On the second evening Korniloff, who had already experimented with the
borrowed uniform and found that it fitted him fairly well, dressed
himself in it and shaved off his beard. For some time past he had
practised to himself before a mirror his knowledge of the German
language, which was fairly good, and its pronunciation with the soft
Austrian accent.
At nightfall, arrayed in his disguise, he went down into the courtyard
and across into the park, where, at a certain spot and hour, he had
arranged to meet his Slovack friend.
Here he hung about near the gate for some time, talking to soldiers,
smoking a cigar, and cursing in the best military slang. Nobody
suspected him, and at a moment when the sentinel's back was turned he
slipped out. At first he strolled along nonchalantly, hoping that if he
had been observed the others would think he was only one of themselves
going off for a spree without leave. As soon as he was out of sight,
however, the general "put his best leg foremost" and made the utmost
haste he could towards a figure which he recognized to be that of the
man who had promised to guide him towards Russia. They had provided
themselves with a map and compass, and had also accumulated a little
store of money. But Russia was a long way off, and their plans for the
future were somewhat vague.
All that night and most of the next day Korniloff and his unknown
friend (the general confessed that he never knew the name of his
benefactor) walked in an easterly direction. They slept for some hours
in a lonely field, and then got on the move again. Here and there
peasants helped them on their way; they were offered food and drink and
a rest. Though they avoided small towns, they were making their way to
Budapest, thinking that something might happen in that great city to
help them, and that they could easily pass unchallenged where so many
races intermingled.
But before reaching the great city on the banks of the blue Danube an
unexpected and most unhappy incident occurred. The plan of escape was
almost entirely wrecked.
"We had noticed that wherever we went the gendarmes eyed us
suspiciously," said the general to the already mentioned delegation.
"In every village through which we passed, at every farm at which we
called for bite or sup, on every plain which we crossed, there seemed
to be eyes watching us. Soon our provisions became exhausted and we
began to suffer the pangs of hunger. One day, after a long, hungry
march, my Slovack guide--the faithful companion of the early part of
my sufferings--decided, since he was on the point of exhaustion, to
ask for food and water at an isolated farm. I warned him that it was
dangerous, but hardly had the words passed my lips than he was gone. I
saw him enter the farm and waited in vain--waited for ten long hours!
At last I comprehended what had happened. I saw the gendarmes surround
the house and heard the sound of gunshots. Flight, instant flight, was
the only course open to me, and thus, alone for the remainder of my
journey, I continued with all speed towards Budapest."