Debit and Credit Part 33

At that moment a hollow sound was heard, a sound like the sweep of a howling wind, or the roaring of a rushing flood. The commandant stood motionless and listened. Suddenly a discordant scream of many voices resounded close by, and some shots followed. Anton, made susceptible by a night of wakefulness and long-continued excitement, started with terror, and remarked that his princ.i.p.al's hand, in which was the pa.s.sport, shook violently. The door of the cabinet now burst open, and a few stately-looking men rushed in, with garments torn, arms in their hands, the traces of a street combat visible on their excited countenances, and at their head the young escort of the travelers.

"Mutiny!" cried the youth to his commanding officer; "they are seeking you. Save yourself. I will keep them off."

Quick as thought Anton sprang toward his princ.i.p.al, dragged him away, and both flew through the ante-chamber, and down the staircase to the ground floor. Here they came upon a band of soldiers who were endeavoring to garrison the house against ma.s.ses of the populace. But, swift as were the movements of the travelers, those of their last night's escort were quicker still, as, with a loud shout, he rushed to head his friends in their resistance to the invaders. His black hair flew wildly around his bare head, and his eyes shone out from his beautiful and now pallid face with the unconquerable energy of a brave man.

"Back!" he cried, with a loud, clear voice, to the raging people, and sprang like a panther in among them, dealing sword-strokes round. The ma.s.ses gave way; the comrades of the brave youth ranged themselves behind him. Again Anton seized his princ.i.p.al's arm, and dragged him off with such speed as is only possible to men under the influence of strong excitement. They had just got behind a projection of the house when they heard a shot fired, and saw with horror the young Pole fall backward bleeding, and heard his last cry, "The _canaille_!"

"To the wagons!" said the merchant, dashing down a narrow cross-street.

They still heard in the distance shots and cries of discord; and breaking through bands of curious and terrified inhabitants, who hindered their progress, they arrived breathless, and fearing the worst, at the door of the inn.

Here, too, there was mutiny. The soldiers left in charge of the house had loosed the landlord, and speedily made their retreat as soon as news of the tumult reached them. The court-yard was now a scene of wrangling and confusion. The landlord, supported by a number of idlers collected from the street, was disputing violently with the wagoners. Some of the wagons were harnessed and ready for departure, but from others the canvas covering had been again dragged off. The case was a desperate one. The merchant tore away from Anton, who tried to detain him, and, rushing into the midst of the disputants, called out in Polish as loudly as he could, while holding the pa.s.sport above his head, "Stop, I say; here is the order of the commander-in-chief authorizing the departure of our wagons. Whoever resists it will be punished. We are under the protection of the government."

"What government, you rogue of a German?" screamed the landlord, with ominous face; "the old government is done away with; the traitors have had their reward, and their spies shall be hanged as well;" and, rushing at the merchant, he brandished an old sword at his head.

Our Anton shuddered; but man being in the most critical moments liable to strange a.s.sociations of idea, which play like meteors across the anguish of his spirit, it chanced that the broad back of the landlord suddenly reminded him of the back of a squat schoolfellow of his at Ostrau, a good-natured baker's son, upon whom, in many a scuffle, he had often practiced the boyish trick of tripping an adversary from behind.

Quick as lightning he sprang upon the landlord, and most skillfully threw him. The falling sword swerved from its fatal aim, only striking the arm of the merchant, cutting through the coat and into the flesh. As the fat fellow lay struggling on his back like a beetle, Anton drew out his trusty pistols, and cried, with the inspiration of despair, "Back, you rascals, or I shoot him dead!"

This rapid diversion had more effect than could reasonably have been hoped; the people that the landlord had collected around him, and who, after all, were only working for his interest, fell back, while half a dozen wagoners, with bars of iron and other implements of the kind, crowded round the merchant, and now screamed as loudly as the other party had done a short time before, declaring that no harm should happen to the gentleman and his wagons. The merchant cried, "Drive these strangers out!" and, taking up the sword that the landlord had dropped, at the head of his adherents stormed the latter's abettors, and drove them through the house. The most stiff-necked of them tried to intrench themselves in the bar, but one after the other was cast out, roaring and cursing the while. The door was then locked, and the merchant hastened back to the court-yard, and found Anton still kneeling by the incorrigible landlord to prevent him from rising. The rest of the wagoners having timidly got out of the way, the merchant now summoned them all, and ordered them to put the horses to, saying to Anton, "We must leave this place. Better the street pavement than this den of thieves."

"You bleed!" cried Anton, in great distress, his eye falling on the merchant's arm.

"It must be a mere scratch; I can move the arm," was the prompt reply.

"Open the gate; out with the wagons. Forward, my men! Anton, one of the wagoners will help you to bind the landlord."

"And where shall we go?" inquired Anton, in English. "Are we to take these wagons into the bloodshed of the streets?"

"We have a pa.s.sport, and will leave the town," answered the merchant, doggedly.

"They will not respect our pa.s.sport," cried Anton in return, while he held a pistol at the head of the obstreperous landlord.

"If the worst come to the worst, there are other inns in this part of the town; any of them will be a better refuge."

"But we have not the full complement of drivers, and some of our number are disaffected."

"I will manage the disaffected," answered the merchant, sternly; "we have the full number of horses, we only want the men. Those to whom the horses belong will remain with them. The gate is open--out with the wagons!"

The gate led to an open s.p.a.ce covered with building-stones and _debris_, and surrounded by a few poor houses. The merchant hastened thither to superintend the departure. A stout youth came to Anton's a.s.sistance.

They were anxious moments these. Near the house, he and his helper were struggling with the prostrate man, whose ugly wife and her two maid-servants were howling at the house door. As the first wagon rolled away, their screams became louder: the landlady called out "help" and "murder!" and the maids wailed all the louder the more fervently the young wagoner a.s.sured them that no harm would befall his worship, the landlord, if he would only lie still, and that, moreover, they would all pay their bills besides.

Just then loud knocks were heard at the house door; the women rushed in and unlocked it at once; and so great had been the hopeless excitement of the last few minutes, that it was almost with a sense of relief that Anton saw a strong body of soldiery defile into the court. He rose from the ground, and left the landlord free. But the merchant walked slowly, and with uncertain steps, like a broken-down man, to meet the enemies who, at this decisive moment, frustrated his will.

The leader of the band, one of those whom the young Pole had in the morning summoned to the inn, said to the merchant, "You are prisoners; neither you nor your wagons can leave the town."

"I have a pa.s.sport," eagerly replied Mr. Schroter, feeling for his pocket-book.

"The new government forbids your journey," was the curt rejoinder.

"I must submit," said the merchant, mechanically sitting down on a wagon-pole, and clinging to the body of the vehicle.

Anton held the half-unconscious man in his arms, and said, in utmost indignation, "We have been twice robbed in this inn; we were in danger of being killed; my companion is wounded, as you see; if your government is determined to detain us and our wagons, at least protect our lives and our property. The wagons can not remain here, and if we are separated from them, it will be still more difficult to prevent their being plundered."

The soldiers now held a consultation, and at length their leader called Anton to share in it. After much discussion, it was finally arranged that the wagons should be moved to a neighboring establishment, equal to this in accommodation, but superior in character. Anton obtained leave to move to it with his companion, and there remain under surveillance till something further should be decided. Meanwhile the merchant sat leaning against the canvas covering, and taking, apparently, no interest in what was going on. Anton now rapidly told him the decision arrived at.

"We must bear it," said the princ.i.p.al, rising slowly and with difficulty. "Ask the landlord for our bill."

"We will pay the landlord," said the soldier in command, roughly pushing the functionary aside. "Think of yourself," added he, kindly catching hold of the wounded man's arm to support him.

"Pay for us and for the horses," repeated Mr. Schroter to Anton; "we can not remain in these people's debt."

Anton accordingly took out his pocket-book, called the drivers together, and, in their presence, made over a banknote to the landlord, saying to him, "I now pay you this sum provisionally, until you shall have made out your account. You men are witnesses." The drivers respectfully bowed, and hurried back to their wagons.

The procession now set forth. First a portion of the armed escort, then the heavy wagons, which slowly and helplessly rumbled along over the stones; some of them without drivers, but kept in line by their well-trained horses.

Mr. Schroter stood at the gate, leaning upon Anton, and counted each wagon as it pa.s.sed; and as the last rolled off, he said, "Done at last,"

and consented to be led away.

In the very next cross-street the procession turned into the great court-yard of another inn. When the last of the wagons had at length had its horses unharnessed, and the soldiers had barred the gate from within, the merchant fell down in a swoon, and was carried into the house.

He was placed in a small room, a guard stationed at his door, and another in the court. Anton remained alone with the sufferer. Full of anxiety, he knelt by his bed, unfastened his clothes, and bathed his face with cold water. After a time Mr. Schroter revived, opened his eyes, looked gratefully at Anton, and pointed to the window.

Anton looked out, and said, joyously, "It opens upon the court-yard. I can overlook and count the wagons. I really think that here, although prisoners, we are tolerably safe. But, first of all, allow me to look to your wound: your clothes are much stained with blood."

"My weakness proceeds more from over-excitement than loss of blood,"

replied the merchant, raising himself up.

Anton opened the door, and begged for a surgeon. Their guard was prepared to go for one, and after an anxious hour had pa.s.sed, he introduced a shabby-looking individual, who hurriedly produced a razor and a dirty pocket-handkerchief, wiping the razor on his sleeve, and bringing the handkerchief into alarming proximity with Anton's chin. It was with some difficulty that the reason of his being sent for was conveyed to him.

Anton cut away the sleeve of the coat and shirt, and himself examined the wound. It was a cut in the upper arm; not a deep one, indeed, but the arm was stiff, and Mr. Schroter suffered severely. The barber attempted to bandage it, and went off, promising to return on the morrow. The merchant fell back, exhausted with the pain of the bandaging, and Anton sat by him the remainder of the day, laying wet cloths around the arm, and watching the feverish slumber of the patient.

Soon he sank himself into a sort of half sleep, a dull apathy, which made him indifferent to all that was going on without. Thus evening wore away, and night came on. Anton occasionally dipped his fingers in cold water, and crept from the bed to the window to watch the wagons, or to the door to exchange a whisper with the guard, who showed a friendly interest in the case.

Meanwhile the fire continued its ravages, and the sound of musketry thundered at the gates. Anton looked carelessly at the burning fragments which the wind drove over the unhappy town, and heard, with a faint degree of surprise, that the noise of the firing grew louder and louder, and at last became a deafening crash; all the sounds that struck his ear from the street appearing to him as unimportant as the ringing of a little early church-bell which he had often heard from his own room in the princ.i.p.al's house, and which never disturbed any one out of his morning repose. The whole night through he kept mechanically wetting and applying cold-water poultices to the patient's arm, and rising whenever the latter groaned or turned; but when, toward morning, the merchant fell into a sounder sleep, Anton forgot his task, his head fell heavy upon his hands outstretched on the table, he neither saw nor heard; and amid the screams of the wounded, and the thundering of cannon which attended the taking of a stoutly-defended town, amid all the horrors of a b.l.o.o.d.y conflict, he slept like a tired boy over his school-task.

When he awoke, after the lapse of a few hours, it had long been morning.

The merchant smiled kindly at him from his bed, and reached out his hand. Anton pressed it with all his heart, and hurried to the window.

"They are all right," said he. He then opened the door; the guard of the previous night had vanished; and on the street he heard the beat of drums, and the regular tramp of regiments marching in.

CHAPTER XXI.

"We gave you up for lost," cried the newly-arrived captain to Mr.

Schroter. "They manage inns wretchedly here, and all my inquiries after you proved fruitless. It was a fortunate thing that your letter found me out in this confusion."

"We have accomplished our purpose," said the merchant, "but not, as you see, without drawbacks;" and he pointed, smiling, to his wounded arm.

"First and foremost, let me hear your adventures," said the captain, sitting down by the bedside. "You have more tokens of the fight to show than I."