CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
LANCEY GETS EMBROILED IN TROUBLES, AND SEES SOME PECULIAR SERVICE.
Meanwhile Jacob Lancey, impressed with the belief that the Turkishdetachment had taken to the mountains, travelled as rapidly as possiblein that direction.
Next morning at daybreak he found himself so thoroughly exhausted as tobe unable to proceed. With difficulty he climbed a neighbouringeminence, which, being clear of bushes, gave him a view of the countryaround. There was a small village, or hamlet, within a stone's throw ofhim. The sight revived his drooping spirits. He descended to it atonce, but found no one stirring--not even a dog. Perceiving a smallouthouse with its door ajar, he went to it and peeped in. There were afew bundles of straw in a corner. The temptation was irresistible. Heentered, flung himself on the straw, and fell sound asleep almostimmediately.
The sun was shining high in the heavens when he was awakened by a rudeshake. He started up and found himself in the rough grasp of aBulgarian peasant.
Lancey, although mentally and morally a man of peace, was physicallypugnacious. He grappled at once with the Bulgarian, and being, as wehave said, a powerful fellow, soon had him on his back with a handcompressing his windpipe, and a knee thrust into his stomach. It wouldcertainly have fared ill with the Bulgarian that day if a villager hadnot been attracted to the hut by the noise of the scuffle. Seeing howmatters stood, he uttered a shout which brought on the scene three morevillagers, who at once overwhelmed Lancey, bound him, and led him beforethe chief man of the place.
This chief man was a Turk with a very black beard. Lancey of courseexpected to receive severe punishment without trial. But, on hearingthat he had merely attacked a Bulgarian, the Turk seemed rather inclinedto favour the prisoner than otherwise. At all events, afterascertaining that he could not communicate with him by any knownlanguage, he sent him to his kitchen to obtain a meal, and afterwardsallowed him to depart, to the evident indignation of the Bulgarian andhis friends, who did not, however, dare to show their feelings.
For some time Lancey wandered about endeavouring to make friends withthe people, but without success. As the day advanced, the men, and mostof the women, went to work in the fields. Feeling that he had notobtained nearly enough of sleep, our wanderer took an opportunity ofslipping into another outhouse, where he climbed into an empty loft.There was a small hole in the loft near the floor. As he lay down andpillowed his head on a beam, he found that he could see the greater partof the village through the hole, but this fact had barely reached hisbrain, when he had again fallen into the heavy slumber of an exhaustedman.
His next awakening was caused by shouts and cries. He raised himself onone elbow and looked out of his hole. A large body of Russian soldiershad entered the village, and were welcomed with wild joy by theBulgarians, while the Turkish inhabitants--those of them who had notbeen able or willing to leave--remained quiet, but polite. The columnhalted. The men swarmed about the place and "requisitioned," as thephrase goes, whatever they wanted--that is, they took what they chosefrom the people, whether they were willing or not. To do them justice,they paid for it, though in most cases the payment was too little.
There was a good deal of noisy demonstration, and some rough treatmentof the inhabitants on the part of those who had come to deliver them,but beyond being "cleaned out," and an insufficient equivalent left inmoney, they were not greatly the worse of this visit from the regulars.
The loft where Lancey had ensconced himself did not attract attention.He felt, therefore, comparatively safe, and, while he watched the doingsof the soldiery, opened his wallet and made a hearty meal on the debrisof his rations.
Before he had finished it the trumpets sounded, the troops fell in, andthe column left the place.
Then occurred a scene which astonished him not a little. No sooner werethe troops out of sight than the Bulgarian population, rising _enmasse_, fell upon their Turkish brethren and maltreated them terribly.They did not, indeed, murder them, but they pillaged and burned some oftheir houses, and behaved altogether in a wild and savage manner.Lancey could not understand it. Perhaps if he had known that theseBulgarians had, for many years, suffered horrible oppression andcontemptuous treatment from the Turks under whose misrule they lay, hemight have felt less surprise, though he might not have justified theact of revenge. If it be true that the worm turns on the foot thatcrushes it, surely it is no matter of wonder that human beings, who havelong been debased, defrauded, and demoralised, should turn and bitesomewhat savagely when opportunity offers!
It had occurred to Lancey, when the Russians had arrived, that it wouldbe well for him to descend and join these troops, so as to get out ofhis present predicament; but, remembering that he had actually acceptedservice with the Turks, and that, being clothed in a semi-Turkishcostume, he might be taken for a spy, he resolved to remain where hewas. The riot in the village after the Russian column had leftconfirmed him in his intention to remain quiet.
"Your wisest plan, Jacob," he soliloquised, "is to 'old on and bide yourtime. Don't 'urry yourself on any account."
Scarcely had he made this resolve when, looking through his hole ofobservation, he observed a body of spearmen galloping along the roadthat led to the village. The inhabitants also observed them with someanxiety, for by that time they had come to know the difference betweenregular and irregular troops.
The horsemen proved to be Cossacks. The Bulgarians, of course, regardedthem as friends. They formed a portion of the army of deliverers fromTurkish misrule. As such they were received with cheers. The cheerswere returned heartily--in some cases mingled with laughter--by the gaycavaliers, who had also come to make "requisitions." Their mode ofproceeding, however, was quite different from that of their "regular"brethren. Leaping from their saddles, they set about the businesswithout delay. Some went to the fields and cut grain for fodder.Others entered the houses and carried off victuals and wine, while manychased and caught pigs and poultry.
They were evidently in a hurry. So much so, that they had no time toput off in making payment! It was obviously to be regarded as anoutstanding debt against them by the villagers. As the rear-guardpassed out of the place, the corporal in command observed a fat youngpig in the middle of a by-road. He turned aside sharply, charged,picked the pig neatly up on the point of his lance, and galloped afterhis friends, accompanied by a tune that would have done credit to aScotch bagpipe.
All this did Lancey see from his secret point of observation, and deeplydid his philosophic mind moralise on what he saw.
The village in which he had sought shelter was in the very heart of thedistrict swept by the wave of war. The panorama of incidents commencedto move again at an early hour.
When morning light had just begun to conquer night, Lancey was once moreawakened from a refreshing sleep by a noise in the room below. Helooked down and saw an old, old woman, with bent form, tottering step,and wrinkled brow. She was searching for something which, evidently,she could not find. Scraping various things, however, and tasting theends of her thin fingers, suggested that she was in search of food.Lancey was a sympathetic soul. The old woman's visage reminded him ofhis own mother--dead and gone for many a day, but fresh and beautiful asever in the memory of her son.
He descended at once. The old woman had flung herself down in despairin a corner of the hovel. Lancey quickly emptied the remnants of foodin his wallet into her lap.
It would have saddened you, reader, to have seen the way in which thatpoor old thing hungrily munched a mouthful of the broken victualswithout asking questions, though she glanced her gratitude out of a pairof large black eyes, while she tied up the remainder in a kerchief withtrembling haste.
"No doubt," soliloquised Lancey, as he sat on a stool and watched her,"you were a pretty gal once, an' somebody loved you."
It did not occur to Lancey, for his philosophy was not deep, that shemight have been loved more than "once," even although she had _not_ beena "pretty gal;" neither did
it occur to him--for he did not know--thatshe was loved still by an old, old man in a neighbouring hut, whosesupper had been carried off by the Cossacks, and whose welfare hadinduced her to go out in search of food.
While the two were thus engaged their attention was attracted by a noiseoutside. Hastening to the door Lancey peeped out and beheld a band ofBashi-Bazouks galloping up the road. The Turks of the village began tohold up their heads again, for they regarded these as friends, but scantwas the courtesy they received from them. To dismount and pillage, andto slay where the smallest opposition was offered, seemed the order ofthe day with these miscreants. For some time none of them came near tothe hut where Lancey and the old woman were concealed, as it stood in anout-of-the-way corner and escaped notice.
While the robbers were busy, a wild cheer, accompanied by shots andcries, was heard some distance along the road. The Bashi-Bazouks heardit and fled. A few minutes later Lancey saw Turkish soldiers runninginto the village in scattered groups, but stopping to fire as they ran,like men who fight while they retreat. Immediately after there was arush of men, and a column of Turkish infantry occupied the village inforce. They were evidently hard pressed, for the men ran and acted withthat quick nervous energy which denotes imminent danger.
They swarmed into the houses, dashed open the windows, knocked outloop-holes in the walls, and kept up a furious fusillade, whilewhistling balls came back in reply, and laid many of them low.
One party of Turks at last made a rush to the hut where Lancey sat withthe old woman. There was no weapon of any sort in the hut, and asLancey's arms had been taken from him when he was captured, he deemed itthe wisest policy to sit still.
Leaping in with a rush, the Turks shut and barred the door. They sawLancey, but had evidently no time to waste on him. The window-frame wasdashed out with rifle-butts, and quick firing was commenced by some,while others made loop-holes in the mud walls with their bayonets.Bullets came pinging through the window and brought down masses ofplaster from the walls. Suddenly a terrible yell rang in the littleroom, and the commander of the party, raising both hands above him,dropped his sword and fell with a terrible crash. He put a hand to hisside and writhed on the floor in agony, while blood flowed copiouslyfrom his wound. The poor fellow's pain lasted but a moment or two. Hishead fell back suddenly, and the face became ashy pale, while hisglaring eyeballs were transfixed in death.
No notice was taken of this except by a man who sat down on the floorbeside his dead commander, to bandage his own wounded arm. Before hehad finished his task, a shout from his comrades told that dangerapproached. Immediately the whole party rushed out of the hut by a backdoor. At the same instant the front door was burst open, and a soldierleaped in.
It was evident to Lancey that, in the midst of smoke and turmoil, amistake had been made, for the man who appeared was not a Russian but aTurk. He was followed by several companions.
Casting a savage piercing look on Lancey, and apparently not feelingsure, from his appearance, whether he was friend or foe, the manpresented his rifle and fired. The ball grazed Lancey's chest, andentering the forehead of the old woman scattered her brains on the wall.
For one moment Lancey stood horror-struck, then uttered a roar of rage,rose like a giant in his wrath, and seized a rifle which had beendropped by one of the fugitive soldiers. In an instant the bayonet wasdeep in the chest of his adversary. Wrenching it out, he swung the rileround and brought the butt down on the skull of the man behind, which itcrushed in like an egg-shell. Staggered by the fury of the onslaught,those in rear shrank back. Lancey charged them, and drove them outpell-mell. Finding the bayonet in his way, he wrenched it off, and,clubbing the rifle, laid about him with it as if it had been awalking-cane.
There can be no question that insanity bestows temporary and almostsupernatural power. Lancey was for the time insane. Every sweep of therifle stretched a man on the ground. There was a wavering band of Turksaround him. The cheers of victorious Russians were ringing in theirears. Bullets were whizzing, and men were falling. Shelter wasurgently needful. Little wonder, then, that one tall sturdy madmanshould drive a whole company before him. The Russians saw him as theycame on, and cheered encouragingly. He replied with savage laughter andin another moment the Turks were flying before him in all directions.
Then Lancey stopped, let the butt of his rifle drop, leaned against thecorner of a burning house, and drew his left hand across his brow. Somepassing Russians clapped him on the back and cheered as they ran on tocontinue the bloody work of ameliorating the condition of the BulgarianChristians.
Nearly the whole village was in flames by that time. From the windowsof every house that could yet be held, a continuous fire was kept up.The Russians replied to it from the streets, rushing, in little bands,from point to point, where shelter could be found, so as to escape fromthe withering shower of lead. Daring men, with apparently charmedlives, ran straight up in the face of the enemy, sending death inadvance of them as they ran. Others, piling brushwood on a cart, pushedthe mass before them, for the double purpose of sheltering themselvesand of conveying combustibles to the door of the chief house of thetown, to which most of the inhabitants, with a company of Turks, hadretired.
But the brushwood proved a poor defence, for many of those who stoopedbehind it, as they ran, suddenly collapsed and dropped, as men are wontto do when hit in the brain. Still, a few were left to push the cartforward. Smoke disconcerted the aim of the defenders to some extent,and terror helped to make the firing wild and non-effective.
Against the town-house of the village some of the Russians had alreadydrawn themselves up so flat and close that the defenders at the windowscould not cover them with their rifles. These ran out ever and anon tofire a shot, and returned to reload. Meanwhile the brushwood wasapplied to the door and set on fire, amid yells of fiendish joy.
Lancey had followed the crowd almost mechanically. He had no enemy--noobject. The Turk, as it happened, was, for the time being, his friend.
The Muscovite was not, and never had been, his foe. After the firstdeadly burst of his fury on seeing the innocent old woman massacred hadpassed, his rage lost all point. But he could not calm his quiveringnerves or check the fierce flow of his boiling blood. Onward he wentwith the shouting, cheering, yelling, and cursing crowd of soldiery, hisclothes cut in many places with bullets, though flesh and bone werespared.
Close to the town-house stood the dwelling of the Turk who had releasedhim, and shown him hospitality when he was seized by the inhabitants.The door of the house was being burst open by clubbed rifles. Thememory of a "helping hand," however slight, was sufficient to givedirection to the rage of the madman, for such he still undoubtedly wasat the moment--like many another man who had become sane enough thefollowing day when the muster-roll was called.
Up to that moment he had been drifting before the gale. He now seizedthe helm of his rage, and, upsetting two or three of the men who stoodin his way, soon drew near to the front. As he came forward the doorgave way. A tremendous discharge of fire-arms laid low every man inadvance; but of what avail is it to slay hundreds when thousands presson in rear?
Lancey sprang over the dead and was met by the points of half a dozenbayonets,--the foremost man being his deliverer with the black beard.
Grounding his rifle with a crash, and holding up his left hand, heshouted--"A friend!"
At the same moment he was thrown down and leaped over by the soldiersbehind, who were stabbed by the Turks and fell on him. But Lanceystaggered again to his feet, and using his superior strength to pushaside and crush through those in front, he gained an empty passagebefore the others did, and rushed along towards a door at the end of it.
Opening the door and entering he was arrested by the sight of abeautiful Turkish girl, who stood gazing at him in horror. Before hehad time to speak or act, a door at the other end of the room opened,and the Turk with the black beard entered sword in hand. The girlrushed into his arms, wi
th a cry of joy. But this was changed intoalarm as the Turk flung her off and ran at Lancey.
There was no time for explanation. The Russians were already heardcoming along the passage by which he had reached the apartment. Lanceyfelt intuitively that a brave man would not stab him in the back.Instead of defending himself he dropped his rifle, turned, and hastilyshut and bolted the door, then, turning towards the Turk, held aloft hisunarmed hands. The Turk was quick to understand. He nodded, andassisted his ally to barricade the door with furniture, so that no onecould force a passage for a considerable time. Then they ran to theother door, which had not yet been menaced. They were almost too late,for shouts and tramping feet were heard approaching.
Lancey caught up his rifle, stepped out of the room, shut the door, and,locking it on the Turk and his daughter, commenced to pace calmly up anddown in front of it like a sentinel. Another moment and the Russiansrushed up, but halted and looked surprised on beholding a sentinelthere, who did not even condescend to stop in his slow measured march,or to bring his arms to the charge to stop them.
One of them advanced to the door, but Lancey grasped his waist with onehand, gently, almost remonstratively, and shook his head. As the manpersisted, Lancey gave him a throw which was peculiarly Cornish in itscharacter--he slewed his hip round under the Russian's groin and hurledhim back heels over head amongst his comrades, after which feat heresumed the sedate march of a sentinel.
By this time he had been recognised as the man who had routed a wholeTurkish company, and was greeted with a laugh and a loud cheer, as themen turned away and ran to effect some other work of destruction.
"Now, my fine fellow," said Lancey, opening the door and entering."You'll 'ave to defend yourself, for I'm neither a friend o' the Turknor the Rooshian. They're fools, if not worse, both of 'em, in myopinion; but one good turn desarves another, so now you an' I are quits.Adoo!"
Hurrying out of the house, Lancey picked up a Russian cap and greatcoatas he ran, and put them on, having a vague perception that they mighthelp to prevent his being made prisoner.
He was right. At all events, in the confusion of the moment, he passedthrough the village, and escaped unnoticed into a neighbouring thicket,whence he succeeded in retiring altogether beyond the range of theassailed position.
In the Track of the Troops Page 16
