CHAPTER XV.
THE PURSUIT (_CONTINUED_).
The signal previously agreed was promptly hoisted by the party on shore,and as promptly observed and obeyed by the crew of the galley which hadbeen for some time on the watch for some communication.
"My lord," said the peddler, when they had embarked, "if I may suggest, weshould not make a straight passage to the mainland from here, but steerfor the north-west. Some eight miles beyond the western point of theisland there is a river flowing into the sea, and a fishing village at themouth. I know the place well, and have one or two good friends there. Weshall get a guide there; I have in my mind the very man who will suit uswell in that capacity. Indeed the river(35) itself would be no bad guide.The Great Temple lies but a few miles westward from its upper course. Theroad will be easy too along the valley, which is mostly clear of wood."
"Then," said the Count, "the Temple cannot be far from Sorbiodunum. Whynot make for the Great Harbour, and go by the Great Road to Venta(36) andfrom Venta to Sorbiodunum.(37) The travelling would be much easier."
"I have thought of that," said the other, "but I think my plan the best.The distance is far less, and, what is quite as important, we shall not beexpected to come that way. Depend upon it there will be an ambuscade laidsomewhere along the road; for they will feel sure that we shall try andcome that way."
It was evident anyhow that as far as the sea voyage was concerned the manwas right. The tide was ebbing slowly, and an east wind, already high andstill rising, was blowing. To make way against wind and tide to the GreatHarbour would be in any case a laborious business; and if the windincreased to a gale as it threatened to do, might become impossible. Thegalley had been chosen for swiftness rather than seaworthy qualities inrough weather, and might fail in the attempt to work back. On the otherhand both wind and tide thoroughly favoured a westward voyage.
Indeed she moved gaily on with a strong breeze, that in the phraseology ofto-day would be called a half-gale, blowing due aft, and scarcely felt theheavy sea, seeming to leave the waves behind, as the rowers bent theirbacks to their work. The Saxon had now taken his place on one of thethwarts, and his gigantic strength, put it was evident with a will intothe labour, seemed of itself to drive the galley forwards. In anincredibly short time the river mouth was reached, the galley stranded,and the guide, who, by great good luck, had just returned from a fishingvoyage, engaged.
But now an unforeseen obstacle opposed itself. A few specks of rain hadbeen felt by the party as they went, and then as the day went on, began tochange to snow. And now the wind almost suddenly died away, and at thesame time the fall of snow grew heavier. The face of the guide fell.
"My lord," he said, "I hear that your business is urgent and cannot wait.But I must tell you that the weather looks very bad, and that theprospects of our journey are almost as unfavourable as they can be. Weshall have a very heavy fall of snow, and if the wind gets up again, andit begins to drift, we shall be blocked, and possibly unable to get eitherbackwards or forwards."
"We must go," said the Count, in a determined voice, "though the snow wereover our heads."
After a very short interval allowed for refreshment, the party started. Atfirst the snow was no very serious obstacle; but after a couple of hoursincessant and rapid fall, it began to make movement very difficult. Theprogress of the travellers grew slower and slower, and the Count began tocalculate that at their present rate of speed they could but barely arrivein time. It was an immense relief when the sky almost suddenly cleared,and showed the moon still evidently somewhat short of the full. But therelief was only temporary. The clearer weather was the result of a changeof wind, which had suddenly veered to a point westward of north and whichwas rapidly increasing in force. And now occurred the thing which thepeddler's knowledge of the country and the weather had suggested tohim--the snow began to drift. At first the party was hardly conscious ofthe change; indeed for a time the way was somewhat clearer and easier thanbefore; then as they came to a slight depression, the snow was felt to becertainly deeper. Still three or four miles were traversed without anyparticular difficulty. Then the leader of the party suddenly plunged intoa drift considerably above his knees. This obstacle, however, wassurmounted, or rather avoided by making a _detour_. But still the windrose higher and higher, and as it rose, not only did its force hinder theparty's advance, but the drifts grew now formidably deep. Some of theparty began to lag behind; the Count himself, who was past his prime,began to acknowledge to himself, with an agony of anger and fear in hisheart, that his strength was failing. Still they struggled on, leaving oneor two of the strugglers to make the best of their way back, or, it mightwell be, to perish in the snow, till about half the distance wastraversed. They had now reached a little hamlet,(38) on the outskirts ofwhich there happened to be a small villa. It was shut up, the proprietorchancing to be absent, but it was put at the disposal of the party by theperson who was in charge. Fires were hastily lighted, and the travellers,most of whom had almost reached the end of their powers of endurance, wererefreshed with warmth and food.
The Count held a council of war. The situation indeed seemed nothing lessthan desperate. Two out of the party of twenty-five--their numbers had beenincreased by a contingent taken from the crew of the galley--were missing.They had fallen out on the march, and it was too probable that they hadperished in the snow. Of the remainder but four or five seemed fit for anyfurther exertion. By far the freshest and most vigorous of them was theSaxon. The fatigues of the night had scarcely told on his giganticstrength. The Italians, and even the Britons, natives of the southernparts of the island, and little accustomed to heavy falls of snow, lookedat him with astonishment. As for him, he was full of impatience at thedelay.
The Count was in an agony of doubt and distress. His own strength hadfailed so completely that all his spirit--and there was no braver man inthe armies of Rome--could not have dragged him a hundred yards further. Andhe saw that many of his followers were in little better case. And yet togive up the pursuit! to leave Carna, the sweetest, gentlest of women, dearto him as a daughter of his own, to this hideous death! The thought wastoo dreadful.
"When do they perform their horrible rites?" said the Count to thepeddler.
"When the full moon shines through the great south entrance of theTemple," was the answer.
"And when will that be?"
"To-night, and about an hour before midnight, as far as I can guess."
"And what must be done? What is your advice?"
"There seems to me only one thing possible. Those who can must press on. Icount a great deal on the Saxon. His strength and endurance are such as Inever saw in any man, and they now seem to be increased manyfold. Anythingthat can be done by mortal man, he, you may be sure, will do. Our guidetoo has happily something still left in him; and there are three or fourothers who are equal to going on after they have had a little rest. Ishould say, let them get two or three hours' sleep, and then push on toSorbiodunum. That is not far from here, and they can easily reach itbefore noon to-day, after allowing a fair time for rest. Perhaps they mayget some help there, though the place is not what it was. It is some yearssince I paid it a visit, and then I found it in a very decliningcondition, so much so that it was not worth my while to go there again.There were not more than two or three Roman traders there, and they madebut a very poor living out of their business."
This seemed to be the best course practicable under the circumstances. TheSaxon, with whom the peddler held a long conversation, was for pressing onat once, and would almost have gone alone, but for want of a guide. Whenhe understood the state of the case he yielded to what he perceived to bea necessity, and throwing himself down on the hearth was almostimmediately buried in a profound sleep, an example which was soon followedby the rest of the party, the Count and the peddler excepted.
Not more than two hours could be allowed for rest. The guide and the threesailors who had volunteered to go
on were roused with no littledifficulty; the young Saxon was wide awake in a moment. The party partookhastily of a meal of bread, meat, and hot wine and water, which thepeddler had been busying himself in preparing while they slept, and, afterstowing away some provisions for the day, started on their journey abouttwo hours before noon.
Sorbiodunum was reached without much difficulty. But there a greatdisappointment awaited them. The peddler's anticipations were more thanfulfilled, for the town was almost deserted. Only one Roman remainedthere. He was an old man who had married a British wife, and whocultivated a farm which had descended to her from her father. When theguide handed to him the letter which the Count had addressed to theauthorities of the town, begging for any help which they could give insaving the liberty and life of a person very dear to himself, he shook hishead. When he heard the whole of the guide's story, he became still moredepressed.
"Authorities!" he said, "there are no authorities. I am the only Romanleft in the place, and I do not know where to look for a single man tohelp you. As for the Great Temple on the plain there is not a creaturehere who would dare to go near it. They think it haunted by spirits anddemons. And indeed there _are_ strange stories about it. To tell you theplain truth, I should not much care to go there myself. No; I see nothingto be done. But I will ask my wife. Perhaps her woman's wit will help us."
Bidding the party be seated, he left the room in which he had receivedthem, and entered the kitchen, where his wife was busy with her domesticaffairs.
In about half an hour he returned. His expression was now a shade morecheerful than before.
"Ah!" he said, "I was right about the woman's wit. She _has_ thought ofsomething. You must know that my wife is a very devout Christian--formyself I am a Christian too, but I must own that I don't see so much in itas she does--and that she has brought up our children in that way ofthinking. Now, our eldest son is a priest in a village some seven mileshence, and his people are devoted to him. If there is any one in thisneighbourhood who can give you the help you want it is he. He has only gotto say the word and his people will follow him to the end of the world.Here is a proof of it. Four years ago a strong party of Picts came thisway, ravaging and plundering wherever they went. There were not more thanfifty of them, but the people were as terrified as if they were so manydemons. If you think this place a desert now, what would you have thoughtit then? There was not a single person left in it--at least a single personthat could help himself--for the cowards had the meanness to leave some ofthe old and the sick behind them. But my son was not going to let therobbers have it all their own way--you know he has something of the Romanin him--and he went about talking to his people in such a way, that theyplucked up spirit, and fell on the Picts one night when they wereexpecting nothing less than an attack, and gave such an account of them,that the country has not been troubled since with the like of them. Well,as I say, he is the man to help you. I have my younger son here workingwith me on the farm; he is just such another as his elder brother, andwould have been a priest too if he had not felt it to be his duty to stayand help me. I will bring him in, and he shall hear the whole story andcarry it to his brother. That is the best hope that I can give you, and Ireally think that it is worth something. What I can do for you does not gobeyond hospitality, but to that you are heartily welcome. You have somehours before you. If you start an hour after sunset you will be in ampletime. And, in fact, you had better not start before, because the less thatis seen of your movements the better. I don't know that any of the peopleabout here are infected with the Druid superstition, though I have had oneor two hints to that effect, hints which what you have just told me helpsto explain. But, in any case, the more secret you are the better. Besides,my son's Party cannot reach the Great Temple till long after dark.Meanwhile take some rest and refreshment, for, believe me, you havesomething before you."
This advice was so obviously right, that the guide, who was in command ofthe party, had no hesitation in accepting it.
About six o'clock another start was made. At first, though the weatherlooked threatening, no serious obstacle presented itself. The snow wassomewhat deep on the ground, but there were no serious drifts on theirway, a way which, indeed, for some distance from the town lay under theleeward side of a wood. But they had not gone more than a mile and a halfwhen a disastrous change in their circumstances occurred. The wind rosealmost suddenly to the height of a gale, and brought with it a fall ofsnow, separated by the rapid movement of the air into a very fine powder,and working its way through the clothing of the traveller with apenetrating power which nothing could resist. Still, benumbed as theywere, almost blinded by the icy particles which were whirled with all theforce of the tempest against their faces, they struggled on for more thanhalf the distance which lay between them and their destination. Then thethree sailors cried out simultaneously that they must halt, and the guideunwillingly owned that he must follow their example. Only the Saxon wasleft to go on, and he, with a gesture which it was impossible to mistake,declared his intention of persevering. Just at that moment the cloudsparted in the east, and the full moon showed the landscape with a singularclearness, its most conspicuous feature being the gigantic stones of theGreat Temple, which could be seen about two miles to the northward. Theguide pointed to them, and the Saxon, when they caught his eye, leaptforward with an energy which nothing seemed to have abated, and, with agesture of farewell to his companions, plunged into the darkness.
The Count of the Saxon Shore; or The Villa in Vectis. Page 17
