by John Blaine
"And I did not," said the officer, sharply.
The sergeant said nothing more.
Soon the men returned from their fruitless search. Then a litter was improvised and Boris was placed upon it and taken away. Fred had been very fearful for it had seemed more than likely to him that a sentry would be left to watch the wreck. If that had been done, it would have complicated his position, because he could scarcely have hoped to get out of his shelter without making some noise. But this was a precaution that apparently did not suggest itself to the Germans.
And so, as soon as they were well out of hearing, Fred scrambled out, leaving his dangerous coats and helmets behind, and began trudging boldly along the road. He did not know the character of the wooded section through which the road now ran, and it seemed to him that he would be safer in the road than if he tried to walk under cover.
Fred was very tired. And, now that the excitement was fading, he was beginning to realize that he had not escaped entirely scatheless from the wreck of the car. Every bone and muscle in his body was sore and aching, and he wondered how many black and blue spots he would find when he got a chance to look for them.
By Ivan's reckoning, he had something like two miles to go to reach the Russian outposts. He was now in a sort of No Man's Land that lay between the two armies. And, indeed, before long, he saw fires twinkling ahead-the fires of the Russians. That was as he came to the crossroad of which Boris had spoken. It seemed that his troubles must be nearly over. And just then he heard a clatter of hoofs and saw, riding up the crossroad toward him, a troop of German Uhlans. He began running. But they had seen him and gave chase. He dared not stop. On he ran, hoping that the Russians were nearer than their fires. CHAPTER XVII
AN OLD ENEMY
Suddenly over Fred's head there was a peculiar whistling. He had never heard that sound before, but somehow he knew by instinct what it was. He was under fire! Behind him were the shots, but the firing was wild and at random. He plunged into the bushes now, for to do so was to choose the lesser of two evils. He was fairly safe, so sheltered from the bullets, since if they could not see him, the Uhlans would not be likely to fire at him at all. And while it was certain that they could follow him in and catch him if he stayed in the brush, he would delay them at least, and the Russians were so near that they might hear the firing and come up.
That came about even sooner than he had thought possible. He stopped, panting. The Uhlans were close on his trail by this time, and he heard them coming up. But then came a sudden shouting of orders, and, a moment later, a furious fusillade that was answered from the Russian side. Over the rattle of the firing, too, came a sound he remembered well, though he had heard it only once before-the yelling of charging Cossacks. For the second time the wild Russian horsemen had come to his rescue in the nick of time!
But this time there was more of a fight, since the two little bodies of horsemen were far more evenly matched than had been the case when General Suvaroff had led his daring raid behind the German lines in the effort to capture von Hindenburg. For five minutes the fighting was fast and furious. Fred could hear the clash of steel against steel and the spiteful spitting of revolvers and automatic pistols. Then the wild Russian shout of victory arose, and he heard sounds of galloping fast dying away. Even though he could see nothing, he knew which side had won.
"Thank Heaven!" he said to himself. "I wonder if they couldn't chase them and raid the culvert. There aren't so many troops there! Then we could surely get Boris away from them."
But the first thing to do, of course, was to come out of his cover and make himself known to his rescuers. There was a certain risk in even that simple procedure, and Fred was not so carried away by the excitement of the fight as to forget it. There was more than a chance that if he broke out, the Russians would mistake him for some German who had tried to escape by taking refuge in the brush, and that they would shoot without waiting to make sure. But he had to take the chance, and he minimized the risk as much as he could by tying his white handkerchief to a stick and carrying it before him as he pushed his way into the ditch.
He waved this as he emerged. At first no one saw him. Then a Cossack spied him and sent his horse straight at him. Fred leaped aside as he saw that the man meant to ride him down, and, shouting, waved his white flag. He dodged the first assault, but the Cossack spun his pony around in little more than his own length, and waving his dangerous lance, came at him again. He shouted again, and waved his white flag harder than ever. That would not have saved him, however, but just as the Cossack lunged and Fred threw himself down, sure that he would either be speared or trampled by the horse, an officer dashed up and struck up the lance with his sword.
"Don't you see the white flag?" he roared. "We do not kill men who surrender!"
"They say that the Germans are hanging every Cossack they capture," said the man, sullenly.
"Never mind what they say!" said the officer. "Hello! That man is not a soldier at all!"
"Neither soldier nor German!" cried Fred in Russian, springing up. "Those Uhlans were chasing me! I have just escaped from the German lines. I did not think that I should fare as badly among my friends as among the enemy!"
"Nor shall you, friend!" said the Russian officer with a laugh. "So you are a Russian? Well, you look as if you might be anything!"
"I'm afraid I do," said Fred, a bit ruefully. He could imagine, even though he could not see himself, that the Russian was quite right. He was caked with dirt. In the fall from the automobile, as he had discovered while he was walking away from the wreck, he had sustained a nasty cut over the eye, which, though it was not painful, had bled a good deal. And this had made his appearance even worse than it had been before. His clothes were torn, too.
"Who are you, and where do you come from?" asked the Russian.
In a few words Fred told his story. When he said that he had left Boris Suvaroff a prisoner at the culvert, with a broken leg, the officer started.
"Can't you go after him?" Fred pleaded. "They have very few men there. You could sweep them away."
"Not with this force. And I should not dare to go so far without special orders," said the officer. "We could not charge the culvert, and, approaching it from this side, we should have to ride uphill. But I am sure that when those in command know your story, a force will be sent to rescue Prince Boris. Come with us now. I will get you a horse if you are able to ride. The Uhlans left some behind!"
Fred could ride, and said so. And in a few minutes he was riding toward the fires that twinkled before them, side by side with the Russian officer, who was anxious to know all that Fred could tell him.
"That was splendid!" he cried enthusiastically when he heard how Fred had discovered the real purpose of the Germans by his ruse in pretending to be deaf and dumb. "And it means, too, that we will get some real work to do here in this quarter. I thought at first that the army in the north would get all the fighting. We have been sitting here for nearly a week, doing nothing. This is the first skirmish we have had, for our orders are not to bring on an action, but only to prevent the enemy from coming toward us if they show any sign of attacking."
"If what I have heard is true, there will be an advance from this quarter soon," said Fred. "If the Germans are to be outflanked, it must be by the troops here. And that ought to mean as much fighting as anyone could hope to get."
"That is what we are looking for," said the officer. "But you-you will be glad of a rest for a time, I should think!"
"I want to get my cousin back," said Fred. "It was hard to leave him."
"It was the only thing to do. You saved his life as well as your own by going. And one who saves a Suvaroff does a fine thing for Russia in these days-if this Boris is like the rest of the breed."
"Oh, we have never known!" said Fred, suddenly remembering. "Did General Suvaroff get back safely after he failed to catch General von Hindenburg?"
"He did! He had less than a thousand men, and he rode for sixty miles or
more through a whole German army! He was intercepted but when he found a German brigade lined up in his path, instead of trying to circle around it, and so giving the Germans time to surround him, he cut right through it!" answered the officer, smiling.
"That was splendid!"
"I don't think the war will show anything better!" said the Russian, with enthusiasm. "He charged before the Germans knew that he was fairly upon them, and the whole fight lasted less than ten minutes. Then our fellows were through and riding for our lines. And the best of it was that not more than fifty of our saddles were emptied. The Germans are wonderful fighters, I believe. We shall have a hard time beating them. But they fight too much by rule. A German cavalry commander would have been brave enough to try to do that, but he would not have tried because he would have known that it was an unsound plan."
"I wish Boris knew that his father was safe," said Fred, a little sadly. "He has been worried, although he has said nothing."
"Eh-he might have known it! Yes, he got back safely enough. As to whether he is safe now, that is another matter. He is in the thick of the fighting around Gumbinnen, and he is not one of those generals who stay in the rear. He is like Skobeleff. Have you heard of him?"
"He commanded at Plevna, against the Turks?"
"And in a good many other battles! Skobeleff, though he was in command of the whole army, would insist always on being in the thick of the fighting himself. He wore his white coat, and he rode a white horse. So he was always to be seen by his own men and by the enemy. Perhaps he was wrong, but soldiers will fight better for a general who shares their perils. Skobeleff used to do impossible things, because he believed that nothing was impossible that brave men made up their minds to do."
Fred thought of Russian generals in the war with Japan who might have changed the whole course of that conflict had they had such ideas. But he said nothing of this. Russian soldiers were mindful of that disastrous war, he thought. And Fred had an idea that before this far greater struggle was over, the world would have been forced to forget the failures of Manchuria. Men who fought as he had seen Russians do were not going to be beaten again.
Fred was mounted now on a big, rawboned horse that had lost its Uhlan rider. He was so tired that he was swaying in his saddle, and the Russian noticed this.
"Keep awake a little longer," he said, cheerily. "We haven't very much further to go. In half an hour, I think, you can be in a real bed, with sheets and blankets."
"I don't need anything like that," said Fred, rousing himself and smiling. "I think I could sleep on a board that was studded with nails! And I know that they could fight a battle all around me to-night without waking me up when I once get to sleep."
"I'd like to let you stop here-we are within our lines now-but I know the staff will want to see you and ask a few questions. And you have done so much already for Russia that I believe you will want to do that much more before you rest."
"Oh, a few minutes more or less won't make any difference!" said Fred. He yawned hugely. "As long as I'm awake, I can make myself stay awake. If I once let go, though, I promise you I'll be hard to rouse!"
There were more Russians about here than Fred had supposed. It was plain that since Ivan had had any information as to the conditions here, re-enforcements had been brought up, for it was not through outposts that they were riding, but through a large body of troops. Tents stretched in all directions and fires were numerous, dotting the fields like stars. There were no woods here; it was open country again. To the left Fred caught a glimpse of the silver sheen of a river reflecting the starlight.
"How far are you going to take me?" asked Fred.
"To headquarters. We have less than half a mile to ride now. The general will be glad to see you."
The Russian chuckled, and there seemed to be a hidden meaning in his laugh. At any other time, when he was less weary, Fred would have noticed that. He would have wondered at it, at least; he might even have guessed its meaning. But now he only asked, quite idly: "Who is in command of the troops here?"
"You will soon know," said the Russian, repeating his chuckle.
Fred did, indeed, soon get the answer to his question. They rode up to a small farmhouse, ablaze with light, late as it was. The place was well guarded. The Russian officer slipped off his horse.
"Wait one minute," he said. He went, and returned at once. Then he led the way inside. And Fred, all weariness banished by the sight, stared into the cold, evil eyes of Mikail Suvaroff, wearing his general's uniform. CHAPTER XVIII
THE GREAT WHITE CZAR
There was a moment of absolute, chilling silence; the sort of silence that, in the old phrase, can be felt. For just an instant it was plain that Mikail Suvaroff did not recognize the nephew he hated. But then he knew him, and a flash of cold, malignant hatred lit up his eyes, while his lips curved in a curious, sneering smile.
"So-it is you?" he said. "I thought I had not seen the last of you on the platform at Virballen! Lieutenant, you may leave us."
"Yes, general," said the lieutenant who had rescued Fred. He was plainly puzzled and confused. "I did not tell your kinsman that you were in command here. I thought he would be delightfully surprised by being confronted with you suddenly. But-"
"Exactly! You were quite right, lieutenant. And now you may leave us!"
The lieutenant flushed at the rebuke, saluted stiffly, and left the room.
Fred was alone with his uncle.
"You are brave, at least," said Mikail, presently. "That will, perhaps, be a comfort to you later. Yet you were not well advised to serve the Germans as a spy. They have not been able to save you from me this time, you see. It is not a case this time of the station at Virballen, with the superiority of numbers on their side for the moment."
"It is your Cossacks who saved me from the Germans," said Fred. "I have been a spy-but it has been in the interest of Russia. General Alexander Suvaroff and his son can tell you that."
"Perhaps," said Mikail, his eyes and mouth fixed, so that no one could have guessed what was in his mind. "It is strange that you feel forced to call upon those who cannot say anything for or against you-since they are in the hands of the Germans."
Inspiration came suddenly to Fred, and he said nothing. He gave his uncle stare for stare.
"Well, what have you to say?" said Mikail, at last. "What defence have you, spy?"
Still Fred said nothing, and he saw the veins in Mikail's hands swelling with anger.
"So?" he said, when he understood that Fred would not speak. "Well, there will be a way to make you talk, doubtless. I might have you shot now-or hung. But you are my nephew. You shall have the fairest of trials, for it must not be said that I did not see that you were well treated!" He chuckled ominously. Then he raised his voice. In answer to his call two officers came in.
"You will be held personally responsible for this prisoner," he said. "He is to be sent at once to Grodno for trial as a spy. I will dictate the process accusing him. Let him be dispatched in the morning, under heavy guard."
The officers saluted. Then soldiers were called and Fred was led away. From the first he realized the utter hopelessness of any attempt to escape. He was in the midst of a great army. He could not hope, no matter what happened, to get more than a few yards in any direction. Yet even the thought of his peril did not keep him awake. No sooner was he put in the guard room, where half a dozen soldiers were with him, than he sank into a heavy sleep. He was too tired, in fact, to realize to the full how serious the matter was.
But in the morning, when he was roused to partake of a meal, the full and dreadful peril of his situation came over him. There was something appalling about the way in which his guards looked at him. Most of all, there was a terrible quality in the sympathy of the young lieutenant who paid him a hurried visit.
"I did not know, of course," he said, quickly. "I should have had to take you to him, just as I did, but I should have prepared you for what was coming. I have heard something of the st
ory. You have aroused the general's hatred-and there are terrible stories of his power. Tell me, is there anyone who can speak for you? It may be that I can get some word to them-though it would cost me dear if Prince Mikail discovered that I had done it."
"Boris Suvaroff and his father would help me," said Fred. "But Boris is a prisoner, and so is Prince Alexander, if my uncle tells the truth! And the American ambassador-though I suppose he could do nothing."
"I will do what I can. And remember that Dmitri Sazonoff is your friend, and will believe always that you are a true friend of Russia. Good-bye! You go to Grodno. There, unless there has been a change, are the headquarters of the Grand Duke Nicholas Nicholavitch, who is in supreme command of all our armies. You will be tried there by court-martial. I wish it meant more-but count upon me for all that I can do."
It was still comparatively early when Fred began his journey to Grodno, which was, as he knew, one of the concentration points of the Russian army. The trip was begun in a great motor truck, empty now, which had been used to bring food and ammunition to the front. It was one of a long train of similar vehicles, and in it he rode to the border, where he was transferred to a military train.
He was able on the trip to see what was going on, since no attempt was made to keep him from doing so. And everything he saw served only to impress him more and more with the utter hopelessness of his position. The roads were choked with dense masses of advancing Russians. Troops, horse and foot, hospital trains, ammunition and provision trains, guns-all were moving up; evidently in preparation for the striking of a heavy blow at the German power in East Prussia on a new line of attack.
For the first time Fred saw a country that was really in the grip of a modern army. The swift movements of the German army around the Suvaroff house had not given this impression. There were not so many Germans, relatively speaking at least, and their movements were made with less confusion and greater speed, owing to their possession of railways that had been built with an especial view to their being used in time of war.
