The Baron's Sons Part 24

It was a task, indeed, to get all the rearing, plunging, and thoroughly frightened animals, one after another, over the shaky bridge. The riders cursed, old Paul invoked all the saints in the calendar, and Richard plied his whip with an unsparing hand, until, at last, the pa.s.sage was accomplished. It had been attended with so much noise, however, that no human ear within miles around could have failed to hear it.

Before long a signal-fire blazed up on the hill from which the fugitives had noted the beacon-lights. Thus far, then, their pursuers had tracked them, and no doubt they would be about their ears in a few minutes. Richard and Paul were bathed in perspiration, and there were still thirty led horses to be driven over the bridge.

"I hear a trumpet behind us," said one of the men; "wouldn't it be best to leave the extra horses and each man look out for himself?"

"No," said Richard; "there must not be a single horse left behind.

Let no one ride on until every horse is over."

His order was obeyed, and not a man stirred from the spot until all the reserve horses were across the bridge. By that time the trumpet notes were very near, and the white mantles of the pursuing hors.e.m.e.n could be discerned in the darkness. Richard gave Paul a whispered order, whereupon the old hussar disappeared with two companions. Then the bridge was heaped with dry brushwood, the rest of the tar poured over it, and the whole set on fire. As the flames shot upward the one band of hors.e.m.e.n could see the other, face to face. Richard swung himself into his saddle, and ordered his men to move forward, carefully, over the narrow dike and down the ravine. He himself remained behind until all had preceded him.

The cuira.s.siers did not reach the mill in a body, having become greatly scattered in the course of their hot pursuit. Otto Palvicz, however, was in the lead, his full-blooded stallion being best able to stand the strain of the twenty hours' continuous chase. With him were but a score of his men, and there was no telling how long the others might be in joining him; yet he spurred his horse on as if he would have crossed the burning bridge. The animal, however, would not be driven into the fire.

"Captain Richard Baradlay!" shouted Palvicz.

"Here I am, Major Otto Palvicz," came back the answer.

"Surrender yourself my prisoner!"

"Come over and get me!"

"I will, all in good time, you may depend upon it."

"But not to-night."

"Yes, to-night. I sha'n't halt till I have caught you."

"But you can't cross the broken dike."

"It won't delay us more than an hour. By that time we shall be across and at your heels again. You can't escape me."

"We'll see about that."

During this dialogue a rushing of water became audible from the direction of the fish-pond, and Otto Palvicz noticed that an added flood was pouring through the break in the dike and widening the rupture.

"I have had the fish-pond sluices raised," said Richard, "and you will hardly fill in this gap in an hour's time."

Otto Palvicz saw that the other was right. "I see that I cannot cross immediately," he admitted; "but if you are a cavalier, stay where you are and let us fight it out over fire and water. Will you join me in a pistol duel?"

"With all my heart."

"We will fire at each other until one of us falls from his horse."

"Agreed; but first let our men get out of range. Why shoot down our brave lads instead of each other?"

"You are right," a.s.sented Otto, and he ordered his men to stand aside.

The two leaders stood facing each other across the burning bridge, whose flames furnished a bright light for a nocturnal duel. Each wore a white cavalry cloak, an excellent target for his opponent's aim.

They exchanged a couple of shots. Palvicz pierced Richard's shako, he himself receiving a shot in the cuira.s.s which left a dent.

"Load again!" cried Otto.

But at that moment the water from the fish-pond, whose sluices had been thrown wide open by old Paul, came rushing over the dike in such a volume as entirely to submerge the burning bridge and leave the duellists in darkness. Indeed, they were forced to seek safety from the rising flood in precipitate flight.

"To-morrow we'll at it again," called out the cuira.s.sier major.

"I'll be with you," answered the captain of hussars.

What had been a fiery Phlegethon before, now became an inky Styx, likely to delay the pursuers for half a day. Meanwhile the fugitives had only to push on as rapidly as possible. The whole region, however, was aroused, and in the first village they reached they could get no provisions for themselves or fodder for their horses.

"You are deserters and bent on mischief," the people said to them, and they were forced to ride on with their hunger unabated.

Coming to a bridge, they were met by a rude company of rustic militia, armed with scythes.

"Shall we do as we did at the St. Bridget Convent?" the hussars asked their captain.

"No, that is out of the question here," was the reply; "we must avoid a fight with the peasantry."

He well knew that a couple of volleys from their pistols would have cleared the bridge; but he chose instead to make a detour that cost them two hours of precious time, being resolved to avoid all bloodshed until he should reach his own country.

And still not a bite to eat. Everything eatable was hidden on their approach. Toward noon, however, they came to a little inn where they obtained a loaf of bread and a little brandy. Richard himself cut up the loaf into as many pieces as there were men, and served it out to his followers as if it had been the Lord's supper. A mouthful of bread and a swallow of brandy,--that was their dinner.

In the afternoon they reached a second mill, and here the miller was in the act of grinding some buckwheat. Eldorado! A feast fit for Lucullus! Stirabout for every man, a bellyful! True, neither dripping nor bacon was to be had; but never mind; it would taste so good even without.

The hussars unsaddled their horses, and, while some of the men turned blacksmiths and looked to the shoeing of their steeds, the rest betook themselves to the kitchen, where, in an immense kettle hanging over the fire, something was being cooked with much stirring and pouring in of water, until the whole was of a uniform and proper consistency. The technical name of this dish is "stirabout."

Meanwhile Richard had stationed outposts to guard against a surprise from the enemy.

When the mush was done, a pole was put through the handle of the kettle, twelve cavalry cloaks were spread out on the gra.s.s, and on them the steaming food, which would not have tempted even a wolf's hunger in its then scalding condition, was served with a great wooden spoon. But just as the banqueters were about to sit down around the white cloaks which did duty as table-cloths and plates in one, the outposts came running in with the cry: "The cuira.s.siers are coming!"

To saddle and mount, first folding up the cloaks, stirabout and all, and throwing them over the pommels, was the work of a moment. There was not even time to take one taste of the savoury mess before the men were up and away as fast as their horses could carry them. Without pausing to choose his path, Richard galloped across country, over stock and stubble, taking care only to hold his horse's head toward the east, and spurring on his headlong flight until the sweat ran from the animal's flanks.

"We shall kill all our horses," remarked old Paul, as he pressed hard after his master and glanced back at the ragged line of cavalry behind him. Some of the horses, indeed, broke down under this terrific pace, whereupon the extra mounts were brought into service. It was well they had not been left behind at the mill-dam.

The pursuers were in no better plight. On the highway it had been easy for them to overtake the fugitives, as the latter were forced to make numerous detours; but when they took to the ploughed fields it was a different matter. Richard had been right in his reckoning; in the soft and spongy soil the heavy cuira.s.siers could proceed only at a walk, while the hussars were able to push forward at a trot.

Richard fell back and remained in the rear to hold all his men together, and when any of them met with an accident he was prompt to lend his aid. Thus he again came within earshot of Otto Palvicz.

Glancing back from time to time, he allowed the cuira.s.sier major to come near enough to make conversation possible.

"Stop a moment; I want to speak to you," called Palvicz.

"I can hear you very well as I am," answered Baradlay.

"If you are a brave man, don't run away from me like that."

"I am brave enough to run away so that you'll never catch me."

"That is cowardice. You are showing me your back."