CHAPTER XXIII.
THE FLIGHT.
One of the men--it was I--muttered something to Marie, and she snuffedthe wick, and blew up the light. In a moment it filled the room,disclosing a strange medley of levelled weapons, startled faces, andflashing eyes. In one corner Fraulein Max and the two women coweredbehind one another, trembling and staring. At the table sat my lady,with dull, dazed eyes, looking on, yet scarcely understanding what washappening. On either side of her stood Steve and I, covering thegeneral with our pistols, while the Waldgrave, who was still too weakfor much exertion, kept guard at the door.
Tzerclas was the first to speak. 'What is this foolery?' he said,scowling unutterable curses at us. 'What does this mean?'
'This!' I said, producing a piece of hide rope. 'We are going to tieyou up. If you struggle, general, you die. If you submit, you live.That is all. Go to work, Steve.'
There was a gleam in Tzerclas' eye, which warned me to stand back andcrook my finger. His face was black with fury, and for an instant Ithought that he would spring upon us and dare all. But prudence andthe pistols prevailed. With an evil look he sat still, and in a triceSteve had a loop round his arms and was binding him to the heavychair.
I knew then that as far as he was concerned we were safe; and I turnedto bid the women get cloaks and food, adjuring them to be quick, sinceevery moment was precious.
'Bring nothing but cloaks and food and wine,' I said. 'We have to go aleague on foot and can carry little.'
The Countess heard my words, and looked at me with growingcomprehension. 'The Waldgrave?' she muttered. 'Is he here?'
He came forward from the door to speak to her; but when she saw him,and how pale and thin he was, with great hollows in his cheeks and hiseyes grown too large for his face, she began to cry weakly, as anyother woman might have cried, being overwrought. I bade Marie, whoalone kept her wits, to bring her wine and make her take it; and in aminute she smiled at us, and would have thanked us.
'Wait!' I said bluntly, feeling a great horror upon me whenever Ilooked towards the general or caught his eye. 'You may have smallcause to thank us. If we fail, Heaven and you forgive us, my lady, forthis man will not. If we are retaken----'
'We will not be retaken!' she cried hardily. 'You have horses?'
'Five only,' I answered. 'They are all Steve could get, and they are aleague away. We must go to them on foot. There are eight of us here,and young Jacob and Ernst are watching outside. Are all ready?'
My lady looked round; her eye fell on Fraulein Max, who with a littlebundle in her arms had just re-entered and stood shivering by thedoor. The Dutch girl winced under her glance, and dropping her bundle,stooped hurriedly to pick it up.
'That woman does not go!' the Countess said suddenly.
I answered in a low tone that I thought she must.
'No!' my lady cried harshly--she could be cruel sometimes--'not withus. She does not belong to our party. Let her stay with her paymaster,and to-morrow he will doubtless reward her.'
What reward she was likely to get Fraulein Max knew well. She flungherself at my lady's feet in an agony of fear, and clutching herskirts, cried abjectly for mercy; she would carry, she would help, shewould do anything, if she might go! Knowing that we dared not leaveher since she would be certain to release the general as soon as ourbacks were turned, I was glad when Marie, whose heart was touched,joined her prayers to the culprit's and won a reluctant consent.
It has taken long to tell these things. They passed very quickly. Isuppose not more than a quarter of an hour elapsed between our firstappearance and this juncture, which saw us all standing in thelamplight, laden and ready to be gone; while the general glowered atus in sullen rage, and my lady, with a new thought in her mind, lookedround in dismay.
She drew me aside. 'Martin,' she said, 'his orderly is waiting in theroad with his horse. The moment we are gone he will shout to him.'
'We have provided for that,' I answered, nodding. Then assuring myselfby a last look round that all were ready, I gave the word. 'Now,Steve!' I said sharply.
In a twinkling he flung over the general's head a small sack doubledinwards. We heard a stifled oath and a cry of rage. The bars of thestrong chair creaked as our prisoner struggled, and for a moment itseemed as if the knots would barely hold. But the work had been welldone, and in less than half a minute Steve had secured the sack to thechair-back. It was as good as a gag, and safer. Then we took up thechair between us, and lifting it into the back room, put it down andlocked the door upon our captive.
As we turned from it Steve looked at me. 'If he catches us after this,Master Martin,' he said, 'it won't be an easy death we shall die!'
'Heaven forbid!' I muttered. 'Let us be off!'
He gave the word and we stole out into the darkness at the back of thehouse, Steve, who had surveyed the ground, going first. My ladyfollowed him; then came the Waldgrave; after him the two women andFraulein Max, with Jacob and Ernst; last of all, Marie and I. It wasno time for love-making, but as we all stood a minute in the night,while Steve listened, I drew Marie's little figure to me and kissedher pale face again and again; and she clung to me, trembling, hereyes shining into mine. Then she put me away bravely; but I took herbundle, and with full hearts we followed the others across the fieldat the back and through the ditch.
That passed, we found ourselves on the edge of the village, with thelights of the camp forming five-sixths of a circle round us. In onedirection only, where the swamp and creek fringed the place, a darkgap broke the ring of twinkling fires. Towards this gap Steve led theway, and we, a silent line of gliding figures, followed him. The moonhad not yet risen. The gloom was such that I could barely make out thethird figure before me; and though all manner of noises--the chorus ofa song, the voice of a scolding hag, even the rattle of dice on adrumhead--came clearly to my ears, and we seemed to be enclosed on allsides, the darkness proved an effectual shield. We met no one, andfive minutes after leaving the house, reached the bank of the littlecreek I have mentioned.
Here we paused and waited, a group of huddled figures, while Stevegroped about for a plank he had hidden. Before us lay the stream,behind us the camp. At any moment the alarm might be raised. Ipictured the outcry, the sudden flickering of lights, the gallopingthis way and that, the discovery. And then, thank Heaven! Steve foundhis plank, and in the work of passing the women over I forgot myfears. The darkness, the peril--for the water on the nearer side wasdeep--the nervous haste of some, and the terror of others, made thetask no easy one. I was hot as fire and wet to the waist before it wasover, and we all stood ankle-deep in the ooze which formed the fartherbank.
Alas! our troubles were only beginning. Through this ooze we had towade for a mile or more, sometimes in doubt, always in darkness; nowplashing into pools, now stumbling over a submerged log, often up toour knees in mud and water. The frogs croaked round us, the bog moanedand gurgled; in the depth of the marsh the bitterns boomed mournfully.If we stood a moment we sank. It was a horrible time; and the morehorrible, as through it all we had only to turn to see the camp lightsbehind us, a poor half-mile or so away.
None but desperate men could have exposed women to such a labour; norcould any but women without hope and at their wit's end haveaccomplished it. As it was, Fraulein Max, who never ceased to whimper,twice sank down and would go no farther, and we had to pluck her uproughly and force her on. My lady's women, who wept in their misery,were little better. Wet to the waist, draggled, and worn out by theclinging slime and the reek of the marsh, they were kept moving onlywith difficulty; so that, but for Steve's giant strength and my lady'scourage, I think we should have stayed there till daylight, and beencaught like birds limed on a bough.
As it was, we plunged and strove for more than an hour in that place,the dark sky above us, the quaking bog below, the women's weeping inour ears. Then, at last, when I had almost given up hope, we struggledout one by one upon the road, and stood panting and s
haking,astonished to find solid ground under our feet. We had still two milesto walk, but on dry soil; and though at another time the task mighthave seemed to the women full of adventure and arduous, it failed tofrighten them after what we had gone through. Steve took FrauleinAnna, and I one of the women. My lady and the Waldgrave went hand inhand; the one giving, I fancy, as much help as the other. For Marie,her small, white face was a beacon of hope in the darkness. In themarsh she had never failed or fainted. On the road the tears came intomy eyes for pity and love and admiration.
At length Steve bade us stand, and leaving us in the way, plunged intothe denser blackness of a thicket, which lay between it and the river.I heard him parting the branches before him, and stumbling andswearing, until presently the sounds died away in the distance, and weremained shivering and waiting. What if the horses were gone? What ifthey had strayed from the place where he had tethered them early inthe day, or some one had found and removed them? The thought threw meinto a cold sweat.
Then I heard him coming back, and I caught the ring of iron hoofs. Hehad them! I breathed again. In a moment he emerged, and behind him astring of shadows--five horses tied head and tail.
'Quick!' he muttered. He had been long enough alone to grow nervous.'We are two hours gone, and if they have not yet discovered him theymust soon! It is a short start, and half of us on foot!'
No one answered, but in a moment we had the Waldgrave, my lady,Fraulein, and one of the women mounted. Then we put up Marie, who wasno heavier than a feather, and the lighter of the women on theremaining horse; and Steve hurrying beside the leader, and I, Ernst,and Jacob bringing up the rear, we were well on the road within twominutes of the appearance of the horses. Those who rode had onlysacking for saddles and loops of rope for stirrups; but no onecomplained. Even Fraulein Max began to recover herself, and to dwellmore upon the peril of capture than on aching legs and chafed knees.
The road was good, and we made, as far as I could judge, about sixmiles in the first hour. This placed us nine miles from the camp; thetime, a little after midnight. At this point the clouds, which hadaided us so far by increasing the darkness of the night, fell in agreat storm of rain, that, hissing on the road and among the trees, ina few minutes drenched us to the skin. But no one complained. Stevemuttered that it would make it the more difficult to track us; and foranother hour we plodded on gallantly. Then our leader called a halt,and we stood listening.
The rain had left the sky lighter. A waning moon, floating in a wrackof watery clouds to westward, shed a faint gleam on the landscape. Tothe right of us it disclosed a bare plain, rising gradually as itreceded, and offering no cover. On our left, between us and the river,it was different. Here a wilderness of osiers--a grey willow swampthat in the moonlight shimmered like the best Utrecht--stretched asfar as we could see. The road where we stood rose a few feet above it,so that our eyes were on a level with the highest shoots; but ahundred yards farther on the road sank a little. We could see thewater standing on the track in pools, and glimmering palely.
'This is the place,' Steve muttered. 'It will be dawn in another hour.What do you think, Master Martin?'
'That we had better get off the road,' I answered. 'Take it they foundhim at midnight; the orderly's patience would scarcely last longer.Then, if they started after us a quarter of an hour later, they shouldbe here in another twenty minutes.'
'It is an aguey place,' he said doubtfully.
'It will suit us better than the camp,' I answered.
No one else expressed an opinion, and Steve, taking my lady's rein,led her horse on until he came to the hollow part of the road. Herethe moonlight disclosed a kind of water-lane, running away between theosiers, at right angles from the road. Steve turned into it, leadingmy lady's horse, and in a moment was wading a foot deep in water. TheWaldgrave followed, then the women. I came last, with Marie's rein inmy hand. We kept down the lane about one hundred and fifty paces, thehorses snorting and moving unwillingly, and the water growing everdeeper. Then Steve turned out of it, and began to advance, but morecautiously, parallel with the road.
We had waded about as far in this direction, sidling between thestumps and stools as well as we could, when he came again to a standand passed back the word for me. I waded on, and joined him. Theosiers, which were interspersed here and there with great willows,rose above our heads and shut out the moonlight. The water gurgledblack about our knees. Each step might lead us into a hole, or wemight trip over the roots of the osiers. It was impossible to see afoot before us, or anything above us save the still, black rods andthe grey sky.
'It should be in this direction,' Steve said, with an accent of doubt.'But I cannot see. We shall have the horses down.'
'Let me go first,' I said.
'We must not separate,' he answered hastily.
'No, no,' I said, my teeth beginning to chatter. 'But are you surethat there is an eyot here?'
'I did not go to it,' he answered, scratching his head. 'But I saw aclump of willows rising well above the level, and they looked to me asif they grew on dry land.'
He stood a moment irresolutely, first one and then another of thehorses shaking itself till the women could scarcely keep their seats.
'Why do we not go on?' my lady asked in a low voice.
'Because Steve is not sure of the place, my lady,' I said. 'And it isalmost impossible to move, it is so dark, and the osiers grow soclosely. I doubt we should have waited until daylight.'
'Then we should have run the risk of being intercepted,' she answeredfeverishly. 'Are you very wet?'
'No,' I said, though my feet were growing numb, 'not very. I see whatwe must do. One of us must climb into a willow and look out.'
We had passed a small one not long before. I plashed my way back toit, along the line of shivering women, and, pulling myself heavilyinto the branches, managed to scramble up a few feet. The tree swayedunder my weight, but it bore me.
The first dawn was whitening the sky and casting a faint, reflectedlight on the glistening sea of osiers, that seemed to my eyes--for Iwas not high enough to look beyond it--to stretch far and away onevery side. Here and there a large willow, rising in a round, darkclump, stood out above the level; and in one place, about a hundredpaces away on the riverside of us, a group of these formed a shadowymound. I marked the spot, and dropped gently into the water.
'I have found it,' I said. 'I will go first, and do you bring my lady,Steve. And mind the stumps. It will be rough work.'
It was rough work. We had to wind in and out, leading and coaxing thefrightened horses, that again and again stumbled to their knees. Everyminute I feared that we should find the way impassable or meet with amishap. But in time, going very patiently, we made out the willows infront of us. Then the water grew more shallow, and this gave theanimals courage. Twenty steps farther, and we passed into the shadowof the trees. A last struggle, and, plunging one by one up the muddybank, we stood panting on the eyot.
It was such a place as only despair could choose for a refuge. Inshape like the back of some large submerged beast, it lay in lengthabout forty paces, in breadth half as many. The highest point was apoor foot above the water. Seven great willows took up half the space;it was as much as our horses, sinking in the moist mud to the fetlock,could do to find standing-room on the remainder. Coarse grass andreeds covered it; and the flotsam of the last flood whitened thetrunks of the willows, and hung in squalid wisps from their lowerbranches.
For the first time we saw one another's faces, and how pale andwoe-begone, mudstained and draggled we were! The cold, grey light,which so mercilessly unmasked our refuge, did not spare us. It helpedeven my lady to look her worst. Fraulein Anna sat a mere lifeless lumpin her saddle. The waiting-women cried softly; they had cried allnight. The Waldgrave looked dazed, as if he barely understood where hewas or why he was there.
To think over-much in such a place was to weep. Instead, I hastened toget them all off their horses, and with Steve's help and a greatbundle of osiers and branc
hes which we cut, I made nests for them inthe lower boughs of the willows, well out of reach of the water. Whenthey had all taken their places, I served out food and a dram ofDantzic waters, which some of us needed; for a white mist, drawn upfrom the swamp by the rising sun, began to enshroud us, and, hangingamong the osiers for more than an hour, prolonged the misery of thenight.
Still, even that rolled away at last--about six o'clock--and let ussee the sun shining overhead in a heaven of blue distance and goldenclouds. Larks rose up and sang, and all the birds of the marsh beganto twitter and tweet. In a trice our mud island was changed to abower--a place of warmth and life and refreshment--where light andshade lay on the dappled floor, and the sunshine fell through greenleaves.
Then I took the cloaks, and the saddles, and everything that was wet,and spread them out on branches to dry; and leaving the women to makethemselves comfortable in their own way and shift themselves as theypleased, we two, with the Waldgrave and the two servants, went away tothe other end of the eyot.
'I shall sleep,' Steve said drowsily.
The insects were beginning to hum. The horses stood huddled together,swishing their long tails.
'You think they won't track us?' I asked.
'Certain,' he said. 'There are six hundred yards of mud and water,eel-holes, and willow shoots between us and the road.'
The Waldgrave assented mechanically; it seemed so to me too. Andby-and-by, worn out with the night's work, I fell asleep, and slept, Isuppose, for a good many hours, with the sun and shade passing slowlyacross my face, and the bees droning in my ears, and the mellow warmthof the summer day soaking into my bones. When I awoke I lay for a timerevelling in lazy enjoyment. The oily plop of a water-rat, as it divedfrom a stump, or the scream of a distant jay, alone broke the ladensilence. I looked at the sun. It lay south-west. It was three o'clockthen.
We were alone.... I whispered in her ear ...]
A light touch fell on my knee. I started, looked down, and for amoment stared in sleepy wonder. A tiny bunch of blue flowers, such asI could see growing in a dozen places on the edge of the island, layon it, tied up with a thread of purple silk. I started up on my elbow,and--there, close beside me, with her cheeks full of colour, and thesunshine finding golden threads in her dark hair, sat Marie, toyingwith more flowers.
'Ha!' I said foolishly. 'What is it?'
'My lady sent me to you,' she answered.
'Yes,' I asked eagerly. 'Does she want me?'
But Marie hung her head, and played with the flowers. 'I don't thinkso,' she whispered. 'She only sent me to you.'
Then I understood. The Waldgrave had gone to the farther end. Steveand the men were tending the horses half a dozen paces beyond thescreen of willow-leaves. We were alone. A rat plashed into the water,and drove Marie nearer to me; and she laid her head on my shoulder,and I whispered in her ear, till the lashes sank down over her eyesand her lips trembled. If I had loved her from the first, what was thelength and height and breadth of my love now, when I had seen her indarkness and peril, sunshine and storm, strong when others failed,brave when others flinched, always helpful, ready, tireless! And sheso small! So frail, I almost feared to press her to me; so pale, theblood that leapt to her cheeks at my touch seemed a mere reflection ofthe sunlight.
I told her how Steve had made the guards at the prison drunk with winebought with her dowry; how the horses he had purchased and taken outof the camp by twos and threes had been paid for from the same source;and how many ducats had gone for meats and messes to keep the life,that still ran sluggishly, in the Waldgrave's veins. She listened andlay still.
'So you have no dowry now, little one,' I said, when I had told herall. 'And your gold chain is gone. I believe you have nothing but thefrock you stand up in. Why, then, should I marry you?'
I felt her heart give a great leap under my hand, and a shiver ranthrough her. But she did not raise her head, and I, who had thought totease her into looking at me, had to put back her little face till itgazed into mine.
'Why?' I said; 'why?'--drawing her closer and closer to me.
Then the colour came into her face like the sunlight itself. 'Becauseyou love me,' she whispered, shutting her eyes.
And I did not gainsay her.
My Lady Rotha: A Romance Page 24