The Flight from Croixilia
"Now, what's to be done?" asked Gerald. "We are prisoners to all
intents and purposes."
"There are more ways than one of killing a cat," replied Reeves,
tearing the letter into little bits and throwing them into the wide,
open hearth. "We must take French leave, that's all. To-morrow I'll
see Sir John and have it out with him."
But Sir John would not see the man his word to whom he had broken. He
merely replied that the strangers must remain within the limits he
had named until they gave the required promise. Reeves said something
under his breath, and went to call upon Garth, whose quarters were in
the same building.
The wounded Croixilian was visibly annoyed when he heard of the
action taken by the acting ruler of the State.
"Sorry I am to have to bid you farewell," he exclaimed, "but 'tis for
your wellbeing. Set by a store of such things as you can easily
carry. Meanwhile I will speak with Captain Raoul Gare, whom I know
intimately, and we will see what is to be done. Bring your two young
comrades to see me before you make the attempt; and remember, if you
get clear of the city, take heed of the plain of quicksands. Go
rather by the wild country to the south. 'Twill take longer, but the
time will be well spent."
At length Reeves took his leave, promising to come again with his
young charges. He did not think it necessary to tell Garth that he
knew the secret path over the treacherous plain. But one thing was
evident, Garth was a true comrade, and would do his uttermost to
assist them in their attempt to leave the city.
The next morning Raoul Gare looked in on his rounds.
"Holà, comrades!" he exclaimed. "Want of exercise will stiffen your
joints. There is nothing like skipping when your walks are limited."
Reeves deemed this a strange remark, till a thought suddenly struck
him.
"Aye," he replied, "'tis a good idea. A small piece of rope will not
come amiss."
That evening a soldier entered the Englishmen's quarters with a box
under his arm, saying it was a present from Captain Gare. Directly
the man had gone, Reeves prised the box open. Inside was a coil of
three-inch rope sufficient to reach thrice the height of the
battlements.
"That's half the battle!" he exclaimed, after he had explained to the
lads the real reason for the captain's skipping rope. "They are fine
fellows, these Croixilians. It's a pity to have to sneak off, but
that brute, Sir John, has spoiled everything."
True to his word, Reeves took the lads to bid Garth farewell. It was
a sorrowful party, for each man realized that each had risked his
life in order to save the others', and they had been comrades in the
field of battle in more than one fiercely-contested fight.
"The guard at the great gorge will not hinder you," said Garth at
parting. "Much as I wish to do my duty to my country, there are times
and places when tyrannical orders may be laxly carried out. When you
leave the pass behind you, keep to the north, and ware the
quicksands. Horses will be awaiting you. Show this ring to the men
with them, and all will be well."
The same night Reeves, bearing one end of the coil of rope, scaled
the chimney; three muskets, ammunition, and food were sent up after
him, and soon Hugh and Gerald rejoined him on the flat roof. Beneath
them, on the battlements, they could see the outlines of the
sentinels, but the men's backs were resolutely turned towards them. A
double length of rope was dropped, the bight being held by the
masonry between two of the apertures in the battlemented wall. Down
these lengths the lads swarmed, Reeves followed, and the rope was
pulled clear, so as to serve for the purpose of descending the outer
wall.
Five minutes later the wanderers had shaken the dust of Charleton
from off their feet--for the last time, as they fondly hoped.
Their route lay betwixt the devastated cornfields, where no cover was
available; but since the gates of the city were closed at night, no
one was likely to be met.
At length they gained the entrance to the formidable gap betwixt the
rocks, and here again, although lights shone in the guardhouse, none
challenged them. In the gorge the darkness was intense, and the
refugees had great difficulty in avoiding the stones that had fallen
from above; but, maintaining perfect silence, they kept on their way,
emerging from the sombre ravine as day was breaking.
"We may as well take proper precautions in case we are pursued when
our flight is discovered," said Reeves, and, bringing his musket to
his shoulder, he fired into the gorge they had just left behind them.
The echoes of the report were drowned by a roar like thunder, as tons
of rock came hurtling from the heights above.
"That will take them some time to clear, I expect," he continued, as
he reloaded his clumsy weapon. "We've slammed the front door in our
host's face. Now, we won't go south, but we'll try our luck with the
quicksands."
The lads wondered why their companion had taken the trouble to carry
the heavy coil of rope with him, but their curiosity was set at rest
when Reeves proceeded to rope them together, leaving nearly thirty
feet of "slack" between each.
This done, he began the perilous passage, walking backwards so as to
be sure of keeping the leading marks in line; while Hugh and Gerald,
holding the intervening lengths of rope fairly taut, followed in his
footsteps.
On and on Reeves went, till after covering nearly a mile he stopped.
"Here we turn," he exclaimed. "Now, mind how you go. Follow me very
carefully."
"Shall I take the lead?" asked Gerald. "You must be frightfully
fagged walking backwards all that way."
"I'd be glad if you would," replied Reeves gratefully. "My muscles
are aching fearfully. There are the marks."
Once more the march was resumed, Gerald leading, Reeves in the
centre, and Hugh following in the rear, the line of route being now
at right angles to their former direction, and pointing almost
straight for the little fort by the ferry.
Presently Hugh, who was growing familiar with the dangerous path,
stepped a few inches from the centre. Then, with appalling
suddenness, his feet slipped from beneath him. In his efforts to
recover his balance his musket flew from his grasp and instantly
disappeared from view, and only the strain upon the rope prevented
him from sharing the fate of the weapon.
Fortunately Reeves preserved his presence of mind, and, instead of
instantly running to the aid of his comrade, he kept the rope taut
while he walked towards him. When about three feet off he stopped,
and called to Gerald to come up as cautiously as he could.
Meanwhile Hugh was slowly sinking, in spite of the support of the
rope. The suction of the sands was terrific. It was impossible for
him to struggle. He could only keep as still as was possible, in
spite of the agonizing torture of body and mind, trusting to the
strength of his friends to haul him out of the treacherous snare.
Bracing themselves for the effort, Reeves and Gerald pulled with all
their might. Hugh yelled. It was as if his legs were being torn from
their sockets; but he remained anchored to the terrible quicksands.
"Mind you don't fall into the sands on the other side, Gerald, if he
should come up with a jerk," cautioned Reeves. "Now, together!"
With a united and mighty heave, Hugh was dragged from a horrible yet
certain death, while Gerald, in spite of the warning, wellnigh
tumbled backwards when his chum, like a huge fish, was squirming upon
the hard ground. So great had been the suction that the leather
buskins with which Hugh had been supplied during his stay in
Croixilia were wrenched from his feet, while from his thighs
downwards the skin was inflamed and bruised in places as if he had
been scourged.
In a few minutes he was able to walk, although the pain was intense;
and, having resumed their relative positions, the three adventurers
proceeded to negotiate the remaining portion of that hazardous
pathway.
"We've a choice of boats, I see," said Reeves, as they drew up at the
little stone quay. Moored to the wall were three craft, one the
ferryboat in which they had crossed on their journey to Croixilia,
the others being larger.
"There would be room for three horses quite easily," remarked Gerald,
pointing to one of the bigger craft.
"There would be," assented Reeves. "It's almost a pity we didn't make
sure of the horses; but it cannot be helped. We could not return
without considerable risk, and I doubt whether we could lead horses
over that pathway. I wonder where the ferrymen are? We are in want of
food. Perhaps Garth's ring will help us."
The correspondent stalked over to the fort, and began to hammer at
the door. It was unfastened, and flew open at the first blow. But the
place was untenanted.
"Come here, lads; we're in luck," shouted Reeves.
On a board were six large rye loaves, six thick rugs, a bag of flour,
a jar of salt, a square of canvas that would form either a sail or an
awning at will, and a broad-bladed axe. Pinned to the sack was a
paper on which was written, in old-fashioned characters and in the
quaint dialect of Croixilia: "If so be you have decided to go this
way, these are for your welfare".
"They evidently wish to show their good feeling, in spite of the fact
that we sneaked out of the city," said Gerald.
"Yes; it's quite certain that without the aid of our unknown friends
our difficulties would be tenfold," replied Reeves. "However, we had
better get these things aboard without further loss of time."
When the last load was ready to be taken to the boat, Reeves folded
the paper and put it in his pocket, while with a piece of charcoal he
wrote the words "Many thanks!" upon the board.
"We cannot do more in that respect," he observed. "I might have
written on the back of the paper, but we don't know into whose hands
it might fall."
Reeves had already decided upon the boat that was to take them
downstream. He chose the smaller of the two large ones, this craft
being of fairly shallow draught, apparently of more recent
construction, and easier to handle. The provisions were stored
amidships and two short masts placed in position, the canvas being
stretched tightly between them. As there was absolutely no wind, this
last was useless as a sail, but as an awning it provided good
protection from the already powerful rays of the sun. There were four
oars on board--long, heavy ones, weighted at the haft with lead to
compensate for the disproportionate distance between the thole pins
and the blade.
"Here is another type of mediaevalism," said the correspondent,
pointing to the oars. "Almost the same as were used by the galley
slaves of old. Oars on an African river seem out of place; paddles
would be preferable under ordinary circumstances."
"How would they?" asked Hugh, who was engaged in cooling his aching
limbs in the tepid water.
"In weed-encumbered water, such as we are likely to encounter. Here,
as you see, the river expands, forming a fairly extensive lake, and
vegetation is somewhat scarce; but I should not be at all surprised
if we have to literally cut our way through the reeds and water
lilies lower downstream."
Casting off the rope that held it to the quay, Reeves pushed the boat
clear and dipped an oar, Gerald pulling at a second while Hugh
steered. A few strokes sufficed to put a fair distance between the
shore and the craft, and her bow was pointed downstream. In less than
half an hour the ghaut-like crags at the upper end of the lake were
lost to view.