In Direst Peril Part 7

"They've never been after us at all, sir. It's a bit of midnight drill.

That's what it is. I'll bet the road's as clear in front of us as ever it was."

After the fright we had had the news seemed too good to be true, but a brief consultation decided us to act on Hinge's hope, and to push boldly forward. We made for the highway, and following it at a road trot found ourselves breasting the first upward slope of the pa.s.s within a quarter of an hour. By-and-by the hills began to enfold us round, but the moon rode high and the road was clear and firm. For the first mile or so we kept an anxious outlook, but as the minutes went on our fears of interruption grew fainter, and our hopes rose to fever heat. We were all well mounted, our horses were fresh and full of vigor, and to all but one of us the ride itself was the merest bagatelle. But I noticed, riding side by side with the count, that he was reeling in the saddle like a drunken man, and at one moment he gave such a lurch towards me that if I had not been at hand to support him he would have fallen to the ground.

"I am weak," he said, as I checked his horse and mine. "It is no wonder.

I am surprised that I have come as far."

He spoke with a gasping voice as if in pain, and with one hand clasped to his side.

"No hurry," I answered. "Let us go at an easier pace."

He soon recovered, and professed himself ready to push on again; but half a mile at the old pace brought him once more to a standstill. I gave him a little brandy from a flask with which I had been careful to supply myself, and once more he managed to ride on. From this time forward, however, he had to be watched with the utmost carefulness, and his feebleness so delayed us that we were a good three hours later in Teaching the end of the pa.s.s than we had expected. I had ascertained that the downs, which showed the frontier line, might be skirted by taking a lonely and difficult road to the right within a mile or so of our exit from Austrian territory. I had ascertained also that a sentry was on duty on this pathway night and day, his main duty being to prevent the pa.s.sage of contraband goods. That we should have to deal with this fellow was an absolute certainty, and had been from the first, but it was easier to reckon with one man than with the dozen posted at the barrier.

We had come at so easy a pace that our horses showed no signs of distress or travel, and by this time the daylight was s.h.i.+ning broadly.

The dawn was two hours old, and there was on the face of things suspicion in our being on the road at such a time. Already the land of promise lay in sight, when the last obstacle to be encountered on our journey presented itself. The sentry sat as if dozing, with his rifle between his knees, but at the noise of our approach he sprang to his feet and hailed us sharply. We had pa.s.sed a quick bend in the road, and had come upon him rather suddenly. We had already decided to ride up to him without reply, but he c.o.c.ked his piece and called on us to halt. I waved my hand to him and we all rode on quickly. He seemed puzzled and irresolute for a moment, but he ended by clapping the b.u.t.t of his rifle to his shoulder, and sang out "Halt!" once more.

"Good! good! my friend," I answered. "We are Englishmen, and travellers.

There is no need to fire."

My foreign accent was proof enough that we were strangers, and he hesitated again. I was almost abreast of him by this time, and wis.h.i.+ng him a good-day I was in some hope of being able to push by without further parley, but he set himself in the way with his rifle across his breast.

"What brings you travelling this way?" I made him out to ask. "You have no right to pa.s.s by here. Take the lower road," he added, with a gesture which helped me to his meaning.

"We have pa.s.sports," I told him, producing my own paper and holding it towards him. "This is my friend, and this is my servant. The guide they gave us at Itzia has fallen ill."

"You cannot pa.s.s this way," he answered, gruffly, disregarding the pa.s.sport. "You must go round by the lower road."

"My good fellow," Brunow broke in, airily, "you mustn't talk nonsense.

We are going by, and there is an end of it. This gentlemen and I are personal friends of General Rodetzsky's. We have been on a visit to my friend Lieutenant Breschia at the fortress at Itzia, and we are now on our way to Pollia. That is the town below there I believe."

I more than half made him out at the time, and he confirmed my guesses later on. Suave and easy as he was, he made no impression on the sentry, who stood there immovable, bent on duty.

"We don't want to be troublesome," said Brunow, "and it's too absurd to talk of one man stopping four. Look at our papers if you like, and there's a little something for yourself." He threw the man a gold coin.

The fellow stooped to pick it up, and we rode on like men whose business was accomplished. He ran after us, shouting and gesticulating for a minute or two, but we paid no heed to him, and in a while he left us to ourselves.

In five minutes we were breathing free air in a free land.

Half an hour later we rode into the main street of the town and hammered at the gate of a hotel. When we had awakened everybody else in the neighborhood our summons was answered by a sleepy hostler, who admitted us to the yard and took in our horses. A sleepy waiter appeared and led us to a room, the shutters of which were still closed against the daylight. We asked for coffee; and the man having thrown open the window to admit the light and air, and having gone away, I turned to our rescued prisoner, who had fallen all in a heap on a couch in one corner of the room.

Until now I had but little opportunity of observing him, for he had ridden all the way wrapped up in his great common soldier's cloak with its big collar turned up until it obscured every feature but his eyes and the mere point of a beak-like nose. Now, as he lay in an att.i.tude of exhaustion, I went to a.s.sist him to a position of more comfort. I took the hook-and-eye which fastened the collar of the cloak and drew them apart; and such a countenance revealed itself as I never saw before, and pray Heaven I may never see again. A huge sweeping beard descended to the waist, and its whiteness was obscured by filth incredible. The long locks that mingled with it and overlay it on either side were roped together and tangled beyond hope of severance. The face was horribly pinched and meagre, and was of the color or want of color which you see in plants which have grown wholly in the dark. I will not describe further what I saw--what loathsome evidences of foul neglect. I have no heart for it, and I feel as if it insulted the memory of a gentleman to recall the evidences of the long and miserable martyrdom he had endured. They had kept him stabled like a wild beast--those accursed Austrians--for twenty years, and during all that time the martyred wretch had never known the use of the simplest appliance of cleanliness.

In all the years I have lived I have never met a man who was more completely a gentleman by nature--more fastidious in his nicety of dress and person. I had to learn that afterwards; but for the moment, whether rage or pity or repulsion most filled my heart at this first clear sight of him, I could not have told. I think he saw nothing but the horror in my face, for he blushed crimson, and started to his feet with his coa.r.s.e cloak clutched about his neck, and stared at me half appealing and all ashamed.

If I had had one of his jailers to account with at that moment it would have gone ill with him, I fancy. I have lived to see the death of that horrible tyranny, and I know now, that outside the borders of the one blackguard power which still darkens in the East, no such a life as this man had led is possible for any political prisoner in Europe; but even now, when I am an old man, and ought to be able to take things quietly, my blood surges in my veins when I think of that one minute of my life.

I was no milksop, and I had led a soldier's life, and had seen plenty of things that were not pretty to look at. But I was horrified, and I can't even write about it now without the old wrath and disgust and shame.

I got the poor gentleman a room to himself, and when, in the course of a few hours, the town was alive, I wandered out into the streets and bought a pair of scissors. Any old campaigner may be a tolerable barber, and I was a pretty good one. I trimmed the late prisoner into decency, and with my own hands carried up a pail of water, a piece of soap, and towels. I had taken good stock of him, and carried his bodily measurements in my mind when I went out again to an outfitter's, taking Hinge with me to translate. I bought underclothing, and a suit of clothes; and I took back a shoemaker with me, and when the-count had dressed sent the man to him to try on a number of pairs of boots he had brought with him in a basket.

When the Conte di Rossano, clothed like himself for the first time in twenty years, came into the room in which breakfast was set for us, I hardly recognized him, though I myself had taken part in bringing about the transformation which had been worked in him. He came in alert and erect, and for a mere second looked every inch a gentleman. But the broad light to which he had been so long a stranger made him blink, and sent his hand to his eyes. He came across to the table with a faltering and uncertain tread, and with a curious crouch in his walk. It struck me for the first time then, but I saw it so often afterwards that I almost ceased to notice it at all. For an instant pride and liberty had buoyed him so that he could present a pa.s.sing semblance of what he had been, but the change fell upon him as quick as lightning, and no flash of lightning could have blighted him more dreadfully. He approached the table shuffling, with bent head, and purblind eyes peering this way and that. I placed a chair for him, but he seemed uncertain what to do with it until I helped him to seat himself. The filthy floor of that unspeakable dungeon had been his only seat and couch for a score of years.

He sat crouching at the table as if hugging himself together for warmth, though the day was balmy, and the sun was bright and hot outside. When he drank he took his cup in both hands as an ape would have done, and as he tasted the fragrant coffee he made an animal noise of satisfaction.

He caught himself at this, and a swift tide of crimson pa.s.sed over his face; but a minute later the old felon habit was upon him again, and I saw him tearing his bread with his teeth in quite the jail-bird way.

Looking at his thin hands, I saw that he had clipped his nails; but the skin had overgrown them, and had split into ragged fragments. I caught him peering at them in a distasteful way, and when he detected me in the act of watching him he hid them beneath the table.

We were still at table, when there came a sudden bang at the door, and without waiting for any reply in walked a gentleman with every sign of the public functionary about him, c.o.c.ked hat, official stick, and all.

He bowed, closed the door, stepped forward, and bowed again.

"The gentlemen speak French?" he asked.

I answered in the affirmative, and our visitor announced himself as the _huissier_ of the magistrates court. It was his duty to demand our presence before the bench. On what ground, I asked. The functionary responded fluently and with an evident sense of his own importance that we had pa.s.sed the frontier without showing our papers, and by an unrecognized route; that one of us was an escaped political prisoner; that the others were charged with a.s.sisting in his flight; that a lieutenant of lancers had been sent to demand our return, and that we were at once to appear at court. To all of which I answered flatly that we would not go; whereupon the functionary retired, leaving, as we discovered afterwards, a guard outside the house. A little later came a gentleman in official robes, who turned out to be the chief-magistrate.

He explained his errand with some pomp.

"Sir," I said, when he had come to a peremptory end, "I am an Englishman and a soldier. Here are my credentials. This gentleman, the Honorable George Brunow, is a son of Lord Balmeyle, and is also an Englishman.

This gentleman is the Conte di Rossano."

And here, to my surprise, the Conte di Rossano arose from his seat at the table, and, turning towards the official, with one hand on the back of his chair, said, in a clear, loud voice:

"Also an English subject! I was naturalized before my marriage," he added in a changed tone, and so sank into his seat again.

"You hear, sir," I said, respectfully. "I am about to order a carriage, and in half an hour shall leave the town with these gentlemen and my servant on my way to England. Any official person molesting us will be held officially responsible for his conduct."

The mayor wavered.

"I have the honor, sir, to wish you a good-day."

I opened the door, and in walked Lieutenant Breschia.

"These are my birds," he said, laughingly. "I haven't the pleasure of being acquainted with this gentleman," signalizing the count, "but I dare say we shall learn to know each other."

"My dear Breschia," cried Brunow, "we are sorry to have defrauded you; but you know us, and you know it will not pay to meddle with us. We are on neutral soil. We are all three British subjects. You have no authority here, and you know it."

"Eh, bien!" said the lieutenant, laughing still. "Civis Roma.n.u.s sum. His excellency, the mayor, will bear out my statement that I came and saw and strove to conquer. You do not find it in your competence, sir, to arrest these gentlemen, who are all subjects of the British crown?"

"It is not my affair," said the mayor.

"And I am not authorized to employ force," said the lieutenant. "We are nonplussed, Monsieur le Maire."

"It would so appear," said the puzzled functionary; and being bowed from the room by the lieutenant, he retired.

"Civis Roma.n.u.s sum," repeated Breschia, when we were left alone. "It is a great saying. And so you positively won't come back?"

"Positively we will not," said Brunow.

"Then, positively," returned the lieutenant, "I will go back and report my failure."

"Permit that I condole," said Brunow.

"Permit that I felicitate," answered Breschia; and so with a burlesque friendly bow on either side they parted.