When Charlie recovered his senses, he found himself lying bound in
a room lighted by a dim lamp, which sufficed only to show that the
beams were blackened by smoke and age, and the walls constructed of
rough stone work. There was, so far as he could see, no furniture
whatever in it, and he imagined that it was an underground cellar,
used perhaps, at some time or other, as a storeroom. It was some
time before his brain was clear enough to understand what had
happened, or how he had got into his present position. Gradually
the facts came back to him, and he was able to think coherently, in
spite of a splitting headache, and a dull, throbbing pain at the
back of his head.
"I was knocked down and stunned," he said to himself, at last. "I
wonder what became of Stanislas. I hope he got away.
"This does not look like a prison. I should say that it was a
cellar, in the house of one of the gang that set upon me. It is
evident that someone has betrayed me, probably that Jew, Ben
Soloman. What have they brought me here for? I wonder what are they
going to do with me."
His head, however, hurt him too much for him to continue the strain
of thought, and, after a while, he dozed off to sleep. When he
awoke, a faint light was streaming in through a slit, two or three
inches wide, high up on the wall. He still felt faint and dizzy,
from the effects of the blow. Parched with thirst, he tried to call
out for water, but scarce a sound came from his lips.
Gradually, the room seemed to darken and become indistinct, and he
again lapsed into insensibility. When he again became conscious,
someone was pouring water between his lips, and he heard a voice
speaking loudly and angrily. He had picked up a few words of Polish
from Stanislas--the names of common things, the words to use in
case he lost his way, how to ask for food and for stabling for a
horse, but he was unable to understand what was said. He judged,
however, that someone was furiously upbraiding the man who was
giving him water, for the latter now and then muttered excuses.
"He is blowing the fellow up, for having so nearly let me slip
through their fingers," he said to himself. "Probably they want to
question me, and find out who I have been in communication with.
They shall get nothing, at present, anyhow."
He kept his eyes resolutely closed. Presently, he heard a door
open, and another man come in. A few words were exchanged, and,
this time, wine instead of water was poured down his throat. Then
he was partly lifted up, and felt a cooling sensation at the back
of his head. Some bandages were passed round it, and he was laid
down again. There was some more conversation, then a door opened
and two of the men went out; the third walked back to him,
muttering angrily to himself.
Charlie felt sure that he had been moved from the place in which he
had been the evening before. His bonds had been loosed, and he was
lying on straw, and not on the bare ground. Opening his eyelids the
slightest possible degree, he was confirmed in his belief, by
seeing that there was much more light than could have entered the
cellar. He dared not look farther, and, in a short time, fell into
a far more refreshing sleep than that he before had.
The next time he woke his brain was clearer, though there was still
a dull sense of pain where he had been struck. Without opening his
eyes, he listened attentively. There was some sound of movement in
the room, and, presently, he heard a faint regular breathing. This
continued for some time, and he then heard a sort of grunt.
"He is asleep," he said to himself, and, opening his eyes slightly
looked round. He was in another chamber. It was grimy with dirt,
and almost as unfurnished as the cellar, but there was a window
through which the sun was streaming brightly. He, himself, lay upon
a heap of straw. At the opposite side of the room was a similar
heap, and upon this a man was sitting, leaning against the wall,
with his chin dropped on his chest.
The thought of escape at once occurred to Charlie. Could he reach
the window, which was without glass and a mere opening in the wall,
without awakening his guard, he could drop out and make for Allan
Ramsay's. As soon as he tried to move, however, he found that this
idea was for the present impracticable. He felt too weak to lift
his head, and, at the slight rustle of straw caused by the attempt,
the man opposite roused himself with a start.
He gave another slight movement, and then again lay quiet with his
eyes closed. The man came across and spoke, but he made no sign.
Some more wine was poured between his lips, then the man returned
to his former position, and all was quiet.
As he lay thinking his position over, Charlie thought that those
who had set his assailants to their work must have had two
objects--the one to put a stop to his efforts to organize an
agitation against the king, the second to find out, by questioning
him, who were those with whom he had been in communication, in
order that they might be arrested, and their property confiscated.
He could see no other reason why his life should be spared by his
assailants, for it would have been easier, and far less
troublesome, to run him through as he lay senseless on the ground,
than to carry him off and keep him a prisoner.
This idea confirmed the suspicion he had first entertained, that
the assault had been organized by Ben Soloman. He could have no
real interest in the king, for he was ready to join in the
organization against him, could he have obtained his own terms. He
might intend to gain credit with the royal party, by claiming to
have stopped a dangerous plot, and at the same time to benefit
himself, by bringing about the expulsion or death of many of his
foreign trade rivals. For this end, the Jew would desire that he
should be taken alive, in order to serve as a witness against the
others.
"He will not get any names from me," he said. "Besides, none of
them have promised to take any active measures against Augustus. I
did not ask them to do so. There is no high treason in trying to
influence public opinion. Still, it is likely enough that the Jew
wants to get me to acknowledge that an insurrection was intended,
and will offer me my freedom, if I will give such testimony. As I
am altogether in his power, the only thing to do is to pretend to
be a great deal worse than I am, and so to gain time, till I am
strong enough to try to get away from this place."
All this was not arrived at, at once, but was the result of
half-dreamy cogitation extending over hours, and interrupted by
short snatches of sleep. He was conscious that, from time to time,
someone came into the room and spoke to his guard; and that, three
or four times, wine was poured between his lips. Once he was raised
up, and fresh cloths, dipped in water, and bandages applied to his
head.
In the evening, two or three men came in, and he believed that he
recognized the voice of one of them as that of Ben Soloman. One of
the men addressed him suddenly and sharply in Swedish.
"How are you feeling? Are you in pain? We have come here to give
you your freedom."
Charlie was on his guard, and remained silent, with his eyes
closed.
"It is of no use," Ben Soloman said in his own language. "The
fellow is still insensible. The clumsy fool who hit him would fare
badly, if I knew who he was. I said that he was to be knocked down,
silenced, and brought here; and here he is, of no more use than if
he were dead."
"He will doubtless come round, in time," another said in an
apologetic tone. "We will bring him round, if you will have
patience, Ben Soloman."
"Well, well," the other replied, "a few days will make no
difference; but mind that he is well guarded, directly he begins to
gain strength. I will get him out of the town, as soon as I can.
Allan Ramsay has laid a complaint, before the mayor, that his
countryman has been attacked by a band of ruffians, and has been
either killed or carried off by them. It is a pity that servant of
his was not killed."
"We thought he was dead. Two or three of us looked at him, and I
could have sworn that life was out of him."
"Well, then, you would have sworn what was not true, for he managed
to crawl to Ramsay's, where he lies, I am told, dangerously ill,
and an official has been to him, to obtain his account of the fray.
It was a bungled business, from beginning to end."
"We could not have calculated on the fellows making such a
resistance," the other grumbled. "This one seemed but a lad, and
yet he killed three of our party, and the other killed one. A nice
business that; and you will have to pay their friends well, Ben
Soloman, for I can tell you there is grumbling at the price, which
they say was not enough for the work, which you told them would be
easy."
"It ought to have been," the Jew said sullenly. "Fifteen or twenty
men to overpower a lad. What could have been more easy? However, I
will do something for the friends of the men who were fools enough
to get themselves killed, but if I hear any grumbling from the
others, it will be worse for them; there is not one I could not lay
by the heels in jail.
"Well, as to this young fellow, I shall not come again. I do not
want to be noticed coming here. Keep a shrewd lookout after him."
"There is no fear about that," the man said. "It will be long ere
he is strong enough to walk."
"When he gets better, we will have him taken away to a safe place
outside the town. Once there, I can make him say what I like."
"And if he does not get well?"
"In that case, we will take away his body and bury it outside. I
will see to that myself."
"I understand," the other sneered. "You don't want anyone to know
where it is buried, so as to be able to bring it up against you."
"You attend to your own business," the Jew said angrily. "Why
should I care about what they say? At any rate, there are some
matters between you and me, and there is no fear of your speaking."
"Not until the time comes when I may think it worth my while to
throw away my life, in order to secure your death, Ben Soloman."
"It is of no use talking like that," the Jew said quietly. "We are
useful to each other. I have saved your life from the gibbet, you
have done the work I required. Between us, it is worse than
childish to threaten in the present matter. I do not doubt that you
will do your business well, and you know that you will be well paid
for it; what can either of us require more?"
Charlie would have given a good deal to understand the
conversation, and he would have been specially glad to learn that
Stanislas had escaped with his life; for he had taken a great fancy
to the young Lithuanian, and was grieved by the thought that he had
probably lost his life in his defence.
Three days passed. His head was now clear, and his appetite
returning, and he found, by quietly moving at night, when his guard
was asleep, that he was gaining strength. The third day, there was
some talking among several men who entered the room; then he was
lifted, wrapt up in some cloths, and put into a large box. He felt
this being hoisted up, it was carried downstairs, and then placed
on something. A minute afterwards he felt a vibration, followed by
a swaying and bumping, and guessed at once that he was on a cart,
and was being removed, either to prison or to some other place of
confinement. The latter he considered more probable.
The journey was a long one. He had no means of judging time, but he
thought that it must have lasted two or three hours. Then the
rumbling ceased, the box was lifted down, and carried a short
distance, then the lid was opened and he was again laid down on
some straw. He heard the sound of cart wheels, and knew that the
vehicle on which he had been brought was being driven away.
He was now so hungry that he felt he could no longer maintain the
appearance of insensibility. Two men were talking in the room, and
when, for a moment, their conversation ceased, he gave a low groan,
and then opened his eyes. They came at once to his bedside, with
exclamations of satisfaction.
"How do you feel?" one asked in Swedish.
"I do not know," he said in a low tone. "Where am I, how did I get
here?"
"You are with friends. Never mind how you got here. You have been
ill, but you will soon get well again. Someone hit you on the head,
and we picked you up and brought you here."
"I am weak and faint," Charlie murmured. "Have you any food?"
"You shall have some food, directly it is prepared. Take a drink of
wine, and see if you can eat a bit of bread while the broth is
preparing."
Charlie drank a little of the wine that was put to his lips, and
then broke up the bread, and ate it crumb by crumb, as if it were a
great effort to do so, although he had difficulty in restraining
himself from eating it voraciously. When he had finished it, he
closed his eyes again, as if sleep had overpowered him. An hour
later, there was a touch on his shoulder.
"Here is some broth, young fellow. Wake up and drink that, it will
do you good."
Charlie, as before, slowly sipped down the broth, and then really
fell asleep, for the jolting had fatigued him terribly.
It was evening when he awoke. Two men were sitting at a blazing
fire. When he moved, one of them brought him another basin of
broth, and fed him with a spoon.
Charlie had been long enough in the country to know, by the
appearance of the room, that he was in a peasant's hut. He wondered
why he had been brought there, and concluded that it must be
because Allan Ramsay had set so stringent a search on foot in the
city, that they considered it necessary to take him away.
"They will not keep me here long," he said to himself. "I am sure
that I could walk now, and, in another two or three days, I shall
be strong enough to go some distance. That soup has done me a deal
of good. I believe half my weakness is from hunger."
He no longer kept up the appearance of unconsciousness, and, in the
morning, put various questions, to the man who spoke Swedish, as to
what had happened and how he came to be there. This man was
evidently, from his dress and appearance, a Jew, while the other
was as unmistakably a peasant, a rough powerfully-built man with an
evil face. The Jew gave him but little information, but told him
that in a day or two, when he was strong enough to listen, a friend
would come who would tell him all about it.
On the third day, he heard the sound of an approaching horse, and
was not surprised when, after a conversation in a low tone outside,
Ben Soloman entered. Charlie was now much stronger, but he had
carefully abstained from showing any marked improvement, speaking
always in a voice a little above a whisper, and allowing the men to
feed him, after making one or two pretended attempts to convey the
spoon to his mouth.
"Well, Master Englishman," Ben Soloman said, as he came up to his
bedside, "what do you think of things?"
"I do not know what to think," Charlie said feebly. "I do not know
where I am, or why I am here. I remember that there was a fray in
the street, and I suppose I was hurt. But why was I brought here,
instead of being taken to my lodgings?"
"Because you would be no use to me in your lodging, and you may be
a great deal of use to me here," Ben Soloman said. "You know you
endeavoured to entrap me into a plot against the king's life."
Charlie shook his head, and looked wonderingly at the speaker.
"No, no," he said, "there was no plot against the king's life. I
only asked if you would use your influence among your friends to
turn popular feeling against Augustus."
"Nothing of the kind," the Jew said harshly. "You wanted him
removed by poison or the knife. There is no mistake about that, and
that is what I am going to swear, and what, if you want to save
your life, you will have to swear too; and you will have to give
the names of all concerned in the plot, and to swear that they were
all agreed to bring about the death of the king. Now you understand
why you were brought here. You are miles away from another house,
and you may shout and scream as loud as you like. You are in my
power."
"I would die rather than make a false accusation."
"Listen to me," the Jew said sternly. "You are weak now, too weak
to suffer much. This day week I will return, and then you had best
change your mind, and sign a document I shall bring with me, with
the full particulars of the plot to murder the king, and the names
of those concerned in it. This you will sign. I shall take it to
the proper authorities, and obtain a promise that your life shall
be spared, on condition of your giving evidence against these
persons."
"I would never sign such a villainous document," Charlie said.
"You will sign it," Ben Soloman said calmly. "When you find
yourself roasting over a slow charcoal fire, you will be ready to
sign anything I wish you to."
So saying, he turned and left the room. He talked for some time to
the men outside, then Charlie heard him ride off.
"You villain," he said to himself. "When you come, at the end of a
week, you will not find me here; but, if I get a chance of having a
reckoning with you, it will be bad for you."
Charlie's progress was apparently slow. The next day he was able to
sit up and feed himself. Two days later he could totter across the
room, and lie down before the fire. The men were completely
deceived by his acting, and, considering any attempt to escape, in
his present weak state, altogether impossible, paid but little heed
to him, the peasant frequently absenting himself for hours
together.
Looking from his window, Charlie saw that the hut was situated in a
thick wood, and, from the blackened appearance of the peasant's
face and garments, he guessed him to be a charcoal burner, and
therefore judged that the trees he saw must form part of a forest
of considerable extent.
The weather was warm, and his other guard often sat, for a while,
outside the door. During his absence, Charlie lifted the logs of
wood piled beside the hearth, and was able to test his returning
strength, assuring himself that, although not yet fully recovered,
he was gaining ground daily. He resolved not to wait until the
seventh day; for Ben Soloman might change his mind, and return
before the day he had named. He determined, therefore, that on the
sixth day he would make the attempt.
He had no fear of being unable to overcome his Jewish guard, as he
would have the advantage of a surprise. He only delayed as long as
possible, because he doubted his powers of walking any great
distance, and of evading the charcoal burner, who would, on his
return, certainly set out in pursuit of him. Moreover, he wished to
remain in the hut nearly up to the time of the Jew's return, as he
was determined to wait in the forest, and revenge himself for the
suffering he had caused him, and for the torture to which he
intended to put him.
The evening before the day on which he decided to make the attempt,
the charcoal burner and the Jew were in earnest conversation. The
word signifying brigand was frequently repeated, and, although he
could not understand much more than this, he concluded, from the
peasant's talk and gestures, that he had either come across some of
these men in the forest, or had gathered from signs he had
observed, perhaps from their fires, that they were there.
The Jew shrugged his shoulders when the narration was finished. The
presence of brigands was a matter of indifference to him. The next
day, the charcoal burner went off at noon.
"Where does he go to?" Charlie asked his guard.
"He has got some charcoal fires alight, and is obliged to go and
see to them. They have to be kept covered up with wet leaves and
earth, so that the wood shall only smoulder," the man said, as he
lounged out of the hut to his usual seat.
Charlie waited a short time, then went to the pile of logs, and
picked out a straight stick about a yard long and two inches in
diameter. With one of the heavier ones he could have killed the
man, but the fellow was only acting under the orders of his
employer, and, although he would doubtless, at Ben Soloman's
commands, have roasted him alive without compunction, he had not
behaved with any unkindness, and had, indeed, seemed to do his best
for him.
Taking the stick, he went to the door. He trod lightly, but in the
stillness of the forest the man heard him, and glanced round as he
came out.
Seeing the stick in his hand he leaped up, exclaiming, "You young
fool!" and sprang towards him.
He had scarce time to feel surprise, as Charlie quickly raised the
club. It described a swift sweep, fell full on his head, and he
dropped to the ground as if shot.
Charlie ran in again, seized a coil of rope, bound his hands and
feet securely, and dragged him into the hut. Then he dashed some
cold water on his face. The man opened his eyes, and tried to move.
"You are too tightly bound to move, Pauloff," he said. "I could
have killed you if I had chosen, but I did not wish to. You have
not been unkind to me, and I owe you no grudge; but tell your
rascally employer that I will be even with him, someday, for the
evil he has done me."
"You might as well have killed me," the man said, "for he will do
so when he finds I let you escape."
"Then my advice to you is, be beforehand with him. You are as
strong a man as he is, and if I were in your place, and a man who
meant to kill me came into a lonely hut like this, I would take
precious good care that he had no chance of carrying out his
intentions."
Charlie then took two loaves of black bread and a portion of goat's
flesh from the cupboard; found a bottle about a quarter full of
coarse spirits, filled it up with water and put it in his pocket,
and then, after taking possession of the long knife his captive
wore in his belt, went out of the hut and closed the door behind
him.
He had purposely moved slowly about the hut, as he made these
preparations, in order that the Jew should believe that he was
still weak; but, indeed, the effort of dragging the man into the
hut had severely taxed his strength, and he found that he was much
weaker than he had supposed.
The hut stood in a very small clearing, and Charlie had no
difficulty in seeing the track by which the cart had come, for the
marks of the wheels were still visible in the soft soil. He
followed this until, after about two miles' walking, he came to the
edge of the wood. Then he retraced his steps for a quarter of a
mile, turned off, and with some difficulty made his way into a
patch of thick undergrowth, where, after first cutting a formidable
cudgel, he lay down, completely exhausted.
Late in the afternoon he was aroused from a doze by the sound of
footsteps, and, looking through the screen of leaves, he saw his
late jailers hurrying along the path. The charcoal burner carried a
heavy axe, while the Jew, whose head was bound up with a cloth, had
a long knife in his girdle. They went as far as the end of the
forest, and then retraced their steps slowly. They were talking
loudly, and Charlie could gather, from the few words he understood,
and by their gestures, something of the purport of their
conversation.
"I told you it was of no use your coming on as far as this," the
Jew said. "Why, he was hardly strong enough to walk."
"He managed to knock you down, and afterwards to drag you into the
house," the other said.
"It does not require much strength to knock a man down with a heavy
club, when he is not expecting it, Conrad. He certainly did drag me
in, but he was obliged to sit down afterwards, and I watched him
out of one eye as he was making his preparations, and he could only
just totter about. I would wager you anything he cannot have gone
two hundred yards from the house. That is where we must search for
him. I warrant we shall find him hidden in a thicket thereabouts."
"We shall have to take a lantern then, for it will be dark before
we get back."
"Our best plan will be to leave it alone till morning. If we sit
outside the hut, and take it in turns to watch, we shall hear him
when he moves, which he is sure to do when it gets dark. It will be
a still night, and we should hear a stick break half a mile away.
We shall catch him, safe enough, before he has gone far."
"Well, I hope we shall have him back before Ben Soloman comes," the
charcoal burner said, "or it will be worse for both of us. You know
as well as I do he has got my neck in a noose, and he has got his
thumb on you."
"If we can't find this Swede, I would not wait here for any money.
I would fly at once."
"You would need to fly, in truth, to get beyond Ben Soloman's
clutches," the charcoal burner said gruffly. "He has got agents all
over the country."
"Then what would you do?"
"There is only one thing to do. It is our lives or his. When he
rides up tomorrow, we will meet him at the door as if nothing had
happened, and, with my axe, I will cleave his head asunder as he
comes in. If he sees me in time to retreat, you shall stab him in
the back. Then we will dig a big hole in the wood, and throw him
in, and we will kill his horse and bury it with him.
"Who would ever be the wiser? I was going to propose it last time,
only I was not sure of you then; but, now that you are in it as
deep as I am--deeper, indeed, for he put you here specially to look
after this youngster--your interest in the matter is as great as
mine."
The Jew was silent for some time, then he said:
"He has got papers at home which would bring me to the gallows."
"Pooh!" the other said. "You do not suppose that, when it is found
that he does not return, and his heirs open his coffers, they will
take any trouble about what there may be in the papers there,
except such as relate to his money. I will warrant there are papers
there which concern scores of men besides you, for I know that Ben
Soloman likes to work with agents he has got under his thumb. But,
even if all the papers should be put into the hands of the
authorities, what would come of it? They have got their hands full
of other matters, for the present, and with the Swedes on their
frontier, and the whole country divided into factions, who do you
think is going to trouble to hunt up men for affairs that occurred
years ago? Even if they did, they would not catch you. They have
not got the means of running you down that Ben Soloman has.
"I tell you, man, it must be done. There is no other way out of
it."
"Well, Conrad, if we cannot find this fellow before Ben Soloman
comes, I am with you in the business. I have been working for him
on starvation pay for the last three years, and hate him as much as
you can."
When they reached the hut they cooked a meal, and then prepared to
keep alternate watch.
Charlie slept quietly all night, and, in the morning, remained in
his hiding place until he heard, in the distance, the sound of a
horse's tread. Then he went out and sat down, leaning against a
tree by the side of the path, in an attitude of exhaustion.
Presently he saw Ben Soloman approaching. He got up feebly, and
staggered a few paces to another tree, farther from the path. He
heard an angry shout, and then Ben Soloman rode up, and, with a
torrent of execrations at the carelessness of the watchers, leapt
from his horse and sprang to seize the fugitive, whom he regarded
as incapable of offering the slightest resistance.
Charlie straightened himself up, as if with an effort, and raised
his cudgel.
"I will not be taken alive," he said.
Ben Soloman drew his long knife from his girdle. "Drop that stick,"
he said, "or it will be worse for you."
"It cannot be worse than being tortured to death, as you said."
The Jew, with an angry snarl, sprang forward so suddenly and
unexpectedly that he was within the swing of Charlie's cudgel
before the latter could strike. He dropped the weapon at once, and
caught the wrist of the uplifted hand that held the knife.
The Jew gave a cry of astonishment and rage, as they clasped each
other, and he found that, instead of an unresisting victim, he was
in a powerful grasp. For a moment there was a desperate struggle.
The Jew would, at ordinary times, have been no match for Charlie,
but the latter was far from having regained his normal strength.
His fury at the treatment he had received at the man's hands,
however, enabled him, for the moment, to exert himself to the
utmost, and, after swaying backwards and forwards in desperate
strife for a minute, they went to the ground with a crash, Ben
Soloman being undermost.
The Jew's grasp instantly relaxed, and Charlie, springing to his
feet and seizing his cudgel, stood over his fallen antagonist. The
latter, however, did not move. His eyes were open in a fixed stare.
Charlie looked at him in surprise for a moment, thinking he was
stunned, then he saw that his right arm was twisted under him in
the fall, and at once understanding what had happened, turned him
half over. He had fallen on the knife, which had penetrated to the
haft, killing him instantly.
"I didn't mean to kill you," Charlie said aloud, "much as you
deserve it, and surely as you would have killed me, if I had
refused to act as a traitor. I would have broken your head for you,
but that was all. However, it is as well as it is. It adds to my
chance of getting away, and I have no doubt there will be many who
will rejoice when you are found to be missing.
"Now," he went on, "as your agents emptied my pockets, it is no
robbery to empty yours. Money will be useful, and so will your
horse."
He stooped over the dead man, and took the purse from his girdle,
when suddenly there was a rush of feet, and in a moment he was
seized. The thought flashed through his mind that he had fallen
into the power of his late guardians, but a glance showed that the
men standing round were strangers.
"Well, comrade, and who are you?" the man who was evidently the
leader asked. "You have saved us some trouble. We were sleeping a
hundred yards or two away, when we heard the horseman, and saw, as
he passed, he was the Jew of Warsaw, to whom two or three of us owe
our ruin, and it did not need more than a word for us to agree to
wait for him till he came back. We were surprised when we saw you,
still more so when the Jew jumped from his horse and attacked you.
We did not interfere, because, if he had got the best of you, he
might have jumped on his horse and ridden off, but directly he fell
we ran out, but you were so busy in taking the spoil that you did
not hear us.
"I see the Jew is dead; fell on his own knife. It is just as well
for him, for we should have tied him to a tree, and made a bonfire
of him, if we had caught him."
Charlie understood but little of this, but said when the other
finished:
"I understand but little Polish."
"What are you then--a Russian? You do not look like one."
"I am an Englishman, and am working in the house of Allan Ramsay, a
Scotch trader in Warsaw."
"Well, you are a bold fellow anyhow, and after the smart way in
which you disposed of this Jew, and possessed yourself of his
purse, you will do honour to our trade."
"I hope you will let me go," Charlie said. "My friends in Warsaw
will pay a ransom for me, if you will let me return there."
"No, no, young fellow. You would of course put down this Jew's
death to our doing, and we have weight enough on our backs already.
He is a man of great influence, and all his tribe would be pressing
on the government to hunt us down. You shall go with us, and the
purse you took from Ben Soloman will pay your footing."
Charlie saw that it would be useless to try and alter the man's
decision, especially as he knew so little of the language. He
therefore shrugged his shoulders, and said that he was ready to go
with them, if it must be so.
The Jew's body was now thoroughly searched. Various papers were
found upon him, but, as these proved useless to the brigands, they
were torn up.
"Shall we take the horse with us?" one of the men asked the leader.
"No, it would be worse than useless in the forest. Leave it
standing here. It will find its way back in time. Then there will
be a search, and there will be rejoicing in many a mansion
throughout the country, when it is known that Ben Soloman is dead.
They say he has mortgages on a score of estates, and, though I
suppose these will pass to others of his tribe, they can hardly be
as hard and mercenary as this man was.
"I wonder what he was doing in this forest alone? Let us follow the
path, and see where he is going.
"Honred, you have a smattering of several languages, try then if
you can make our new comrade understand."
The man tried in Russian without success, then he spoke in Swedish,
in which language Charlie at once replied.
"Where does this pathway lead to?"
"To a hut where a charcoal burner lives. I have been imprisoned
there for the last fortnight. It was all the Jew's doing. It was
through him that I got this knock here;" and he pointed to the
unhealed wound at the back of his head.
"Well, we may as well pay them a visit," the chief said, when this
was translated to him. "We are short of flour, and they may have
some there, and maybe something else that will be useful."