The Mercenary Part 7

How far is it from here to the bridge?"

"Four hundred yards! But four hundred yards, of which at least a hundred are down a narrow street to the bridge-head, supposing the pigs are on the watch, are as bad as four miles. You know what it is to ride through a press of people. You and your troopers would be pulled from your horses in no time. We must think! Pa.s.s the flagon, comrade!"

"Lieutenant! Make the round of the ramparts with one of the Commandant's soldiers and see what the dispositions are, whether one can leave the castle and how. One cannot make one's plans for leaving the town if one cannot first leave the castle."

"True!" said Hildebrand, who was secretly desirous of retaining the twenty troopers to defend Hradschin. "And sound your men as to whether they will risk a rope with Captain Charteris or remain here with me."

Nigel would have been inclined to resent this, but as Hildebrand was his host he said nothing, only being quite resolved that in the end his men should obey orders, hanging or no hanging.

Then they fell to discuss the road Nigel should take.

"Pilsen is a long journey through the hills!" said the Commandant. "Why not make for Eger? There is a strong garrison at Eger. If you reach there in safety you can get another escort to Vienna, and when things are quiet your men can slip out and go there to await your return." In this way the Commandant made it a more familiar idea to Nigel's mind that he should go alone. And Nigel, on his part, resolved that alone, or accompanied, it would be easier to escape that night, when the citizens would be drowsy with their unwonted watching, say two hours before dawn, than on the morrow when the threatened attack began. The heart of the difficulty to his mind would be the gate at the bridge-head. Even if the guard were overcome there would still be delay, and delay would be fatal.

The lieutenant returned and reported that watch-fires were lit and burning at all the four avenues which gave egress from the neighbourhood of the castle, and at each was a strong guard, all armed with muskets.

Any one coming from the castle could be seen. The crowd had dispersed.

The three soldiers put their heads together over a plan of the town, and Nigel asked question after question till he had extracted all the facts he could from the Commandant. Then he asked the Commandant for the quickest-witted of his men, and sent for Sergeant Blick, one of the escort, by special request of Nigel, who had great confidence in his fidelity.

In a quarter of an hour the two men dropped into a flat-bottomed boat kept at a small back gate of the castle for the convenience of the kitchens. And mooring it carefully on the other side, they stood half-way between the fires and the guards to the north and those to the south. The soldier belonging to the castle tapped at a window in the street which faced the castle again and again. Presently the knock was answered. The cas.e.m.e.nt opened. The soldier got through, and burly Sergeant Blick waited for the door to open. Then he entered too. A few words with the goodwife, who supplied the soldiers of the garrison with spiced sausages, and they departed through a door at the back of the house into a darkness that could scarcely have been bettered.

As the clock of the Rathhaus struck one past midnight there gathered in its shadows a knot of men. By a quarter past there were twenty, and at half-past there were forty. Every man came by himself and stealthily, and every man came armed, and was surprised to find so many others there before him, except only the first three, and they were very old in comrades.h.i.+p. As each man came up he murmured "Waldstein," and waited in the gloom in silence.

As the clock of the Rathhaus struck one past midnight Sergeant Blick and two or three men who, like him, knew something about horses, were as silently as possible yoking horses, and in some cases oxen, which had complacently folded their legs and gone to sleep chewing the cud as industriously as usual, to the waggons that stood in the market street and market-place. The noise of horses and waggons clattering or creaking was nothing to the dwellers in that part of the town.

One of the ostlers led away a waggon creaking and rumbling. The ostler was a good Catholic, and had a solid crown piece in his breeches. Then the other led away a waggon. Then when the first ostler had returned, Sergeant Blick started, and by half-past one eight waggons were disposed across the streets that led to the castle and not far from the men round the watch-fires. The horses were brought back again.

At half-past one the men in the shadows of the Rathhaus saw one who walked like a soldier come towards them, and as he halted just outside the shadows they could see the glint of his casque and heard him call them sharply to attention. In a trice they had arranged themselves in two lines as they had been used to do in Wallenstein's army. They had no doubt it was one of Wallenstein's officers, and one or two thought they remembered the voice.

They marched without hesitation towards the castle, and creeping past the waggons ranged up again in order. One or two of the guard not so overcome with sleep as the others--for your watch-fire, especially if it be smoky, as it can easily be, is a monstrous soporific--glanced round uneasily at the clink of arms and peered into the shadows and saw nothing. Then came a word of command, and, before they could all spring to their weapons, Nigel and his levy were upon them, had beaten every man to the earth, scattered the watch-fire where it would, and then, re-forming, pa.s.sed on. They halted in front of the drawbridge of the castle. It was let down, and nineteen troopers and the lieutenant came over the moat and formed up. Nigel said a word to the lieutenant and pa.s.sed on with his footmen till he sighted the second watch-fire. Once again his besom of men swept the watchers, and this time they were caught by the barricade of waggons, and every man, who was not laid flat and helpless by sword or pike or stave, was trussed up till further need. The waggons were dragged aside, and the hors.e.m.e.n trotted towards the narrow street that led to the bridge-head and the old soldiers marched behind as a rearguard, still led by Nigel. When they got within bowshot of the gate the hors.e.m.e.n rode down upon the guard and made them deliver up the keys.

The gates were opened. Nigel sprang to the spare horse, and said a thankful farewell to the old soldiers and to Plauen.

His last words to the old soldiers had been--

"If Wallenstein wants you again, will you come?"

And every man had growled out, "Aye, with a will!"

CHAPTER VII.

THE ROAD TO EGER.

Once clear of the town and on the open road to Olsnitz Nigel's immediate anxiety was ended. He did not fear the pursuit of the townspeople. Not despicable in quality is the valour which rouses and fills a man, and a man's fellows, in sight of their common hearthstone at the Rathhaus, or of that, possibly dearer, rallying-place the Rathskeller, where the favoured vintages of the burghers lie snug in cobwebs, only to be brought forth from the complete darkness of their resting-places to the still dim and broken daylight of the afternoon, or to the lantern-light cloven by the ma.s.sive pillars of the low arches into patches of ruddy glow and pools of shadow. Not despicable in quality is it, but it carries a mighty stroke only within the town's walls. To pursue with success a troop, however small, of trained mounted men, one must have the like. Nigel and his men rode on into the darkness, which was just sufficiently permeated by the faint light of stars to let them see the road at their horses' feet and a few yards ahead; they rode sleepily, but feeling secure. The road they followed was the road to Hof, which a few miles out throws out a branch to Olsnitz, and this again at Olsnitz fathers two younglings, the road to Graslitz and Pilsen, and the road to Eger.

Nigel meant to bivouac by the roadside, beneath the pine-trees, where the bed was soft with the pine-needles and dry, and horses and men alike could sleep till an hour after dawn. He was not in the mind to lock himself in any more walled cities till he was in safer country. He had also resolved to make for Eger rather than Pilsen, because, from Eger, which was a frontier post of some quality, he could perhaps send Hildebrand von Hohendorf some a.s.sistance.

So having put an hour's riding between his troops and Plauen he called a halt, and the men led their horses up the sloping banks into the forest, where they unsaddled, tethered their horses, and lay down quite contentedly. Nigel, with his head on his saddle-bags and two sentries within hail, was asleep in a few seconds. A few seconds of sleep, so it seemed to the sleep-hungered soldier, and the persistent twittering of the birds, that outburst that hails the almost imperceptible rolling up of the night clouds, awoke him. The birds could see up there in the branches. Where he lay it was dark enough to swear it was still night.

Out of the darkness he heard the voice of Sergeant Blick drowsily calling the birds "fools and heretics" for waking him, and he fell asleep again. Another two or three seconds, which were an hour by the clock at Olsnitz, and the birds, after their last nap, were again calling one another to the duty of seeing after breakfast. Nigel rose and stamped his feet and shook himself, listened for the trickle of a spring, and went off to salute it. Then he returned to his saddle and called for his horse. While this was being brought he put his hand into his saddle-bags where he carried the bulky despatches of Count Tilly: first the left, and then the right, then he searched his doublet, his holsters. There were no despatches. Sleep had played him traitor, delivered him bound into the enemy's hand. Into whose?

Nigel was possessed of common-sense, but when common-sense could give but a flimsy explanation, he was not disinclined to allow that the powers of darkness and witchcraft might, notwithstanding King Jamie and his p.r.o.nouncements, be of some potency. He was cautious too. While not suspecting any of his men, he thought that to keep the loss to himself was the surest way to discover the culprit, if he was among them. So he made no inquiry of the sentries. He had a sure memory, so clear and flawless, that he could repicture himself as in a mirror placing the papers in his saddle-bag. They were there when he placed his head upon the saddle. They were not there now. He searched his lair for any sign that it might give. There was still the impress where he had lain upon the pine-needles but nothing else. The loss was inexplicable as it was irreparable. His professional honour was in jeopardy. His reputation as an officer of approved sagacity was gone. He must go on. There was no help. He must go on and carry to the Emperor the tale of his misfortune, which would sound but a sorry one in the light of Vienna, and, instead of the despatches, such details as he could remember; wherein his excellent memory would doubtless replace all that Count Tilly could have set down. But Tilly's foreshadowed plans? Tilly's recommendation of himself? Into whose hands had they fallen?

If witches had stolen the despatches, were they Protestant witches? No Catholic could be a witch. That was an incompatibility.

The men paraded in the road, and he and the lieutenant looked them over to see that every man was there and in marching order. And Nigel scanned every face and pair of hands.

No! They were as respectable a lot of ruffians in leather and headpiece as one could pick. The order was given to ride, and they rode clanking into Olsnitz, where at the first inn they demanded beer and sausages and bread with the clamour born of a fast of eight hours and a night in the forest.

Nigel and his comrade were hungry too, and having satisfied the hunger for food, he summoned the ostler, taking him inside and questioning him if travellers had pa.s.sed that way earlier in the morning.

"Three! Two stayed on the road. The third came for a small truss of hay and paid for it and went away again. He was not of these parts."

"Which road did he take?"

"The road to Eger."

Nigel asked other questions, but the answer told him nothing except that he got a minute description of the man and of the horse, the latter more particularly being the ostler's business. It was a sorrel with one black hoof and three white. There were other marks, but that was enough.

Evidently the travellers were going far, and wished to go fast, and not to call at any inn for the s.p.a.ce of a horse's feed and watering.

Nigel wasted no time getting to horse again. One of those three had the despatches. He must overtake them. So he rode on briskly, wondering who would steal them and why. To the first question he answered: "The Protestants! For they would be in communication with Gustavus, and would wish to be beforehand in the matter of Tilly's plans."

But why should they take the road to Eger when Gustavus was far to the north? Rather should they ride north to Saxony. The road, however, was plain enough along the valley of the Elster, always rising a little, and steep hillsides on either bank. Of bridle-tracks there were many without doubt, for those who knew the intricacies of the pine-covered hills. But it was not likely the three unknown would take to them.

At Adorf, Nigel learned that three hors.e.m.e.n had pa.s.sed an hour before.

He was gaining upon them then. His men were somewhat surprised that the march was being forced, but they scented rest and a German trooper's welcome at Eger. Ten miles farther they had gained another half-hour.

Either the three had become careless, or their horses were tired, or they were poor hors.e.m.e.n. Nigel would have them in the net at Eger, and rode at a great pace. At one point, where the road took a wide bend, he even caught sight of three horses, mere little black spots on the white line of the road, and then he lost them. Trees intervened. At the long last he saw them clearly enough pa.s.s through the gate of Eger, and in a few minutes he and his troop clattered through the archway, and saw only that the town had swallowed them up. There was still a sorrel horse with one black hoof and three white ones for a clue.

Nigel bade the lieutenant find quarters for the night, and let the men eat and enjoy themselves. He also privately instructed Sergeant Blick to find the sorrel horse and not miss getting into converse with its rider, nor let him go before he could see him. Then he rode up to the castle, the citadel of the town. He sought the commandant, and was surprised to find in him a fellow-countryman, one David Gordon, a lean, lantern-jawed fellow, whose uniform bespoke the professional soldier, but whose talk reminded Nigel of the ultra-sanctimonious burghers of Edinburgh, on whom the spirit of Knox in its narrowness had descended, but not the fire of his conviction, while gaining a smoky stubbornness and sourness of which Knox would have been little proud.

"Sae yer c.o.o.nt Tilly has warstled through into Magdeburg, Meester Charteris?"

"Aye, has he!" said Nigel, watching the cold glint of the little eyes beneath the heavy brows.

"And ye'll be carrying the despatches to the Emperor!"

"Yes!"

"Hooch aye!" The commandant rubbed a bristly chin, and watched Nigel's face. "Did ye have a peaceful journey?"

"Not exactly! I had trouble to get out of Plauen, and I think you should send Commandant von Hohendorf a couple of companies. The townsfolk are out of hand."

"Ah! ha!" said the other. "Tis the working of G.o.d's wrath at the sinful deeds at Magdeburg!"

If David Gordon had been weighing out spices in a little shop in the Canongate, the speech would have had its right surroundings. As it was, issuing from the mouth of one of the Emperor's officers, it sounded out of place.