The Playground of Satan - LightNovelsOnl.com
You're reading novel online at LightNovelsOnl.com. Please use the follow button to get notifications about your favorite novels and its latest chapters so you can come back anytime and won't miss anything.
"What are you doing?"
Von Senborn told him.
"I know your voice," cried Ian. "You talked to me in the fields this morning ... for G.o.d's sake tell him I'm innocent."
The two Prussians looked at one another. Ian felt sick with emotion.
Those minutes were the longest he ever lived, whilst the new-comer had his eyes uncovered and looked at him earnestly.
"Yes," he said at last. "I talked to you in the field. You told me your name. It was seven o'clock. The Cossacks did not leave this till eleven. They own it themselves. Let's have their captain up."
They did. The officer who had offered the shelter of his Cossack farm to the Countess came up. He said, in an undertone, to the priest:
"I told you to leave. I knew the men were here, hiding." Then to the Prussians, in very bad German:
"I'm your prisoner. I've nothing to lose or gain by seeing this Polish Count shot. He knew naught about my men hiding. He was in the fields with a reaping machine I happened to want. He left here hours before I hid the men."
"That's it," said the other Prussian officer. "Don't be an a.s.s, von Senborn."
Von Senborn turned to Ian.
"You can go."
Ian burst into a shout of joy. Father Constantine fell upon his knees and thanked G.o.d for this miraculous escape.
XV
Towards dawn a sh.e.l.l fell near the house. It was followed by another, and yet another, but these were nearer the village. Ian went out, to try and see if he ought to send his household into the cellars. At the front door he found von Senborn, struggling with complicated locks and bolts. He said he was going out to reconnoiter. Ian let him go alone, having no wish for his company. He knew that the Russians were in telephone communication with Lipniki at any rate, if not with the more distant centers they had occupied during the last few days.
As the sun rose and the household began to stir, Martin, the faithful old butler, being first on the scene, a couple of maids following, von Senborn came back. He took no notice of Ian except to ask where the baron's window was. It happened to be over the spot where they stood.
Von Senborn aroused his friend with a shout. In the fullness of time a shock-head appeared at the window.
"Come down," von Senborn cried in his native tongue. "The Russians have made a stand."
"Where?" asked the baron sleepily.
"G.o.d knows. They are sh.e.l.ling Lipniki like the devil. Our losses are already heavy. I'm going back to the telephone."
He strode off. The shock-head disappeared. Ian went to his bath; and the whole village soon knew that the Germans in Lipniki were having a very bad time of it, whilst their friends in Ruvno were breaking their heads to know what to make out of the Russian awakening. Where had those fools found ammunition? Where were they firing from? Who was spying for them? There were no Russian aeroplanes about, yet the news from Lipniki grew worse and worse.
This development made the Prussians very sullen, but the household could barely hide their joy. Later on, news came in that the Russians, retreating beyond Kosczielna, had found more ammunition and were using it with good effect. Firing seemed pretty near all that day. Ian and the others hoped it would send these men off to help their friends; but not a bit of it. More Prussians came up and settled themselves just outside the village. The house was full of officers, and it was worth something to see their disappointment when they found out that all the wine had been drunk, all the lace looted and all the plate sent to Moscow.
As a matter of fact, this new phase was Ruvno's undoing. If the Russians had not been firing on Lipniki it would probably have escaped the worst of its troubles. As it was, von Senborn worked his vengeance upon the innocent household.
On the second day von Senborn sent for Ian just as he was going out to the fields. The squire found him and a couple more standing on that hillock where the pine copse used to be and where Ian had spent many nights at the beginning of the war, watching the sh.e.l.ls. .h.i.t his property. The trees went months ago, opening up a very good view of the neighborhood country, denuded of timber. Indeed, the war had now taken every good tree Ruvno ever possessed. They were using their field-gla.s.ses as he joined them; he could see they were upset.
"Count," von Senborn began, "there must be a Russian observatory in the neighborhood, between this and Kosczielna, or even here, within reach of the Russian retreating army. It is either a tower or other elevated building, or else an underground one. It might be hidden in such a place as this." He stamped his foot on the ground. "Where is it?"
"There are no towers left in the neighborhood, except that belonging to the village church. As to an underground observatory, I never heard of one in the neighborhood, which is fiat as a pancake," he returned.
Von Senborn gave him one of his arrogant looks, which Ian returned with interest.
"Your escape from shooting is so recent that I need hardly remind you it would be better to tell the truth at once," said the Prussian.
"Life, bad as it is, is too dear to me for me to run needless risks,"
retorted the other. "If you don't believe me, I can't help it."
He only seemed half convinced, but walked off. Ian did not go to the fields, but hung about to watch them. They evidently suspected that he, or somebody on his land was signaling to the Russians. They searched every inch of the hillock for a possible inlet to a hidden observatory and then inspected the house and outbuildings from top to bottom, turning over hay and straw till Ian heartily wished them all at the devil. After that they tried the village. He saw some of them on the church tower from, where he had signaled for help last winter with Minnie and Martin to help, on the night his stores were looted....
A feeling of intense anxiety came over him, as if instinct was foretelling fresh disaster more terrible than anything which had yet fallen. The firing from the Russians went on and he could see von Senborn and his fellow officers were not only disturbed but very suspicious. By the way Kosczielna lay it was clear that the Russians, retreating on Warsaw, could easily sh.e.l.l it if their fire was directed by anybody on a high spot in Ruvno, since on the level it was above all the other villages by a hundred feet. They questioned every man, woman and child in the village, trying to find out if there was some vantage ground from which the Russians could have their attack directed. Ian kept as far away from von Senborn and his friends as he could, not wanting him to think he spied on their movements. The experience of the day before had taught him a lesson. All the same, he was determined to follow their movements as far as possible, if only to be on his guard; and he managed it fairly well, for some of them were always coming and going between the house and the village, where they had put up a telephone with their friends at Kosczielna. These were having a bad time of it and had lost heavily. Before long he heard one trooper say to another who was watering horses:
"We'll have work again soon. All ours in that place near by have been put out of action."
"Liar," said the man's comrade, with that courtesy so characteristic of the race.
"True as gospel. I was by the major when the news came. He's mad, too."
"What's going to happen?" said the man at the trough.
"We're falling back from that place."
"What place, idiot?"
"That begins with a kay and ends in a curse."
The man was evidently right, for a lull came now as though the retreating force had completed its tasks in Kosczielna. The day wore on. The women, though obsessed with the same sense of coming disaster, bore up splendidly. But at about four in the afternoon, when the firing began again and two sh.e.l.ls burst, one on the site of the windmill, the other at the end of the village, where Szmul used to live, Ian sent them and the women and children from the village into the cellars.
The Russians stopped firing at six o'clock and the women came up from the cellars. The little family had supper in the dining-room as quietly as in times of peace. None of the Prussians came to table. They had just received a supply of fresh provisions by motor-lorry and sent the Countess some, with a message that there was beer too, if she liked.
They refused the beer, but ate the food. They could not afford to be proud, for supplies, except for cereals, had quite given out. Being cut off from Russia, the land of plenty, and the refugees they had fed, put them in this unenviable position. There was no chance of buying things in the neighborhood, as bare of supplies as if it had seen ten years'
war. Vanda, noticing that her aunt had no appet.i.te, laughingly remarked that she had better eat a good meal, for who knew where the next would come from. Little did they think how true her jest would prove to be.
They had finished and were sitting out in the ruins of the rose garden when the firing suddenly began again and so violently that Ian insisted upon the women taking to the cellar. Then he ran to the sacristy, calling to Father Constantine to keep under the broad archway leading from the chapel. He heard an answering voice, no more. He wanted to see what was happening with the Germans, so ran to the hillock, which seemed safe so far. Indeed, all the firing was on the other side, towards the village.
This new attack made fearful havoc amongst the Prussians who had taken up their quarters beyond the church. They had been making merry over the beer when it began, and though not a sh.e.l.l dropped within five hundred yards of the house the human target was. .h.i.t so well that even to Ian's civilian eyes it was clear that the Russians knew exactly where to aim. The earth didn't shake; it rocked; beasts and men were belched up in an eruption of earth and smoke, to come down again in pieces. Those who could got away and began running towards the house; but they must have left three-fourths of their force behind, literally blown to bits.
Von Senborn, who happened to be near the house when the attack began, was saved. But Ian could not help admiring the way the surviving officers rallied their handful of men and brought them up from the village. Even as they made for the cover of trenches in the garden the sh.e.l.ls had them. Then, either because their ammunition had run out or else because their mysterious signaler could not work in the dusk--for night was falling--there was sudden calm. Ian sighed to think what destruction the Russians could work if only they had enough guns and gun-fodder. Oh, the pity of it.
When things had quieted down, von Senborn turned to his men.
"We are going to blow up that church tower," he said, wiping the sweat from his face.
A haggard subaltern explained that they had already searched every nook and corner of tower and church several times.
"We'll blow it up," he repeated. Then he turned to Ian, every muscle of his face drawn with nervous tension, his voice hoa.r.s.e as a crow's.
"Hark ye, Count. If I find that signaler I'll hold you responsible."