FROM ONE DIFFICULTY TO ANOTHER
"Where is this going to end?"
It was Ben who asked himself the question, as he walked up and down the
narrow cell in which he had been confined in the prison at Port Arthur.
What had been written to Gilbert in the letter from Pekin had been
substantially correct. Ben had aided Ken Gow in numerous ways, and for
this the Chinaman had been extremely grateful and had promised to do all
he could for the young captain should he manage to escape from the
blockaded seaport. Then Ken Gow had disappeared one night, and that was
the last Ben saw of him.
Three days later a guard entered the prison and announced that the
prisoners were to be transferred to other quarters. With his hands bound
behind him, Ben was marched forth through a side street of Port Arthur,
where stood an old building which had formerly been used as a market.
Cells had been built in this structure, and into one of these he was
thrust, the guard sarcastically telling him to make himself as
comfortable as possible.
The young captain was sick in both body and mind and fast reaching that
point where one becomes desperate and fit for any deed of daring. More
than once he was tempted to throw himself on the guard in an endeavor to
overpower the fellow and escape. But he realized that if caught at this
he would be immediately shot down.
Day after day passed, and from outside the prisoner heard the dull
booming of cannon. Occasionally a shell would explode close to the
prison, causing a wild yell of alarm and a general rush by those
outside. There were flags over the prisons and over the hospitals,
showing what manner of places they were, but, as said before, the
Japanese were at a loss to see what they were firing at, so many shots
and shells went where they were not intended. These mishaps were what
caused the report to circulate that the Mikado's men were not fighting
according to the rules of modern warfare, but were doing their best to
shatter the hospitals in which lay their own and the Russian wounded.
It was a cold, raw day, with a touch of snow in the air, and Ben felt
one of his desperate moods coming over him. His hands and feet were free
and he peered forth from the one narrow window that the cell contained.
All he could see beyond was a courtyard, surrounded by a stone wall.
"I wish I was out there--I'd get over that wall somehow!" he muttered to
himself.
The cell window was not over fifteen or sixteen inches wide and twice
that in height. The bars were of iron, but set in wooden frames but a
few inches in thickness.
"A fellow might smash out those bars with the bench end," he thought.
"But after that what? I reckon the guard in the courtyard would shoot me
on sight. I might try it at night."
Still in a desperate mood, Ben picked up the bench, a solid affair
several feet long. He made an imaginary lunge at the window bars with
it.
"I'll wager I could knock them out with one blow. They----"
Ben got no further, for at the moment a fearful explosion sounded
somewhere overhead. The explosion was followed by a crash and a wild
yell of alarm. A Japanese shell had struck the top of the building,
tearing away fully a quarter of the roof and sending the bricks and
timbers flying in all directions.
"Now is my chance!" he muttered, and without stopping to think twice he
rammed the window bars as hard as he could with the bench. A second and
third blow followed, and down went the irons, carrying a portion of the
window frame with them. Then through the opening leaped the young
captain. As he landed in the courtyard, he picked up a small log of wood
lying handy.
A glance around told him that the guard was nowhere in sight, the
Russian having run to the other side of the building to note the damage
done by the shell. Log in hand, Ben leaped quickly across the courtyard
and placed the bit of wood up against the wall. This gave him a footing,
and in a twinkling he was on top of the wall.
But though he acted quickly a guard from the prison building saw him and
ran forth gun in hand.
"Halt!" came the command, in Russian, and then, raising his weapon, the
guard fired at Ben.
The bullet whistled over the young captain's head, and without looking
back to see who had fired it, he dropped on the other side of the wall.
Then he sprinted up the street and around a corner.
Ben knew not where to go, but his one thought was to put distance
between himself and the prison, and he hurried on and on, until he came
to a barn which stood open. Into this he darted, to find the building
empty of occupants.
The Japanese had begun a general bombardment of Port Arthur and shot and
shells were flying in all directions. This being the case, the majority
of the troops and the inhabitants were out of sight,--hid away in
cellars and dugouts. Nobody paid any attention to him and he was thus
given ample time in which to think matters over and decide upon his next
movement.
From the barn Ben moved to the building next door--which was a sort of
dwelling and storehouse combined. Here, from the wide open doorway, he
gazed at the scene of destruction before him. It was full of horror and
made him shiver.
"War is certainly a terrible thing," he thought. He saw some people
running for their lives, and beheld one man go down struck in the back
by a shell. Then he turned away to shut out the sight.
In one room of the warehouse he found an old overcoat and a slouch hat,
and lost no time in donning these, both as a disguise and to keep
himself warm. Then he hunted around for something to eat, but could not
find a mouthful.
"I might have known there would be no food squandered," he told himself.
"Didn't they say at the prison that they were slaughtering the horses
just for the meat, and that butter and eggs were worth their weight in
gold? I'll be lucky to get bread and soup--especially as I haven't a
dollar with which to pay for a meal."
Ben was about to leave the warehouse when he saw a file of Russian
soldiers approaching. With the soldiers were two officers, and as they
came closer he recognized one as Captain Barusky.
"It was a bad thing to let that American escape," said the captain to
the other officer. "If you catch sight of him, shoot him on the spot."
"Which we shall do with pleasure," was the ready answer; and then
officers and soldiers passed on.
"I've got to keep out of sight, that's all there is to that," reasoned
Ben, grimly. "If they catch me again it's all up with me. I wonder if it
would be possible to get out of Port Arthur? Gilbert got out, but things
weren't half so closely guarded as they are now."
Ben waited until nightfall before leaving the warehouse. Then, keeping a
constant lookout for Russian soldiers, he sneaked along one street after
another. Where to go he did not know, but he realized that he must have
something to eat or he would starve.
Presently he came to a small garden in the center of which was a
neat-looking residence. On the doorplate was the name Nathan Chase.
"Nathan Chase!" Ben cried, half aloud. "I wonder if that can be the
gentleman Gilbert knew? If it is perhaps he will aid me."
At first the young captain thought to ring the doorbell, but fearful of
meeting the wrong person he resolved to investigate in a more private
manner. The side windows of the residence were curtained, but the
curtains were only partly down. Going to one of the windows he peered
inside.
In a neatly furnished sitting room sat a young lady and a Russian
soldier. They were arguing about something--money matters as far as Ben
could make out. The young lady did not wish to give the soldier the
money and he insisted upon having it. While Ben gazed at the scene, the
Russian soldier leaped up, grasped the young lady by the shoulders and
shook her roughly.
"Don't!" screamed the young lady, in English. "Let me go!"
"I want the money!" answered the soldier, in his native tongue. He was a
Cossack and of brutal features.
The young lady was pretty and she was helpless, and this combination was
more than the young captain could resist. Regardless of consequences, he
shoved up the window and leaped inside the apartment.
"Keep your hands off of that young lady!" he cried, and catching the
Cossack by the shoulder he threw him backward. "Don't you know how to
treat a lady when you meet her, you big brute?"
The Cossack was startled, first because he had not expected the
interruption and secondly because he had no business to be in the
mansion. He gave one look at Ben and then rushed out into the hallway
and left the premises with all possible speed.
As soon as the Cossack was gone the young lady and Ben stared at each
other. She started to speak, but stopped suddenly.
"Excuse me for coming in as I did, but I thought it was necessary," said
the young captain. "I guess that fellow had no business here."
"You are right, sir. Papa is away, and he wanted me to give him money.
He must have known I was alone in the house."
"Are you Miss Chase?"
"I am. But you have the advantage of me."
"I know it. I am Captain Benjamin Russell. Perhaps you know an old
friend of mine, Gilbert Pennington. He knows your father, I believe."
"Oh, yes, I have met Captain Pennington. They tell me he is now in the
Japanese army."
"He is." Ben paused and looked at the young lady keenly. "Miss Chase,
can I trust you?" he asked, abruptly.
"What do you mean?"
"I will tell you," and in a few brief words he related his story, to
which Grace Chase listened with close attention.
"You were lucky to escape from that prison!" she cried, when he had
finished. "To be sure I will assist you as far as I can. Papa is away on
business, but I expect him back in two or three hours. We haven't much
on hand to eat, but such as there is you are welcome to."
"I'm hungry enough to eat anything," said Ben, with a little smile.
"Then come with me to the dining room, Captain Russell, and I will
prepare supper."
"You haven't any servants now, I suppose?"
"No; every one of them has deserted us."
They entered the dining room, and the young lady asked Ben to close the
shutters. While he was doing this she prepared such a meal as the larder
of the house afforded. It was not much, but he did not complain, and he
thanked her warmly for giving what he felt she could ill afford to set
before him.
The meal finished, they sat down to await the coming of Mr. Chase. While
doing this Ben related some of his experiences in the army and the young
lady told of the horrors of the siege.
"One cannot understand it unless you are in the midst of it," she said.
"Papa says business is at a standstill, the hospitals are filled with
the sick and the wounded, and we are in constant dread that the next
moment will be our last. The suspense is so great that in one or two
cases the inhabitants have gone crazy."
"I can well believe that, Miss Chase. During the war in the Philippines
I saw----"
Ben paused, as a heavy footstep sounded on the porch of the residence.
Other footsteps followed, and then came a loud knock on the door.
"Open here!" demanded a voice in Russian. "Open, in the name of the
Czar!"