The Great White Army Part 8

"They would have cut her to pieces if we had not come up," said he.

"We are doing a work of mercy, mon oncle, in saving her from them. Let us get on to the monastery and tell our own story. Of course we know nothing of any carriage or its owners; we are just officers of the Grand Army, and if we are not treated properly our comrades will see to it. I count it very fortunate that things have turned out so. We shall get an excellent dinner and a good night's rest, and to-morrow we shall be with the regiment again. Could anything be better?"

He seemed well pleased enough, and I did not know what answer to make to him. As for the Eastern woman, common sense said that he would send her about her business in the morning; but not until he had made sure that she could go in safety. These things pertain to war, and it is not possible to disguise them. Leon was just as fifty thousand others who marched at the Emperor's summons, neither better nor worse; and if there be any excuse to be made for him, it is that he had a sentiment towards the s.e.x which was rarely lacking in n.o.bility.

"Let no man consider himself happy until he is dead," said I, imitating the philosopher; and with that I pressed on at his side until we came to the gate of the monastery, and nothing remained but to tell our story to the good monks within. This was easier than might have seemed, for they had no word of our own tongue and we none of theirs.

It was a matter of gesture from the beginning, and in this we excelled them without question. But first let me speak of the building we now entered.

The monastery covered some three acres of ground. There were a few tilled fields about it and a considerable courtyard in the Eastern fashion. The chapel was a rude imitation of the Church of St. Ivan at Moscow, and had a similar cross, though of smaller size, upon its gilded dome.

The whole enclosure had been heavily walled about as a protection against any raiding bands of brigands; and there were even ancient cannon upon its battlement. Although lacking a moat, there was a big pool or lake before its main gate, and this was spanned by a primitive bridge with a portcullis beyond it. Here we found the keeper of the gate, a st.u.r.dy bearded monk, filthy in aspect if servile in manner. He seemed not a little awed by our uniform and equipment, but when he caught sight of the girl on Leon's saddle, a broad grin animated his features and he no longer delayed to open.

So we rode into a small courtyard and there tethered our horses. The chapel lay to the south of this, and there came to us rude sounds of Gregorian chanting, which is the fashion in their Church, and very melodious when executed by the best singers. Those who now recited the sacred office were not of such a cla.s.s, and their barbarous voices suggested that we were in Araby rather than in civilised Europe. This, however, did not concern us. Our desire was for food and shelter, and following a monk into a vast refectory we signified our wants to him and commanded him to satisfy them. In his turn he did not appear unwilling to oblige us, and motioning us to sit at the table, he went from the refectory and left us alone.

Now I should tell you that the girl Zayde had entered this monastery with some reluctance, and in spite of Leon's endearments she seemed very ill at ease while we remained there. Leon, on the other hand, had found his best spirit, and was in the mood for any adventure which might come to him. Perhaps the church and the habit suggested the absurdity on which he now set his heart, for, turning to me suddenly, he said:

"How now, my uncle, is not this the very place for a wedding? What would you say if I told you that I was going to marry Zayde? Is she not beautiful enough? Look at her and tell me honestly what you think."

I answered that he was making a fool of himself and bade him be silent.

The girl half understood his meaning, I think, for the colour came and went from her pretty face, and she watched him with eyes that plainly acquiesced in any such determination. None the less his words offended me, and I did not wish to hear them repeated. Though these monks were not of my own religion, I respected them, and would not have profaned their holy building. So much Leon must have learned from my looks, for he slapped me gaily upon the shoulder and said that I was not born to be a jester.

"What is marriage, my uncle?" he asked. "A few words gabbled by the priest, and neither the one nor the other caring a pin's point about them. Why should I not marry Zayde? She is young, and, I will wager, well born. I am a bachelor and free to do what I please. What is there to prevent my making her my wife if I choose?"

I rejoined that he had said the same thing of Valerie St. Antoine, and at the mention of her name he flushed and became a little serious.

"Valerie St. Antoine is dead," said he; "why do you remind me of her?"

"Because in my hearing you swore to her to marry no other woman."

"Oh, my dear uncle, how easily one imposes upon you!" And at the same thought he burst out laughing, and catching the girl in his arms, he kissed her as though she were already much more to him than an acquaintance of the roadside.

It was at this point that the monk returned to us, followed by many of his brethren. They were all rugged men, bearded and of evil countenance, and I perceived in a moment that they recognised us for what we were--the enemies and the invaders of their country. Not a sign of hospitality did we detect upon any one countenance in that formidable group. They swarmed about us as though willing enough to do us a mischief if they dared, and so threatening became their manner that we both drew our swords, and Leon a pistol as well.

This put a new complexion on the affair. The most part of them now stood back a little, while their prior, a venerable man with a great gold cross on his breast, held out his hands as though in supplication and addressed us rapidly in the Russian tongue. When he discovered that we could only answer him in monosyllables he made a gesture of despair, and turning to the keeper of the refectory, he gave him an order whose nature was soon apparent. The fellow left the room, but returned anon with three flagons of their native wine and some vast loaves of black bread, which seems to be the only sort procurable in this G.o.d-forsaken country. These viands were set upon the table and we were bidden to eat and drink, while the monks stood about and watched us very curiously.

I have told you that all these faces were strangely alike, as is ever the case when men are old and bearded and of the same nationality. One face, however, struck me as familiar. It was that of a young monk who tried to hide himself amid his brethren, but when I would have verified my suspicions, he turned his back upon me and left the room without remark. The others continued to force their meagre hospitalities upon us, offering the wine freely, but keeping it, I observed, from the girl at their side. She, indeed, appeared to be _anathema maranatha_ to these holy men. Perhaps it was the first time that a woman had ever sat to bread in their refectory; but however it may have been, it was grotesque to find them afraid so much as to touch the hem of her garment, and as curious about her as though she had been a wild animal in a menagerie.

Their antics made Leon laugh incontinently, and his laughter was shared by the girl, though not as freely as might have been expected from such a lady. To me it seemed that she had become aware suddenly of some peril in the place and was anxious to be gone from it. I observed her pluck Leon by the arm and make an appeal to him of a kind I could but imagine. When he told me in a whisper that she spoke French after all, needless to say I was very much astonished.

"Very well," said I, "she will understand your love-making now."

He agreed that it was so.

"The priests will marry us after dinner," says he, "and we will take her to Smolensk. What an adventure, my uncle! Is not war the father of all adventures, as I have often told you?"

I made some commonplace remark and tried to stay the hand of the monk, who was refilling my gla.s.s with very fiery spirit. Truth to tell, this now mounted to my head, as it had mounted to Leon's already, and presently the scene before me became confused and unreal, while the walls were reeling before my eyes and the roof threatening to fall on my head. I detest a drunkard, and this condition occurred to me as very shameful. On the other hand, I had drunk but little of their wine and could not account for my condition; but when I called to the monks for water they proffered me a drink of another kind, and so potent was this that I lost consciousness almost immediately, and must have slept for many hours before I came to my senses again.

V

It must have been near midnight when this happened, and the moonlight, shining in the glade where I lay, soon showed me that I was alone.

Oddly enough, the monks had carried me to the very place where the carriage had been robbed, and when I got the stiffness out of my limbs and the dizziness out of my head I perceived that this was as we had left it, and the scene unchanged, save that the dead had been carried away. I knew the place to be but a quarter of a mile from the monastery, and wondered why they had carried me so far. But chiefly I began to think of my nephew and the girl, and to speculate upon their fortunes.

It was no light thing to be left there in the forest with the Cossacks all about and my regiment bivouacked G.o.d knows where, and a chance of being eaten by wolves into the bargain. On the other hand, I had a great fear for Leon, and was almost ready to believe that they had killed him in the monastery. Certainly such fellows would have done anything for the treasure, and very possibly Leon's head had been stronger than mine and he had contested its possession with them; in which case I did not doubt they had slain him, and the fact that I was alone seemed to warrant the supposition.

Now this was troubling me, and I had a great fear both of the place and of the hour, when I heard a sound of voices in the glade, and presently made out the figures of hors.e.m.e.n moving amid the trees.

At first I took them to be Cossacks, and was about to make off as best I could, when to my great surprise and pleasure I heard Leon himself calling to me. Never was the sound of a voice more welcome.

"Leon!" I cried, and running up to him I found myself surrounded by a squadron of the Red Hussars, in the midst of whom Leon himself was riding his own horse and leading mine by the bridle.

"Well met, my uncle!" says he, in his boyish humour. "And so they have not put the habit on you after all. We have ridden three leagues in quest of you, and here you are at the very door. Well, that is lucky, for time presses, and there is good work to do. What do you say to a little fire to warm our hands on such a night?"

I told him that it would be an excellent thing, though I had then no idea of his meaning. His affection for me was very real, and while his speech made a jest of it, I could see how pleased he was that he had found me in the wood.

"It was that cursed liquor of theirs," says he. "I have never drunk its like. We must have both dropped off like children in a cradle, and then they carried us out. I woke up G.o.d knows where, and but for these good fellows I might still be in the same place. Now we are going to teach the holy friars a lesson. Do you realise that they have got the woman and her jewels, and we must burn them out to recover them? Come along, my uncle. Here is an adventure that is only just beginning."

He seemed greatly pleased with himself, and rode jauntily enough, as though the event were greatly to his liking. My own wit had grown a little clearer by this time, and I could acquiesce in his determination to have it out with the monks. After all, they were not of our faith, and they had treated us very scurvily. The girl was no business of theirs, and even if the treasure had been looted, they had neither part nor lot in the affair. It was plainly our duty to teach them a lesson and to recover the property which the fortunes of war had bestowed upon us; and with this in our minds we rode up to the gate of the monastery and beat upon it insistently.

"No more of their liquor for me," says Leon, as he snapped a pistol in the lock of the great gate and then pulled their bell furiously. "We will give them a taste of our vintage and see if it goes to their heads. If it doesn't, I fancy that a p.r.i.c.k from the point of a sword may well go somewhere else. Rest a.s.sured, dear uncle, we will have our pockets full of diamonds before the day breaks, and the girl upon my saddle-bow. Let us see what kind of a chant these holy men like best.

Upon my word, they sleep like dogs after a hunting!"

Truly it was surprising that, after all the hullabaloo we had made, no one opened to us. The great monastery showed no light of any kind whatever. Both doors and windows were heavily barred as though against a ruthless invader, and listen as we might we could hear no sound within. The subterfuge merely angered Leon. He began to understand that even a squadron of hussars is powerless against a barrier of iron, and that for all we could do to the holy men within we might as well have been in Moscow. This, as I say, had not occurred to him before, and he now rode round and round the precincts as though there must be some loophole in the vast wall which defied us, some gate which the carbines of the company could force. We found none, and the men's chagrin was undisguised. They had been promised food and loot if they took the place, and yet they were as far from taking it as any child would have been.

"You will never do it," said I to Leon. "The wolves have gone to ground, and nothing but fire will fetch them out. You should have brought a gun, my boy; that would have made short work of them."

He admitted it, and began to blame himself for his stupidity. The artillery, according to his reckoning, was three leagues from the place; but presently one of the hussars remembered that some of Marshal Ney's guns were with the van of the rearguard and could not be farther than a league from the place.

"We can have them here by dawn," said the fellow, and there being nothing else for it we dispatched half a dozen of them at full gallop to bring a field piece to the place. The gunners, we said, would come readily enough when the story of the loot was told to them. Never had I known one of the Grand Army turn from that, whatever the circ.u.mstance.

So the men rode off and left us upon the edge of the lake which bordered the eastern wall of the monastery.

Though the day had been warm enough, the night fell intolerably cold, and we wrapped ourselves in our cloaks, and having tethered the horses, fell to walking round the monastery as though it would yet reveal its secrets. Impossible to believe that a treasure of half a million francs and one of the most beautiful women in Russia were locked up in that gloomy place, and we, Velites and hussars of the Grand Army, impotent to get one or the other. Yet such was a fact and such the cunning of the monks that neither light was shown to us nor a footstep to be heard in all the hours of our vigil.

Dawn had come before the hussars returned with half a battery from Ney's own rearguard. We heard the sound of the horses in the wood, and anon the heavy wheels of the guns crunching over the gravel of the precincts. Then also we heard for the first time a signal from the monastery, the great bell of which began to toll mournfully, as though holding a requiem for the dead. The sound inspired us and brought every man to his feet.

"The birds are caged after all," said I to Leon. "We will now see how they can fly."

VI

The bridge across the lake was not stout enough to carry a gun; but we quickly had three upon the brink of the water, and at the third discharge we brought down the great door of wood and iron and not a little of the masonry with it. Such a ragout of rusty iron and plaster saints did not disturb us at all; and running triumphantly across the bridge, we entered the monastery, swords drawn, to ferret out the monks.

Let me tell you in a word that we found no human being within the place. From room to room we ran, crying to each other in chapel and refectory and deserted cell, and hearing nothing but our own voices in reply. Such a mystery was beyond any I had known. The monks were here, we said, or else the devil himself had rung their bell. Nay, there were traces of their recent occupation--rude beds just disturbed; a faint fire in a primitive kitchen; the very candles lighted before the icons or images in their chapel. Yet not so much as the girdle of a monk in all the place, and as for the treasure, I do not believe the fiend himself could have found a sou.

Well, there we were, some eighty men gathered in the morning light and looking as foolish as school lads surprised in an orchard.

When our first rage had somewhat calmed, reason began to a.s.sert itself, and we said that there must be some pa.s.sage beneath the lake by which the fathers had gone out. This caused a new quest of a highly diverting kind, for now it was every ferret to find a hole, and never did men work more willingly. To and fro they went like hounds in a thicket. Panels they tried and traps in cellars they lifted. Walls were pierced with our swords and doors were beat down, until the place looked as though it had stood the ravages of a siege. Yet the mockery of it all was that we might as well have hunted diamonds in the Place de la Revolution at Paris. Not a trace of any secret pa.s.sage did we find, not a hole large enough to pa.s.s a dog; and when after hours of labour we came to the conclusion that the mystery was beyond us, a similar hunt in the woods yielded no more profit. Scattering wide about the monastery in enlarging circles, we must have ridden twenty leagues a man before we gathered at sunset to remind each other that the Cossacks might trap us and that we must rejoin the army at all costs. The graver peril guiding us, we rode off reluctantly, and soon the fateful monastery and even the woods about it were lost to our view.