THE two soldiers mistook me vastly if they thought I was going to allow myself to be caught in this way like a rat in a trap, when the trap was a mile long, and the door of it guarded so loosely.
I had backed my horse to prevent the man on foot catching hold of the bridle-rein, and, wheeling round swiftly, I plunged my hand into my pocket, drew out my revolver, and, before the second soldier could guess my intention, I sent a bullet into his horse’s head.
He dropped like a stone, sending his rider flying on to the road, his carbine, which he had levelled at me, going off in the air as he fell. The other made a rush at me, but I covered him with the pistol.
“How dare you try to stop me on State business?” I cried in a voice of thunder. “Another step and I’ll blow your brains out.”
He pulled up short enough at that, and I clapped my heels into the horse’s flanks, and was off like the wind. He was a good beast, in excellent condition and very fresh, and more than fit to carry me the six miles which I reckoned lay between me and the frontier. The distance was so short that I had no need to spare him, and, as I had over three-quarters of a mile start, I did not doubt that I could win a race in which my safety and probably my life were the stakes.
I was in luck, too, for the soldier before dismounting had thrust back his carbine into its leathern shoe, and in among his saddle-furniture I found a reserve supply of ammunition.
Turning in my saddle I saw that the three soldiers had passed the two with whom I had had the tussle, and were galloping after me at full speed, striving might and main to lessen the distance between us, and I knew, of course, that old Kolfort had given them his most imperative command to overtake and capture me at all costs.
But a few minutes of this hot work showed me that I was better mounted than they, and that I was gaining. They perceived this, too, and resorted to a tactic which gave me some uneasiness. One after another they began firing their carbines, not of course at me, for I was hopelessly out of range, but in the hope of attracting any other patrol parties who might chance to be in the neighbourhood.
This was by no means to my taste. It suggested that they knew there were more troops about, and while I dug my heels into my willing horse’s sides, and urged him with my voice to still greater speed, I cast ahead many anxious looks.
A minute later, too, I was thrown into a state of much perplexity as to my road. About half a mile in front the road forked, and I did not know whether my way lay to the right or left, and had no time to consult the plan of route. It would have been fatal to hesitate, however, and I was going to leave my horse to settle the matter for himself, trusting that he might have been stabled somewhere near the frontier and would thus make for that point, when a very disquieting fact decided me.
A couple of troopers were riding at a quick trot along the road to the left, and coming in my direction. They were at a considerable distance, and I should reach the junction long before them. I determined to trust to fortune and take the other road.
They soon caught sight of me, and as the men pursuing me kept up their fire, the two in front hustled their horses into a gallop, evidently thinking something was wrong, and intending to cut me off and stop me.
They saw me turn into the right road, checked their horses, leapt into the fields, and came galloping across to intercept me. This was not practicable, however, because the point for which they were making was nearer to me by the road than to them by the fields, and after they had galloped half across the fields they called to me to stop. Perceiving my advantage, my answer was to urge my horse forward, till he was straining every nerve and flying over the ground like the gallant beast he was.
Then one of them reined up suddenly, and being well within range, he sat as steady as a rock on his horse, levelled his piece, and fired. Fortunately for me he was quite as bad a marksman as the majority of such men are, and the bullet whistled harmlessly by me as I dashed past at the same headlong speed. His companion had, however, come much nearer, and when he found he could not intercept me, he too halted and fired after me in his turn.
He also missed me, but I felt my horse give a violent change in his stride, and immediately begin to slacken speed. I looked around anxiously and found, to my intense alarm and consternation, that he was wounded, and had gone dead lame on his off hind leg.
For the first time I was inclined to despair. Behind me were five well-mounted men eagerly bent on my capture, and before me lay at least three miles of unknown road—even supposing that I was riding in the right direction—while my horse was already beginning to stagger in his stride. But my blood was up. I would not be taken alive, and I resolved to fight so long as I could lift a finger in self-defence.
Flight was now out of the question, however. Wounded as he was, my horse could not have carried me to the frontier had I been able to ease his pace, which was of course impossible. I could fight better on foot than on the back of a wounded horse, moreover, and I began to think desperately of my best course.
I drew out the trooper’s carbine, put the ammunition into my pockets, and looked about for the most likely spot for a last stand. About half a mile ahead of me I spied a peasant’s cottage half in ruins, lying a little distance from the lane. Just the place for me! I urged my horse to the last effort, and he answered gallantly, as if he understood how dire was my need. But he was reeling badly when we reached the spot I was heading for; and the two men behind raised a glad shout as they saw me pull up, slip from the horse, and make a dash, carbine in hand, for the cover of the ruined cottage.
They both fired at me as I ran, a cowardly act that filled me with rage. Hitherto I had tried to avoid shedding blood, but I sent that thought to the winds now as I sprang behind the shelter of the welcome walls and turned to settle accounts with them. Armed as I was, I believed I could for a time hold the place against a party twice as strong as that which was coming against me, and I was so mad in my rage and disappointment, that I swore I would shoot without mercy any living soul that came within range.
The two soldiers came galloping up to the point where my horse had now fallen, and they stood chuckling at the successful shot which had wounded him.
I singled out one of them—the man who, as I thought, had fired the fatal shot—took deliberate aim, and fired. He dropped like a stone, and his companion turned instantly and scuttled back to meet the other three, who were now closing up fast. I smiled grimly as I thrust in another cartridge, and was turning to look for the next quarry when my heart gave another throb of dismay.
The place seemed alive with troops; and I saw another horseman coming from the opposite direction along the lane towards the cottage, and I did not doubt that he was the advance guard of a stronger patrol following behind.
The four men had halted out of range and were talking excitedly together, and I was thus at liberty to watch the newcomer, whose movements puzzled me considerably. When he heard the shot from my gun, and probably saw the smoke, instead of dashing forward to join the men threatening me, or falling back upon any party behind, he scuttled off the road and concealed himself in a small clump of trees, from which he seemed to be scanning the cottage where I lay. No trooper out on patrol would have acted so, and I concluded promptly that he was in some such condition as myself, and as eager as I to escape the attentions of the soldiers.
Could it be possible that he was a friend? The mere thought of such a chance in my desperate position filled me with excited pleasure, and, stepping forward, I stood so that the sun’s rays fell right on me as I faced him, and I waved my hand. I thought he made some motion with his hand in reply, but he stood in the shadow of the trees, and was too far off for me to see him clearly. Then I waved my hand again, beckoning him to come to me, and had time to do no more before the four soldiers began to move, and I had to step back under shelter and watch them.
Apparently they had resolved to make a dash for the cottage, in the endeavour to capture me with a rush. But they should never reach the place alive. I calculated that I should have time for two shots with the carbine and half-a-dozen more with my revolver, and if I could not empty the four saddles my hand and eye and nerve had lost their cunning indeed.
They crossed into the field, and seeing that there were no windows in the end of the building from which I could fire upon them, they kept out of range until they were in a line with the end, and then began their advance. A shrewd enough plan, had I been a fool to be caught unawares, or a coward afraid to expose myself to their rickety fire. But I was neither, and creeping out at the front I was in a position to take a kneeling shot at them before they started the advance. I don’t think they even saw me, for there was a relic of what had once been a palisade projecting from the end of the house, which gave an excellent cover, and I waited till they were well within range before I fired. One of them fell forward, and I had reloaded and was taking careful aim for my second shot, when with a loud shout they pulled up hastily and made ready to fire in their turn.
I didn’t give them time to shoot before I fired again, and again brought one of them out of his saddle. This reduced the number to two, and neither of them had any relish for the business. They discharged their pieces at random, wheeled about suddenly, and galloped back faster than they had advanced. I had given them an excellent object-lesson in the value of good shooting, and I stood watching them in moody curiosity to see what they would do next.
Then I heard the sound of a galloping horse from the other end of the cottage, and when I ran back quickly to learn the cause I had indeed a joyful surprise. It was the horseman I had seen in the distance.
“Took you in the rear, Count,” said a deep voice I knew so well; and the next instant Zoiloff and I stood hand-locked, his stern face aglow with pleasure and I with more delight in my heart than either words or eyes could tell. Never could a friend have been so welcome, and none more welcome than Zoiloff. I was so moved that I could not even find words to ask the news which I was burning to learn. He saw this, and said:
“All is well with the Princess. She is safe at Nish, waiting for you.” I wrung his hand afresh in my delight.
“Never did beleaguered force hear better news,” I said.
“The beleaguered force is doubled now,” he answered, smiling. “Though I can’t say it seems to need strengthening, judging by results. But now we had best be off, for the country between here and the frontier is like a rabbit-warren with the swarming troops. We shall probably have to hide, for we can’t hold this place till nightfall, and I very much doubt if we can get through the pass in daylight.”
“I have a permit that will carry us through,” I said; “but I have no horse to carry it on.”
“I’ll soon mend that,” he answered, and without a word he mounted again and set off at a gallop toward the two soldiers, who stood together holding the horses of their wounded comrades by the bridles. What followed was a gleam of farce in the tragedy that surrounded us. The men seeing him coming were instantly filled with alarm, for my work had told its tale well enough on their nerves, and after making a show of resistance and firing their carbines at him with scarcely a pretence of taking aim, they plunged their spurs into their animals and shot away trying to lead the other horses with them. But Zoiloff gained at every stride, and when he fired his revolver after them they cast off the led horses and themselves fled for their lives in sheer scatterbrained fright. He had no difficulty in capturing one of the horses, and came cantering back to me smiling and victorious.
“What rabbits,” he said contemptuously.
“What a happy thought of yours,” I replied, as I mounted, and we stole off, keeping the cottage between us and the still flying soldiers.
“Shall we make a dash for it and risk everything; or shall we try and hide? Those curs will soon be after us with a larger pack in full cry, and we may find it difficult to hide.”
“We’ll push straight for the frontier,” I answered, “and trust to old Kolfort’s signature to get us through. The patrols seem to be in very small numbers, and if there’s any trouble we can show fight. But now tell me what has happened, for I am on fire with impatience to hear everything.”
“Happily there’s little enough to tell, for by some means we managed to escape all interference, and under your fellow Markov’s guidance we reached the frontier without let or question. There was plenty of uneasiness after we left you as to whether we should be pursued; but thanks, I suppose, to your ruse, we were not followed, and the only trouble afterwards was in the frontier pass. It was only watched in the loosest manner in the world, and as Markov knew his business thoroughly he had us all past the lookout before they had even a suspicion of our presence. It was only a matter of a quick gallop then for a bit and we got through. I went on to Nish with the Princess, who was much fatigued of course, and it was at her urgent request, when you did not come yesterday, that I returned to see if I could hear any tidings of you. My uniform saved me from any trouble, and I was intending to go to Sofia, when I heard the firing and stopped to see what it meant, I saw you stand out in the sun glare just now, and though I could not definitely recognise you at such a distance I made a guess it was you, and rode up on the chance.”
“You left the Princess well?”
“In all save her anxiety for you; and that we may hope to remove in a few hours now. But how have you fared?”
I told him the story, and he listened with many an approving smile and nod, looking stern and serious at the story of the Countess Bokara’s suicide, and laughing at the trick I had served old Kolfort.
“After all that, we are not going to be stopped now,” he said at the close; “although we shall have need of clear heads and perhaps quick hands before we are through. But we shall know soon. You see that narrow road climbing the hill yonder, with that small station-house about half-way up. Well, the frontier line runs close ahead of that;” and he pointed to the spot. “Hullo! who comes?” he added a minute later, as we turned a bend of the road and came upon two or three horse-soldiers.
We were riding at a brisk canter, and did not rein up until they challenged us. Seeing Zoiloff’s uniform they saluted him, but the leader turned to me and asked for my permit.
“I am on special service,” I said quietly, producing the permit. He read it, returned it to me, drew back for us to proceed, and we cantered on without having wasted a minute.
“You had your wits about you when you got that paper,” said Zoiloff, laughing. “If those fellows had only known what that special service was, we should have had a brush with them. Let’s hope that those at the barrier will be as easily satisfied.”
“It’s a nasty-looking road,” said I, when we reached the foot of the long tortuous hill. “We’d better spare the cattle in case of a bother,” and we pulled up to a walking pace. I scanned the station-house closely as we came in sight of it.
“I wish to Heaven it was night. We could steal up that path there,” said Zoiloff, pointing to the right of the road. “That’s how Markov managed it. It leads out again about twenty or thirty yards on this side of the station-house yonder, and we rattled through at a gallop.”
“How many men are stationed there, do you think?”
“I couldn’t see more than half-a-dozen or so all told this morning when I passed, and I stopped intentionally and chatted with the officer in command. But in a narrow place like this six men can do a lot.”
“I see there’s a telegraph-wire. I hope the General hasn’t managed to send a message,” I returned uneasily.
“I should think not, judging by the ease with which those men below there were satisfied. But I mean to get through. Once past the station-house, and we haven’t more than two or three hundred yards to gallop before we’re in Servia. But I confess I never thought of the telegraph,” and Zoiloff shook his head.
“Well, we’ll try the papers first and the pistols afterwards, in case of need. And they won’t find it easy to stop us.”
But as we drew closer I saw what Zoiloff meant about the ease with which a handful of resolute men could hold such a spot.
“They’ve turned out to receive us,” he said, as we saw an officer posting men to block the road. “He won’t attempt to stop me, I expect, and while you’re showing him your permit I’ll edge past and try to get the men out of their order so as to leave a gap for you to dash through. Then I’ll follow you, and they may hesitate about firing on me.”
“Very well; but we can’t make much of a plan. Probably I may find it best to appear to yield at first and then wait for the moment to make the rush;” and with that we rode on slowly, watching the men ahead of us closely, but laughing and chatting together as though the last thought in our heads was of any chance of being stopped. And we were both laughing heartily as at some joke when the officer in command met Zoiloff with a salute and turned to address me.
“Your permit, sir, if you please,” he said courteously, but as I thought with a glance of suspicion.
“Certainly,” I replied, and I took it out and handed it to him. As he read it Zoiloff pushed forward and entered into conversation with the men. There were only five of them, making six with the officer, as Zoiloff had said, and they were on foot. I saw him push his horse between the two at the end of the short line, and then as he chatted he coolly turned his horse broadside on the road, thus making a big gap. It was cleverly done, and he sat there saying something which made the men laugh.
“This mentions no name, sir,” said the officer, looking up from the paper. “May I inquire your name?”
“Certainly. I am the Hon. Gerald Winthrop, an Englishman.” The reply perplexed him.
“An Englishman? And on special service for General Kolfort? I don’t wish to appear impertinent, but have you another name?”
“I am also a Roumanian Count—Count Benderoff.”
“Ah!” His tone told me at once that he had had some instructions about me, and I began to prepare for emergencies. “I am placed in an awkward position, Count, but I’m afraid I cannot allow you to pass.”
“My business is very urgent, lieutenant.”
“The delay will probably be only a brief one. I am expecting a messenger from General Kolfort, and I thought you were probably from him. No doubt the moment he arrives you will be at liberty to proceed. But you’ll understand my position.”
“The consequences of stopping me may be serious.”
“So may be those of allowing you to pass, Count. But in any case I have no alternative.”
“But I have ridden straight from General Kolfort himself, who handed me the permit personally.”
“My instructions have come over the wires, and within the last few minutes; and they are imperative not to allow you to pass until the General himself or those he is sending shall arrive. If you will dismount I will try to make the delay as little irksome as possible, though one’s resources in a God-forsaken place like this are not abundant.”
“Do you mean you wish to arrest me?” I asked quickly.
“Certainly not. You are at liberty to return if you please; my instructions are merely not to allow you to pass the frontier.”
“Quiet, mare!” I called to my horse, which was fidgeting and plunging restlessly, as I touched her secretly with my heel, making it difficult for him to lay his hand on the bridle. Then I laughed as if the thing were a joke, and I gave Zoiloff a look. He understood it, and began to edge his horse so as to leave room for me to pass.
“It’s very ridiculous,” I said to the officer, who had drawn a little away from me, “but I suppose there’s no help for it; and in any case I shall be glad of some breakfast.”
“I shall be delighted to be your host,” he replied, without a suspicion of my intention; and he called to one of the men to come and hold my horse.
This made the gap in their rank larger than ever; and, causing my horse to fidget and strain at the bit, I suddenly slackened the reins, plunged my heels into her flanks, and darted away up the hill as fast as she could gallop.
“Hallo! She’s run away with him!” said Zoiloff; and he wheeled round and dashed after me.
It was some seconds before the officer realised how we had fooled him. Then we heard the order given to fire after us, and the next instant the report of the guns rang out, echoing and re-echoing among the crags on either side of the narrow gorge.
The bullets whistled by me; and, glancing back, I saw that Zoiloff was following all right. A second volley was fired, but not until we had already passed the frontier; and I did not draw rein till I was nearly to the crest of the hill and within sight of the Servian station-house over the crest. Then I found that Zoiloff was not so close to me as he should have been, and I halted to wait for him. Below him I saw the officer and two of the men had mounted and were in hot pursuit.
Zoiloff was leaning forward curiously in the saddle, sitting very loosely, and his horse could hardly move. I rode back to him, filled with alarm.
He looked up as I neared, and I saw his face was bloodless. He tried to wave to me to go forward, but his hand fell listlessly.
“Are you wounded, friend?” I asked.
“No—at least not much. Go on!” he said, his voice weak and faint; and his horse was staggering so that I thought it would fall. Meanwhile the men behind were coming up quickly.
“Come on to my horse,” I cried, my heart sick with pain and fear for him, as I rode to his side and tried to lift him off. But at that moment his horse went down heavily, and only with the greatest difficulty did I save Zoiloff from an ugly fall.
In a moment I dismounted. There was no time now to mount with him on my horse, so I laid him under cover of his own fallen animal and turned with bitter rage in my heart to check the men behind us, as well as to revenge the hurt of my staunch friend, who had given himself to save me.
Snatching the carbine from my saddle, I knelt down, and, firing over the prone horse, I aimed at the foremost rider, who fell in a huddled mass on to his horse’s shoulder and then dropped to the ground.
I was ramming home another cartridge as the other two halted and took aim. I crouched under shelter of the horse, and felt him quiver and kick feebly as one of the bullets plugged into him; and then the men came dashing forward again.
But not for many strides, for my second shot sent the officer toppling out of his saddle heavily to the rough road. I loaded again instantly, for the sight of Zoiloff’s death-white face and the thought of his wound maddened me so that I could have killed a dozen men in cold blood to avenge him.
The remaining trooper had little stomach for any further fight, however, and he reined up and stood irresolute.
“Go back, if you care for your life,” I called to him. “We are on Servian ground, and you have no right to pursue me.” He was afraid for his own skin to come on, and yet afraid for duty’s sake to turn back, and I saw him open his carbine at the breech to reload.
I did not give him time to do that, however, before I fired. I missed the man, but struck his weapon, shattering it in his hand. This was much more convincing than any words, and, recognising his unarmed helplessness, he wheeled his horse round and rode off back down the hill.
I had won; but what a price had the victory cost!
I bent over my wounded friend, my heart sick with my grief.
“Fly!” he whispered. Wounded sorely as he was, his thoughts were all for me and none for himself.
“There is no need, my dear friend. There’s no one to follow us. Can you bear for me to lift you on to my horse? We’re safe.”
“I’m glad. I’m not hurt much,” he whispered, trying to smile.
I lifted him in my arms, and, drawing my horse to a stone by the side of the road, managed to mount with him; and then, saving him all in my power from the jolting of the horse, I walked up the rest of the hill and over to the Servian station-house.
The men turned out to meet us.
“My friend is sorely wounded,” said I.
“I heard the firing, but my orders are not to interfere,” said the officer in command.
“The outrage was committed on Servian territory,” I replied.
“I have strict orders not to cause any trouble with the Bulgarians just at present,” he said, as if by way of apologetic explanation of his not having come to my aid. “We don’t inquire too closely into what is done east of the station-house.”
“Can you give me a place where my friend can rest?”
He looked uneasy at the question and hesitated.
“Can’t he bear any further journey?”
“He is badly wounded, sir,” I returned, with some indignation.
“I can do better than give him a bed here. My men shall carry him on a litter down to the village at the foot of the hill, where there is a priest who knows something of surgery, and he can get medical aid.”
“As quick as you can, for God’s sake!” I said.
Poor Zoiloff had fainted, and lay helpless in my arms, his head resting on my shoulder.
The men lifted him gently off the horse, the litter was brought out, and I helped to place him in it.
“I’m afraid I needn’t ask for his papers,” said the officer, as the men moved off.
I showed him my English passport, as clearing the way for me, and, with a mere glance at it, he returned it.
“I hope you will have better news than I fear of your friend,” he said warmly.
I could not answer him; I was too broken with this new trouble. I followed the mournful little procession, and I am not ashamed to say that as I watched it and gazed at the white face in the litter my eyes were more than once half blinded by tears.