*CHAPTER IX*
*Some Surprises*
At the Cross-Roads--A Melee--Bagged--Franceschi's Chasseurs--UnderGuard--A Hard Case--Moore's Plans--Reconnoitring--Within theGates--Caged--Blind Man's Buff--A Strategic Move--A Dash on Rueda--AnAlarm--A Chase in the Dark--A Tragedy
About two o'clock on a frosty December afternoon, some ten days afterJack Lumsden's return to Salamanca, four riders were walking theirhorses up a slight incline about three miles out of Alaejos towardsValladolid. Three of them were troopers in the 18th Light Dragoons, thefourth, riding slightly in advance of the rest, was Jack himself, nowwearing his own uniform, and mounted on a fine black charger borrowedfrom the regiment to which his companions belonged. A few yards fromthe crest of the hill, lying back from the road, was a mean-lookinghovel at the door of which stood a little black-eyed girl, who watchedthe advancing riders with her finger in her mouth.
"Hullo, little girl," said Jack in Spanish, pulling up as he cameabreast of her, "are we on the right road for Tordesillas?"
The child gave a scared look at the troopers and fled into the hutwithout replying.
"You've sent the timid little beggar into her burrow," said Jack with asmile. At the same moment a heavy-browed man appeared at the door, inthe rough coat and thick gaiters of a muleteer.
"Ha, my friend," said Jack in a genial tone, "your little daughterneedn't have been afraid of us! Are we going right for Tordesillas?"
"Straight on, Senor," replied the man, with stolid countenance. "Overthe river; you can't miss your way."
"Thanks! Any sign of the French hereabout?"
"Never a man--the saints forbid!" said the man with a scowl. "Theycarried off my last pig six months ago. Gr-r-r! I hate them!"
"Well, they won't trouble you much longer if we can help it. Buenastardes!"
"Vaya usted con Dios, Senor!" replied the muleteer, doffing his hat; andas the Englishman rode off, his little daughter came to his side andwatched with him their retreating figures.
A mile farther on they had just crossed the stream of which the man hadspoken, when Jack suddenly reined up his horse and in a low tone orderedhis men to halt.
"Do you hear anything, Kelly?" he asked of one of the troopers.
The man turned his head aside, and his companions sat motionless, anexpectant look upon their faces.
"Riders, sir!" said Kelly in a moment.
"I thought so," returned Jack. "To our right, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
There was a moment's silence. Behind them came a slight murmur from thefull river, but more distinctly, from some distant point beyond awall-enclosed orchard on their right, sounded the unmistakable clatterof horses' hoofs on the hard road.
"Wait here," said Jack, springing from his horse. "Don't make a sound.I'm going forward to reconnoitre. Hold my horse's rein, Kelly, and don'tlet him champ his bit."
He ran forward, round a slight bend in the road. In two minutes he wasback.
"Men," he said in a low voice, "there's a road to the right, and half adozen Frenchmen riding down towards us. I think they're French--bytheir helmets. We four are a match for the six, eh?"
The men grinned.
Jack rapidly took stock of the situation. The wind was almost due east;he and his men were riding north-east, and as they were the smallerparty, and had been travelling only at walking pace, it was not likelythat the enemy had heard them coming. The idea of dismounting his menand forming an ambuscade at first suggested itself. Jack glanced roundfor a convenient tree or post to which they might tether the horses; butthough there were plenty of trees beyond the orchard wall, the only wayin was a quarter of a mile to their rear. This meant that even if theambuscade were successful two at least of the enemy would be almostcertain to escape, for Jack and his men, with three carbines and apistol, could at the best only account for four at the first volley, andthe remaining two would have a start of half a mile before they could bepursued. On the other hand, if Jack told off a man to hold the horses,his striking force would be reduced to three, and there was always therisk that two of the horses--young Spanish chargers purchased atSalamanca and only half-trained--would break away at the sound of thefiring. For these reasons Jack preferred to trust to cold steel.
Giving his commands almost in a whisper, he drew up his men in lineunder cover of the wall, about thirty yards from the cross-road,ordering them to be in readiness to charge at the word. Each mansilently drew his sabre and Jack uncovered his sword, still fresh aswhen he received it from the makers in Pall Mall. It was not perhapsquite so suitable for the purpose in hand as the weapons carried by thetroopers, but Jack knew that it was of the highest temper, and feltconfident that it would not fail him.
In little more than a minute the increasing clatter showed that theunsuspecting Frenchmen were approaching the cross-roads. There was noslackening of pace as they neared the junction, and Jack inferred fromthis that their route lay straight across the main road towardsCastroduno or Toro. Every second seemed like a minute to him as hewaited for the horsemen to arrive, but after what seemed an interminabledelay two helmets at last appeared beyond the angle of the wall. Jackdrove his spurs into his horse, giving the word "Charge!" and, withtheir leader a pace or two in advance, the three troopers dashedforward. In a few seconds the two bodies met with a terrific shock.The French dragoons, unable to check their progress, had just had timeto draw their sabres; the leading files had half-wheeled their horses tomeet the storm, but the two succeeding troopers were taken square on theflank, and all the advantage of momentum being on the side of theattacking force, the whole four went down like a ship struck by asquall. Almost before Jack could realize what had happened he wasreining in his horse on the far side of the cross-road; three of theFrenchmen were lying motionless on the road, a fourth, dismounted, wasdefending himself with spirit against one of Jack's troopers, and threehorses were scampering wildly towards Toro. He was wheeling his horseround, when, almost at the same moment, two bullets whizzed past hishead. The two remaining Frenchmen had halted before reaching thecross-road, rapidly fired their carbines, and, turning round in thedirection from which they had come, were now galloping wildly away.
"After them, Kelly!" shouted Jack to the corporal, who was just besidehim; and, leaving the other two troopers to secure the dismountedFrenchmen, the two dashed off at a mad gallop. They were a hundredyards behind at the start; the Frenchmen were down upon their horses'necks, shouting to the beasts in a fever of haste. But as luck wouldhave it, they were heavy men; Jack was a light-weight, and before thechase had proceeded for two hundred yards he began to gain, and theinterval between himself and Kelly was increasing. Foot by foot he madeup on his quarry; in little more than a mile he was at the heels of therearmost Frenchman. The man, feeling that he was at a disadvantage,suddenly swerved towards the near side of the road, bending low as hedid so to avoid Jack's blow, and then, as Jack darted past, pulled hishorse on his haunches and wheeled round to meet Kelly. Thinking hecould safely leave this man to the heavy trooper, Jack rode on after theFrenchman in front, and within a couple of minutes had him at his mercy.The dragoon had no time to turn and meet his pursuer; with a horse ofsuperior speed, Jack, coming up behind him, had a terrible advantageover the fugitive, who was painfully twisting himself round in thesaddle to meet the expected blow. Choosing his opportunity, Jack,dropping his own sword, wrested the Frenchman's sabre from his grasp,and next moment drove him into the hedge.
"Je me rends! je me rends!" cried the Frenchman, panting.
"Comme de juste!" gasped Jack, who then turned to see how Kelly wasfaring. He had ridden down and over the luckless dragoon, who, risingpainfully to his feet, called for quarter. Being a strapping fellow,the trooper had been unable to do more than maintain his distance fromthe second Frenchman, who, however, seeing Jack now standing full in hispath, recognized that the game was up, checked his horse, and quietlysurrendered his sword just a
s Kelly came bustling to his side.
Jack Captures a Dragoon]
"Jolly good chase, sir!" said Kelly, as Jack and his prisoner came up."The froggies showed the cleanest pair of heels I ever did see."
"You stuck to it like a Briton," said Jack. "Now we'll get back to theothers and see what damage is done."
With the two Frenchmen disarmed between them, they retraced their steps,the Frenchmen sitting limp and careless, with a resigned expression ofcountenance that tickled Kelly's sense of humour.
"Where do you come from, mon brave?" asked Jack of the man next to him.
"From Rueda, monsieur le capitaine," answered the trooper with a smile.Jack chuckled inwardly at his sudden promotion, and went on:
"And what is your regiment?"
"Mais, monsieur, the 22nd Chasseurs of General Franceschi's cavalry.And little did we think, monsieur, that we should meet Englishmento-day. Eh bien! it is all the fortune of war, and monsieur lecapitaine rides a good horse."
"No better than your own, mon brave," said Jack, not to be outdone inpoliteness. "Well now, how many of your regiment may happen to be inRueda, if I may ask?"
The trooper looked at him with twinkling eyes.
"Non, non, monsieur le capitaine," he said. "You have captured ourpatrol: c'est egal! but you want to know too much. I tell you how many?Non, non; but we are enough to capture all Sir Moore's army before itends its retreat to Lisbon. Monsieur wants to spoil the joke."
"Very well," said Jack with a laugh. "I won't press you; but there aremore ways than one of killing a cat, as we say in English."
He kept up an amicable conversation with the Frenchman until theyarrived at the cross-roads. There he found his two troopers mountingguard over the four wounded chasseurs, and Jack was sufficiently new towarfare to feel relieved and glad that no life had been lost. Thedragoons had made clumsy attempts to bind up their prisoners' wounds,and had allowed the least injured of them to fetch water in his helmetfrom the stream.
"That's right," said Jack as he came up. "We've had an unexpected pieceof luck, my men, and our capture may be important. But we have no timeto lose. We made noise enough along the road to bring up the wholeFrench army if it's hereabouts. Lucky the regiment isn't far behind us.Now help these fellows on to their horses; we'll take them back to thehut we left a while ago, and I'll leave them in your charge while I goon alone and pick up a little information."
"May I come, sir?" asked Kelly. "'Tisn't safe to go alone."
"Safer for one than two. But come along; there's no time to waste, andit's getting dark."
In a few minutes the cavalcade had reached the hut on the hillside. Themuleteer glowered viciously at the prisoners as they were led up to hisdoor, and handled his knife as though he would have liked there and thento take vengeance upon them for the loss of his favourite pig. But Jackallowed no mistake about his intentions; he told the man that theprisoners would remain with him, in charge of the dragoons, until theBritish advance-guard under General Stewart arrived.
"I'm going on to Rueda," he added. "How far is it from here?"
"A league and a half, Senor," said the man.
"That's about seven miles as your Spanish league goes. Kelly, if GeneralStewart arrives before I get back, tell him that there are some ofGeneral Franceschi's chasseurs at Rueda on our right flank, and I'vegone to find out how many. If all goes well I'll be back within twohours."
"Very good, sir!" said Kelly, and then looked as though he would havesaid more.
"Well, what is it?" asked Jack.
"Beg pardon, sir, but you'll be nabbed as sure as a gun. Youruniform--"
"Don't worry, Kelly. I'm going to borrow an outfit from one of ourFrench friends here. Come, mon ami," he said, turning to the sergeantwhom he had captured, "I must trouble you to take off some of yourthings--your helmet, say, and your cloak, your breeches, and your boots;I think they'll be enough."
"Pardon, monsieur le capitaine, but I'm a soldier of the emperor, andthe emperor would shoot me as a traitor if I parted with my uniform toan Englishman."
"That would be unfortunate. But we can't stand on ceremony now; makehaste, if you please."
"But, monsieur," said the man, "the breeches won't fit you."
"They will be a trifle baggy, but no one will be critical in the dark.Come now, hurry up!"
"But, monsieur, I shall be cold, I shall freeze. If monsieur will lendme his things in exchange, perhaps--"
"No, thanks! If you're cold you'd better ask the muleteer to lend yousome things, or, better still, go to bed. Kelly, come and help thesergeant off with his things."
But as Kelly approached him with a grin, the Frenchman unclasped hiscloak and proceeded to divest himself of the garments Jack required.Soon Jack was cantering off on his reconnoitring expedition to Rueda.
By this time it was almost dark, and Jack rode gently, partly in orderto avoid mishap, and partly to spare his horse in case hard work wererequired of him later. His blood tingled with the excitement of hisrecent adventure and with anticipation of the unknown adventures beforehim. Like his brother officers, and indeed every member of the army,from the chief of staff to the smallest drummer-boy, he rejoiced in thesudden change of plan which Sir John Moore had announced about a weekbefore. The news he himself had brought to the general, reinforced byfurther news obtained through Manuel and Juan, and by information thatthe Spanish armies were concentrating, had determined Sir John, onDecember 5th, to countermand his order to retreat. The French, he hadlearnt, were not marching in his direction, but towards Madrid, which,he was assured, was defended by large forces at the difficult SomosierraPass, and would resist to the utmost. He put little faith in theSpaniards' power of resistance, but he saw a possibility of creating adiversion in their favour, and of cutting in between Soult and Napoleonand striking a blow at the former. If Madrid had not yet fallen, hismovement might draw off Napoleon and save the capital, or at any rate hemight make matters so unpleasant, by seizing Valladolid and Burgos, thattime would be gained for the re-equipment of the Spanish armies. If, onthe other hand, Madrid fell, he could still make a run for it. Hetherefore ordered Baird on his left and Hope on his right to moveforward towards Valladolid, while he himself prepared to advance on thesame town by way of Alaejos and Tordesillas, acquainting the Marquis ofLa Romana, who was at Leon, some 120 miles due north of Salamanca, withhis intentions.
A few days after Moore had arrived at this decision he received the newsthat Madrid had capitulated to Napoleon. It was a severe blow. He hadhoped against hope that the Spanish promises would at last be fulfilled,that their boasts would at last justify themselves. Once more theSpaniards had shown their instability. But Moore was not disposed toalter his plans; there seemed every probability of his striking asuccessful blow at the French communications. On December 11th, then,the infantry moved out from Salamanca, General Paget marching with thereserve for Toro, where his brother, Lord Paget, had already arrivedwith Baird's cavalry, while Hope left Alba de Tormes next day to jointhe main body on the Valladolid road. The advance along this road wasled by General Charles Stewart's cavalry brigade, consisting of Hussarsand Light Dragoons. It happened that during the previous week Jack hadmore than once been sent backwards and forwards between Salamanca andAlba de Tormes with despatches and reports, and he had come under thenotice of General Stewart. When the advance was ordered, Stewart,thinking that Jack would be useful in gathering news from the Spaniards,and acting as interpreter in matters connected with commissariat andbilleting, asked that he might be temporarily attached to him as extraaide-de-camp, and it was while riding ahead to enquire about billets inTordesillas that Jack met with the adventure just related.
As he rode along towards Rueda he could not help feeling a glow ofsatisfaction at his continued good luck. But he did not indulge in idledreams. It was now too dark to see, but his ears were keenly alert tocatch any sound that betokened danger, and he told Pomeroy afterwardsthat he felt as sensitive as a ca
t's whiskers. His enterprise wasobviously full of peril, for he had no knowledge of the number of troopsin Rueda, or of that town itself, and it behoved him to go warily. Ifthe French force was large, there would certainly be outposts at somedistance from the town, and every now and then he pulled up his horseand waited, straining eyes and ears for a sound or a light.
At length, when he had been riding for about three-quarters of an hour,he saw, at the bottom of a slight hollow more than half a mile in hisfront, a twinkle of light which he inferred came from a house by theroadside. Dismounting at once he led his horse off the road to theleft, and found that he was in a vineyard where many of the poles usedfor supporting the vines were still standing in the soil. He led hishorse well out of sight from the road, tied him to one of these poles,patted his neck, and then set off to walk through the field, keeping adistance of about fifty yards from the highway. The light shone moreclearly now, and as he approached it he went ever more and morecautiously, stopping at one point to remove the spurs that, in spite ofhis careful tread, made a slight clanking on the frozen ground. Atthirty yards distance from the light he saw that it proceeded from thewindow of a small cabin not unlike the muleteer's behind him. Now everystep he took was as stealthy as a cat's. His pulse beat a little fasteras he came within a few feet of the cabin, though he was barelyconscious of this, so intent was he on the task in hand.
He crept at first behind the hut and waited for a moment. Voicesreached him from within. Pressing his ear against the wooden wall, hedistinguished a few exclamations in French, and then a burst oflaughter.
"They're having a high old time!" he said to himself with a chuckle."Evidently well occupied. I'll chance it."
Stealing round the hut he fell down on hands and knees and crawled tillhe came beneath the window; he then removed his helmet, took a breath,and raised himself inch by inch until he could just peer over the lowersill. For a moment his eyes were dazzled by the light. As they becamemore accustomed to it he saw four French troopers, in the same uniformas the one he now wore, seated at a round table playing cards. An emptybottle stood in the centre, and some glasses were half-full of red wine.Jack inferred at once that the cabin was a sort of impromptu guard-room,from which sentries were posted at the entrance to the village.
"Pretty sentries!" he said to himself. "I wouldn't give much for theirskins if Boney caught them! They're making enough row to drown thesound of an army. So much for that."
Lowering himself with equal care, he crept away, rose to his feet, andset off at a sharp walk towards Rueda. Before long he descried a numberof scattered lights ahead. Then he found himself in a lane thatappeared to lead towards the town. "Here goes," he thought, and withouthesitation struck up the lane in the direction of the lights.
It led straight into the principal street. Jack walked boldly on,thinking that boldness would attract less attention than stealth. Henoticed that nearly all the houses at this end of the place were lit up.Sounds of merriment floated upon the air--a laugh, a cheer, anexclamation of anger, the clink of glasses, the rattle of dice. Therewas a small inn; twenty yards away Jack smelt fried onions, and longedfor his supper. The street was empty, and as he went forward heobserved that the houses were almost all dark, and guessed that theFrench were billeted at the end he had passed. By and by he came to thePlaza, a narrow open space in the centre of the town, and saw what wasevidently the town-house looming before him, a large building in themiddle of the square. He halted in the shadow of a church porch.
"There'll be a sentry posted here," he thought. "I wonder which side ofthe building he is on!" He hesitated for a moment whether to proceed orto return at once, seeing no prospect of obtaining definite informationof the number of the French. "In for a penny in for a pound," he saidto himself; "I'll try another few yards."
He chose the street passing by the left-hand face of the town-house, andstole along on tiptoe. A narrow beam of light fell obliquely across thestreet from an upper window on his left, throwing a luminous circle onthe townhouse wall just above the level of his head. He skirted thewall, and had reached the mid-point of that face of the square, when avoice suddenly arrested his steps.
"Senor, charity for a poor prisoner. A copper, Senor, for the love ofGod!"
The voice appeared to come from just above his head. There was somethingin the tone that seemed familiar, and with a quickening pulse heresolved to test the surmise which had flashed upon him. Retracing hissteps for a couple of yards, he looked up, and there, full in the shaftof light from the house opposite, he saw the barred grating of adungeon, and, pressed against the bars--yes, it was the small elfin faceof the gipsy boy Pepito. "Here's luck again!" he thought. Being belowthe level of the beam of light, Jack himself was out of sight, and heknew that Pepito could only have caught the sound of his footsteps, andmust have addressed him without knowing who he was. Putting his handinto the pocket of his breeches--forgetting they were not his own--hetook out a few copper coins, and stretched his arm up towards thegrating.
"Here you are, poor prisoner!" he said softly in Spanish.
A low exclamation answered him. The coins were taken, and a small leanhand pressed his gently.
"Muchas gracias," said Pepito; then turning to speak to someone behindhim in the cell: "A Christian gives alms to the poor, and four nobleSpaniards and a gipsy boy will not go supperless to bed."
"Four noble Spaniards!" echoed Jack. "Let me speak with one of them."
Pepito disappeared instantly, and his place was taken by a large,heavy-jawed Spaniard, whom Jack recognized at once as the stableman whohad led the pursuit of him from Olmedo. The man looked suspiciously atthe French uniform.
"Hist! I may help you," began Jack, but at this moment he heard theclamp-clamp of ammunition boots approaching from round the corner behindhim. "The sentry!" he thought. "Silence! I will come back," hewhispered.
He crept along the wall on tiptoe, in the direction away from theapproaching footsteps. At the same time he heard from within the cellPepito's shrill voice in song:
"Kosko gry! Romany gry! Muk man kistur tute knaw!"
"Clever little imp!" he thought. "He didn't give me away to hiscompanions there, and now he's trying to smother the sound of myfootsteps."
He turned the corner and waited. The sentry was still approaching withmeasured tread, and when he arrived beneath the grating he criedangrily:
"Tais-toi, maraud! Il faut te taire, ou je vais te bruler la cervelle."
The singing ceased, and the sentry with a grunt resumed his march.
"He's going to make the round of the building," thought Jack. "So willI; but I hope to goodness no one will be passing on the other side."
He tiptoed along and turned the other corner. Not a soul was to beseen. He waited. On this face of the building was the door, over whicha feeble light flickered, and Jack wondered whether it was open, and ifhe would be seen from within. But there was no time for hesitation. Thetramping sentry was coming behind him. Taking his courage in bothhands, Jack slipped along, passed the door safely, turned the farthercorner, and in another half-minute was back under the grating,breathless with excitement.
For a moment he stood listening. The sentry had halted in front of thebuilding.
"Hist! Are you there?" he whispered towards the grating.
"Si, Senor," said the man.
"Now, answer quickly. How many French are in the town?"
"About a hundred, Senor."
"Foot or horse?"
"Half one, half the other."
"And they come from--"
"From Segovia, Senor."
"That'll do. Where's that gipsy boy?"
"But, Senor--"
"Hush! Where's the gipsy?"
"Here, Senor," said Pepito, pulling the Spaniard away.
"Here's a few pesetas. Buy them all a supper from the jailer. Allbeing well, I'll have you out to-night."
Then he thought for an instant. He must make sure his
escape from thetown. What if the sentry were again moving round the square? Steppingsoftly into the road, he picked up a large loose cobble and flung itwith all his force towards the corner farthest away from the road hemeant to take. The stone struck the road several yards beyond thebuilding, and made a clatter as it ricochetted along. He heard anexclamation from the sentry, who set off at a quick step in thedirection of the sound. Without more delay Jack hastened in the oppositedirection, hearing behind him, more and more faintly, the quaint refrainof the gipsy's wild song:
"Kosko gry! Romany gry! Muk man kistur tute knaw!"
He arrived safely at the end of the street. The mirth of the French waseven more uproarious, their fancied security clearly still moreconfident. Out of the town, into the lane, Jack hurried at full speed;past the guard-house, along over the field, among the bare vine-polesuntil he reached his horse again. A whinny greeted him. He sprang on tothe animal's back, and cantered back rapidly in the direction of theValladolid road.
"We'll make a clean swoop of them or I'm a Dutchman," he said to himselfgleefully. "Was there ever such luck--and such bad management! Won'tCharley Stewart be delighted!"
On he rode, keeping his ears open for the slightest sound. He had come,as he judged, within a mile of the scene of his afternoon's adventurewhen he heard the sound of horses trotting. Turning off the road, hewalked his horse for some distance across the field and waited. Theriders were approaching him. He tried to determine from the sound ofthe hoofs how many they were. Then he heard voices--they carried far inthe silence of the frosty night,--and as they came opposite him he heardan English voice say with a growl:
"'Pon my soul, the madcap deserves to be nabbed!"
"Charley himself!" chuckled Jack. "Who goes there?" he called.
The horses stopped, and a voice called sharply:
"Who are you?"
"Lumsden of the 95th."
"Gad, it's the fellow himself. Come and show yourself, you daredevil!Where in the world have you been?"
"Into Rueda and back, sir," said Jack, saluting.
"And what the blazes have you been doing there?"
"Taking stock, sir. There are a hundred French in the town, cavalry andinfantry mixed, and they're all hard at it with drink and cards."
"The deuce they are! No sentries, eh?"
"A few in a cabin this side of the town, sir, but they're busy at thesame game."
"Are they, begad? Seymour, we'll collar this little lot. We werecoming to rescue your dead body, young man, and you've disappointed us.Ride back, there, and tell the squadron to hurry. We'll draw firstblood to-night."
Ten minutes later the whole squadron of 250 men of the 18th LightDragoons, General Stewart himself in command, were on their way toRueda. Jack rode ahead by the general's side--no longer in Frenchuniform, for when the squadron arrived on the scene Kelly came forwardand said:
"Brought these, sir; thought you might want 'em."
He handed Jack his head-dress and cloak, receiving the Frenchman's cloakand helmet in exchange.
"I didn't bring the breeches, sir," added Kelly, "thinking it might be acold change to-night."
"Right, Kelly! and that reminds me that I've borrowed some of theFrenchman's money; all fair in war, eh?"
General Stewart enquired of Jack as they rode how he had contrived topick up his information.
"Famous, famous!" he exclaimed when the tale had been briefly told. "Wemustn't let a man escape if we can help it. If Franceschi doesn't hearof this we may scoop up his whole division. How are we going to escapethe sentries? They can't fail to hear us on this hard road, and wecan't muffle the horses' hoofs."
"If you like, sir," suggested Jack, "I'll go ahead with a few men acrossthe fields and collar them first."
"You want to do it all, eh? Very well; we'll halt when you tell us. Ifanything goes wrong, give us a hail and we'll be on your tracks like thewind."
When he judged that the squadron had arrived at a safe distance Jackgave the word, the general halted, and Jack went forward across thefields with four men to make a detour and come upon the sentries' cabinfrom the direction of Rueda, thereby to deceive the Frenchmen into thebelief that the approaching riders were a party coming out to relieveguard. Jack's men had ridden two hundred yards beyond the cabin, andwere just turning to the left to regain the road, when one of the mendeclared that he heard the sound of trotting horses from the town.
"That's a relief patrol," said Jack. "Ride back to the general, Kelly;tell him we can hardly hope to surprise the town now, and ask him topick up the men in the cabin as he passes. Now, dragoons, forward withme into Rueda."
They set spurs to their horses, and made for the road. Secrecy was nolonger possible; the approaching chasseurs heard them, stopped short,hesitated a moment, then turned tail and made at full speed back towardsthe town, with Jack and his men close at their heels.
"Who's in first, my boys!" cried Jack, rising in his stirrups and urginghis flying steed. On they went, heedless of the road, sparks flyingfrom the hoofs, the horses snorting with the joy of the chase. Into thetown with a clash and a clatter!
"Sauve qui peut! Les Anglais! Les Anglais!" shouted the sergeant ofthe flying patrol. Instantly the little town was filled with noise, theinns belched forth their scared revellers, from every house streamedsoldiers, drunk and sober, some in full uniform, some half-dressed, somewithout swords, some without muskets, the chasseurs clamouring for theirhorses, the officers of Lefebvre's infantry shouting to their men toform up and stand firm in the square. Jack dashed on. A pistol flashedat him; he heeded nothing, keeping his eye on the form of the sergeantwho headed the patrol, and who had now distanced his companions, and wasclearly making in a panic for safety. By this time about sixty of theinfantry had formed up in some sort of order in the square. Giving reinto his horse, the sergeant of chasseurs, yelling incoherentexclamations, dashed into their midst, cleft a way through them, andpelted on towards the other end of the town. At his heels flew Jack,whom in the confusion and the semi-darkness the Frenchmen appeared totake for one of themselves. Behind him he heard the clatter of hoofsand the shouts of Stewart's dragoons as they dashed into the town, thecrack of pistols, the dull thud of infantry muskets, then the clash ofsabres and the yells of wounded men. Still he rode on. "Not a man mustescape," the general had said, and not a man should, if Jack could helpit.
He was now out of the town, and the Frenchman was apparently losingground. Jack spurred his panting horse, and knew by the louder clicksof the hoofs before him that he was gaining on the enemy. But it wasonly for a moment. The chasseur shouted to his horse, flung a mockingcry behind, and tore on at increased speed. On went Jack, his mouth set,determined to run his quarry down if only his horse would hold out.Mile after mile the chase continued; each horseman could hear the pantsof the other's steed, each rode headlong, careless of ruts or stones,Jack hoping now against hope that something would happen to check theFrenchman's career. His own horse was almost done; he remembered that ithad had scarcely any rest for half a day, while the chasseur's wasprobably fresh; and it occurred to him at length that the Frenchmancould easily have outstripped him if he pleased, and must be holding himnow for his own malicious amusement, or perhaps to lure him on till hereached a larger body of Franceschi's men. Just as he was wonderingwhether it might not be the more discreet part to relinquish the chase,he caught sight of lights ahead. The Frenchman was quickening his pace;evidently then he did not expect to find friends in the village or townto which they were coming. Jack endeavoured to get still more out ofhis own breathless steed. On went the chasseur at full gallop into thetown. At the door of an inn a group of men was gathered, some of theirnumber holding flaring torches above their heads. The crowd parted tomake way for the flying horseman, and he dashed pell-mell through theirmidst.
"The game's up!" thought Jack with a sigh of disappointment. "Poor oldhorse! You're done up." He rode into the crowd. "After him!" he criedin Spa
nish, pointing after the Frenchman. "After him, hombres! TheEnglish are at Rueda. Don't let him escape. My horse is foundered;somebody mount and catch the dog!"
But not a man moved in response to his cry. Jack dismounted, tremblingin every limb, and furious with the Spaniards for their apathy. As heled his quivering horse towards the inn, and the throng gathered aroundhim, he stopped suddenly, for there, in front of the inn door, stretchedon his back, lay a soldier, his eyes closed, his cheeks pale in theghastly torchlight, a dark stain marking the frosty road.
"What is it? Who is he?" asked Jack. He looked round, and saw at theinn door a man with a reeking knife in his hand. As Jack passed, theman came forward.
"I did it! One of the accursed French. I killed him!"
He went on to explain that he was the posting-master of the place. TheFrench horseman had ridden up half an hour before and demandedrefreshment; he had behaved with such insolence and brutality that humannature could not endure it.
"He was an enemy of my country, and I killed him!" the man concluded.
Jack shuddered involuntarily, and stepped round the corpse to enter theinn.
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 12