CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
SAVED FROM THE DEEP.
More than an hour of misery and terror passed as Tony and Phil clung,half-submerged, to their gratings, and as they held on, the sound ofhuge waves, breaking upon the iron-bound coast to which they were fastapproaching, grew louder. Phil pulled upon the rope which kept theirfragile rafts together and shortened it, bringing them close alongsideone another.
"Good-bye, old man!" he shouted, between two gusts of wind.
Tony's mouth opened and he bellowed something, but the words werecarried away on the gale. Conversation, even by shouting, beinghopeless, they once more fell into despairing silence.
"What has happened?" cried Phil half an hour later. "We seem to haveleft the crash of waves on the cliff behind us, and already the seaseems to be going down."
Tony crept closer. "The wind ain't going down," he shouted hoarsely."It's blowing stronger if anything, and though we lies low in the water,we're bowling along in fine style. Can't make it out, mate; this seagoing down looks as if we'd been washed into some sheltered cove.Anyway we shall know soon," and he jerked his arm to the right, wherealready the black clouds were lifting.
Half an hour passed, when Phil suddenly caught sight of high cliffs toright and left, while on the summit of one of them seemed to be a fort,for the white masonry was distinctly visible. He stared through thegloom and sweeping sheets of spray, and thought he detected another forton the opposite side. A few minutes later they were washed through alarge opening in the cliffs, and the forts flashed by on either side; atthe same moment the sea became still quieter, and the roar of the windseemed left behind them.
"I think I saw a fort on either side," cried Phil, "and as I know thereis only one harbour on this coast with high cliffs and forts, I feelcertain that we are drifting into Sebastopol. Great Scott! We shall bemade prisoners again."
Tony groaned. "Can't be helped," he shouted, suddenly brightening. "Ifwe are, why, it'll just give us the fun and excitement of escapingagain. But, old friend, this here's an escape from sudden and horribledeath, and if it hadn't been that the Almighty up there, above themblack clouds, had been keeping His eye on us, we'd have been washingabout amongst the fishes hours ago."
Tony looked upwards to the sky, and his lips moved. Phil watched himcuriously, and there, tossing on the storm-troubled water, offered up aprayer for his safety so far. Nor could he help contrasting Tony'scondition of mind as it was at that moment with what it had been whenfirst he made his acquaintance in the menagerie many months before.
"Hallo! What's that over there?" he suddenly shouted, catching sight ofa dark mass in the water. "It looks like a piece of wreckage. Perhapsthere is someone on it."
Both stared at the object which, being much larger and higher out of thewater, bore down upon them quickly. There was no doubt now that it wasa portion of a ship, perhaps of the wrecked _Columbine_, and in the hopethat it was, Phil and his friend dipped their hands in the water andslowly propelled themselves so as to lie in its path.
"I can see something red on it," said Phil, shading his eyes. "Can youmake anything out, Tony?"
"There's a chap there in red breeches, or I'm an idiot, Phil. Yes, Ican see him plainly. He's tied to the wreckage, and as far as I makeout there isn't a move in him. Tell yer what, old man, that would be asafer place than these here gratings, and I advise that we swop."
When the floating mass reached them, Phil and Tony sprang on to it,securing their gratings to it, and casting off the ropes with which theyhad fastened themselves. Lashed to a ring-bolt was a little,red-breeched French linesman, apparently dead.
Phil cut his lashings free, and turning him on to his back, tore hiscoat open. "Not dead yet," he cried eagerly. "Lend a hand here, Tony.We'll pull this fellow round. He is as cold as ice, so we'll take hisshirt off and rub his chest and arms. That ought to restore thecirculation."
Setting to work with a will they tore the clothing from the unconsciousFrenchman, and chafed his body and limbs with such energy that soonthere were obvious signs of returning consciousness, and moreover theirexertions had made both of them thoroughly warm, whereas before they hadbeen numbed with cold.
Suddenly their ally opened his eyes and stared round wildly.
"Mon Dieu!" he groaned, and seemed to relapse into unconsciousness.Once more opening his eyes he stared at Phil, and, recognising him as anEnglish officer, stretched out his hand, while a look of relief andgladness overspread his face.
"Mon cher, mon cher!" he cried joyfully. "Ah, zis is ze grand plaisir.Ah!"
"Cheer up, my good fellow," said Phil kindly, patting him on theshoulder, for, overcome by emotion, the little man had burst into tears."Come, tell us how you came to be wrecked like us. You speak ourlanguage, so we shall be able to understand."
"Oui, monsieur, I speak ze language of ze English. Ah, I speak 'imwell!" laughed the Frenchman, with some pride. "Once I live in Englandthree months and act as a waiter. You wish to know how I came here.Ah, c'est terrible!" And he covered his face with his hands.
"Now then, pull yerself together, little 'un!" exclaimed Tonyencouragingly. "We're all in the same box. Fire away and let's havethe yarn."
"Eh, bien," said the little man, sitting up. "I leave my beloved Francesix months ago, and sail for to fight ze perfide Russian. Then after zebattle for Balaclava,--monsieur, what horsemen terrible are yours--I getze malade; ze--what you call 'im--ah, ze water and ze cold do catch mehere;" and placing his hands on his stomach, he rolled his eyes till thewhites alone showed, and groaned dismally. "Ze officer say, `mon pauvregarcon!'" he continued, "and send me on the ship _Henri Cinq_."
"What! you don't mean to say that that fine boat has gone down?"interrupted Phil.
"Alas, monsieur, it is true!" the Frenchman answered, lifting his hands."Behold, all is peace; ze sun 'e shine so brightly. Then ze tempestcome, ze ship fight bravely, and then rush on the land. `Sauve quipeut', ze captain shout, and I tie myself here. Then I think of mycountry, and all is dark. I wake, and you are here, mon cher. Aha!what does he matter? Mais--ah, monsieur, mes pauvres camarades!" andonce more the little man relapsed into tears.
Meanwhile the wreckage had been rapidly drifting, and as the darknesslifted it became perfectly evident that the harbour into which the galehad swept them was indeed that on the shore of which Sebastopol wasbuilt. Soon sentries noticed the wreckage, and before long boats hadput off to secure it, for wood was of value for fires. To offer anyopposition was hopeless; the three were lifted into one of the boats,and were rowed swiftly into the inner harbour, where they were handedover to a guard.
"Our second visit to this place," said Tony disgustedly. "Blow'd if itain't the hardest luck as ever was. But I sha'n't grumble no more.We've come safe through when other lads have gone to their last. I saywe was saved by a miracle."
"Yes, indeed," agreed Phil. "We have much to be thankful for."
"Then you have been prisonaire before?" asked the Frenchman, astonished.
"We only escaped a matter of three weeks ago," answered Phil.
"You make ze escape, monsieur?" the little man repeated, lifting hiseyebrows in his amazement. "Truly, you Englishmen are brave. Ha, ha!"he went on, clapping his hands, "what need I, Pierre Moutard, fear? Wewill make ze escape with each others, and we will snap ze fingers at ourperfide enemy;" and, putting his arms akimbo and throwing his chinproudly in the air, he frowned at the nearest sentry as though he wouldeat him. The man answered with a hoarse growl, causing the Frenchman tostart and take his place between Phil and Tony rather hurriedly.
"Aha, ze perfide!" they heard him mutter beneath his breath. "He think'e frighten me."
"I wonder where they will take us!" mused Phil. "If only they will begood enough to put us in the same prison as last time, I think we canguarantee that we will get out somehow."
"That we will," answered Tony with emphasis. "But what about this hereFroggy with the red legs?" he asked in a cauti
ous whisper. "He's kindof tied himself on to us--made pals of us, yer see,--so I suppose he'llhave to escape with us too?"
He asked the question as though an escape had been already arranged.
"Heaps of time to think of that," said Phil, with a laugh. "But I mustsay the little man seems rather nervous."
"Pah! nervous! Just fancy getting frightened when one of thesesurly-looking guards growls at him. It's disgusting, that's what itis."
"Well, we won't worry about it now, Tony. Look out. Here come ourorders."
An officer joined the group at this moment, and closely inspected theprisoners.
"What has happened?" he asked, less gruffly than usual.
"We were wrecked by the storm and blown into the harbour," answered Philin his best Russian.
"Ah, you speak our language, sir! Good! You were wrecked, you say, andmust therefore be cold and exhausted. Sergeant, take the prisoners intothe guard-room, and bring this officer to my quarters. See that coffeeand a glass of vodka are given to the other two. In half an hour youwill call for my guest and march them all three to the prison-hall."
The man saluted, and led Tony and Pierre away, while, taking Phil's arm,the Russian led him on one side and asked how he happened to have thelittle Frenchman in his company.
A few minutes later he strode away, but rejoined Phil when the latterhad been taken to the quarters set aside for officers.
"Sit down there, sir," said the Russian, politely motioning Phil to achair.
"Now we will have breakfast, and I am sure you must be in great need offood. You look quite exhausted."
He struck a bell, and a meal of steaming hot fish and coffee was broughtin, to which Phil did ample justice. Then a cigar was handed him, andhe puffed at it with the greatest pleasure.
"It has been a terrible night, a truly awful gale," remarked the officerafter a few moments' silence. "Even here we have suffered. Vesselshave sunk in the harbour, and roofs have been torn from the houses, andmany people killed in consequence. But at sea the unhappy English havemet with a shocking disaster. It is said that along our coast andwithin the harbour of Balaclava no fewer than twenty-two fine transportshave gone ashore, including the French ship _Henri Cinq_. Few liveshave been saved, I fear, and how you and your comrades managed to escapeis past belief. It is the fiercest storm we have experienced foryears."
Phil was struck dumb with consternation. "Twenty-two ships ashore!" hemurmured in a broken voice. "How awful! All those lives lost, not tomention the stores."
It was only too true. Twenty-two vessels had been wrecked, and of thesethe majority were filled with valuable stores of warm clothing and food,the former being urgently needed at that moment, for the cold weatherhad set in in earnest, and snow and sleet were falling.
"I grieve for you, sir," said the officer kindly. "It is ill fortuneindeed. But, if you feel so inclined, tell me how you came to be washedinto our harbour? It must have been a terrible experience."
Phil described the foundering of the _Columbine_ and their miraculousescape.
"To be taken prisoner is always painful, Englishman," the officer saidconsolingly, "but to be dashed upon the cliffs is to meet with areception compared to which your comfort here will be perfect luxury.It is unfortunate for you, but war is always filled with misfortunes. Iwill see that you and the two men with you are given blankets, and Iwill speak to the prison official for you. For myself, I leave for thefield-army to-night. Ah, I hear the sergeant! Farewell, sir, and thebest of fortune!"
Phil thanked him suitably, and half an hour later found himself in hisold prison. As before, there were a number of other soldiers present,who greeted them enthusiastically, and eagerly asked for news.
"Some of us have been here since a day or two after the Alma," saidtheir spokesman, "and we are dying for news. These Russian beggarswon't even give us a hint. But we keep our spirits up, and when there'san extra heavy bombardment, we shout and sing till the guards get angryand come in and threaten to shoot. But we only laugh at them. It isthe same if the food is bad; we kick up as much noise as possible, andin the end get what we want, for these fellows seem almost afraid ofus."
"Is there no chance of escape then?" asked Phil.
"Not a morsel, sir. We've had a try all round, but always failed.There was an officer here named McNeil. He was wounded, and in tryingto escape got stuck again with a bayonet. Then an ugly little brutethey call an inspector of the prison came in and struck him with hiswhip. He seemed to know him, too, and accused him of inciting us toescape. That afternoon the lieutenant was dragged away, and we havenever seen him since."
"Hum! that looks bad for us, Tony," muttered Phil. "If it isStackanoff, and he recognises us, it will be a bad business. He is sureto pay off old scores if possible."
"Trust the brute," growled Tony. "But if he tries to come any of hislarks on us he'll be getting a tap over the head like that fellow whofound us hidden in the carriage."
At this moment the door of the prison was thrown open, and some blanketswere given to the new prisoners.
"Prepare for a visit from the inspector," said the jailer curtly, "andsee that everything is clean and straight, so that you do not disgraceme. It will mean evil for you if his excellency is not pleased."
A yell of derision met this speech, for the English prisoners hadalready met with such poor entertainment that they could scarcelyreceive worse, and, moreover, finding that a noisy, mutinous line ofconduct overawed their guards, they had long ago got quite out of hand.
"Don't you go for to worry yerself, Whiskers," cried one sturdylinesman. "This place ain't no palace, so the cove who expects to findit such will be a fool. But it's clean, and always will be, 'cos uschaps ain't the sort to live in a pig-sty. Now hop away, Whiskers, anddon't fret. We'll put it right with the inspector."
The Russian looked round at the grinning faces, while Phil, who hadtranslated his message, put the last speaker's into Russian, taking theliberty, however, of making it more polite.
"Very well, do not fail me," growled the jailer, showing his teeth. "Itwill be the worse for you if you do."
"He will discover us as sure as we are alive!" remarked Phil as soon asthe man had gone. "I mean Stackanoff, of course, for I suppose he isinspector. We must try to disguise ourselves."
Accordingly he and Tony ruffled their hair and disarranged theirclothing. Then they took a place amongst the prisoners, taking care tokeep well in the background.
Suddenly the door was thrown open with a crash, and Stackanoff stalkedin majestically, his little pig-like eyes glaring at the prisoners.
"Line them up," he said, with an angry snap. "I wish to see if all arehere."
The prisoners fell into line, and Stackanoff slowly inspected them.
"Who is this?" he asked, as he came opposite Pierre. "This is aFrenchman."
"He came with two other prisoners this morning, Excellency," answeredthe jailer. "They were wrecked and washed into the harbour."
"Fool! What do I care about their method of reaching here?" snarledStackanoff, turning on the trembling man. "They are prisoners. That isgood enough. Bring them before me."
"It's all up, Tony," whispered Phil. "We are to be brought before him."
"Let him take care, that's all!" muttered Tony, looking daggers at theRussian. "I'll down the fellow yet."
Stackanoff stared at them spitefully when they were marched in front ofhim, but for the moment did not recognise them.
"Ha! what is this?" he suddenly exclaimed, gazing at Phil. "Your face Iknow. Who are you? Ah!--villain!" And suddenly realising that Philwas the Englishman who had thrown him from his saddle and brought himinto disgrace, he drew his sword, and, mad with rage, threw himself uponhim with tigerish fury.
Phil was helpless. Another moment and he would have been cut down, whenTony grappled with the angry Russian, and, picking him up like a child,turned him upside-down, and, using all his strength, held him there,cursi
ng and screaming with rage, and with his head resting on the floor.
"Get hold of his sword, Phil," he shouted. "Now I'll let him up if hepromises to behave."
Phil snatched up the weapon, while Tony, now aided by a second prisoner,clung to the legs of the frantic Stackanoff, while the remainder lookedon and laughed at the ridiculous scene till they were doubled up withmerriment.
"You can let him go now," said Phil quietly. "If he rushes at me againI shall set to work with my fists and give the brute a thrashing."
Tony and his helper promptly released the inspector, and he doubled upin a heap on the floor. A second later he was on his feet, glaringsavagely at Phil, his lips curling away from his teeth, and his hair andbeard bristling with fury. But the steady stare with which Phil greetedhim, and his air of preparation, caused the Russian to pause and thinkbefore attacking him again.
"Viper! Wretched Englishman!" he hissed. "You shall pay bitterly forthis insult. Ah, you are dressed now as an officer! You were a privatebefore. Your friend too has different uniform. You are spies--spies!"he shrieked, with a hideous laugh. "Yes, the tale of the shipwreck is alie, and you two have been sent here to learn our plans. Take themaway. They shall be severely dealt with."
"Where to?" asked the jailer, who had looked on anxiously at the scene,not knowing how to act.
"Fool! To the cells, of course," Stackanoff cried. "We have an emptyone. Place them there, and take this Frenchman too. He also is a spy;"and he glared at poor Pierre as though he would kill him.
"What is it, monsieur?" the little man asked tremulously. "What arethey about to do to ze prisonaires?"
"He says we are spies," answered Phil.
"Ah, spies! He make ze lie. Pierre is no spy. But they will notbelieve, and we shall all die!" The poor little man threw himself onthe floor and howled dismally.
"Come up, won't yer?" exclaimed Tony with disgust, clutching him by theseat of his red breeches and hoisting him to his feet. "Ain't it enoughto know as you're to come along with us? Ain't that bad enough? Shoutwhen you're hurt, but till yer are hold yer tongue, or it'll be theworse for yer."
Pierre wept softly, his narrow shoulders and baggy breeches shaking withconvulsive sobs. His chin was bowed upon his breast, and altogether theunhappy little Frenchman looked the very picture of despair.
"Pshaw! At least the Englishmen have courage!" scowled Stackanoffdisdainfully. "Call the guard."
Half a dozen armed Russians marched in and surrounded the prisoners.Then, followed by shouts of farewell and encouragement from theircomrades, the three prisoners were taken to the opposite side of thetown, close to the fortifications facing the British guns, which couldbe heard booming in the distance, while an occasional shell passedoverhead.
"You see that," said Stackanoff maliciously, drawing Phil's attention toa group of low buildings which in parts were tumbled into ruins. "Thecells are there, and perhaps a friendly message from your comrades onthe heights may find you out. It would be best for you, for no man hasyet insulted me and lived to boast of it."
Phil did not deign to answer, but, looking closely at the buildings,noticed that they had indeed suffered heavily from the British fire.Walls were lying flat, roofs were broken, and a large brick chimney hadbeen shorn off like a stick struck by a sword.
The escort halted opposite it, and a door was thrown open by a jailer.
"Place these three in number five cell, and come to me when you havedone so," said Stackanoff. "I have special instructions to give you asto their comfort," he added cynically.
He turned on his heel and was gone, while Phil and his comrades followedthe jailer down a steep flight of stone steps and entered a gallery.They stopped opposite a door studded with big nails. It was thrownopen, and half a minute later had closed behind them with a harsh clang.
A Gallant Grenadier: A Tale of the Crimean War Page 18
