.
The girl glanced back.
“Yes. They’ve closed in behind and are galloping after us.”
“Thank God for that!” I cried; and I laid the whip on the horses again till they were travelling at headlong, desperate, racing speed.
Then in the mist, as we neared the end of the lane, I saw the main body drawn up in a mass completely blocking the road. They had evidently heard us coming and were prepared for us, and they sat on their horses with their carbines levelled.
“Halt there! or we fire,” shouted someone.
But he might as well have shouted to a mountain torrent to stop, for my horses were smarting under the whip I had laid on so generously, and no driver on earth could have stayed their wild rush. Indeed, the words were scarcely out of his lips before we plunged madly right into the midst of them, scattering them to right and left and sending them cannoning one against the other in the utmost confusion.
The officer in command had formed them in a bad order for such a reckless charge as ours. The chief strength was at the sides, and in the middle, where our horses by luck carried us, the line was only two deep.
The check was thus but momentary. There was a violent shock as we dashed against the first horseman; my horses stumbled and I thought would fall. My companion and I were jerked violently forward nearly on to their backs, but in a second and scarcely with a pause they recovered, and before I could realise what had happened we were through the ranks and clear of them, with Spernow and another man close behind us and dashing along again with barely abated fury for the main road.
“Lie down on the floor of the cart; they may fire after us,” I cried. The next instant the guns rang out and the bullets came whistling past our ears. But the aim was bad, and the jolting and swaying of the cart as it lunged over the ruts helped us.
“Are you all right, Spernow?” I called over my shoulder.
“Yes, but I am alone. The two behind me were stopped in that business just now, and the other has just gone down. By God, it was splendidly done, Count. But they’re streaming after us in full cry.”
I was nearing the corner now, and remembered the sharp awkward turn with something of a shudder. I did not care which way we went; but the cattle knew the road and seemed to care, for they turned for their old stables at Liublian with a swerve that tilted the cart to such an angle that it was nothing less than a miracle that we did not upset.
It righted, however, and once on the main road we darted off on our mad flight at a speed which made the misty air sting my face with rushing damp in it.
I was right glad that we had turned that way. The men behind would be sure to think I had taken it purposely, and thus we should draw off pursuit from Christina effectually, and every mile that we could now contrive to cover meant two miles’ start for her.
The race could not continue for long. I knew that, and knew, too, how it must end unless some unforeseen accident happened; but I meant to make the most of the opportunity to lead the men as far from Christina as possible, and with this object I flogged the horses until they flew along like things possessed at such a speed that Spernow, though he was well mounted, could hardly keep up with us.
In this reckless way, up hill and down at the same headlong, breakneck pace, our limbs and lives at hazard with every bad bit of road we covered, we raced for some miles till we came to the foot of a steep hill, which, I remembered, was as long as it was steep. The horses charged at it in the same gallant, desperate way, but our pursuers had now gained on us and were closing up fast.
They had not fired another volley, and though at first I wondered at this, and could not guess the cause I was soon to learn it. When we turned in the direction of Liublian they knew that we could not escape them, and were content to ride us down or wait till we ran against some other body of troops. The hill now helped them, for the wild pace had distressed my horses until they began to falter at the steep ascent, breathing hard. I flogged them unmercifully; I would have every yard out of them that was to be got, because it meant a yard longer start for Christina; but my heart was sore for the brutes, for they had made a valiant effort.
Before we reached the crest of the hill the troops were up with us, and the leader, pointing ahead, called to me to surrender.
“You had better give up the struggle, Count Benderoff,” he said, riding abreast of me. “We have another body of men at the top there.”
But I was fighting for yards, and my answer was to cut the horses desperately with the whip, so that they sprang forward again with a last frantic effort. The man rode to the nearest horse, and, drawing his revolver, placed it close to the animal’s head.
“I shall be sorry to fire, but if you don’t stop I shall have no alternative,” he called.
“Shall we yield?” I said, turning to the little Broumoff, who had maintained her seat unflinchingly, and pretending to consult her, while I whispered, “Keep your face well concealed.”
She nodded, and I drew the horses to a standstill.
“We yield only under protest,” I said.
“I am glad you spared me an unpleasant job,” replied the officer, putting his revolver away, and saluting the “Princess.” “Your animals have made a magnificent struggle, but you have been racing all the time toward certain capture, Count Benderoff. Escape from the first moment was hopeless.” We waited then in silence while his men drew up and surrounded us. “Will you drive Her Highness into Liublian?”
All the horses were greatly distressed, and we waited a few minutes for them to recover, and then went forward at a slow pace. I had been anxious to hurry before, but now I kept my animals at the walk, and halted more than once on the steep hill. It was my cue now to waste as much time as possible before the identity of my companion should be discovered, and I thought with glee of the long start which Christina would have.
At the top of the hill the other soldiers met us, and the two officers spoke together for a minute, discussing the incidents of our capture. Then we went forward again at a very slow pace.
We reached Liublian an hour and a half after leaving the homestead; and there again fortune favoured us. No one was there to recognise my companion, and we had to push on to General Kolfort’s house, still at a slow pace, for I declared my horses were so beaten they could not travel beyond a walk. I managed to occupy another hour over the drive, and with this start, which meant nearly five hours to Christina, I felt hopeful she would reach the frontier safely. My ruse had succeeded far beyond my best hopes.
As we drew up at the General’s house, I smiled to myself as I pictured his fury at the discovery; but he was not there. He had returned hastily to Sofia, I overheard; but the place was packed with troops, and he had left some drastic orders for our disposal.
I helped the plucky little Broumoff from the cart with a very deferential air and led her into the house, Spernow in close attendance. They took us into a room on the ground floor, where three officers awaited us, one of them being Captain Wolasky, who, to my surprise, gave no response to my start of recognition.
A chair was placed for the “Princess,” and she was shrewd enough to seat herself so that the light of the lamp left her face in the shadow. I could have laughed at the comedy underlying the situation, but, assuming a tone of hot indignation, I exclaimed:
“I demand to know the reason why I am subjected to this infamous treatment! What is the meaning of this arrest?”
The man in the centre of the three looked up angrily:
“It is not in my instructions to give you any such needless information, sir. You must be fully aware of what you have done. You are the Count Benderoff?”
“I am the Hon. Gerald Winthrop, as well as the Count Benderoff, and a British subject.”
“Englishmen are much too prone to meddle in matters that don’t concern them, and must be prepared to take the consequences,” he answered drily.
“There may also be consequences for those who meddle with them,” I returned hotly; and with the object of provoking him into a personal dispute so as to waste more time, I poured out a volume of protests and objections, together with loud and angry demands for a specific charge; and in this way prolonged the wrangle for many minutes.
He ordered me at length to be silent, under threat of packing me out of the room, and then he turned to the “Princess.”
“I much regret, Princess, to have to put you to inconvenience, but my instructions are imperative. You will have to remain in this house for the night; but arrangements have been made for your personal comfort, and to-morrow General Kolfort’s intention will be explained to you.”
She made no reply other than to bow, as if in acquiescence.
“I must ask you to remove your disguise,” he said next, just as I was hoping she would even then escape recognition. She made no attempt to comply with the request, and it was repeated in a sharper tone.
She turned to me as if to ask what to do, and, seeing the end had come, I broke in:
“This is another of your ridiculous proceedings,” I said warmly. “Not only am I personally treated in this outrageous manner, but, because I am seen driving on the highway, you must needs conclude that the Princess Christina is with me. It is shameful.”
“What do you mean, sir?” cried the officer hastily.
“Simply that this young lady is no more the Princess Christina than you are. You may as well draw your hood back to show the mistake,” I added to Mademoiselle Broumoff, who did so then, to the complete consternation of all the three officers. I could have smiled at their utter bewilderment.
“Where is the Princess Christina?” asked the chief sternly.
“We are at least as anxious as you can be on that point,” I answered. “If your men make blunders of this kind, and don’t know the difference between her Highness and her friends, who can tell where she is?”
“You will find it a hazardous work to play tricks on us!” he cried furiously.
“I play tricks on you, indeed! It is you who seem to be amusing yourselves with us,” I said, with an insolent laugh. “But you will have to answer for it, I promise you.”
“Silence!” he shouted; and I shrugged my shoulders and threw up my hands in response.
He muttered some hurried instructions to Captain Wolasky, who left the room to carry them out. I glanced at my watch. It was a quarter to ten; three hours since Christina had started, and I calculated that, if all had gone well, she would be at least two stages to the frontier, and beyond hope of pursuit by any troops that could now be despatched after her. For aught else I cared nothing.
I edged close to Spernow, and managed to whisper to him:
“If you get a chance try to steal off, you two, in the confusion;” and just as I had said this Captain Wolasky came back with a file of soldiers, and the officer at the table ordered them to lead me away.
“You have your orders, Captain Wolasky,” he said in sharp, peremptory tones, and I was led away, Wolasky following me.
“I RODE BETWEEN TWO TROOPERS.”—
He took me out through the hall, now thronged with soldiers, to the front of the house, where a small troop of horsemen were drawn up; and then, halting at a spot where the light of a lamp fell full upon his face, he looked at me with a peculiar expression in his eyes which I did not understand, and said in an unnecessarily harsh, strident tone:
“You have played us too many tricks for me to dare to take your parole not to escape, sir; and if you are treated with indignity you have yourself to blame for it. Bind the prisoner’s hands behind him!” he said roughly to a couple of men near; and a murmur of approval came from the troopers standing around, mingled with a good deal of strong Russian.
“I protest against the outrage!” I shouted, and commenced to struggle. It was useless, of course, and I was held, and my hands fastened behind me. “Where am I being taken? I demand to know.”
“I’ll demand you,” said Wolasky, in a voice of passion; and, seizing me, he pushed me forward to where a horse stood riderless.
“Excuse this farce,” he whispered; “but it is necessary;” and he covered the whisper with a loud imprecation and abuse of me. I was so astonished that I forgot to resist. “Struggle,” he whispered again; and then I set to work to play my part with a will, and fought and struggled so desperately as they were forcing me to mount, that the Captain appeared to lose his temper, and struck at me, taking care, however, that the blow spent itself in the air.
“Watch him,” he ordered, “and at the least sign of treachery, shoot him like a dog. It doesn’t matter whether he reaches Tirnova alive or dead, so long as he does reach there;” and again some of the soldiers clustered about, laughed and oathed in evident glee.
I rode between two troopers, whose horses were fastened to mine by light chains attached to the bits, while each man held a rein; and, as we started in this alarming fashion, some ruffian shouted after us to keep the “damned English dog safe on the chain.” “Tie his legs under the horse’s belly, and he’ll keep on, dead or alive,” cried another; and a burst of ribald laughter followed, in which those about me joined.
In this fashion we rode through Liublian, struck off to the right, and soon after began the ascent of a steep hilly country, which made the travelling very slow. We moved at no more than a walking pace all the time, making, as I judged, about four miles an hour; but we kept on all through the night, and did not halt until the sun was up, and we reached a small village, where we dismounted and had breakfast.
I was overpowered with fatigue, and so soon as I had eaten the food brought to me I fell into a deep sleep. In about three hours I was awakened and the march resumed. The sun was overpowering, and towards midday a halt was called under some trees. Here again I slept, and when, in the late afternoon, I awoke, I was vastly refreshed, and began to think about the chances of escape.
I had been treated all the time with the sternest measures. The Captain did not come near me; and, when we halted, my legs were bound before my hands were liberated for me to take any food. The country was of course entirely strange, and when I asked a question of the men on either side of me they ordered me with an oath to be silent.
When the sun was getting low in the afternoon Captain Wolasky reined up to my side, and, pointing to a road we passed, he said in a jeering, insulting tone, but with the same expression I had noticed on his face the night before:
“That’s the road you’d like to take, Mr. Count Englishman; feast your eyes on it, for you won’t see it again, I promise you. See, it leads to Sofia over yonder;” and he pointed far away over the hills to where the sun’s rays were shining on some distant buildings.
I looked eagerly enough, for I thought I understood him, and I began to pay special heed to the road along which they took me.
“It’s prettier scenery than Tirnova,” he cried, with another loud jeering laugh, as he went on again to lead the party.
After that we travelled on a fairly level road for about two miles, when another halt was called for the soldiers’ evening meal. My legs were tied as before, and a good meal brought to me, and in moving to put away the cup and platter I noticed that my legs were fastened so loosely that I could slip them out in a moment.
The dusk had fallen, and the mist risen, so that the whole party were enveloped in gloom, and I heard the Captain say to the men, who were sitting at a short distance from me:
“We’ve a long night ride, and I shan’t halt again before dawn. You’d better snatch an hour’s sleep.”
I saw in a moment that the whole thing had been arranged cleverly for my escape, and that the Captain himself had told me in his insulting tone the road I must make for. I threw myself back and pretended to sleep, and the man on guard over me—a fat, heavy fellow, whom the fatigue of the ride had already worn out—first satisfied himself that I was as sound asleep as I was when we had halted previously, and then curled himself up to follow my example.
With the greatest care I drew my legs out of their bonds and sat up. The men were breathing heavily in deep slumber, while the fellow close to me was snoring vigorously. I glanced around, and just above me on the road I should take was the Captain’s horse tethered alone. He was by far the fleetest and best-blooded animal in the troop, and once on his back I could laugh at pursuit. That he had been left there was due to no accident, I was convinced; and stealthily, inch by inch, holding my breath in my excitement, I began to crawl toward him.
I reached him unnoticed, and, stroking his neck, I cast off the tether, and led him away for a few paces along the soft turf. All was dead silence in the little camp of sleepers, and in the murky mist I could see nothing of them and they could see nothing of me.
I led the horse until I reckoned to be out of earshot, and then mounted and set off at a canter, keeping on the turf as long as possible.
Suddenly a loud shout behind me from the men announced that the fact of my escape had been discovered, and, driving my heels into the horse’s side, I dashed off at a rapid gallop for the road which Captain Wolasky had said was the road to Sofia. I found it without difficulty, of course, and paused a moment at the turning to listen for signs of pursuit.
I could hear nothing, but resolved to make the best of my start, and galloped off at a pace which showed the splendid quality of the animal under me.