The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars by G. A. Henty (little red riding hood ebook free TXT) 📕

Rapidly the water fell, until it was level with the bottom of the loophole. Then hours passed away; for the fosse would have to be emptied before the drain leading from the dungeon could be opened. However, Rupert hardly felt the time long. With his hands on the bar and in the loophole, he remained gazing out at the sunlight.

The water in the fosse sank and sank, until he could no longer see it; but he could see the sun glistening on the wet grass of the bank, and he was satisfied. At last he was conscious of a strain on his arm, and withdrawing his gaze from without, he saw that the water had fallen six inches.

It now sank rapidly; and in an hour he could stand with his head above it. Then he was able to sit down on his bed; but when the water sank to a depth of two feet, he again lay on his back and floated. He knew that a thick deposit of mud would be left, and that it was essential for his plan that he should drift to the exit hole of the water, and there be found, with the mud and slime undisturbed by footsteps or movement. Another ten minutes, and he lay on his back on the ground in a corner of the dungeon to which the water had floated him, having taken care towards the end to sink his head so that his hair floated partly over it, and as the water drained off remained so. He guessed it to be about midday, and he expected to be left undisturbed until night.

After a time he slept, and when he awoke it was dark, and soon after he heard steps coming down the stairs. Now was the moment of trial. Presently the door opened and four of the gaolers came in. They bore between them a stretcher.

"This is the fifth," one said, and he recognized the voice of his own attendant. "It is a pity, he was a fine fellow. Well, there's one more, and then the job's done."

He bent over Rupert, who ceased breathing.

"He's the only one with his eyes closed," he said. "I expect there's someone would break her heart if she knew he was lying here. Well, lift him up, mates."

The two months' imprisonment in the dungeon had done one good service for Rupert. The absence of light had blanched his face, and even had he been dead he could hardly have looked more white than he did. The long hours in the water had made his hands deadly cold, and the hair matted on his face added to the deathlike aspect.

"Put the stretcher on the ground, and roll him over on to it," one of the men said. "I don't mind a dead man, but these are so clammy and slimy that they are horrible to touch. There, stand between him and the wall, put a foot under him, roll him over. There, nothing could be better! Now then, off we go with him. The weight's more than twice as much as the others."

Rupert lay with his face down on the stretcher, and felt himself carried upstairs, then along several long passages, then through a door, and felt the fresh evening air. Now by the sound he knew that he was being carried over the bridge across the moat to the burying ground. Then the stretcher was laid down.

"Now then, roll him over into the hole," one said, "and let us go back for the last. Peste! I am sick of this job, and shall need a bottle of eau de vie to put me straight again."

One side of the stretcher was lifted, and Rupert was rolled over. The fall was not deep, some three or four feet only, and he fell on a soft mass, whose nature he could well guess at. A minute later he heard the retreating footsteps of his gaolers, and leaping from the grave, stood a free man by its side.

He knew that he was not only free, but safe from any active pursuit, for he felt sure that the gaolers, when they returned with their last load, would throw it in and fill up the grave, and that no suspicion that it contained one short of the number would arise.

This in itself was an immense advantage to him, for on the escape of a prisoner from Loches--an event which had happened but once or twice in its records--a gun was fired and the whole country turned out in pursuit of the prisoner.

Rupert paused for two minutes before commencing his flight, and kneeling down, thanked God for his escape. Then he climbed the low ramparts, dropped beyond them, and struck across country. The exercise soon sent the blood dancing through his hands again, and by the morning he was thirty-five miles from Loches.

He had stopped once, a mile or two after starting, when he came to a stream. Into this he had waded, and had washed the muck stains from his clothes, hair, and face.

With the morning dawn his clothes were dry, and he presented to the eye an aspect similar to that which he wore when captured at Blois nearly a year before, of a dilapidated and broken-down soldier, for he had retained in prison the clothes he wore when captured; but they had become infinitely more dingy from the wear and tear of prison, and the soaking had destroyed all vestige of colour.

Presently he came to a mill by a stream.

"Hallo!" the miller said cheerily, from his door. "You seem to have been in the wars, friend."

"I have in my way," Rupert said. "I was wounded in Flanders. I have been home to Bordeaux, and got cured again. I started for the army again, and some tramps who slept in the same room with me robbed me of my last shilling. To complete my disaster, last night, not having money to pay for a bed, I tramped on, fell into a stream, and was nearly drowned."

"Come in," said the miller. "Wife, here is a poor fellow out of luck. Give him a bowl of hot milk, and some bread."

"You must have had a bad time of it." the miller said, as he watched Rupert eating his breakfast. "I don't know that I ever saw anyone so white as you are, and yet you look strong, too."

"I am strong," Rupert said, "but I had an attack, and all my colour went. It will come back again soon, but I am only just out. You don't want a man, do you? I am strong and willing. I don't want to beg my way to the army, and I am ashamed of my clothes. There will be no fighting till the spring. I don't want high pay, just my food and enough to get me a suit of rough clothes, and to keep me in bread and cheese as I go back."

"From what part of France do you come?" the miller asked. "You don't speak French as people do hereabouts."

"I come from Brittany," Rupert said; "but I learnt to speak the Paris dialect there, and have almost forgotten my own, I have been so long away."

"Well, I will speak to my wife," the miller said. "Our last hand went away three months since, and all the able-bodied men have been sent to the army. So I can do with you if my wife likes you."

The miller's wife again came and inspected the wanderer, and declared that if he were not so white he would be well enough, but that such a colour did not seem natural.

Rupert answered her that it would soon go, and offered that if, at the end of a week, he did not begin to show signs of colour coming, he would give up the job.

The bargain was sealed. The miller supplied him with a pair of canvas trousers and a blouse. Rupert cut off his long hair, and set to work as the miller's man.

In a week the miller's wife, as well as the miller himself, was delighted with him. His great strength, his willingness and cheeriness kept, as they said, the place alive, and the pallor of his face had so far worn off by the end of the week that the miller's wife was satisfied that he would, as he said, soon look like a human being, and not like a walking corpse.

The winter passed off quietly, and Rupert stood higher and higher in the liking of the worthy couple with whom he lived; the climax being reached when, in midwinter, a party of marauders--for at that time the wars of France and the distress of the people had filled the country with bands of men who set the laws at defiance--five in number, came to the mill and demanded money.

The miller, who was not of a warlike disposition, would have given up all the earnings which he had stored away, but Rupert took down an old sword which hung over the fireplace; and sallying out, ran through the chief of the party, desperately wounded two others, and by sheer strength tossed the others into the mill stream, standing over them when they scrambled out, and forcing them to dig a grave and bury their dead captain and to carry off their wounded comrades.

Thus when the spring came, and Rupert said that he must be going, the regrets of the miller and his wife were deep, and by offer of higher pay they tried to get him to stay. Rupert however was, of course, unable to accede to their request, and was glad when they received a letter from a son in the army, saying that he had been laid up with fever, and had got his discharge, and was just starting to settle with them at the mill.

Saying goodbye to his kind employers, Rupert started with a stout suit of clothes, fifty francs in his pocket, and a document signed by the Maire of the parish to the effect that Antoine Duprat, miller's man, had been working through the winter at Evres, and was now on his way to join his regiment with the army of Flanders.

Determined to run no more risks if he could avoid it, he took a line which would avoid Paris and all other towns at which he had ever shown himself. Sometimes he tramped alone, more often with other soldiers who had been during the winter on leave to recover from the effects of wounds or of fevers. From their talk Rupert learned with satisfaction that the campaign which he had missed had been very uneventful, and that no great battles had taken place. It was expected that the struggle that would begin in a few weeks would be a desperate one, both sides having made great efforts to place a predominating force in the field.

As he had no idea of putting on the French uniform even for a day, Rupert resolved as he approached the army frontier to abandon his story that he was a soldier going to take his place in the ranks.

When he reached Amiens he found the streets encumbered with baggage waggons taking up provisions and stores to the army. The drivers had all been pressed into the service. Going into a cabaret, he heard some young fellow lamenting bitterly that he had been dragged away from home when he was in three weeks to have been married. Waiting until he left, Rupert followed him, and told him that he had heard what he had said and was ready to go as his substitute, if he liked. For a minute or two the poor fellow could hardly believe his good fortune; but when he found that he was in earnest he was delighted, and hurried off to the contractor in charge of the train--Rupert stopping with him by the way to buy a blouse, in which he looked more fitted for the post.

The contractor, seeing that Rupert was a far more powerful and useful-looking man than the driver whose place he offered to take, made no difficulty whatever; and in five minutes Rupert, with a metal plate with his number hung round his neck, was walking by the side of a heavily-loaded team, while their late driver, with his papers of discharge in his pocket, had started for home almost wild with delight.

For a month Rupert worked backwards and forwards, between the posts and the depots. As yet the allies had not taken the field, and he knew that he should have no chance of crossing a wide belt of country patrolled in every direction by the French cavalry. At the end of that time the infantry moved out from their quarters and took the field, and the allied army advanced towards them. The French army, under Vendome, numbered