A NEW FRIEND.
There was something of fierce elation in the mind of Horace Ramornie
when he found himself alone! On giving his parole of honour that he
should not go beyond a mile from the glacis of Yaila, it had been, of
course, distinctly understood that his life must be respected, and
his personal liberty too. Now the former had been threatened and the
latter also! The compact had thus been vitiated by the Russian
Major-General, so Ramornie was free--free to escape when or how he
could!
He knew the contingencies; that he was certain of a degrading
captivity if three days hence found him in Yaila, and certain of
death if he fled from it and was retaken. Anyway, to free
Gwendoleyne Wedderburn was worth risking all for, and that evening he
resolved the attempt should be made, minus though he was of arms,
money, or a guide. He would simply adopt the plan she had conceived;
he should meet her and Madame Tegoborski at the pine wood; assume
that lady's place in her vehicle and drive off, testing the speed and
muscle of the Tartar ponies to the utmost, and the whole matter
seemed very easy, provided no interruption occurred by the way.
The plan was only a little horse-stealing from the enemy, and under
the high pressure of the circumstances quite justifiable.
About an hour before the projected design, he left Yaila by the
barrier-gate, as if for one of his usual solitary strolls, but not
without an increased beating of the heart, as he fancied that every
stolid-looking Russian sentinel in his flat cap and hideous long
clay-coloured coat, eyed him more keenly than was their wont; but
this was the mere result of feverish anxiety; and he proceeded slowly
along the ancient road that led towards the Black Sea, whose waters
he could see in the distance, rippling in golden light at the end of
a valley. He frequently paused and seated himself on the grass,
again to walk slowly on, thanking his stars that the two Cossacks,
Alexis and Ivan--their surnames he never knew--who had been wont to
hover, singly or together, so mysteriously on his steps, or within
his range of vision, were now absent, having been sent with poor Bob
Newnham to Yekaterinoslav.
Sometimes he clasped his hands and looked upward. Was it possible
that this night might see him a free man; free, with Gwenny by his
side, and within a few miles of the British outposts?
There are few places where one has been resident even for months only
that they do not quit with regret; but Ramornie simply loathed Yaila
in all its features; the green painted cannon, each with a red cross
on its breech, the brick-faced curtains and embrasures, constructed
by Baron Todleben, who had also patched up the old towers of the days
of Justinian and of the Genoese; the angular visages and tattered
uniforms of the garrison; the green slopes around and the flat
outline of that "table mountain," the Tchatr Dagh towering over all!
Heaven be thanked, he was about to see the last of them--and with
Gwenny, too!
He had read of, and fancied many a melodramatic incident; but
scarcely conceived that in sober, civilized life such things could
come to pass as had happened to him; yet our Afghan war, a few years
before, and the subsequent Indian Mutiny, were alike full of terrible
situations, painful and harrowing escapes and perils, undergone by
lovers and friends, by husbands, wives and their children! But who
can foresee the sudden and startling contingencies that are
consequent to a state of warfare, especially in wild and lawless
lands?
And now, beyond all their present peril, as he threw himself on the
green sward to think and ponder, Horace Ramornie looked forward
fondly to spending his future life--a happy home life--with Gwenny,
as to a promised land, where they should talk over the _present_ with
wonder, and even with pleasure!
He was now on the skirts of the pine wood, and being quite concealed
by some little caper bushes, could watch the road that led to the
quaint old fort on the green hill slope. The crimson light of the
setting sun was glowing redly on the gnarled stems and twisted
branches of the old forest. All were shining as if with flame, and
the birds were singing their last notes loudly amid the wiry foliage.
The dry cones were dropping, and the field mice were scampering
homeward to their holes under the long rank grass.
Beyond the green Babugan mountains, he could see that the road wound
through a shady dell, where the tall white poplar, the dwarf almond
and the pretty linden tree grew together in luxuriance; and by that
valley he knew they should have to pass in their flight, after he had
possessed himself of Madame's equipage. But how was he to dispose of
_her_, and prevent her giving an alarm that in ten or twenty minutes
would ensure pursuit!
His eyes seldom turned from the gate of Yaila, as every instant he
expected to see the shaggy ponies appear; and how, if Galitzin took
it into his head to accompany them, as he frequently did? He always
rode with a pair of revolver pistols in his holsters. As this idea
occurred to him, Ramornie looked round for a suitable stone--but
hark! There was a sound of hoofs and accoutrements in the valley,
and very soon a detachment of Russian cavalry, some fifty files or
so, came along at an easy trot, evidently from Tchorgoun.
They were all Don Cossacks, with grey fur caps and huge red
moustaches, the twisted points of which were quite visible from
behind; their blue tunics worn halfway to the knee were girt by
scarlet sashes, and their wide loose trowsers were thrust into their
coarse jack-boots; and so defiling past, and chanting a rude hoarse
ditty, they passed through the archway and entered Yaila, greatly to
the mortification of Horace; for thus Galitzin had at hand swift,
ready and instant means of an effectual pursuit and recapture in
every direction!
Another hour, to the anxious lurker a seeming eternity, passed away,
and the sun, which had been above the marble summit of the Tchatr
Dagh when he first came forth, had sunk behind it now, and his ruddy
golden rays spread skyward among the light floating clouds, like the
spokes of a fiery wheel, while the singular outlines of the Dimirdji
and Babugan mountains rose in purple and black against the red
evening clouds. The odour of the wild thyme came pleasantly on the
passing wind. The monotonous plash of the water sounded ceaselessly
from an ancient stone fountain near--a relic of the Genoese; but
though athirst with feverish anxiety Ramornie never drew near it.
Close by too were purple grapes, ripe figs, soft peaches and blooming
nectarines all growing wild; but he heeded nothing. He ever turned
his eyes to Yaila; but the archway appeared only as a black spot in
the walls, from whence nothing seemed to issue.
A knowledge that the place where he lay was beyond his paroled
distance, added to his anxiety, so his suspense, dread and doubt,
amounted ere long to actual pangs of bodily pain. Was she ill?
"Oh what _can_ have happened--why do not they come?" he continued to
exclaim from time to time, long after there could be any chance of
the Hospoza Tegoborski taking her evening drive.
Suddenly the boom of a cannon gave him a species of electric shock.
A thin white puff was curling upward from the northern bastion of the
fort, and he saw the Russian Cross streaming out upon the wind, which
brought the sound of drums towards him. Had the garrison received
information of an attack? What had happened? He had not a moment to
lose now, for even if he saw the columns in red pouring through
yonder valley, he must return and report himself to the officer of
the main guard--more than all he must return to where she was, and on
entering, he found the whole garrison under arms, in two
quarter-distance columns, with bayonets fixed, and a fresh supply of
ammunition being rapidly distributed from casks which were strewed in
front of each regiment.
His heart beat high and happily. An attack, he though, must be
expected; and those Don Cossacks were the forewarners of it!
"Do you expect an attack, Monsieur le Colonel?" he inquired in
French, of old Tegoborski, as that personage limped past. "I presume
those Cossacks brought the intelligence?"
"They have brought none, Monsieur," said Galitzin, ere the Pulkovnick
could reply. "They are simply the convoy I spoke of, en route to
Yekaterinoslav, whither you shall go with them in two days now," he
added, with his old smile. He had a peculiarly malevolent pleasure
in hurting the feelings of others--of the young especially; for as
his own youth was long past, he hated that joyous period of life in
any one else.
There was no attack, and the night passed away in peace; but the
whole of this sudden alarm and preparation, which thus baffled the
plans and hopes of the prisoner, were the mere result of Russian
superstition.
The _bell_ of the chapel had fallen from its rusty hook, decayed by
time and exposure. This was deemed by the garrison in general, and
by Galitzin in particular, as significant of some dire and impending
calamity, because the Muscovites deem all bells as something sacred,
and when in the preceding February, a great bell fell in the tower of
St. Ivan Veliki at Moscow, crashing through four floors in succession
and killing all the inmates, it was regarded as the omen of some much
greater calamity to Russia; thus, on the day after, news reached the
Holy City of the death of the Emperor Nicholas!
Ramornie cursed, in his heart, the wretched superstition by which his
only plan had been marred. But one evening now remained to the
fugitives, and if it proved one of rain; if Madame Tegoborski had the
vapours, or was indisposed to drive, the noon of the third day would
see him once more under escort, and accompanying those red-whiskered
Don Cossacks, towards the Isthmus of Perecop.
Though Ramornie knew it not, and feared the worst from the plump fair
Muscovite with the sleepy eyes, large hands, and snowy arms, she was
neither an enemy to him or Gwenny.
With all a woman's quickness, she had seen and discovered their
secret--that they were lovers. From a quiet point, through an
eyelet-hole, she had overlooked their recent interview which Galitzin
had so unceremoniously interrupted, and she became earnestly desirous
of succouring them for their sakes, and somewhat for her own, that
she might remove from Yaila and the Prince's vicinity, a rival so
wealthy, beautiful, and young; though she had a wholesome terror of
him on one hand, and a little, perhaps, of her spouse, the
Pulkovnick, on the other.
Lack of language--for she knew only her native Russ and a few stray
words of German--rendered the difficulty of arrangements and
explanations very great; but, most luckily for the conspiring trio,
it chanced that at this very time there had arrived with the
detachment of Don Cossacks, an officer of rank, deputed by the
Princes Mentschicoff and Gortchakoff to inspect the garrison with its
stores and report thereon, as both Kertch and Yenekale had been
captured by the Allies, and several discrepancies had been detected
in the nominal returns of Prince Galitzin; in short, the "men of
straw," in his muster-rolls had been suspected, and the pressure of
affairs in Sebastopol rendered further trifling impossible. So His
Excellency had his hands full.
One interview with Gwenny and Ramornie sufficed to complete their new
plan. Madame's arrangements were simply and speedily made for their
flight, and, in a burst of gratitude, he threw his arms around her
ample waist and kissed her on both cheeks--a process to which, as he
was a more than usually good-looking young fellow, she submitted with
the best grace in the world.
Taking advantage of the confusion--almost consternation--and
occupation of Galitzin and the Pulkovnick, Madame arranged that she
should ride her saddle-horse, a fine and active Tartar one, next
evening to the pine wood, accompanied by Gwenny on foot. There
Ramornie was to precede them, and lie _perdue_ as before. She would
mount the lady, and he must lead her bridle; their way should lie
through the Baider Pass, some fifty English miles to Balaclava. They
must travel in the night, conceal themselves by day, and trust for
the rest to God, she added, bowing to the _eikon_ in the corner.
She did more: knowing the great risk run by Ramornie if he travelled
in a red coat (or the remains of that which once had been a _red_
coat) she supplied him with a Russian caftan of canvas, girt in the
approved fashion with a rope. Still he was without arms, and he
donned this ungraceful attire, never reflecting the while, that if he
appeared thus within range of a sentinel of the Allies, he might be
shot ere he could answer a single inquiry.
All succeeded beyond even their fondest anticipations; and when, next
evening, the shadow of the Tchatr Dagh fell on the pine wood and the
valley of the wild almond and linden trees, Madame Tegoborski was
lingering on the Yaila road, looking back, and kissing her hand to
the retiring figures of Ramornie and Gwenny, whose newly acquired
horse he led by the bridle, as they descended into a steep dark glen
that they believed was ultimately to lead them to the Pass of Baider.