Chapter XXI: Sergeant Linham Takes Command

There was for the moment no means of telling what was befalling their comrades; and the imprisoned Lancers pounded and thundered at the door and sides of their prison, but without avail.

In a few minutes they desisted, when they heard a sputtering volley, replied to by a sharper one. A ringing cheer, undeniably British, followed; then a clatter of hoofs, a chorus of cries, and all was quiet again. Some little time passed in anxious uncertainty.

‘I wish I had my hands on the rogue who locked us in,’ cried Will savagely, battering upon the door.

‘Don’t do that!’ said the sergeant sharply. ‘We’re in rather a tight fix, and we shall have to be very careful how we act. I take command, and no man moves except by my orders.’

The ring of authority in the sergeant’s voice was unmistakable. Though the trumpeters made fun of him, he was yet known as a brave soldier and one who had seen much war-service; therefore, apart from the right which his rank conveyed, all were ready to yield him unquestioning obedience.

The interior of the place was examined; it was well and solidly built, partly of bricks, partly of timber. The door fitted well and was securely fastened. There was a small window perched high up, and several places that would serve well either as peep or loopholes. In the door, just above the lock, was a round hole, cut so that any one on the outside could put his hand through and raise the latch on the inside.

Sergeant Linham took up his position at the little window, the others at various peep-holes, all on the alert. They had not long to wait. The sly-looking boy with the orange-coloured sash came cautiously creeping into the yard, followed by about twenty dismounted Cossacks and some Hussars wearing the same green-and-orange uniform as the man who had escaped from the wounded Cossack captain’s room. The Russians all carried carbines, and appeared to be waiting a signal to open fire.

‘Boys,’ said Sergeant Linham, ‘have your pistols ready. Remember the motto of the regiment, “Death or Glory!” These fellows may have our dead bodies; they mustn’t have our live ones. Ha, hum!’

The Russians with their carbines fired a few volleys at the door, the bullets coming through it. Then one fellow advanced with the key of the barn in his hand, his comrades, having drawn their swords, coming close behind him as though they intended rushing in as soon as the door was opened and slaying all within.

‘When I give the word fire,’ said Sergeant Linham, ‘let each cover a man.’

The trumpeters placed the muzzles of their pistols through chinks in the walls. Pearson aimed through the hole in the door. Sergeant Linham allowed the Russians to get quite close; then he said calmly, ‘Fire!’

Four reports rang out, and when the smoke had cleared off the Lancers saw the Russians dragging away three wounded comrades. In another minute they made a second attempt. Four more reports, and then a second retreat took place.

‘They will unlock the door in a few minutes,’ said the sergeant. ‘I observed that there were two staples and a cross-bar inside. Let us put that up; it will keep them out a bit longer.’

This was done, and then returning to their positions the four saw that the men outside had been reinforced till they numbered quite fifty. These, pushed on from behind by an officer, rushed up to the door, which they unlocked and tried to throw open. The beam prevented them, when with their sword-hilts and carbines they hammered on the wood.

‘Fire as quickly as you can!’ cried Linham; and the pistols rang out.

Then Pearson, seized with an idea, took up his lance, and, rolling the flag round the shaft, placed the point through the hole in the door and lunged out twice with terrible effect. The screams of the two men he wounded, in ordinary times, would have made the blood of the defenders run cold; but their fighting spirit was now aroused, and they gave a wild hurrah.

‘Well done, boys,’ cried the sergeant; ‘they’ve got a bit more than they can stomach I think. I never heard of a foreigner yet who liked British steel.’

The Russians, in fact, fell back, having so far got much the worst of the encounter. The four in the barn were wondering what would be the next move, when the Russians again opened a sharp carbine-fire on the barn. Many of the bullets penetrated and _pinged_ uncomfortably close to the Lancers.

‘Throw yourselves on the ground,’ said Sergeant Linham; and there they remained until the firing was over. They then returned to their posts, as another attack on the door was made; but their four shots proving they had not been killed or disabled, the Russians drew off out of sight. It grew dark, and for a long time the Lancers were silent. Then Sergeant Linham burst into a grim chuckle.

‘What are you laughing at, sergeant?’ asked Pearson.

‘The toads! we’ve got them in a corner,’ he said; ‘they have no field-piece, or they could blow the place to bits in ten minutes. Then they might burn us out; but the wind is blowing towards the house, which would most likely catch fire and burn their precious wounded captain. They’re in a fix.’

‘Sooner or later, though, they must have us if we remain here!’ cried Jack. ‘If we could undo the door we might mount, charge out, and cut our way free.’

Jack went to the door, and without any particular idea pushed his hand through the round hole. He gave an involuntary exclamation of joy. The key was in the lock where the Russians had left it, though they had turned it before retreating. In an instant he had communicated the fact to his friends and their plans were laid. The horses were still saddled, so girths were tightened and bits adjusted. Jack put through his hand and gently turned the key in the lock; the bar was then removed, and all four mounted when the door was noiselessly opened, and they prepared to gallop out. Sergeant Linham and Pearson were to go first, Jack and Will last.

At a word from the sergeant they trotted out and had got to the gate of the yard ere the noise of their escape was heard. Half-a-dozen dismounted Cossacks ran towards them. There was a shout, a sputtering of shots, then the Lancers were galloping for life down the village street. A clump of mounted Hussars barred their way.

‘Knee to knee, boys!’ cried Sergeant Linham. ‘Death or glory!’ and with a crash the Lancers met the Russians.

The charge was so sudden and unexpected that they went through like a knife through butter.

‘Hurrah for Old England!’ shouted Pearson, waving his lance, and they galloped on, several shots being fired at them.

Sergeant Linham got a ball through his lance-cap, another struck the shaft of Pearson’s lance; but on they went till they were clear of the village. When some distance from it Will’s horse suddenly sank to the ground.

‘What’s the matter?’ asked Jack as they all drew rein.

A hasty examination showed the poor beast had received a bullet in its chest.

‘Gallant friend,’ said Will,’ you’ve borne me well and done your best. Had you fallen in the village I should have been killed or captured.’

There was nothing to be done, so Jack drew his pistol and put Will’s horse out of its misery, after which Will mounted behind Jack, and, unpursued, they went on, guided by Sergeant Linham, who, old campaigner as he was, could tell his way by the stars.

Presently, away on their left, the glimmer of a line of camp-fires took their attention.

‘Our chaps,’ said Pearson. ‘I wonder at their bivouacking so far from the camp.’

‘It can’t be our outlying pickets at this distance,’ said the sergeant. ‘Yet, I don’t know. Perhaps we’ve come farther than we think.’

‘At any rate, we’d best advance cautiously,’ said Jack; ‘when we’re nearer we’ll go and reconnoitre.’

They advanced as close as they thought wise; then they halted. They were on rising ground, and on the road below them, which led through a valley, men, and what looked like a long line of wagons, could be dimly seen; but in the darkness nothing could be distinguished for certain.

‘Let Will and I creep forward and see who and what they are,’ said Jack; ‘we’re lighter and smaller than you or Pearson, and can move more easily.’

The sergeant demurred at first, but Jack pressed his point. He and Will divested themselves of swords, spurs, caps, trumpets, and bugles; then, having nothing on them that would glitter or jingle, and armed only with their pistols, they started off.

Quite noiselessly they moved forward until, as they got closer to the camp-fires, they could distinctly make out figures in uniforms, clearly Russians by their caps, moving about between the fires. They advanced still closer, and then they could see long lines of wagons--scores, nay, hundreds it seemed--drawn up beside the road. The native drivers were seated together in groups, eating their supper. It was clearly a convoy, and a large one too.

The trumpeters rejoined their companions and reported.

‘If we could only capture the lot,’ said Jack, ‘it would be glorious.’

‘We can do nothing against hundreds,’ muttered Linham.

‘But if we could find the rest of our troop and bring them along?’ suggested Jack.

‘Just what I was thinking,’ said Linham. ‘On with your things, boys; we’ll have a try.’

In a couple of minutes they were on their way again, and Sergeant Linham guided them so truly that they went straight on until suddenly, from the shadow of some trees in front, two mounted figures appeared. Instantly the cold moonbeams fell on the barrel of a carbine, and a stern voice cried, ‘Who goes there? Halt, or I fire.’

‘Friends!’ cried Sergeant Linham joyfully.

‘Stand, friends, and give the countersign,’ came the sharp response, as the carbines of the two Hussar vedettes were pointed straight at them.

‘We don’t know the word. We’re four of the 17th Lancers left behind in the village we halted at this afternoon.’

‘Stay where you are,’ came the reply; ‘the sergeant of the picket will examine you.’

‘Bedad, we don’t want no sargint,’ cried a rich voice; and Larry O’Callaghan came running forward. ‘It’s old Hooky-beak and my two chums of the 17th. I can see ’em.--The saints be praised, ye’ve cheated thim divils of Russians, bhoys,’ he cried, ‘for I’ve been breaking me heart to think as ye was done for. Hurroo! come on!’ and in a few minutes the four Lancers found themselves standing before a fire in one of the cottages of the deserted village in which the detachment had halted for the night.