Jack Archer Part 22

The signature of the colonel was no doubt fict.i.tious, but this mattered but little. Jack inquired whether their absence in the morning would not be likely to be remarked; but the doctor said that the head of the party had been informed by Demetri that the two strangers would only accompany them for a few days' march, and had only been hired to satisfy the authorities that the right number of men had been furnished, for the want of hands on the estate was now so great owing to the heavy drain of conscripts to fill up the losses caused by the war, that the count had been glad to retain the services of the two who had been left behind. There was therefore to be no remark concerning the disappearance of the new hands, but the others were to take charge of their carts, and if possible the authorities were to be kept unacquainted with the fact that their number was incomplete.

The peasants' dresses were now exchanged for the uniforms of Russian soldiers. d.i.c.k's head was wrapped in bandages, and his arm placed in a sling. Jack's leg was also enveloped in bandages, the trousers being slit up to the hip, and the sides loosely tied together by a piece of string, and the doctor gave him a pair of crutches, the same as those used in regimental hospitals.

"Now you will do," he said, surveying them by the light of a lantern.

"Many of the soldiers who have joined since the outbreak of the war are mere boys, so your age will not be against you, only pray for a time give up all idea as to the necessity of was.h.i.+ng. The dirtier your hands and faces, the better, especially if the dirt will hide your clear healthy color, which is very unlike the sallow complexions almost universal among our peasantry. And now, good-bye. I move about too much to hope to receive any letter from you, but as you have of course arranged with Count Preskoff to send him word when you have safely crossed the frontier, I shall hear of you from him."

With many deep and hearty thanks for the kindness he had shown them, the boys parted from him, and, setting their faces to the west, took the road to Odessa. Jack carried his crutches on his shoulders, as also the long strap which, when he used them, was to pa.s.s over his neck, and down under his foot, keeping it off the ground.

They had made many miles before morning, and as they had retained their sheepskin cloaks, which had been served out to many of the troops, they were able to get a comfortable sleep under shelter of a protecting wall. Five days' walking took them to Odessa. This town was not upon the direct road, but they still clung to the hope of getting away by sea.

On the journey they had met several bodies of troops and many convoys of provisions and stores. Whenever they observed the former to be approaching, they left the road, and sheltered themselves behind bushes or inequalities of the ground at a distance from the road, as they knew they would be liable to be questioned as to the state of things at the front. They did not, however, go out of their way for convoys, as they pa.s.sed these with short salutations in reply to the greetings or pitying remarks from the drivers. Their Russian was good enough to pa.s.s muster when confined to short sentences of a formal kind. Their hearts beat when, on pa.s.sing over a rise, they saw the blue water stretching out far before them, and they again debated the possibility of seizing a boat. But the sight of two gun-boats steaming slowly along the sh.o.r.e convinced them that the attempt would be an extremely dangerous one.

Odessa is not a fortress, and the boys consequently entered it unquestioned. The town was crowded with wounded and sick soldiers, and their appearance attracted no attention whatever. In the princ.i.p.al streets the lads saw many names of English firms over offices, and the majority of the shops appeared to be kept by Frenchmen and Germans.

They walked down to the wharves and saw how great must have been the trade carried on before the war. Now all traffic and business was at an end.

The great foreign merchants interested in the corn trade had all left, and many of the shops were closed.

The harbor was deserted, save that a score or two of brigs employed in the coasting-trade, in the Black Sea lay moored by the wharves with hatches battened down and deserted decks. A little farther out lay at anchor two or three frigates and some gun-boats. Looking seaward, not a single sail broke the line of the horizon.

Returning into the town, they went up some small streets, entered a small eating-house, and asked for food, for the stock with which they had started four days before had been exhausted the previous evening.

The landlord served them, and as they were eating he entered into conversation with them.

"I suppose you have leave out of hospital for the day?"

"No," d.i.c.k said, "my comrade and I have got leave to go home to Poland till our wounds are cured."

"Oh," the landlord said. "You are Poles. I thought you did not look quite like our men; but you speak Russian well for Poles. There is a regiment of your countrymen in the town now, and some of them come in sometimes for a gla.s.s of brandy. They like it better than vodka; curious, isn't it? Your true Russian thinks that there's nothing better than vodka."

Rather disturbed at the intelligence that there was a Polish regiment in the town, the boys hastened through their meal, and determined to lay in a stock of bread and meat sufficient for some days'

consumption, and to leave Odessa at once. Just as they had finished, however, the door opened, and a sergeant and two soldiers entered.

"Ah, my friend," the landlord said to the former. "I am glad to see you. Are you come as usual for a gla.s.s of brandy? Real French stuff it is, I promise you, though for my part I like vodka. Here are two of your compatriots wounded; they have furlough to return home. Lucky fellows, say I. There are thousands at Sebastopol would be glad to change places with them, even at the cost of their wounds."

The sergeant strode to the table at which the lads were sitting, and, drawing a chair up, held out his hands to them. "Good-day, comrades,"

he said in Polish. "So are you on your way home? Lucky fellows! I would give my stripes to be in your place, if only for a fortnight."

d.i.c.k for a moment was stupefied, but Jack recalled to mind three sentences which the countess had taught him and which might, she said, prove of use to them, did they happen to come across any insurgent bands in Poland; for vague reports were current, in spite of the efforts of the authorities to repress them, that the Poles were seizing the opportunity of their oppressors being engaged in war, again to take up arms. The sentences were pa.s.s-words of a secret a.s.sociation of which the countess's father had been a member, and which were widely whispered among patriotic Poles. "The dawn will soon be at hand. We must get up in the morning. Poland will yet be free."

The sergeant stared at them in astonishment, and answering in a low tone in some words which were, the boys guessed, the countersign to the pa.s.s, sat down by them. "But you are not Poles?" he said in a low voice in Russian. "Your language is strange. I could scarce understand you."

"No," Jack said, in similar tones, "we are not Poles, nor Russians. We are English, and England has always been the friend of Poland."

"That is so," the sergeant said heartily. "Landlord," he said, raising his voice, "a gla.s.s of vodka for each of my friends. I fear that my money will not run to brandy. And now," he said, when the landlord had returned to his place, "what are you doing here? Can I help you in any way?"

"We are English officers who have escaped, and are making our way to Poland. We expect to find friends there. Do you know the intendant of the Countess Preskoff at--?"

"Do I know him?" the soldier repeated. "Why, I belong to the next village. I have seen him hundreds of times. And the countess, do you know the countess?"

"Certainly we do," Jack said. "We have been living for six weeks in her chateau, it is she who has written to the intendant to aid us."

"You will be welcome everywhere for her sake. She is a kind mistress, and greatly beloved. It is a pity that she married a Russian, though they say he is a good fellow. Tell me, can I do anything for you? Do you want for money?"

"No, indeed," Jack replied. "The countess has taken care of that."

"Look here," the sergeant said. "I will give you a note to my brother, who is a horse-dealer at Warsaw. It may be useful to you. He knows every one, and if, as they say, there is trouble in Poland, he is sure to be in the thick of it, and at any rate he will be able to give you advice which may be useful, and addresses of safe people in different towns to whom you can go. Landlord, give me some paper and pen and ink. My comrades here know friends of mine at home, and will carry a letter for me."

"Please be careful," d.i.c.k said, as the soldier began to write. "It is possible we may be searched on the way; so do not say anything that a Russian official might not read."

"Trust me," the sergeant answered, laughing. "We Poles have been learning to conceal our feelings for generations. Trust me to write a letter which my brother will understand at once, but which will seem the most innocent thing in the world to any Russian official who may read it."

In a few minutes the letter was finished, and the three left the place together, the sergeant telling his comrades that he would return shortly for them. He then accompanied the mids.h.i.+pmen, and did their shopping for them, and, bidding him a hearty adieu, they were soon on their way out of Odessa, Jack swinging along upon his crutches at a fair pace. Once fairly away from the town, he took his foot from the strap, shouldered his crutches and again they trudged along upon their journey.

They found their walking powers improve day by day as they went on, and were soon able to make thirty-five miles a day without inconvenience. Travelling in this way, without any interruption or incident save an occasional demand for a view of their pa.s.sport by some Russian official, they journeyed across the south of Russia, and ten days after leaving Odessa they entered Poland.

Here they foresaw that their difficulties would be far greater than before, and that their characters as Polish soldiers on their way home could no longer be sustained. They took, therefore, the first opportunity of purchasing two suits similar to those worn by Polish peasants, and, entering a wood, dressed themselves in their new attire, and, rolling their dirt-stained uniforms into a bundle, thrust them into a clump of underwood. Into this Jack also joyfully tossed his crutches and strap. d.i.c.k had long been able to dispense with his sling, but the wound on his face was scarcely healed, and was still angry-looking and irritable.

They now trudged steadily along, avoiding all conversation as much as possible, and making their purchases only in a quiet villages. They met many bodies of troops moving about the roads, and although they could understand nothing of the language, and were wholly ignorant of what was going on, they judged from the manner in which these troops marched, by the advance guard thrown out in front, the strong detachments which accompanied the baggage, and the general air of vigilance which marked them, that the country was in a troubled state.

Once convinced of this, they took care to conceal themselves whenever they saw troops approaching, as they feared that questions might be addressed to them which they might find it difficult to answer. There was the less difficulty in their doing this as the country was for the most part thickly wooded, the roads sometimes running for miles through forests. Upon one occasion, when, just as it was dusk, they had gone in among the trees, having seen a Russian column moving along the road, they were astonished at being suddenly seized, gagged, and carried off through the wood. So suddenly had this been done, that they had time neither to cry nor struggle.

After being carried some distance, they were thrown down on the ground, and the men who had carried them hurried away. Just as they did so there was a sudden outburst of musketry, mingled with loud yells and shouts; then, after a moment's pause, came the rattle of a rolling musketry fire. The first, Jack judged to be the fire of insurgents upon the column; the second, that of the troops. For a while the din of battle went on. Sharp ringing volleys, heavy irregular firing, the fierce, wild shouts of the insurgents, and occasionally the hoa.r.s.e hurrah of Russian soldiery.

Presently the sounds grew fainter, and the lads judged by the direction that the Russian column was falling back in retreat. Ere long the sounds of firing ceased altogether, and in scattered knots of three and four, men came through the wood to the wide open s.p.a.ce in which the mids.h.i.+pmen were lying bound. No attention was paid to them for some time, until a large body of men were collected. Then the lads were suddenly raised and carried to a large fire which was now-blazing in the centre of the clearing. Here the gags were taken from their mouths, and the cords unbound, and they saw confronting them a young man evidently by his dress and bearing a person of rank and authority, and, as they judged by the att.i.tude of those standing round, the leader of the insurgent band.

"Where do you come from, and what are you doing here?" he asked in Polish.

The boys shook their heads in token of their ignorance of the language.

"I thought so," he said angrily in Russian. "You are spies, Russian spies. I thought as much when the news came to me that two peasants had entered a village shop to buy goods, but had been unable to ask for them except by pointing to them, and had given a rouble note and allowed the woman who served them to take her own change. You are detected, sirs, and may prepare for the death you deserve. Hang them at once," he said in Polish, to those standing near. "But first search them thoroughly, and see if they are the bearers of any doc.u.ments."

The lads in vain endeavored to explain, but their voices were drowned in the execrations of the angry peasants, fresh from the excitement of the battle, and in many cases bleeding from bullet and bayonet wounds, for the Polish peasants always rush to close quarters. Concealed in d.i.c.k's waistband was found a heavy roll of Russian notes, and the yell which greeted its appearance showed that it was considered confirmatory of the guilt of the prisoners.

Upon Jack was found only the letter which the sergeant had given him to his brother, the horse-dealer. This was taken to the leader, and he opened and read it by the light of a blazing brand which one of his followers held beside him. "Stop!" he shouted, after reading the first line or two, to the men who were already hurrying the lads towards the nearest tree. "Wait till I have read this through." He read it to the end, and then beginning afresh again, went carefully through it.

"Bring the prisoners here," he said. "Young men," he went on, when the lads were again placed before him, "there may be some mistake here.

This letter purports to be from a sergeant of the 12th Polish regiment to his brother, Horni Varlofski. Now Varlofski is well known to many of us. I do not know whether he has a brother a sergeant. Does any one here know?"

Two or three of the men raised their voices to say that they knew that Varlofski the horse-dealer had a brother who was drafted into the army as a punishment for having struck a Russian sergeant in a brawl.

"This must be the man, then," the leader said. "The letter is written carefully, apparently with a view to avoid any suspicion, should it be opened and read by any but him for whom it is intended; but in fact it contains a.s.surances couched in language which I understand, that the bearers are enemies of Russia and friends of Poland, and that every confidence may be placed in them. Now, sirs, will you explain to me how you, who speak no Polish come to be in the middle of the forest, dressed as Polish, peasants, and the bearers of a letter such as this?"

"We are English officers," d.i.c.k began, "who were taken prisoners at Sebastopol, and have since escaped."

He then proceeded to explain the circ.u.mstances of their residence at Count Preskoff's, of their recommendation to the intendant of the countess's estates in Poland, of their acquaintance with the insurgent pa.s.s-words, and their meeting with the sergeant at Odessa. When they had concluded, the young leader held out his hand to them.

"Gentlemen," he said, "I ask your pardon for the roughness with which you have been treated, and shall never forgive myself for having without sufficient inquiry condemned you to death. It will be a lesson to me never to judge by appearances in future. I knew the countess well before her marriage. Her estates are but a few miles distant from my own, and I last saw her some three years since, when she was there with her husband and daughters. By the way," he said carelessly, "what are their names?"

d.i.c.k instantly repeated them.

"Right," the Pole answered. "Pardon me this last test, but one cannot be too particular when the lives of hundreds depend upon a mistake not being made. I am satisfied now. Welcome, heartily welcome to our camp."