Chapter XX: Nearly Captured

I seemed to have slept scarcely five minutes when a knocking at the door wakened me, and I rubbed my eyes dreamily.

It was Nicholas, with the information that breakfast was ready; so, jumping out of bed, I quickly washed and dressed.

In spite of the early hour, the countess had risen to see that I had a comfortable meal, and to wish me success in my enterprise.

While I ate she superintended the packing of a wallet which was to bear me company to the Eagle's Nest, and for which, later in the day, I felt very grateful.

After a hearty breakfast I thanked my kind hostess again, and promising, if all went well, to return at dusk, joined Nicholas, who had slung the wallet over his shoulder.

The faithful Mecsey was waiting in one of the rooms through which we passed, and he begged very hard to go with me.

I would have taken him gladly, but he could do no good. There was no question of fighting or even of strategy. I had simply to sit in a tree and watch.

Nothing could save me if the Russians discovered I was there; if they did not, I was perfectly safe.

Mecsey was shrewd enough to see the reasonableness of this, but he had attached himself so strongly to my fortunes that he hated the idea of my going into possible danger alone.

He yielded at last, however, kissed my hand, and stood on the top of the steps gazing mournfully at me as I trudged off with Nicholas.

The new day was breaking gloriously as we entered the wood; hundreds of songsters carolled gaily, and the undergrowth was alive with game.

"Your master has plenty of shooting," I remarked to my companion.

"Ah!" replied he, with a wise shake of the head, "the count has been a mighty hunter. But we must hurry; it will be broad daylight soon, and you must be in the Nest before then."

Accordingly we walked faster, Nicholas leading me by tracks well known to him and the rest of the count's household.

At last he stopped and, pointing to a giant tree, exclaimed, "There is the Eagle's Nest! Near the top you will find a snug sitting-place formed by the branches, which will give you a splendid view of the highroad."

He took off the wallet, strapped it on my back, and waited to see me climb the tree.

I had done little climbing for years, and the unusual exercise made my muscles ache; but I had not altogether lost my old skill, and gradually mounted to the spot which Nicholas had described. Perhaps it was a trifle less comfortable than his memory pictured, but in one matter at any rate he had been right--there was a splendid view of the route the Russians must take if they were trying to prevent Goergei from crossing the Theiss.

I removed the wallet, and fastened it carefully to one of the branches; then I took out the notebook which Count Kemeny had provided, and waited.

An hour passed uneventfully, and then in the west there rose up a cloud of dust, which swept towards me at a rapid pace.

It was a body of cavalry--Cossack irregulars, by the look of them--mounted on shaggy, little horses and armed with long lances.

I caught a glimpse as they dashed up, a fuller one as they passed beneath me; then the sand-cloud swept on to the east, and the van of the Russian army vanished in the distance.

Those rough, uncouth riders formed the head of a procession that occupied all the day in filing past.

It was a splendid spectacle, but my eyes grew tired of gazing at it.

Provision-wagons, baggage, ammunition, and stores were followed by field-guns, large masses of infantry, hussars, lancers, and dragoons; then more guns, wagons, foot-soldiers, and cavalry in what promised to be an interminable succession.

As they passed I calculated their numbers, making my entries accordingly; while, about noon, a sudden stoppage of the procession gave me a capital opportunity of investigating the interior of the wallet.

The halt lasted two hours, when the march began again, and evening had fallen before the last stragglers went by.

Then I put away my notebook, strapped the empty wallet to my back, and prepared to descend.

I moved very slowly and with the utmost caution, as my limbs were terribly cramped, and I was half afraid of missing my footing and slipping to the bottom.

However, I succeeded, and found Nicholas ready to pilot me back to the house.

"Your master has not been troubled by the Russians?" I asked.

"A friendly visit from half a dozen officers," replied he; "nothing more."

"And Mecsey Sandor?"

"Kept in the background while they stayed."

Mecsey ran out from the courtyard at my approach to make sure I had returned unhurt; but once certain of that, he became stolid as ever.

"Get the horses saddled," I said, before entering the house. "We shall start soon."

"Not to-night, captain, surely?" cried my hostess, whom I had not noticed standing on the steps. "The count will be so disappointed. He has reckoned so much on your company this evening."

"And I would very much like to stay; but in a matter of duty a soldier has no choice."

"That is what Arnim feared you would say. However, you cannot go until after dinner."

"It's rather a queer way of entertaining one's guest," laughed the count as we entered--"to set him on a perch all day long. I hope you have not suffered martyrdom in vain?"

"No. Thanks to your kindness, I can take the general the fullest particulars of the enemy's force."

"And Captain Botskay wishes to go at once," said my hostess.

The count sighed. "We must not keep him," he said. "His information may be of the utmost importance to the general. But you will dine before going, captain, will you not?"

Now to this I readily consented, as it gave me a little further time with my host, for whom I was beginning to feel a warm friendship.

After dinner I sat half an hour longer, while Mecsey got the horses ready, and then I was reluctantly compelled to say farewell.

"Take care of yourself," said the count, "and come and see us whenever you have a chance. We are rather lonely here."

"Good-bye, Captain Botskay," said his wife; "and I hope sincerely that no harm will come to you in this cruel war."

I promised to visit them again should opportunity arise, and, with a last hand-shake, joined Mecsey, who had the horses ready.

Nicholas, too, came to guide us a few miles on the road, and amidst the cheers of the domestics the three of us set off.

Mecsey and Nicholas were good company for each other. I rode a short distance behind them, wondering if I should find Goergei in time for my information to be of use.

The night was fine, calm, and still. There was no moon, but the stars glittered in myriads overhead, serving to show the route.

In those days our best roads were shocking to a stranger, but the cuts across country were simply abominable.

Several times that night I escaped a nasty--perhaps fatal--accident solely through the intelligence of my horse.

Having accompanied us five or six miles, and given Mecsey full directions as to the way, Nicholas pulled up, wished us farewell, and started for home.

"He's dreadfully afraid of leaving the count long at a time," said Mecsey. "He looks on himself as a sort of bodyguard."

"He's evidently an affectionate and faithful servant. Now, if you know the road, we'll go a little faster. The horses have had a splendid rest and plenty of corn; they ought to carry us well."

Of course there was always the danger of falling in with a detachment of the enemy's troops, but I thought this less likely to happen at night than in the daytime.

From his own knowledge of the district, and helped by some directions from Nicholas, Mecsey found the way with little difficulty, and for several hours we rode at a brisk pace over a broad plain.

Thanks to the kindness of the beautiful countess, we had plenty of provisions for man and beast, and about six o'clock we stopped for rest and breakfast.

By this time I was so tired that my eyes would hardly stay open, and Mecsey pressed me to have an hour's sleep.

"We shall save time in the end," he urged. "The animals will be fresher for an hour's rest; in fact, they won't travel much farther without."

"And what about yourself?"

"I had a long sleep yesterday."

"Then keep a good lookout for the enemy, give the horses a feed, and call me in an hour."

I lay down, drew my cloak round me, and lost consciousness almost before my head touched the ground.

Mecsey wakened me, according to promise; we then ate a hurried breakfast, and started again, now in broad daylight.

The brief halt had done me a world of good. I was much brighter, and felt capable of riding all day.

As it chanced, however, the Russians did not give me the opportunity of trying.

We had left the great plain and entered a mountainous district when Mecsey, who was in front, suddenly stopped his horse and held up a finger in warning.

"What is it?" I asked in a whisper, getting close to him.

"Soldiers!" he answered promptly. "Russians!"

We were half-way through a narrow gorge, with huge limestone cliffs on either side of us, and with no way of escape but by going straight on or turning back.

Mecsey's sharp ears had detected the noise made by the soldiers before they were in sight.

"They are behind us," I said quietly.

"And on our right. There must be a regiment."

"Well, there's no going back, so we must keep straight on. If once we get out of the gorge they can whistle for us."

Mecsey shook his head, saying, "We can try."

This did not sound very promising; but Mecsey, though brave as a lion, was not the most cheerful of men.

"Let us go," I said. "It's our only chance."

The Russian leader, unfortunately for us, was a man who knew his business; and, before the main body of his troops marched through the gorge, he had sent a detachment along the cliffs in search of a possible ambuscade.

A loud shout and the discharge of many muskets proclaimed that we were discovered.

"Push on!" I exclaimed. "We must get through somehow."

It was a poor place for fast travelling, but we went as rapidly as our horses could take us.

The shouts from the cliffs were now repeated in our rear, and several bullets whistled unpleasantly about our ears.

Still we kept going until Mecsey came in sight of the outlet from the gorge; then he pulled up once more with a gesture of despair.

There was little need for questioning or speech of any kind; a body of grey-coated infantry was drawn across the narrow exit.

Just for one moment I thought of making a dash at these stolid warriors and trying to cut my way through; but I had sufficient sense left to recognize the madness of the scheme.

Without speaking, we turned and rode back in our tracks.

We could now see the head of the column approaching, and I felt like a rat in a trap.

The Russians, understanding how completely we were in their power, treated the matter as a rich joke, and the men on the cliffs stopped firing.

"Let me have the book for the general," said Mecsey, "and I will try to escape. If you surrender they won't harm you."

"But what can you do?"

"Leave the horse and try to scale the cliffs."

"All right. We'll both try. I mean Goergei to have that list. Swing yourself off. Now!"

I did not like abandoning the gallant animal that had carried me through so many dangers, but there was no help for it; and, indeed, I had little time to spend in regrets.

Directly the Russians saw our plan, those on the opposite cliffs discharged their muskets, while the head of the column quickened its pace.

Whiz! whiz! came the bullets, singing overhead or chipping the rocks beside us--much too near in either case for comfort.

At first we managed to dodge them pretty well behind the boulders, but we should soon have to move out into a more exposed position, and it did not require an extra amount of brains to foretell what would happen then.

However, we were having a try for our lives, and that was more satisfactory than sitting still to be killed; but we were rapidly approaching the end of our tether.

The men on the opposite cliffs could not fire now for fear of hurting their comrades, who came after us in full cry for all the world like dogs on the track of a boar.

Suddenly Mecsey's foot slipped and he fell, but he was up again in an instant.

"Hurt?" I asked anxiously.

"It's nothing," he said--"nothing. Look! Look just above us! There is a hole in the rocks. If we could get inside there we might hide."

I did look, and saw a huge fissure in the cliffs several yards in length and about six feet in depth.

Certainly it might help us, but I hardly thought so.

The soldiers would see us enter, and would follow. It was not as if they numbered only a half-dozen or so.

Still, it might be worth trying for; and we pushed on recklessly, running, climbing, jumping, scrambling--any fashion, so as to get there.

The Russians had been shouting and jabbering behind us, and it was much easier to understand the meaning of the bullets than of the words; but now the noise stopped, and a strong, clear voice shouted in German,--

"Surrender yourselves! I pledge my word that you shall not be hurt."

"Come, captain," cried Mecsey, who did not understand this offer; "here we are. In you go. It's dark at first, but you'll soon get used to it."

"For the last time," cried the Russian officer; "will you surrender?"

We were inside the cavern now, but I showed myself at the mouth and asked for five minutes' grace.

For myself there was but one course open--to return to Goergei. Death alone could absolve me from that duty; but there was no need to sacrifice my trusty servant.

Accordingly, I told him of the Russian's offer, and urged him to accept it.

"You will save your life," I said, "and there is really no sense in your getting killed. Let me tell the Russian officer that you surrender."

Mecsey looked at me proudly. "I am a Magyar," he said, as if that settled the question.

And it did with me.

I urged him no more, but turned again to the enemy.

They, meanwhile, by command of their leader, had halted, and were gazing at us curiously. It seemed strange to them to be called off their prey at the moment of running it to earth.

The officer was well in advance, and I saw by his face that he would gladly save our lives.

"You will surrender?" he questioned; but I shook my head.

"That is stupid. You cannot escape. I shall send my men in there, and you will be-- Ach! what folly!"

"Many thanks for your offer," I said lightly, "but we must refuse. Now you are at liberty to fire," and I sprang back into the shadow.

As far as I could judge, we were in a cavern of vast extent, having a low roof; and I began to think that, after all, we stood a good chance of escaping.

It was hardly likely that a large body of soldiers would be set to search long for two runaways; and, of course, I was well aware that some of these limestone caves extended for miles into the very heart of the mountains.

Had this immense rock-chamber a second outlet?

I asked myself this question as we rushed over the damp, uneven floor, and a sharp exclamation of joy from Mecsey answered it.

Just as the Russians entered, we made our exit by way of a narrow passage, through which a stream ran.

We dashed on, followed by, perhaps, twenty of the enemy, who carried torches; the others were searching the cavern.

Gradually the passage became wider, then it contracted once more, and finally opened into a second chamber, from which two passages branched.

We had little time for choice. The Russians, yelling and waving their torches, were not far in our rear. Whatever we did must be done at once.

Mecsey was for turning to the right; but I, pointing to the stream, said, "Where that goes we can go," which was true, but not in the sense I meant.

Mecsey nodded. It was for me to give orders, for him to obey.

We ran on, with the roar of the water in our ears, the yell of the enemy behind us, but in front a chance of safety.

The Russians had traversed the narrow passage; they were in the second chamber. I looked back and saw their torches, some turning to the right, but the majority, unfortunately, keeping straight on our track.

They were creeping nearer and nearer, while Mecsey was slackening his pace.

The long ride and the absence of sleep had told upon him; he was tired; he could not keep on; surely he was stopping--had stopped. I sprang forward to catch him in case he fell, and my heart almost ceased beating.

The river had taken a sudden dip downwards and disappeared. The chamber had come to an end; we were caught.

"We can kill three or four," said Mecsey quietly.

At sight of us standing there the Russians set up a yell of triumph, waving their torches wildly; but we were not in their hands as yet.

"Mecsey," I said, "do you hear me?"

"Yes, captain."

"We've come to the end of our tether, and you must give yourself up. That's not advice, but an order from your officer. The Russians will treat you kindly; and when you are set free, carry news of me to the general and to Colonel Rakoczy."

"Where are you going, captain?"

"To Goergei or to death. I don't know which."

"I am not to fight?"

"No. Put your weapons down, and mine."

The Russian officer must have seen this performance, as I heard him calling off his men; and though I had not intended to deceive him, his mistake gave me a little extra time. This I utilized to take off my boots, a proceeding which greatly interested Mecsey; and then the Russian leader approached us.

"You have made a plucky attempt," he said in German, "but the luck is against you. Now, you yield yourself prisoner, and we will return together like good friends."

He was a nice fellow, that Russian officer, and I learned later that his courage equalled his generosity.

His German was far from good, but I understood him, and smiled.

Then, with a last word of farewell to Mecsey and a friendly gesture to my courteous enemy, I jumped into the river, which disappeared beneath the rocks.

Before striking the water I had filled my lungs with air, and it was well for me that I had done so.

I was a strong swimmer, but strength could avail nothing in this desperate venture.

The waters seized and swept me along, whither I knew not. There was a roar of thunder in my ears; my lungs felt like bursting.

Once, and to my recollection only once, my head was above the water, and I took a good deep breath.

The black flood caught me again and rushed on, swirling and eddying, holding me helpless as an infant in its grasp. Then, when the agony became wellnigh insupportable, I was able to breathe again, and, to my astonishment, saw the blue sky above my head.

At this I tried to smile; but all was suddenly blotted out. Something seemed to take me under the shoulders, to give me a push forward, and after that I lost consciousness.