SUSPENSE
As we three hurried up the hill we discussed earnestly our plans; and
the supreme seriousness of the failure to secure the person of General
Kolfort grew more vividly forcible the more we considered it.
We could have held him a prisoner in his own house easily and without
creating any alarm at his disappearance. And the Princess could have
gained the frontier before ever a question had been asked as to her
whereabouts. I gnashed my teeth as I thought of it.
Now, however, he would raise the alarm at the first possible moment.
He knew that we were in considerable force, and not only could he send
troops after us, but by telegraph he could send instructions to have us
intercepted at any one of a dozen points.
“Does anyone know where the wires run from Ichtman and Samakovo to
Sofia?” I asked. “If we could cut them, we might save some hours when
even minutes may be vital.”
“Of course. Why didn’t we think of it before?” exclaimed Zoiloff. “I
know them. They run along the course of the projected railway. I can
find them inside an hour. The line is to touch Liublian, and must run
close here somewhere.”
“Then take a couple of men as soon as we are mounted and rattle off
across country and cut them, and rejoin us with all possible speed. You
will easily overtake the carriage;” and the moment we met our men he
started to carry out the plan.
I then arranged the order of our ride. I left Spernow in command of the
greater number of men, with orders to follow in straggling formation
until we had passed through Liublian; then they were to close up and
keep the carriage in sight. One man was to ride about a mile or so in
the rear to watch for any signs of pursuit. For this work I chose the
man whose horse was the fleetest and freshest, and ordered him to keep
a sharp lookout behind him, and at the first sign of anything wrong to
gallop after us at top speed to give us the earliest possible warning.
I myself took three men with me and rode forward at once, intending to
overtake the Princess and act as immediate escort.
I had little difficulty, unfortunately, in getting up with the
carriage, for Markov, with all his skill as coachman, was only able to
make a very indifferent pace over the villainous roads. The carriage
bumped and rolled and jumped in the deep ruts and over the stones in a
way that filled me with alternate fear that it was travelling too fast
for the safety of the occupants, and of despair that so slow a pace
would make pursuit an easy enough matter.
It was a great, heavy, lumbering, travelling coach, built for the
comfort of those who were content to travel at an easy rate; and about
as little suited for the purpose of rapid flight as anything could
be. I could have cursed it, as it lumbered along groaning, creaking,
straining, threatening to topple over at every other lurch, and
distressing the horses, powerful though they were, until the sweat
lathered on their flanks and dripped on the rough, cruel road.
“Is there a hope of getting any better carriage at Liublian?” I asked
Markov, riding up to him as we neared that place. “We shall never reach
the frontier in this thing; an open cart would be better. Try if you
can’t get something. Steal it if you can’t hire or buy it.”
“The horses are nearly done already, your Honour,” said Markov;
“although we’ve only come some seven miles. I’ll try.”
“You must be quick,” I said, as I fell back behind again.
Despite the very urgent need for haste, we entered the place driving
very leisurely, and drew up at the inn, when Markov and I entered to
make inquiries. We were in luck. The man had a comparatively light
open cart for sale and a couple of strong young horses. A few minutes
found the bargain struck, and while my men were refreshing themselves
the horses were put in, and Christina and her companion left the great
ugly, cumbersome carriage to take their places in the cart.
“Could we get peasants’ clothes?” suggested Mademoiselle Broumoff. “Any
kind of disguise might help us.” It was a happy thought, and the ever
resourceful Markov acted on the hint directly, and procured cloaks and
headgear.
“Better put them on when we are clear of the place,” I decided, as
Markov put the bundle into the cart.
“I am afraid you will find the road to safety very rough, Princess,”
I said as I helped her into the cart. I had not spoken to her since
leaving the General’s house.
“I am causing you all sore trouble,” she answered, smiling sadly. “How
shall I ever thank you enough?”
“We shall have our reward when we see you safe in Servia.”
“Ah, I ought to have done what you advised yesterday and have gone
then. All this would have been spared us.”
“We could not foresee what old Kolfort had planned for last night. I
thought the road would have been as open to-day as it was yesterday.”
“It is like you to lighten the blame, but it is my fault.”
“We are ready, your Honour,” called Markov.
“Forward then,” I said. “Cautiously out of Liublian, and then press on
with all the speed you can make.”
I mounted, and was in the act of starting when a horseman was seen
riding hard up the road we had come. It was Zoiloff, and I welcomed him
gladly.
“I’ve done it,” he said exultantly. “I don’t know whether there are any
other wires, but I’ve cut the main ones, and that will probably cause
some delay. But how came you to halt here?” he asked anxiously.
I explained the change of vehicles, and we rode on after the Princess.
“You passed Spernow?” I asked.
“Yes, and left my men to follow with his. He tells me he is to join
you as soon as he is clear of Liublian; he should be near now;” and he
glanced back as I thought with some anxiety.
“We have done well so far. It was a stroke of luck to get rid of that
lumbering old carriage,” said I.
“True, but we have already been a long time covering very little
ground, and must press forward. Our pursuers won’t sleep on the road.
I’m surprised we haven’t heard from them before now.”
It was unlike him to meet alarm half-way in this fashion, but I made no
answer except to urge my horse to greater speed, so as to close up the
distance between us and the Princess.
Markov was now driving at a very rapid rate, the road was much better,
and I felt my spirits rise as we covered the ground quickly. Every yard
gained safely made the prospect of escape more hopeful.
“Spernow should have joined us by now,” said Zoiloff again presently,
as we were breathing the horses up a steep hill.
“We have been travelling much faster since we changed conveyances, and
his cattle may be a bit stale,” I replied, trying to reassure him.
“I’m afraid something’s going wrong with him. It’s not like him to play
the laggard in this way. Can he have been overtaken by Kolfort’s men
and surprised?”
“Scarcely that. We’ve got a picket thrown out behind and he’d have
warning. If there was any sign of danger, I told him to close up with
us at once, so that we could make a stand together. One or two of the
horses may have given out.”
“I don’t like it,” said Zoiloff; and when we reached the top of the
hill we turned and looked back along the white road, searching eagerly
for some sign of Spernow’s coming. We saw nothing, and the doubts which
made Zoiloff’s face so grave began to affect me.
“I am inclined to go back,” he murmured.
“We can’t spare you, Zoiloff,” said I quickly. “If anything is wrong
with him, you alone can do no good; and if anything is to go wrong with
us, we are too few already for safety.”
“I could find out what it means.”
“Or be cut off yourself;” and with that we resumed our ride, my
companion’s face unusually gloomy and thoughtful.
“How far are we from Sofia, Markov; and when do you turn off?” I asked,
riding up to him.
“About five miles from the city, your Honour, a little more than two
from the branch road I am making for.”
“We’ve only a few minutes more on the main road,” I said, falling back
to Zoiloff; “and, once away from it, our chances will be fifty in a
hundred better. It’s this road I’ve feared.”
“Ha! Here comes news!” exclaimed my companion suddenly, a few minutes
afterwards, turning in his saddle and looking back. “And bad news too,”
he added.
A single horseman was dashing down a hill behind us, and as we turned a
number of other horsemen reached the crest and came streaming down the
hill after him, the sunlight glistening through the cloud of white dust
as it fell on their arms.
“That should be Spernow and our men,” said I anxiously.
“It is Spernow, but they’re not our men. I feared it meant mischief.
They are troopers; and I can count a dozen of them. Tell Markov to
drive like the wind. They’re after us.”
A bend in the road at that moment cut off our view, and almost directly
afterwards Markov turned away to the left into a narrow lane, putting
his horses to the gallop.
“We shall have to fight for it, Count,” cried Zoiloff. “There didn’t
seem more than a dozen troopers that I could see, and, with Spernow, we
shall be six. We can hold them at bay in this narrow lane, and perhaps
drive them off.”
At that moment a loud shout of dismay came from Markov, and we saw him
pull his horses up in a scramble.
“What’s the matter?” I called, riding up.
“I’ve taken the wrong lane, your Honour, cursed fool that I am,” he
cried in sore distress. “I know it now; there is no outlet. I should
have driven on for about five hundred yards farther;” and he backed his
horses as if to turn them.
It spelt absolute ruin.
“There’s no going back, Markov,” I said decisively. I was calm enough
now for all the trouble.
“The devil!” exclaimed Zoiloff. “Well, we must make a fight of it.”
“Stay a moment. Where does this lane lead, Markov?”
“To a peasant’s homestead, with no outlet anywhere.”
“Forward to that, then--at a gallop. We can hold the house against the
men with far better chances than here,” I said to Zoiloff. “Besides,
they may not have seen us turn off the road, and may go on to the next
turning. But what of Spernow?”
“He was gaining on them fast, and will escape in any event,” said
Zoiloff; “but it’s a perilous fix.”
A couple of minutes later we halted in front of the cottage, to the
infinite surprise of the inmates. Markov knew them however, and while
he was explaining things to them the rest of us set to work to put the
place in readiness to resist the expected attack. Fortunately it lent
itself well to the purpose; and, long before the peasant owner had
been pacified with a good round sum of money, every door and window
was closed and barred, and the horses and cart had been stabled close
to the rear of the house in a shed, the door of which we could easily
command, so as to prevent anyone trying to steal off with them.
The Princess and her companion were placed in an upper room, well out
of the danger of stray bullets; and, though we were breathless with
our exertions, we were quite prepared to give our visitors a warm
reception before a sign of the soldiers or of Spernow was visible.
Both Zoiloff and I kept an anxious lookout from a window in the roof
of the cottage which gave a view of a considerable portion of the lane
that led to the homestead; but the minutes crept on until a quarter of
an hour, half an hour, an hour passed without a sign or trace of either
our friend or our enemies; and, indeed, until we grew as anxious to see
the former as to know we had escaped from the latter.
What could it mean? Zoiloff and I exchanged many an anxious question
and hazarded many futile guesses. I was inclined to hope that the
soldiers had not seen us after all, and that in our little hiding-place
we had not only escaped them, but had been overlooked by any other
parties that might have been despatched in search of us.
At the end of an hour I sent Zoiloff down to see that food was prepared
both for the men and for our horses; and when another hour passed
without any sign of disturbance the hopes of all of us began to rise.
The one thing that had caused me more anxiety than anything else was
the obstacle which daylight presented to a successful flight; and when
noon came and passed, and the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, I
was glad enough; for every hour that passed diminished the risk and
increased our chances of getting to the frontier unseen in the darkness
of the night.
Moreover, the rest was just what the horses needed; and thus on both
accounts the hanging hours of safety on that hot summer’s day were
doubly precious to us. Markov was certain that under the cover of the
night he could find his road unerringly; and though his blunder in the
morning had at first caused such a panic and had shaken my confidence
in his knowledge, I was ready to believe him now.
“I could drive it blindfolded, your Honour,” he said earnestly, when
I questioned him. “I know every house, and cottage, and tree, almost
every bump in the road--more than that, I could find my way secretly
across the country were every road and bridle-path choked with armed
men. It is my own country!” he exclaimed vehemently.
“How long will it take you?”
“It is fifty miles from the frontier to the first place where I can get
fresh horses, and perhaps fifteen from here to that--at the outside
say seventy miles. I can do it in seven hours with such horses as are
waiting for me at every stage--probably less.”
“You will be ready to start as soon as it is dusk,” I told him, and, as
the afternoon passed, I went to acquaint the Princess with our plans.
“You have left us long alone, Count,” she said with a smile. “And
I have needed you sorely. Nathalie here is in distress for news of
Lieutenant Spernow.”
“You may feel assured on his account,” I said to the girl, who was very
pale and troubled. “When we saw him last he was gaining rapidly on his
pursuers, and was not at all likely to fall into their hands.”
“But where is he? Why have you no news of him?” she wailed.
“Probably he knows no more than our enemies where we are. But he is
safe. Both Captain Zoiloff and I are convinced of that.” Her fears were
not to be stayed by words, however, and in truth I myself had more than
a misgiving on his account.
The Princess was eager for the moment to come when she could start,
and would have set out at once had I not told her of the far greater
security which darkness would afford.
“What time is it now?” she asked.
“Just past four. At seven, or soon after, we may venture to start;
and if all goes well, as Heaven grant it may, you will be across the
frontier and in safety before the sun rises again.”
“I shall owe it to you,” she said, “as indeed I owe so much already.”
“Not more to me than to all here with us. Indeed, this blessing of a
shelter at the very nick of time we owe to the accident of Markov’s
blunder. We may well forgive him such a happy mistake.”
“Would you have me think I owe nothing to you?” she asked in a low
voice, looking at me with a glance of love.
“Perhaps I may answer that question at a future time,” I returned in
the same low tone. She blushed and dropped her eyes and was silent.
In the silence I heard the sounds of some commotion in the house below,
and I started uneasily. “Something has happened; I must go and see what
it means!” I exclaimed; and with a hasty excuse I hurried away.
Something had indeed happened, for at the bottom of the stairs I found
Spernow and Zoiloff in excited talk. I called them up, and together we
entered the Princess’s room, that he might tell us the story of his
experiences, and relieve at once the anxiety of his sweetheart.
On seeing him she jumped up and, regardless of our presence, threw
herself into his arms.
“Are you really safe, Michel?” she asked, gazing into his face with a
look I could understand readily, and, laughing and crying by turns,
she plied him with a hundred questions.
His story was of deep interest and moment to us, and, though I was in
full mood to sympathise with the lovers, I was eager to hear it.
“I can tell my story in a very few words,” he said at length, turning
to us. “Just after we left Liublian we were attacked by a party that
outnumbered us by five to one. Our man in the rear galloped up to warn
us as you had ordered him, Count, but the troops were right on his
heels, and, as our horses were anything but fresh, I dared not risk a
race in the effort to reach you. I determined to fight it out there
and then, but from the first we hadn’t a chance. The troops fired not
at us, but at the horses, until only two of us were left mounted. The
rest you can gather. We had never a chance. My men resisted as long as
resistance was possible, but one after another they were surrounded,
disarmed, and secured. When all was lost we two fled, but some dozen
of the troops came pricking after us. My companion’s horse was shot;
but almost by a miracle neither my horse nor myself was touched, though
the firing was heavy enough. When I came down that hill yonder, I saw
you, and saw you turn into the lane. In a moment I knew the mistake you
had made, for I know this country to a yard, and it occurred to me to
pass the entrance to the lane in the hope that the troops behind me had
not seen you. I made for the next turning, therefore--that which you
should have taken but happily did not--and to my intense relief the men
behind, thinking no doubt that I was following you, followed me. The
rest was easy enough. My horse was fleeter than theirs, and I led them
a dance at a rattling speed for some ten miles. Then I dismounted, and,
giving my horse a whack with my hand, sent him on without me, while I
slipped into some bushes and waited for the men to pass. They did this,
swearing prettily, as you may imagine, and as soon as they had gone by
I set off across country in a bee-line for this place, thinking it not
unlikely that you would take refuge here for a while. And here I am,
and that’s all.”
Our congratulations poured upon him, and then Zoiloff and I went away,
that he and the little Broumoff might be together. It was the best
reward we could make him just then.
“Those men will try back when they find he’s fooled them,” said
Zoiloff, “and we had better be ready.”
“They’ll have to come soon,” said I, “or they’ll find the nest empty
and the birds flown.”
“They’ve over two hours yet,” he returned drily, and together we went
back to our watch-window in the roof, giving orders that the house was
to be kept as silent as if it were deserted.
The minutes were weighted now with the old fears and suspense, and
scarce a word passed between my staunch friend and myself. And when we
spoke it was in a whisper, as though the men had already come. For an
hour more nothing occurred to disturb us, and once again the flame of
hope began to kindle. But it was only to be ruthlessly quenched.
When a glance at my watch told me that an hour and a quarter had gone
by we saw that which made us start and draw breath quickly.
Two troopers came riding slowly up the lane, looking carefully to right
and left as they approached. The peasant’s dog barked loudly, and at
the sound they stopped, and peered curiously at the house. Then they
advanced until they stood close to the yard-gate, and both stared at
the house and spoke together.
We held our breath in suspense.
The closed doors and shutters puzzled them, and after a few moments one
of them dismounted, handed the reins of his horse to his companion,
pushed open the gate, and walked up towards the house.
At that moment fortune served us a scurvy trick. Down below a roar of
laughter broke out among our men, loud enough to reach us.
The soldier heard it too.
We heard him strike a lusty summons on the door panels and call to
those within. Then everything was as still as the grave.
The man knocked again, and when the door remained unopened he went back
to his companion, mounted his horse, and, giving some instructions, set
off up the lane at a quick canter. The second man drew back into the
shade of a tree and waited, keeping his eyes warily upon the house all
the while.
“We may as well get the men posted,” said Zoiloff. “That fellow will be
back in a minute with all there are with him. We’re in for a scrimmage.”
He went down at once to give the necessary orders, while I stayed to
watch.
I had not long to wait. In a few minutes I heard the advancing
footfalls of horses, and a number of troopers came swinging up the lane
at the trot. I counted thirteen in all, and thanked Heaven there were
no more.
But it meant fight, and I saw the man in command of the party taking
his observations, and giving his instructions to those under him to
surround the house.
There was no need for me to watch longer. There would soon be plenty of
other work on hand.