*CHAPTER XXVIII*
*The Empty Hut*
My Son--Liberty in Sight--Au Revoir!--Suspense--The Open Door--AFootprint--The Trail
While Sowinski was making his way down the hill, a sampan with twopassengers put off in dead silence from one of the junks in theroadstead. The vessel had arrived that afternoon with a small cargo ofrice; she was to ship a consignment of dried fish for Chifu. Theloading was to be commenced at dawn on the following day; she was not tocarry a full cargo, having to fill up with coal at Alexandrovsk; by theevening it was expected that her consignment would be on board, and shewould sail again next morning.
The sampan moved without a splash towards the northern end of the bay,where there were no huts. The fishing settlement extended half roundthe southern end, and the lumber yards occupied the rest of the southernquarter and part of the northern. It was a very solitary spot at whichthe passengers landed, and the sampan-man--who happened also to be theowner of the junk--steering his little craft between two rocks, where hewas secure from observation, squatted motionless, apparently awaitingthe return of the two men whom he had just put ashore.
Making a circuit round the lumber settlement--a somewhat difficultmatter in the dark--the two passengers, one of whom evidently knew theway and walked a pace or two in advance, stopped at a hut a littlelarger than the majority of those they had passed, and gently tapped atthe door. No light was visible; the taller of the two men cleared histhroat as in nervous impatience. A step was heard within; the door wasopened, and a voice asked in Russian:
"Who is there?"
"It is I, graf," said the man who had led the way. "I have a friendwith me."
"Come in, then."
The two entered; the door was gently closed behind them. The outer roomwas in complete darkness; but, leading the way through that, CountWalewski opened a farther door, which led into a second room, dimlylighted by a couple of candles. A man was seated at a table, reading.
"Here is our friend Godunof, comrade," said the count in French.
Mr. Brown looked up--looked again, stared, then sprang to his feet.
"Jack!"
The taller of the two visitors brushed past Godunof, and father and sonclasped hands. For a few moments not a word was spoken by either ofthem; a stranger might not perhaps have guessed from their manner thatthey had been parted for nearly a year--the father a victim of foulwrong, the son ignorant of the father's whereabouts and burning toavenge the wrong. But beneath his iron-gray moustache and beard Mr.Brown's lips were quivering, and Jack had a lump in his throat whichmade him incapable of speech when his father turned to the count and,keeping Jack's hand in his, said simply:
"My son, Count."
Count Walewski was deep in conversation with the other man. He seemedscarcely to comprehend what Brown had said.
"Your son! But--my daughter--you remember her letter; she is here, now,in a junk at the shore; Godunof says so; it bewilders me; am I dreaming?Your son!--they came together; Godunof tells me they have come to takeus away. After all these years!--Brown, this will kill me!"
The count, trembling like a leaf, leant for support against the crazytable.
"Sit down, my friend," said Brown. "We must keep our heads. Jack hascome on a desperate adventure; it takes my breath away; he must tell uswhat it means."
A long conversation ensued--not long in point of time, but in the amountof matter compressed into it. The difficulty of arranging the escapelay in the impossibility of knowing from what quarter the wind would beblowing at any hour that might be determined. Without a favourable windthe _Yu-ye_ could not get out to sea; and it would be madness for Mr.Brown and the count to go aboard until there was a practical certaintyof the junk being able to slip away. As soon as they were missed, everyboat in the roadstead would be searched. And even if the vessel clearedthe bay, there was always a risk of its being followed by the governmentlaunch engaged to patrol the fishing settlements along the coast,perhaps by a gunboat sent from Korsakovsk in response to a telegram.The launch at this moment lay at anchor in the bay, and unless the_Yu-ye_ got a good start and a fair wind, it must inevitably beoverhauled, though the government boat was an old and crazy vessel whosebest work was long since done.
Granted a favourable wind, then, it was arranged that the two, thefollowing midnight, should make their way down to the point at whichJack had landed. If the wind proved unfavourable, the departure must bepostponed. The junk would slip her moorings at the first glint of dawn,and before the escape was discovered Jack hoped they would be hull downon the horizon.
"But what speed can you make?" asked Mr. Brown. "You can't outrun asteamer."
"I doubt whether the launch would venture far into the open," saidGodunof, the colonist who had carried the letters between Gabriele andher father. "She can't stand heavy weather, and a gale may spring up atany moment in these seas. Besides, she'd be chary of meeting Japanesecruisers in the Strait of La Perouse. I wonder, indeed, she venturedinto this bay--no better than an open roadstead, and exposed to attack."
"She only arrived two days ago from Korsakovsk," said Mr. Brown. "Shecame on a matter of revenue; nothing else brings her here."
"Well, we must chance it, Father," said Jack. "We've got here safely,and please God we shall get away safely too. We can run for the nearestJapanese port, and there we'll be as safe as--as in Portsmouth Harbour,by Jove!"
The plan having been discussed rapidly, yet with anxious care, Jack tookleave of the two gentlemen--all three with full hearts wondering whetherthey would ever meet again--and returned by the way he had come.
His return was eagerly expected on board the junk. He had scarcelyclambered over the side when a figure closely enwrapped in Chinese dressmoved towards him.
"Did you see him?"
"Yes, Mademoiselle. He was overcome at the news that you were here."
"And is he well? And your father--both well? Oh, Monsieur Jack, I praythat nothing, nothing, may happen! Nobody knows of your visit?--you arequite sure? You made them understand?--the time, the place, the wind?To think that we have to wait a whole night and day! I can hardlyendure it!"
"I am just as bad, really, Mademoiselle. Lucky for me we have to loadup to-morrow; that will give me something to do. By this timeto-morrow----"
The next day was a time of dreary waiting. It was a bright morning, thesky clear, the sea smooth--too smooth, thought Jack, anxiously whistlingfor a wind. The cargo was taken on board--smelling horribly, butGabriele waived Jack's condolences: what was such an unpleasantnessbeside the larger matter of her father's safety? As the day wore on,black clouds came scudding out of the north; the wind freshened minuteby minute, and the junk began to roll.
"The wind serves!" cried Gabriele joyfully. "Oh for the dark!"
Some time before the hour agreed upon, the sampan was punted to theappointed spot. In it were Jack, Hi Lo, and the owner of the _Yu-ye_.The wind was roaring, the sky was black, the tide full, and the Chinamanhad much ado to prevent his craft from being dashed against the rocks.Time passed; nobody appeared. Jack looked at his watch; it was twentyminutes after midnight. What had delayed the prisoners? Another twentyminutes; he was becoming uneasy. What could have happened? Godunofcould not have played him false; the colonist had not returned to thejunk with him the night before, but since he had received only a portionof the reward promised him, it was unlikely that he had betrayed thesecret. Had the prisoners been delayed by an unexpected visitor? Hadthey started and been caught? All kinds of possibilities occurred tohim.
At last, when the two were fully an hour and a half late, he couldendure the anxiety and suspense no longer. He resolved to go up to thehut, and alone. But when he told the Chinaman what he intended, andasked him to put him ashore, Hi Lo spoke:
"My go long-side masta."
"No, no; you must stay and look after Mademoiselle."
"My no wantchee stay-lo; my no can do. Ma
sta wantchee some piecee manallo-time long-side; ch'hoy! what-fo' Hi Lo no belongey that-side?"
The boy was already slipping over the side of the sampan.
"Very well then," said Jack reluctantly.
Then, turning to the Chinaman, he bade him remain at the same spot untilnear dawn. If by that time Jack had not returned, the man was to goback to the junk and come again when darkness fell on the followingnight. He must find some excuse for not putting to sea, and not let itbe known that anyone connected with the junk was ashore. Above all, hewas to watch over the women.
With great caution Jack and the boy stole round the settlement towardsMr. Brown's hut. Unfortunately, as Jack thought, a bright moon wasshining fitfully through gaps in the scudding cloud; and having to takeadvantage of every patch of shadow when it appeared, their progress wasslow. The wind was bitter cold; the spring-like promise of the earlierpart of the day had been succeeded by a sharp frost, which had alreadyhardened the slush and mud except in places sheltered from the blast.The thin ice on standing pools broke under their tread, with a cracklethat gave Jack a tremor lest it should have been heard. But there wasnot a light or a movement in the settlement, nor any sound save thewhistling of the wind and the booming of the surf on the shore.
Stealthily they made their way up the hillside. They arrived at thehut. The door was closed, the window dark. Jack tried to peer throughinterstices between the rough logs of the wall; he put his ear againstthe wood; he heard nothing, saw no glimmer of light. With a sinkingheart he pushed gently at the door. It yielded to his touch. Heentered, groping in the dark; and bidding Hi Lo close the door, hestruck a match and held it above his head. Feeble as the light was, itshowed enough to strike him cold with despair. The hut was empty, andin disorder. A chair was overturned; a half-burnt candle lay on thefloor; the table was pushed into a corner, and a book had fallen beneathit and stood on its bent leaves. Jack picked up the candle and lit it.The clean boards of the floor were marked with many muddy stains as ofscuffling feet. Dreading to search, Jack yet looked for traces ofblood; there were none. But among the marks one struck himparticularly--a huge footprint, too large to have been made by eitherCount Walewski or his father. Someone had entered before the groundoutside had frozen. But the struggle--everything in the bare hut spokeof a struggle--must have taken place after the fall of dusk, for with apair of old perspective glasses found in the junk Jack had kept a closewatch on the hut, and had seen his father enter, late in the afternoon,with another figure--presumably the count.
Dazed with this sudden set-back to his hopes, Jack sat down on one ofthe chairs, resting his throbbing head upon his hands. A feeling ofutter helplessness paralysed him. Hi Lo stood watching him, the boy'swhole attitude one of mute sympathy. Had the authorities got wind ofthe plot, thought Jack, and again spirited his father away? HadGodunof, the ex-convict, betrayed him? Scarcely, or a police visitwould have been made to the junk, and he himself arrested. He tried topull himself together; he must do something, and at once; but what? Hecould not tell; he was in the dark; and Gabriele in the junk waswaiting, listening, wondering why ere this she was not in her father'sarms.
Bending forward in his misery, suddenly his eye fell on the hugefootmark made with a clay-clogged boot on the white floor. The bootmust have been of quite unusual size; what could have been the statureof the man who owned it? Jack suddenly sprang up; if there was such afootmark within, would there not be others, similar, without? By themcould not the assailants be traced? He was convinced that his fatherand the count had been attacked: should he rouse the settlement? Theirlives might be in danger; in warning the authorities he would at theworst only risk his own liberty. But supposing the authoritiesthemselves should be concerned in the matter! To appeal to them wouldthen be worse than useless; he would merely sacrifice his own freedom,and with it all possibility of serving his father.
Still the footmark stared at him. An idea suggested itself. Could hetrace the man himself? He had never followed any trail but that of apaper-chase; but what of that? It was worth a trial. In a rapidwhisper he told his thoughts to Hi Lo. The boy nodded with fullcomprehension. Jack blew out the light, and pocketed the candle; thenthe two groped their way to the door and issued forth into the moonlitnight.
Brown of Moukden: A Story of the Russo-Japanese War Page 29