The Playground of Satan Part 34

"Four hundred versts," he repeated. "I did not know. I don't see how we are to reach Warsaw before it is German." He turned to Ian. "Do you, sir, help me lay my little horse in its grave. Then we can decide."

Hastily they put it into a trench, and the Cossack kicked earth over it, telling his story, meanwhile, in odd, broken Polish, of which he was very proud. He had been captured by the Prussians not far from Ruvno, and taken to the Vistula, he was not clear where, to be sent by water into Germany. But their boat was sh.e.l.led by the Russians and wrecked.

Like all Cossacks he was an expert swimmer and he swam up against the tide, got ash.o.r.e near a wood and struck the high road from Thorn to Warsaw. He had been riding since early morning and Sietch was already much tried when they were captured.

But for all his advocating the Grodno route, he seemed loathe to leave his new friends and strike out done when he saw that they were bent upon trying to get to Sohaczev. I think the knowledge, gathered from their talk amongst themselves, that Ian knew every by-way and short-cut to that town--for much of the way lay on his own land--impressed him.

"I am strange to this country," he explained. "I might not find the river, to strike across country into Lithuania, and four hundred versts is a long way."

"You will come up with your friends once you cross the river," said Ian.

"The Russians still held the right bank of the Vistula, this evening."

"Have you no horses?" he asked.

Vanda told him that Ruvno and its contents lay under a wreckage of brick and stone. Ian turned to his mother.

"I am for pushing on to Warsaw," he said. "Neither of us can tramp four hundred versts within three weeks. We must trust to our luck to find the Grand Duke in Sohaczev. Von Senborn said this morning that he was there, waiting for the rest of his army to come up."

"Very well," she said, putting her arm in his. "If only I could see the Grand Duke, he'd send us to Warsaw by hook or by crook. War changes many things, but it doesn't kill the convenience of having powerful friends."

"Will he go with us?" asked Vanda, meaning the Cossack.

"I hope not," whispered her aunt.

"They are wild people at the best," said the Father, speaking English.

"If he joins us he'll see your jewels taken from the earth."

"Besides," said Ian, "if the Prussians catch us alone they may give us a pa.s.s to Warsaw--G.o.d knows, we're harmless beggars, even to them. But to have an escaped prisoner--only--how to tell him?"

"Well--are we going to start?" asked the Cossack. n.o.body answered.

He was no fool, for he guessed the reasons why they greeted his proposal in stony silence. I suppose he thought a woman would be soft-hearted, so addressed himself to the Countess, giving one of his awkward bows.

"Madam," he said, "I know you think me a savage Cossack, given to pilfering and all sorts of wildness. But I am a good Cossack, of the Don Troop, coming of many atamans. My name is Ostap Hovodsky; my mother is an Efremov. We serve the Tsar with our own horses, uniforms and arms; we are warriors and farmers, but neither Huns nor Prussians. You need not fear for any treasure you may have about you for your journey. As to this"--he threw down his pistol--"it has been in the water and I have had no ammunition for a week. And this," he tore off his ragged coat and threw it into the ditch. "I spit upon it. I always meant to change it the moment I could find a dead man to pilfer. This is no place for Cossack uniforms. I'll walk in my shirt, or without it, rather than make you anxious. If you want my company you will not regret it. From your looks I see you are not used to make your way through deserted battlefields. You will find me useful, and I shall be glad to know the nearest way to report myself to Nicolai Nicolaievitch."

"I will take you with pleasure," said Ian, who felt confidence in him after this little speech. "But there are others."

"I, too," agreed Minnie, who naturally did not share the Polish aversion to Cossacks.

"I believe you'll be our friend," said Vanda.

"I have known good Cossacks," said Father Constantine, "and I think you are one of them."

The Countess said no more, so it was settled that Ostap, as he insisted on their calling him, should go with them. He thanked them, and then, of a sudden, took the initiative, and became their leader.

"You have no pick?" he asked.

They looked at each other in consternation. It was true. In his haste to leave the house Ian had forgotten to bring a spade, to dig up the jewels.

"Where do the Prussians lie now?" he asked again. Ian took him up the bank by the windmill site and showed him, so far as he knew, where they had occupied Ruvno soil.

"Very well. I'll go for a pick, or a shovel."

"You'll be captured if you do," said Father Constantine. "They have sentries."

"Never mind. We must have a few things. Do you all wait here and I'll be back very soon. If you hear a very long whistle you'll know I am taken and then you must fend for yourselves. Otherwise, wait."

"I'll come, too--" said Ian.

"Can you walk on your belly?"

"I can try."

"That's no good. You learn it early or not at all. And you cannot take a pannikin or water-bottle from a sleeping man's side without waking him. Even the Prussians can't do that. I'm safer alone."

And he disappeared, after taking up the bridle which had been on Sietch--the only harness he had.

The moon had waned and darkness was upon them. To save time they moved to the spot where Ian and the Father had buried half of the jewels last summer. They put the rest in the lane which ran to the east of the house. During the momentary lulls when safe from prying eyes, Ian had been in the habit of going to see if they were safe and none the worse for lying underground. When the windmill was destroyed they were anxious about them. But on clearing away the debris he found them safe and sound in kind Mother Earth, who never deserts men, if only they know how to tend and love her as she requires. He and his mother thought more and more about them as their forests were ruined and fields ceased to bear; for with them they could not only live, had they to bolt, till the war would be over; but later on they hoped to come back and repair some at least of the damage done to Ruvno.

But in all their talks of the dim future they had never dreamed of such utter ruin as now faced them. For the Russians appeared to do well after driving foes from the very gates of Warsaw, and everybody was full of hope till a couple of weeks back.

They had all learnt by heart how many paces north and west of the windmill was the hole, so did not foresee much trouble in finding it.

It seemed hours before Ostap came back, and they began to fear he had been captured and could not even whistle to warn them. At last, however, a faint whistle came from the road below. Ian went to meet him.

He always knew the Cossacks for pilferers, but never thought the night would come when he and his family would be glad to share a Cossack's booty. Ostap had lived up to the traditions of his people, which includes a genius for finding the thing they want and making the most of an awkward situation. He struggled under the weight of many things, slung on his back by means of Sietch's bridle. He had a pick, which he handed to Ian.

"Do you dig," he said. "And I will divide these things among us."

He had found what remained of the Prussians' feast, so rudely interrupted by sh.e.l.ls from Kosczielna. He had three huge loaves of rye bread, brandy, which the Countess insisted on Father Constantine's having some of, three tins of preserved food (it was too dark to read the labels) and cheese. He had boots for himself, taken, he said, from a dead trooper, and a jersey from the same source. The women shuddered at the thought of wearing clothes stripped from a corpse, but he was quite pleased with them. Then he had a water-bottle, three nose-bags and two horse-cloths. These were a good deal torn, but Vanda and Minnie, in light frocks, were very glad of them.

"Only three loaves," he said regretfully. "But I ate the other on the spot. I heard you say you had had supper and I had touched no food for twenty-four hours. These nose-bags will do to carry the food in, one for the priest and one each for us men."

Quickly he distributed his booty in the three nosebags.

"There," he said when it was done. "We shall not have a feast, but at least something to put in our stomachs. Mine was empty before I went over to them. They are all sleeping like the dead they lie by, except the wounded, who groan and yell." He turned to the Countess. "And where can I fill this water-bottle without getting poisoned, my Lady?"

"We shall pa.s.s a spring soon after we start for Sohaczev."

"My G.o.d, but I've a thirst. Is there nothing nearer?"

"Only the House supply," she answered sadly. "And that must be under the ruins."

Meanwhile, Ian and the two girls were working their hardest, Ian loosening the earth with the pick and helping to shovel it up. This they did with their hands, having nothing else. The Countess helped, too, but they all insisted on the Father resting before his long tramp.

His seventy-odd years could ill withstand the experiences of the past twelve months. His rheumatism had grown worse, and the wound he took in the winter, during the kitchen fight, never properly healed. A surgeon Ian had called in said it would take years before the skin hardened over the bone. They did manage to get a kind of cap, of aluminum, to protect the skull. But whereas a quiet life and comfort would have done him good, all they could give him that year was worry and hardship.

Ostap looked on but did not offer to help dig up the "treasure" as he called it. He did say how sorry he was not to have found a spade as well as a pick; but that was all. He did not want them to suspect of a desire to pilfer their jewels.

The three worked hard for some time, then Vanda got up to stretch her legs, cramped by the posture.