streets the lads saw many names of English firms over offices, and the
majority of the shops appeared to be kept by Frenchmen and Germans.
They walked down to the wharves and saw how great must have been the
trade carried on before the war. Now all traffic and business was at
an end.
The great foreign merchants interested in the corn trade had all left,
and many of the shops were closed.
The harbor was deserted, save that a score or two of brigs employed in
the coasting-trade, in the Black Sea lay moored by the wharves with
hatches battened down and deserted decks. A little farther out lay at
anchor two or three frigates and some gun-boats. Looking seaward, not
a single sail broke the line of the horizon.
Returning into the town, they went up some small streets, entered a
small eating-house, and asked for food, for the stock with which they
had started four days before had been exhausted the previous evening.
The landlord served them, and as they were eating he entered into
conversation with them.
"I suppose you have leave out of hospital for the day?"
"No," Dick said, "my comrade and I have got leave to go home to Poland
till our wounds are cured."
"Oh," the landlord said. "You are Poles. I thought you did not look
quite like our men; but you speak Russian well for Poles. There is a
regiment of your countrymen in the town now, and some of them come in
sometimes for a glass of brandy. They like it better than vodka;
curious, isn't it? Your true Russian thinks that there's nothing
better than vodka."
Rather disturbed at the intelligence that there was a Polish regiment
in the town, the boys hastened through their meal, and determined to
lay in a stock of bread and meat sufficient for some days'
consumption, and to leave Odessa at once. Just as they had finished,
however, the door opened, and a sergeant and two soldiers entered.
"Ah, my friend," the landlord said to the former. "I am glad to see
you. Are you come as usual for a glass of brandy? Real French stuff it
is, I promise you, though for my part I like vodka. Here are two of
your compatriots wounded; they have furlough to return home. Lucky
fellows, say I. There are thousands at Sebastopol would be glad to
change places with them, even at the cost of their wounds."
The sergeant strode to the table at which the lads were sitting, and,
drawing a chair up, held out his hands to them. "Good-day, comrades,"
he said in Polish. "So are you on your way home? Lucky fellows! I
would give my stripes to be in your place, if only for a fortnight."
Dick for a moment was stupefied, but Jack recalled to mind three
sentences which the countess had taught him and which might, she said,
prove of use to them, did they happen to come across any insurgent
bands in Poland; for vague reports were current, in spite of the
efforts of the authorities to repress them, that the Poles were
seizing the opportunity of their oppressors being engaged in war,
again to take up arms. The sentences were pass-words of a secret
association of which the countess's father had been a member, and
which were widely whispered among patriotic Poles. "The dawn will soon
be at hand. We must get up in the morning. Poland will yet be free."
The sergeant stared at them in astonishment, and answering in a low
tone in some words which were, the boys guessed, the countersign to
the pass, sat down by them. "But you are not Poles?" he said in a low
voice in Russian. "Your language is strange. I could scarce understand
you."
"No," Jack said, in similar tones, "we are not Poles, nor Russians. We
are English, and England has always been the friend of Poland."
"That is so," the sergeant said heartily. "Landlord," he said, raising
his voice, "a glass of vodka for each of my friends. I fear that my
money will not run to brandy. And now," he said, when the landlord had
returned to his place, "what are you doing here? Can I help you in any
way?"
"We are English officers who have escaped, and are making our way to
Poland. We expect to find friends there. Do you know the intendant of
the Countess Preskoff at--?"
"Do I know him?" the soldier repeated. "Why, I belong to the next
village. I have seen him hundreds of times. And the countess, do you
know the countess?"
"Certainly we do," Jack said. "We have been living for six weeks in
her chateau, it is she who has written to the intendant to aid us."
"You will be welcome everywhere for her sake. She is a kind mistress,
and greatly beloved. It is a pity that she married a Russian, though
they say he is a good fellow. Tell me, can I do anything for you? Do
you want for money?"
"No, indeed," Jack replied. "The countess has taken care of that."
"Look here," the sergeant said. "I will give you a note to my brother,
who is a horse-dealer at Warsaw. It may be useful to you. He knows
every one, and if, as they say, there is trouble in Poland, he is sure
to be in the thick of it, and at any rate he will be able to give you
advice which may be useful, and addresses of safe people in different
towns to whom you can go. Landlord, give me some paper and pen and
ink. My comrades here know friends of mine at home, and will carry a
letter for me."
"Please be careful," Dick said, as the soldier began to write. "It is
possible we may be searched on the way; so do not say anything that a
Russian official might not read."
"Trust me," the sergeant answered, laughing. "We Poles have been
learning to conceal our feelings for generations. Trust me to write a
letter which my brother will understand at once, but which will seem
the most innocent thing in the world to any Russian official who may
read it."
In a few minutes the letter was finished, and the three left the place
together, the sergeant telling his comrades that he would return
shortly for them. He then accompanied the midshipmen, and did their
shopping for them, and, bidding him a hearty adieu, they were soon on
their way out of Odessa, Jack swinging along upon his crutches at a
fair pace. Once fairly away from the town, he took his foot from the
strap, shouldered his crutches and again they trudged along upon their
journey.
They found their walking powers improve day by day as they went on,
and were soon able to make thirty-five miles a day without
inconvenience. Travelling in this way, without any interruption or
incident save an occasional demand for a view of their passport by
some Russian official, they journeyed across the south of Russia, and
ten days after leaving Odessa they entered Poland.
Here they foresaw that their difficulties would be far greater than
before, and that their characters as Polish soldiers on their way home
could no longer be sustained. They took, therefore, the first
opportunity of purchasing two suits similar to those worn by Polish
peasants, and, entering a wood, dressed themselves in their new
attire, and, rolling their dirt-stained uniforms into a bundle, thrust
them into a clump of underwood. Into this Jack also joyfully tossed
his crutches and strap. Dick had long been able to dispense with his
sling, but the wound on his face was scarcely healed, and was still
angry-looking and irritable.
They now trudged steadily along, avoiding all conversation as much as
possible, and making their purchases only in a quiet villages. They
met many bodies of troops moving about the roads, and although they
could understand nothing of the language, and were wholly ignorant of
what was going on, they judged from the manner in which these troops
marched, by the advance guard thrown out in front, the strong
detachments which accompanied the baggage, and the general air of
vigilance which marked them, that the country was in a troubled state.
Once convinced of this, they took care to conceal themselves whenever
they saw troops approaching, as they feared that questions might be
addressed to them which they might find it difficult to answer. There
was the less difficulty in their doing this as the country was for the
most part thickly wooded, the roads sometimes running for miles
through forests. Upon one occasion, when, just as it was dusk, they
had gone in among the trees, having seen a Russian column moving along
the road, they were astonished at being suddenly seized, gagged, and
carried off through the wood. So suddenly had this been done, that
they had time neither to cry nor struggle.
After being carried some distance, they were thrown down on the
ground, and the men who had carried them hurried away. Just as they
did so there was a sudden outburst of musketry, mingled with loud
yells and shouts; then, after a moment's pause, came the rattle of a
rolling musketry fire. The first, Jack judged to be the fire of
insurgents upon the column; the second, that of the troops. For a
while the din of battle went on. Sharp ringing volleys, heavy
irregular firing, the fierce, wild shouts of the insurgents, and
occasionally the hoarse hurrah of Russian soldiery.
Presently the sounds grew fainter, and the lads judged by the
direction that the Russian column was falling back in retreat. Ere
long the sounds of firing ceased altogether, and in scattered knots of
three and four, men came through the wood to the wide open space in
which the midshipmen were lying bound. No attention was paid to them
for some time, until a large body of men were collected. Then the lads
were suddenly raised and carried to a large fire which was now-blazing
in the centre of the clearing. Here the gags were taken from their
mouths, and the cords unbound, and they saw confronting them a young
man evidently by his dress and bearing a person of rank and authority,
and, as they judged by the attitude of those standing round, the
leader of the insurgent band.
"Where do you come from, and what are you doing here?" he asked in
Polish.
The boys shook their heads in token of their ignorance of the
language.
"I thought so," he said angrily in Russian. "You are spies, Russian
spies. I thought as much when the news came to me that two peasants
had entered a village shop to buy goods, but had been unable to ask
for them except by pointing to them, and had given a rouble note and
allowed the woman who served them to take her own change. You are
detected, sirs, and may prepare for the death you deserve. Hang them
at once," he said in Polish, to those standing near. "But first search
them thoroughly, and see if they are the bearers of any documents."
The lads in vain endeavored to explain, but their voices were drowned
in the execrations of the angry peasants, fresh from the excitement of
the battle, and in many cases bleeding from bullet and bayonet wounds,
for the Polish peasants always rush to close quarters. Concealed in
Dick's waistband was found a heavy roll of Russian notes, and the yell
which greeted its appearance showed that it was considered
confirmatory of the guilt of the prisoners.
Upon Jack was found only the letter which the sergeant had given him
to his brother, the horse-dealer. This was taken to the leader, and he
opened and read it by the light of a blazing brand which one of his
followers held beside him. "Stop!" he shouted, after reading the first
line or two, to the men who were already hurrying the lads towards the
nearest tree. "Wait till I have read this through." He read it to the
end, and then beginning afresh again, went carefully through it.
"Bring the prisoners here," he said. "Young men," he went on, when the
lads were again placed before him, "there may be some mistake here.
This letter purports to be from a sergeant of the 12th Polish regiment
to his brother, Horni Varlofski. Now Varlofski is well known to many
of us. I do not know whether he has a brother a sergeant. Does any one
here know?"
Two or three of the men raised their voices to say that they knew that
Varlofski the horse-dealer had a brother who was drafted into the army
as a punishment for having struck a Russian sergeant in a brawl.
"This must be the man, then," the leader said. "The letter is written
carefully, apparently with a view to avoid any suspicion, should it be
opened and read by any but him for whom it is intended; but in fact it
contains assurances couched in language which I understand, that the
bearers are enemies of Russia and friends of Poland, and that every
confidence may be placed in them. Now, sirs, will you explain to me
how you, who speak no Polish come to be in the middle of the forest,
dressed as Polish, peasants, and the bearers of a letter such as
this?"
"We are English officers," Dick began, "who were taken prisoners at
Sebastopol, and have since escaped."
He then proceeded to explain the circumstances of their residence at
Count Preskoff's, of their recommendation to the intendant of the
countess's estates in Poland, of their acquaintance with the insurgent
pass-words, and their meeting with the sergeant at Odessa. When they
had concluded, the young leader held out his hand to them.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I ask your pardon for the roughness with which
you have been treated, and shall never forgive myself for having
without sufficient inquiry condemned you to death. It will be a lesson
to me never to judge by appearances in future. I knew the countess
well before her marriage. Her estates are but a few miles distant from
my own, and I last saw her some three years since, when she was there
with her husband and daughters. By the way," he said carelessly, "what
are their names?"
Dick instantly repeated them.
"Right," the Pole answered. "Pardon me this last test, but one cannot
be too particular when the lives of hundreds depend upon a mistake not
