*CHAPTER XII*
*Corporal Wilkes on Guard*
Amateur Wheel-wrights--Wilkes Disappears--Dodging Dragoons--Night with aPicket--A Roman Bridge--Benevente--Wilkes enters a Protest--OneMacWhirter
Jack was glad to have the chance of doing something that was not merelytrudging through slush. He selected four men to assist him with thewagon--Wilkes, Bates, Tom Plunket, and his own man, Giles Ogbourne, whohad some experience of smith's work. An inspection of the vehicleshowed that the tyre of one of the wheels had broken, and with it one ofthe spokes. It was evident that, unless the tyre were repaired, thefelloe would soon fall to pieces if the wagon were hauled farther overthe heavy road. The first thing to be done was to take off the wheel.Luckily the Portuguese driver had a spanner in the cart, and with thisthe axle-cap was screwed off and the pin knocked out.
"Now, Wilkes," said Jack, "you and Bates will look after the cart whilethe others come with me to find a smithy. The second battalion will beup in a minute or two. If anyone asks, you can explain what hashappened."
Jack started off with the other two men, who carried the heavy wheelbetween them. Reaching the village of Castro Gonzalo, they went alongthe streets in search of a smithy. Every house was deserted; theinhabitants had fled in terror at the news that the French wereadvancing. Nowhere was a smith's shop to be seen, nowhere a person ofwhom to make enquiry.
"There must be a smithy somewhere," said Jack, "even if the smith hastaken to his heels."
"Maybe 'tis along the road to the left, sir," said Giles. "The smithysometimes lies a bit out of the village at home."
"Perhaps. Let us try it."
The three proceeded down the road towards Villapando, in the teeth of ablinding storm of sleet. At a distance of nearly half a mile from thevillage they came to a small stone house at the left of the road.
"Here we are!" said Jack, noticing a horse-shoe nailed on the wall, andsome broken bits of iron by the doorway. "The door's open; the smithseems to have bolted."
He led the way in, and found himself in a dark smithy. The forge wasblack and cold; evidently no fire had been lighted there for some time.
"Now, Giles, kindle a fire. You'll find some wood and charcoal about,no doubt. We must be quick about this, for we don't want to be left inthe lurch."
It took some time to get a good fire alight. The wood was damp, andGiles's tinder-box had not altogether escaped a wetting. But the firewas ablaze at last, and then Jack set to work with the creaking bellowsto blow it to a heat sufficient to weld the broken ends of the tyre.The third man, Plunket, held the iron in the glowing charcoal with thesmith's huge tongs, while Giles stood ready with the hammer to beat iton the anvil.
"I'm afeard it won't be big enough to go round the felly without a bitmore iron," said Giles; "and there don't seem to be a bit of the rightkind here."
"Try it first. The whole tyre may expand enough with the heat."
But when Giles had welded the broken ends, and tried to fit the tyre onthe wheel, he found that it was too short, as he had feared.
"We can't give it up," said Jack. "Look round the place and see if youcan find a scrap of thin iron that will serve the purpose."
After searching in the smithy and the surrounding yard for severalminutes, a strip of iron was discovered which Giles thought might weldwith the rest. The tyre had to be heated again and cut at the cleavage.The small piece had to be beaten until it was of the same thickness asthe tyre, and only after a good deal of patient manipulation did Gilessucceed in forming a tyre of the required circumference. It wasfinished, however, at last. It fitted on the scorching felloe, andafter cold water had been thrown on it from the blacksmith's tank,filling the air with vapour and the characteristic smell of the smithy,Giles declared that the wheel was good enough for another campaign.
"That's right, then," said Jack. "Now we must get back to the cart. ByGeorge! it has taken us a long time. It's past five o'clock, and gettingdark. Raining as hard as ever too!"
They trudged up the road and through the village, expecting to meet therear-guard of the British infantry, or at any rate the cavalry. Butthere was nobody to be seen. They hurried along out of the villagetowards the spot where, in the gathering darkness, they saw the wagonstill standing in the middle of the road.
"But where are the bullocks?" cried Jack, noticing that the shafts andrope traces were empty.
Hastening in advance of the men, burdened as they were with the heavywheel, he came to the cart.
"Wilkes, where are you?"
There was no answer; nor was there any sign of the men he had left onguard.
"This is awkward, my men," he said, as the two came up. "The wheel'sright, but those two fellows and the driver have gone off, and thebullocks with them. We can't move the thing without animals."
"The corp'ril wouldn't budge without he were sent, sir," said Plunket.
"Maybe the French have come up in the dark and captured 'em, sir," addedGiles.
"Nonsense! the French were not so close as all that. I don't fancy ourcavalry have gone by yet. You two fellows fix the wheel on. I am goingback to the village to find a team. I sha'n't be long."
Jack went back to the village in the darkness, going in and out amongthe houses and the gardens, expecting every moment to come upon sometraces of the men and animals. The night was silent, save for the steadydownpour of rain and the dull roar of the flooded river, he knew not howfar beyond. Presently he heard splashing footsteps, then two men rushedtowards him breathless--first Giles, then Plunket.
"The French dragoons!" panted Giles.
"Not our own men?" said Jack quickly.
"No, sir. We heard hoofs, and ran up to the first house and waited; andthen two vedettes came up and stopped at the wagon, and we heard theFrench lingo, sir."
"Then we must make ourselves scarce. Have we time to reach the bridge?"
But even as he spoke, the sound of galloping horses and rumbling wagonscame from the other end of the village.
"We must cut, my men. Follow me!" cried Jack.
Running at full speed along the Villapando road, he did not draw breathuntil he reached the smithy where the tyre had been repaired.
"We must wait here till we know what is happening," he said.
As they stood by the dark forge, they heard the clash of steel and theshouts of officers from the village.
"Soult's men for a certainty," said Jack. "I wonder if our fellows areacross the bridge."
Soon after came a clatter and rumble as of wagons driven furiously, andthen the thunder of horses' hoofs. Crack! That was a musket-shot.Another, another, then a rapid succession of reports, muffled bydistance, struck their ears.
"They're trying to drive our pickets in," said Jack. "Come, men, we musttry to find our own lines, or we shall stand a poor chance of escapingwith whole skins in the morning. All we can do is to cut across thecountry over there; no one will hear us through this noise. Comealong!"
Leaving the shelter of the smithy, he ran across the road into the fieldopposite. Great clods of earth clave to his boots, and it was heavyrunning; but, followed closely by the two men, he pounded on, listeningfor shots on his right, and moving obliquely to the left to avoid theskirmishers who, he guessed, had been thrown out by the French. As heran he found the ground rising in a gradual ascent. The firing stillcontinued in a desultory way, and Jack rejoiced that the night was somurky that he and his men would not, as they ascended the slope, presenta mark to the enemy. They had run for nearly twenty minutes, and werepanting for breath, when they were suddenly brought to a stop by hearingthe click of a firelock directly in front of them, and, as they duckedtheir heads, a shot rang out, followed by the cry:
"Who goes there?"
"A friend--an officer of the 95th!" shouted Jack in answer.
There was a murmur of astonishment. In the darkness several forms wereheard rather than seen to advance, and in a few moments
Jack and his menwere hauled over a rough, semicircular embankment, where they foundthemselves among a picket of the 43rd.
"Where the deuce do you come from?" asked the sergeant in charge,letting go his hold of Jack's collar.
"Look here, my man, I'm Lieutenant Lumsden of the 95th, and--
"Beg pardon, sir," said the sergeant hastily. "No offence. 'Twouldneed cat's eyes to tell a dook from a dustman in a night like this."
"What's going on, sergeant? I want to get to the bridge with my men.Can you put us in the road?"
"Heavens above, sir, you'd be shot in a winking. The bridge is half amile up-stream, and we're holding these heights while t'other half ofthe brigade knocks a hole in it. We're the last picket this way, andas, judging by the sound of it, the Frenchmen are dismounted anda-trying to pass us, and we expect 'em here direckly minute, I'm afeardyou'll have to stay here till morning light, sir."
"Oh, all right! I'll take a hand if there's any fighting. What has beengoing on this afternoon, then?"
"Troops all crossed, sir, except our half-brigade."
"Are the cavalry over?"
"Yes, sir. They came up rather late; and directly they and the guns wasgot over, the general had a hole knocked in one of the arches--cutcompletely through, sir--so that the rest of us will have to swimacross, I expect, if we get through the night. And we'll all bedrownded, sure as fate. Hark to the water a-rushing and raving behindus!"
His voice, indeed, was almost smothered by the roar of the swollenriver. Getting what shelter was possible, Jack and his men passed amiserable night with the picket of the 43rd, and were glad when thedarkness cleared, and they saw once more the grim dawn of another wintryday.
It brought little comfort. The wind had risen to a furious gale,beating sheets of snow and sleet in their faces. Jack and his men wereshivering with cold and ravenous with hunger, though the men of the 43rdshared with them the scanty rations they had. During the whole of thatday, and far into the night, they had to hold their position, ever onthe alert to repel a flanking attack of the French cavalry, who severaltimes galloped close up to the bridge, always retiring more quickly thanthey came before the volleys of the British infantry who lined theheights. More than once Jack thought of making his way along theembankment and rejoining his regiment, but the picket of the 43rd wasalways outnumbered; it had lost several men, and he decided, every timethe opportunity of leaving occurred, that he would stay, thinking that,after all, he could probably do more good in the fighting line than insecurity on the other side of the bridge.
At the bridge General Craufurd kept his men unremittingly at the task ofmining the arches. There had been no time to send an engineer forwardto make the necessary preparations; the men lacked the proper tools; andthe material of the bridge was so strong, and the construction of theRoman engineers centuries before so solid, that the task of penetratingthe massive masonry was of unusual difficulty.
Towards night the spasmodic attacks of the French ceased altogether, andthey withdrew out of range. After several more hours of cheerlesswaiting, word was passed quietly along the entrenchments that the workat the bridge was finished and that the troops were now to retire. Thewet and weary men needed no urging; in dead silence they crept along anddown the heights towards the end of the bridge, where General Craufurd,commanding the rear-guard, was in person superintending the crossing.The middle arch had been cut completely through, but the men had not toswim for it, as the sergeant of the 43rd had anticipated, for planks hadbeen laid across the gap. Jack was among the last to cross, and as hepassed over the narrow, shaking strip of boarding, the impetuous androaring torrent dashed over it, threatening at every moment to carryaway planks and men together. But the last man safely reached the otherside, and Jack, as General Craufurd passed him, heard that fine soldiermutter with a grim chuckle:
"There! We've dished the fools!"
A few minutes afterwards there was a terrific roar, that for the momentdrowned the fury of the torrent; then a blinding glare that flashedalong the gray masonry and shot through the falling rain; and then, witha great crash, two arches and their supporting buttresses fell to thebottom of the river, where they lie to this day. The mine solaboriously excavated had exploded with complete success, and betweenthe French and the English raged the boiling torrent, which effectuallyforbade present pursuit. Mocking cheers broke from the throats of thetired, drenched soldiers; then they turned their backs on the river andmarched on, half-asleep, towards Benavente. Jack looked at his watch;it was just midnight.
When he awoke, at daylight next morning, some minutes passed before herealized where he was. He had no recollection of going to bed; in fact,on arriving in the town he had been so fatigued that he could have sleptin his wet clothes on the road. But his man had been anxiously on thelook-out, and it was to him that Jack owed his bed in the convent wherehis fellow-officers had found lodgment.
His dazed senses were fully recalled to him by the sound of Pepito'svoice humming one of his gipsy songs outside the door.
"Pepito!" he called.
The boy bounded lightly into the room with an eagerness that bespoke, asclearly as words could have done, the affection he now bore towards theyoung Englishman.
"Find Giles for me, my boy," said Jack, "and tell him to get mesomething to eat--something substantial--for I'm ravenous."
When the boy returned, Jack had dressed.
"Find him? That's right. So you got here safely yesterday! You've notbeen up to any mischief, I hope?"
"No, Senor," replied Pepito gravely. "But I can, now that you arehere."
Jack smiled, and then sprang up as Giles entered with a dish that filledthe room with a very savoury odour.
"What's this?" said Jack, sniffing. "Roast hare, by all that'sglorious! Giles, you're a wonder."
"'Twas Pepito, sir," said Giles. "The young varmint went out before'twas light this morning and snared the beast for your breakfast, sir.I allow he makes himself useful sometimes."
Pepito was grinning with pleasure, and Jack without ado devoted himselfto his meal.
"By the way," he said presently, "have you seen anything of those twofellows I left with the wagon?"
A broad smile broke over Giles's ruddy face.
"They was brought in yesterday, sir, under guard, and locked up in theguard-room. They was mad, sir, both on 'em, but Corporal Wilkes theworst. He made a few remarks, sir--" and here Giles gave vent to hisloud guffaw, and instantly straightened his face to its usual stolidimpassivity.
"Are they still locked up?" asked Jack.
"No, sir. Captain Stovin ordered 'em to be released when they'd hadabout two hours of it."
"Go and fetch them."
In ten minutes Corporal Wilkes entered, followed by Bates, each manwearing a look of sullen discontent.
"Now, Wilkes, what have you got to say for yourself?" said Jack sternly.
"Say, sir? I ain't got nothing to say, nor I didn't get a chance o'saying nothing. It ain't common fairness, let alone justice, that itain't, begging your pardon, sir. It ain't for the likes o' me toquestion what an orficer says, sir, to say nothing of an orficer likeBobby--beg pardon, like General Craufurd. But," continued the corporal,his eloquence increasing with his indignation, "but, Mr. Lumsden, sir,what I want to know is, what call the general 'ad to miscall me astraggler, to say nothing o' Bates, and send us in under guard of abloomin' corp'ril of the second battalion--why, we're the laughing-stocko' the regiment."
"There now," said Jack with due gravity, suspecting what must haveoccurred, "I suppose there was some little mistake. Tell me all aboutit."
Wilkes proceeded to explain that a few minutes after Jack left with thebroken wheel a heavy shower of sleet had come on, and he and Bates hadtaken shelter beneath the wagon. From this point of vantage they hadseen the passage of the greater part of the second battalion, which waswhipping in all stragglers from the various other regiments that hadgone by earlier in the day. In the rear of the batta
lion rode GeneralCraufurd with Colonel Wade and other officers, and Craufurd's eagle eyehad at once remarked the abandoned wagon. Riding up to it, he descriedthe two figures crouching underneath, and sternly demanded what theywere doing there.
"I was beginning to explain, sir," said Wilkes, "but before I couldcrawl out into the open, 'Enough of that', says he. 'Come out of that,you skulkers!' Me a skulker! And without sayin' another word hemarches us off to the bridge, where he hands us over to Corp'rilMacWhirter, a feller I've the greatest dislike of. 'Here,' says thegeneral, 'see these two stragglers safe into Benawenty, and hand 'emover to Colonel Beckwith with my compliments'. MacWhirter he sniffed,and it was hard work to keep my hands off him, sir, for blest if hedidn't pass foolish and opperobious remarks all the way to Benawenty,just a grunt here and there, like as if we was pigs, and his twoRiflemen like to bust 'emselves with laughing. Now, sir, what I--"
At this point Captain O'Hare came into the room. Jack, who had had somedifficulty in keeping his countenance, said hurriedly:
"Well, well, it was very unfortunate, but I'll see that it is putright."
As Wilkes turned away, Jack heard him mutter under his breath:
"Yes, and I'll put it right with MacWhirter."
Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of Spain and the Peninsular War Page 15