Trusia: A Princess of Krovitch

by Davis Brinton

  XXIV

  STOLEN SLEEP

  Caution is slow-footed. It was already night when they drew in sight ofthe little blur of lamp-light in the charcoal burner's window. The girlat Carter's side straightened herself briskly in her saddle and gave aninvoluntary sigh of relief.

  They had neither time to hail him nor a chance to dismount, before thebearded face of the occupant appeared in the doorway, which hecautiously closed behind him. He held up a warning finger. ApproachingTrusia's side, he uncovered his head and humbly lifting her skirt's edgekissed its hem. He spoke in a tone too low for Carter's ear, but Trusia,turning, conveyed to her escort the substance of his remarks.

  "He says that he already has guests--uninvited ones--in his home. ACossack picket has been quartered upon him. At present they are asleep.He learned of our possible fate from them, and waited at the window,watching for such chance stragglers as might escape. He offers to guideus to a cave, which Krovitzers deserting from the Russian army havebeen accustomed to make their refuge against pursuit. We can lie safelyhid there to-night and to-morrow he will guide us to the Vistula. Or, ifwe would rather, he will immediately lead us to a path which if wefollow should bring us to the riverside by dawn. Which shall it be,Calvert?" He was stirred to the depths of his nature by her unreservedtrust in him.

  "Can you stand the longer journey?" he asked anxiously.

  "Yes, with you," she replied gently.

  "Let us push on, then," he suggested. "We cannot put too many milesbetween us and pursuit. Tell him, though, to bring some food and atleast one blanket for you."

  Upon learning her decision the faithful fellow disappeared into thecabin, from which he presently emerged carrying two parcels which hehanded to Carter. Cautioning them to follow as silently as might be, heplunged without further comment into the darkest shadows about them,which, upon their nearer approach, disclosed a tiny footpath in whichthey found it impossible for them to ride abreast. The peasant, with thelantern which he had lit when well out of sight of the hut, was ploddingsilently ahead, so Carter dropped back, keeping both eyes and ears openfor any sight or sounds that might warn him of the neighborhood ofstrangers. The path grew each moment wilder and more impassable forequestrians. The low branches of the trees more than once whipped theirfaces. Three times did Trusia's horse stumble over some projecting rootdirectly in their route. After the eternity it takes to cover five mileson an unknown road in chaotic darkness, the charcoal burner turned tohis princess.

  "From now on, Highness," he said with an apologetic gesture, "the roadis too narrow for horses."

  She turned to Carter, awaiting his decision. It was an odd picture theymade. He could not but note it. The peasant held his lantern on a levelwith his shaggy head which alternated in deep shadows and high lights.About them, within the zone of its rays, the huge trunks of trees stoodout on every side, their tops lost in the surrounding darkness. Beforehim, but partially revealed by the illumination, sat the girl upon herhorse, her head turned to him with an expression emphasized by theencircling gloom.

  "Well?" she asked, recalling him from his observations.

  "We'll have to abandon them," he answered, dismounting and reluctantlyhelping her to the ground. When Trusia offered the horses to Hans, herefused, saying that their possession might lead to the pursuit of thefugitives.

  Trusia fondly drew the satiny muzzle of her own steed down to her cheek.

  "I hate to do it, Saladin," she murmured chokingly, "but I have to; youunderstand, dear horse." She kissed the soft nose that was restingaffectionately on her shoulder. "You will have to drive him away,Calvert," she said turning to the man at her side, "I cannot." The steedseemed to comprehend, for with a whinny that was almost a sigh, hecoaxingly nozzled her hand and rubbed his shapely head against her arm.

  "Good-bye, Saladin," she cried wistfully, as in obedience to a sharpsmack on their flanks, the horses trotted off into the thicket and wereswallowed up in the gloom.

  Hour after hour Carter and Trusia, led by Hans, trudged ahead, silentlyadvancing upon the wall of darkness ever facing them. Their reflectionswere absorbing them and each respected the sanctity of the other'sthoughts. After the second five miles had been accomplished, theysuddenly came upon a clear space under the unveiled splendor of thestars. At their feet, reflecting the glory of the heavens, bubbled aforest spring. Hans dropped at Trusia's feet, and catching her hand,mumbled some grief-hampered words.

  "He must go back now," she explained to Carter. "He says our way isplain from here on. We are to follow this path until daylight. By thenwe should reach a similar clearing, where his brother, Carl, has hisovens. There we can get shelter. When we have had sufficient rest, Carlwill guide us to the frontier. That last part of the road Hans does notknow. Once at the river, he says, there is a ferry, used by peasants,which will take us across to Austria."

  "Why must he go?" Carter inquired, his every suspicion aroused for thewoman he loved.

  "Should he be missing in the morning from his hut, the soldiers wouldguess the reason for his absence. His wife and infant would probably payfor his loyalty with their lives."

  "And this Carl, how can he vouch for his loyalty?" Carter persisted.

  "I know Carl," said the girl sweetly. That was enough.

  The peasant stood to one side as the pair passed him. One glance intothe honest eyes was sufficient to convince Carter that the man hadspoken the truth.

  Soon nothing could be seen of the shadowy figure on the forest edgewhich stood watching until darkness swallowed the form of his belovedsuzerain. Side by side again, the two persisted along the starlit way oftheir hopes, until they, too, entered another forest beyond. Here,though aided by the lantern Hans had left with them, they lost thenarrow lane a score of times; disuse had made it almost invisible.

  At last, gray with mourning, the tardy day awoke. With heavy limbs andstraining eyes, they stumbled at last into view of the promised haven ofthatch.

  A premonition of something amiss caused Carter to pause as they hastenedtoward it. The door, unlatched, swung open desolately upon creakinghinges. No smoke beckoned from its chimneys, no sign of personality badethem draw near. Trusia choked back the sob as she clung heavily toCarter's arm.

  "It is empty," she prophesied.

  "The fellow is about some place, doubtless," Carter answered cheerfully,that she might not be panic-stricken by his acquiescence. "You stayhere. I'll scout about a bit,--and find him," he added as anafterthought. Leaving both his pack and revolver with her, he approachedthe house with the same caution he would have displayed in routing out agrizzly bear.

  In the tiny enclosure in front of the cabin, he found the disturbingevidence of the visitation of a number of horses in the marred andfurrowed soil of the garden, torn by a score of hoofs. Cossacks had beenhere. He paused, with straining ears, by the door, listening for someportent from within. No sound gave him a clue as to the situation insidethe single room which made up the peasant home. He entered boldly.

  Trusia's heart pounded in lonely centuries, it seemed, as she prayedfervently for his reappearance. Presently, staggering beneath a burdenof suggestive shape, Carter came out and took his way to the denseunderbrush behind the cabin. He returned to the hut for a spade and pickand went back to the underbrush. His absence seemed interminable. Then,with blistered hands, he stepped out of the thicket at her side.

  "What was it? What kept you so long?" she asked, startled by his suddenappearance and petulant with exhaustion.

  "Don't ask me, sweet," he begged, "but come and rest for an hour or so.I'll be the sentry at your gate."

  "But the Cossacks may come," she hesitated.

  "Lightning never strikes twice in the same place," he assured with agrim meaning for himself in the words. "Come, the coast is clear."

  "But that you carried," she held back as the doubt arose, for she hadseen.

  "Without benefit of clergy, poor fellow," he replied seeing that it wastoo late to deceive her. "I hoped you wouldn't notice."


  Gently he urged her to the hut. Freshening the pallet with twigs andleaves, he spread the double blanket they had brought upon the bed andthen withdrew to mount guard while she might snatch some rest.

  With his back against the wall, seated on a rude bench outside thecabin, he watched the heavy-eyed sun arise and yawn. Once from the cabina sigh floated.

  "Rest well, sweetheart," he called. "Our flight has just commenced."