Henty George Alfred
Out with Garibaldi: A story of the liberation of Italy

“But what can there be for us to do?” Sarto asked, in some surprise at the tone in which Frank spoke.

“I don’t know; that is just what I don’t know, Sarto. I acknowledge that I by no means like this expedition. Rubini and Zippo are both certain that this woman is acting in perfect good faith. I did not see her, and therefore I can only take their opinion, but she may have been only acting. You know how passionate these women are; and it seems to me possible that, thinking what she would have done had her husband been shot by Prato, she might have worked herself up into such a state that no one could doubt the reality of her story. Of course, I do not say that it was so – I only say that it was possible. In the next place, even if her story is perfectly true, she may have been seen to leave the camp, or, if she passed out unobserved by any of them, her absence would be noticed, and she might be followed and her interview with Rubini observed; and in that case the band may either have moved away when they got the news, or, what is more likely, be prepared to attack Rubini’s column on its way. I mentioned the possibility to Rubini that the woman’s absence might have been noticed and the band be uneasy in consequence, and on the look-out; and although it in no way shook his determination to take advantage of her offer, he would, I am sure, take every precaution in his power. Still, there is no saying how things will turn out. It may be that, if the brigands anticipate an attack, they may by this time have sent to another party to tell them that the greater part of our detachment will be away, and invite them to come and finish with the men left here, while they themselves tackle those who have gone out against them.”

“It certainly looks possible in the way you put it,” Maffio said, “though I hope it may not turn out so. However, I see that we shall, at any rate, have something to think about while they are away. So that is what that bread and wine you brought in was for? Rubini asked us, and two others, to bring in a couple of loaves each, and the other to bring in a skin of wine; of course, we thought that it was for the use of the expedition.”

“I asked him to do so, Maffio. He rather laughed at the idea, but it seemed to me possible that they might be of use here while he was away; and at any rate I will guarantee that the food shall not be wasted.”

“Six of us, including yourself, could not hold this church long?”

“Not against a great effort. But even if they should take advantage of the absence of part of our force to attack us, they would not know how strong a party had been left behind, and would be cautious for a bit; but I do not suppose that we should be able to resist a determined onslaught. I thought that we might take to the tower: we could hold that for hours.”

“Yes; we could do that,” Sarto said confidently. “Well, I don’t at all suppose that we are going to be disturbed, but it is a satisfaction to feel that we are not altogether out of the affair.”

As usual, a dozen candles had been lighted in different parts of the church as soon as it was dark. The three Genoese, who had joined the company after the capture of Palermo, looked sulky and downcast at being left behind, and Frank called to them.

“I have no doubt that you are disappointed, gentlemen,” he said; “but you should really take it as a compliment. I asked Captain Rubini to leave me, in addition to my two friends here, the three best men he could pick out from those who had not formed part of the original force, and I have no doubt that he has done so. I may tell you that I consider it possible, I do not say probable, that we may be attacked, and we will first see what steps should be taken in that case. I have not been up to the tower: have any of you?”

None of them had mounted there.

“Then let us investigate,” he said.

The campanile stood at the north-west corner of the church; it had an exterior door, and another opening into the church. Taking a couple of candles, they entered by the latter, and mounted a stone staircase leading to the lower story of the tower; beyond this a wooden staircase led to the rough wooden floor under the bells, and another to the flat terrace above.

“The first thing to do,” Frank said, “is to block up the outside door; at any rate, let us have a look at it.” It was roughly made, but very strong. “The door is well enough, but I doubt whether this lock would not give under heavy blows.”

“We might pile chairs behind it,” Sarto suggested.

“I would rather not do that, if we can help it,” Frank replied. “They may burn the door down, and the less combustibles there are the better; however, if we can find nothing else, we must use them.”

Nothing could be found, and Frank then said, “I think that we can manage with one chair.”

The others looked puzzled.

“We will cut up the legs and back into six-inch pieces, sharpen them into wedges, and drive them in all round the door: I think that would withstand any battering until the door itself splintered.”

They all fell to work at once, and in a quarter of an hour a score of wedges were driven in.

“Now we will do the same at the bottom of the church door itself, and put in a few as high as we can reach on each side; that will detain them some time before it yields.”

When this was done, Sarto said, “What next, Percival?”

“The only other thing to be done in the way of defence is to carry all the chairs upstairs to the first story of the tower, to make a barricade there,” Maffio remarked.

“Yes, we might make a barricade of them half way up the stairs, but my main object is to get rid of them here. If they found they could not storm the stairs, they might pile all the chairs in the middle of the church and set them on fire – they are the only things that will burn; and although the flames would scarcely mount to the roof, sparks would fly up, and as there is sure to be a lot of dust and soot on the beams there, which might catch fire, we should be burnt out.”

“Well, at any rate there will be no great trouble in doing that,” Sarto said; “though I should hardly think that they would attempt to burn the church down. The brigands have no respect for life, but they are not without their superstitions, and might be afraid to burn a church, though they would cut half a dozen throats without a scruple.”

“Yes; but a portion of the band are no doubt composed of revolutionists from the mainland – fellows who have no scruples of any sort, and who, as the men of the same kind did in Paris seventy years ago, would desecrate a church in every conceivable manner, for, as a rule, they hate religion as they hate authority.”

The chairs were accordingly carried up and stowed on the wooden floor beneath the bells.

“Now,” Frank said, “I should like to see how this ladder is fastened, and if we can move it.”

This, however, they found would be well-nigh impossible. It was over thirty feet from the stone floor to the next story, while that in which the bells hung was but some twenty feet. The ladder was very solid and heavy, and as only two could get at it from above, it could not be lifted up that way.

“We can manage it,” Frank said, after thinking for a minute. “We can pull the bell ropes up through their holes, and fasten them somewhere above the middle of the ladder; then, with three of us pulling on each, we could certainly raise it without much difficulty. We should not have to pull it very high – six feet would be ample. If they want to smoke us out, they must bring wood from outside, which will not be easy to do under our fire. Now we will leave one on watch above. He shall be relieved every hour. Do you take the first watch, Pedro. If you hear any stir in the village below, come down and tell us at once; but, above all, listen for distant firing. It is five miles to the spot where the bandits are, but on a still night like this it would certainly be heard here.”

He and the other four men then descended to the first floor. Here those who were to take the next turn of duty said, “If you do not want us further, captain, we will sit here and light our pipes, if you have no objection.”

“No objection at all. I don’t think that I should like to smoke myself in the church below, but that is a matter of opinion; but certainly no one could object to its being done in this detached tower.”

Then, with Sarto and Maffio, he went down into the church.

CHAPTER XII.
AN AMBUSCADE

“THE others will have the laugh at us when they come back,” Sarto said.

“That will in no way trouble me,” Frank said. “It has given us a couple of hours’ work, and it has passed the time away. If all has gone well, we shall hear the firing very soon; we may be sure that they won’t be able to go fast through the wood, especially as they will have to be careful not to make any noise. Of course, it is all up hill too, and will be as dark as pitch under the trees; they will have almost to crawl along the last mile. I should not be surprised if it were another hour before they are in position to attack. And now that we are prepared to repel any attack upon us, and to hold out, if necessary, for three days or even more on the provisions we have got, we ought to consider another alternative.”

“What other alternative can there be?” Maffio asked.

“Let us suppose – and it is as well to suppose the worst – that Rubini falls into an ambush. It makes no difference whether the woman leads him into one, or whether she has been trapped and the ambush laid without her knowledge. Suppose that they are ambushed and that none of them get back here?”

An exclamation broke from the others.

“I said that we will suppose the worst,” Frank went on. “This man Prato, who is an old hand at such matters, would not improbably, if he expected that Rubini would come to attack him, have at once sent off to another band, or to men who sometimes act with him, and instead of their meeting thirty-eight men, they may meet sixty. In that case we might calculate that a third of Rubini’s force would fall at the first volley; there they would be in the forest, without a guide, in the dark, surrounded by twice their number of men well acquainted with the place, and accustomed to traversing it at night. Now I ask you frankly, do you think that many of them, or, indeed, any of them, would be likely to get back here? They might not all be killed; some might hide in the woods, and make their way down the mountain to-morrow, but the chance of any of them returning here seems to me to be small indeed, if things turn out as I have been saying.”

“But you don’t think, you can’t think, Percival – ” Sarto said, in a tone of horror.

“I don’t say that I think so, Sarto. I only say that it seems to me to be possible; and, situated as we are, it is always as well to see what, if even the most unlikely thing takes place, could be done. Let us suppose that the detachment has been cut to pieces: what is our look-out here? We can defend the place, or rather we can defend ourselves, for three or four days; but what would be the benefit of that? If the news got down to Bronte, it would be necessary to send two or three companies up here to rescue us. If, as is very probable, no news got down there, we should have to surrender; and we know what that would mean, especially as, assuredly, we should have killed a good many of the brigands in the course of the fighting. Thus, then, nothing would be gained by our resistance. I was appointed to command that portion of troops left here, in case of Rubini going away in pursuit of brigands with the rest. I do not suppose that it was ever contemplated that only five men would be left behind, still that does not alter the case. The idea was, that the village might be attacked during the absence of part of the force, and that those here should maintain themselves until Rubini returned. But in the event of such a disaster as we are supposing, so far from there being any advantage in holding this church, it would be a serious disadvantage; for we should risk our lives without any point whatever in our doing so.”

“That is certainly true; but in that case, why should we have made these preparations for defence?”

“Simply because we hope, and have every reason to hope, that Rubini will return, and we are prepared to hold out until he does so. But, once assured that the detachment will not come back, the whole matter is changed.”

“But how are we to be assured?”

“Ah! that is a very difficult question to answer. As long as there is the slightest possibility of any part, however small, of the detachment returning, we are bound to hold on here. But, when can we feel certain that this will not be the case, our duty would be to consult our own safety by retreating if possible to Bronte.”

At this moment the sentry on the campanile ran in.

“I heard a sudden outburst of firing, Captain Percival, and it is continuing.”

Followed by all the others, Frank ran up to the top of the tower. There was no doubt that a tough fight was going on: the reports of the muskets came in quick succession; sometimes there would be a short pause, and then half a dozen shots would ring out close together.

For three or four minutes not a word was spoken; then, as the reports became less frequent, Sarto exclaimed, “It is nearly over: Rubini has done his work.”

Frank was silent, and Sarto added, “Do you not think so, Percival?”

“I hope so,” Frank replied, “but I am very much afraid that it is not so. Had Rubini taken the brigands completely by surprise, there would have been one crashing volley, then he would have rushed in with the bayonet, and it would have been all over in two minutes. Some of the brigands might have escaped, but there can have been no pursuit, for in the darkness in the forest there would have been no chance whatever of overtaking men perfectly familiar with it. No, I think that they have failed in taking them by surprise, and if they did fail to do so, the brigands would either have moved off, in which case there would have been no fight at all, or have laid an ambush for our party, which would account for the heavy firing we have heard. Whether the ambush was successful, or whether Rubini has beaten his assailants off, is uncertain.”

The others saw the justness of his reasoning, and remained silent. An occasional shot was still heard.

“What do you think that means?” Maffio asked – for both he and Sarto were beginning to feel a profound respect for the opinion of their companion.

“It means, of course, that one party or the other is pursuing fugitives, and I am afraid that it is a bad sign, for, as I have just said, our men would hardly try and chase these brigands through the wood they know very well.”

They waited another five minutes. Still shots were occasionally heard.

The conviction that Frank’s worst anticipations had been but too surely verified, forced itself upon the others.

“Will you stay here a short time longer?” Frank said to the others; “I will go down into the church. I should like to think over quietly what we had best do.”

He walked up and down the church. It was a tremendous responsibility for a lad not yet seventeen to bear. Some of Rubini’s party had escaped, and might be making their way back in hopes of finding shelter and safety. What would be their feelings if they arrived and found the party gone? On the other hand, defend themselves as well as they might, six men must finally succumb before a determined attack by a large party of ruffians exulting over their victory and thirsting for complete vengeance. But by the time his companions returned from above he had made up his mind as to the plan that had best be adopted.

“We will take a middle course,” he said. “We will leave the church, and conceal ourselves within a short distance of the door into the vestry. One of us must hide close to it, so that if any of our comrades come up and knock at the door for admission, he can bring them to us. We can then learn what has happened. If even eight or ten have escaped, we will return to the church and hold it; if only one or two, we will, when the brigands arrive and there is no chance of others coming, start for Bronte.”

“That is a capital plan,” Sarto exclaimed; and a murmur from the others showed that they too warmly approved.

“There is no hurry,” Frank went on. “We will eat a good meal before we start, then there will be no occasion to burden ourselves with provisions. Before leaving, we will light fresh candles: there are four or five pounds in the vestry. We will leave four alight in each floor of the tower, and the rest in different parts of the church, so that, when the brigands do arrive, they will think that we are watchful and well prepared for them. It is not likely they will know exactly what strength Rubini had with him, but will think that we have at least ten or twelve men with us, and will be sure to hesitate a little before they make an attack. They will take some little time to burst in the great doors; and even the door of the vestry is strong enough to bear a good deal of battering before they break that in, so that we shall get a good long start of them. Of course they may pursue, but we can keep on the road for the first half-mile, and then turn off and make our way through the forest. We can’t go very far wrong, as it is always a descent; besides, for aught they will know, we may have been gone a couple of hours before they get here. I think in that way we shall have done our duty to our comrades, and at the same time secured our own safety, for we have no right to throw away our lives when we can still do some work for Italy.”

“It could not be better,” Maffio said. “In that way we shall have the consolation of knowing that none of our friends, who have been wounded, have dragged themselves here after we had left only to find that they were deserted; while on the other hand it does away with the necessity of our throwing away our lives altogether uselessly. I revert to my former idea, Percival. If ever I have sons, I will send them to one of your great schools in England. It is clear that the life there and your rough games make men of you.”

They first sat down and ate a hearty meal of bread and wine, and then fresh candles were lighted and placed as Frank had directed. Then they left the church, locking the vestry door behind them. Sarto lay down behind a tombstone ten yards from the door, and the others took their places behind the low wall that ran round the church-yard. After waiting an hour Frank returned to Sarto.

“I am going,” he said, “to conceal myself at the end of the village, close enough to the road to hear anything that is said by people coming along. If, as I hope, they may be some of our men, I will join them and bring them on here, if not I will make my way here at once, and will give a low whistle. Directly you hear me, retire and join us. It will give us a few minutes’ extra time, for you may be sure that when they see the church lighted up, those who first arrive will wait for the rest before running the risk of a shot from the tower. When all are gathered no doubt there will be a good deal of talk as to how they had best attack it.”

Leaving Sarto, Frank made his way through the gardens until he arrived at the end of the village, and then sat down behind a low wall, close to the road. In half an hour he heard footsteps, and judged that six or eight men were coming from the forest.

“There is no doubt they are on the watch there,” one of them said; “the windows in the tower are lit up, – we shall have some work to do before we finish with them. They fought bravely – I will say that for them; and although half their number fell at our first volley, they killed eight or ten of our men, and wounded as many more, before, when there were only about half a dozen of them left, they broke through us and ran. It was lucky that Phillipo’s band arrived in time, for notwithstanding the surprise, I doubt whether we should have beaten them, had we been alone. It was a good thought of Prato to send young Vico to follow that woman, and that he saw her talking to the officer.”

Frank could hear no more, but rising quietly, he retraced his steps at a run, and as soon as he joined his companions gave a low whistle, which in a minute brought Sarto to his side.

“It is as I feared,” he said: “they laid an ambush for Rubini, and shot down half his men at once; the rest kept together and fought till all but six or seven were killed, and these burst through them and took to flight; and I am afraid that those shots we heard told that some even of these were overtaken and killed. Now let us be going; there were only about eight men in the party who first came along, and we may be sure that nothing will be attempted until the rest arrive. The men had noticed our lights in the tower, and evidently expected that we should sell our lives dearly; at any rate, we can calculate upon at least half an hour before they break into the church and find that we have left.”

They were obliged to go cautiously before they gained the road beyond the village, and then they broke into a trot.

“Half an hour will mean something like four miles,” Frank said; “and as it is not likely that they can run much faster than we are going, we may safely calculate that they will not overtake us for over an hour after they do start, and by that time we shall be well within five miles of Bronte. Indeed, with the slope in our favour, I am not sure that we may not calculate upon reaching the town itself; they certainly ought not to be able to run fifteen miles while we are running eleven.”

“If they do we should deserve to be caught,” Maffio said; “but I should think that they would not follow us far, as, for anything they can tell, we may have left the church a couple of hours ago.”

There were few words spoken as they ran steadily along. The thought of the slaughter of so many of their friends oppressed them all, and the fact that they had personally escaped was, at present, a small consolation. Frank had not been long enough with the company to make the acquaintance of many of the men, but he felt the loss of Rubini extremely. At Genoa, during the voyage, and on the march to Palermo, they had been constantly together, and the older man had treated him with as much cordiality and kindness as if he had been a young brother. Frank regretted now that he had not even more strongly urged his doubts as to the expediency of the expedition, though he felt that, even had he done so, his remonstrances would have been unavailing, so convinced were Rubini and Zippo of the sincerity and good faith of the woman. As it seemed, in this respect they had been right, and he had not pressed more strongly upon them the probability of her being followed when she left the brigands after the murder of her husband. It was so natural a thing that this should be so, that he wondered it had not struck him at once. Had he urged the point, Rubini might have listened to him, and his fatal expedition might not have taken place.

It seemed to him a heartbreaking affair, and as he ran he wiped away more than one tear that ran down his cheeks. After keeping on at the same speed for three or four miles, Frank heard, by the hard breathing of his companions, that their powers were failing; he himself was running quite easily, his school training being of good service to him, and after the long runs at hare and hounds across country, four miles down hill was a trifle to him. He had, too, the advantage of not having to carry a musket and ammunition.

“We had better walk for a few hundred yards and get our breath again,” he said. And the order was thankfully obeyed.

“Are you ready to trot on?” he asked, five minutes later; and on a general assent being given, they again broke into a run.

The more he thought of it, the more persuaded Frank was that no pursuit would be set on foot. Doubtless, the first step of the brigands would be to surround the church, and to place strong parties at both doors; they would therefore know that the church must have been deserted for at least half an hour before they obtained an entry, while possibly it might have been two or three hours before; so on finding the place empty their impulse would be to go to the wine-shops and celebrate their victory, rather than to start upon a pursuit which offered small prospects indeed of success. Every few minutes they halted for a moment to listen for the sound of pursuing feet, but everything was still and quiet; and so confident did they become as to their safety, that the last three or four miles down into Bronte were performed at a walk.

“I must go and report to Bixio,” Frank said, as they entered the town. “You had better find a shelter somewhere.”

“There is no occasion for that,” Maffio replied. “The sky has been getting lighter for some little time, and it must be nearly five o’clock. It was past two when we started.”

“I will wait for another half-hour,” Frank said, “before I rouse Bixio; he is always out by six, and bad news will keep.”

Shortly before that hour he went to the general’s quarters. The house was already astir.

“The general will be down in a few minutes, captain,” an orderly said. “I called him a quarter of an hour ago.”

In two or three minutes Bixio came down.

“Have you any news?” he asked hastily, when he saw Frank, whose downcast face struck him at once.

“Yes, general; and very bad news.”

“Come in here,” Bixio said, opening the door of a sitting-room. “Now, what is it?”

“I grieve to have to report, sir, that I have arrived here with only Sarto, Maffio, and three other men of the detachment, and that I fear Captain Rubini and the whole of the rest of the men have been killed.”

Bixio started. “All killed!” he repeated, almost incredulously. “I trust that you are mistaken. What has happened?”

Frank briefly related the circumstances.

“This is sad indeed – terrible,” the general said, when he had brought his story to a conclusion. “Rubini’s loss is a grievous one; he was a good officer, and was greatly liked and trusted by us all; there were good men, too, among his company. He had fifteen men of the thousand among them. And you say this woman did not betray them?”

“No; the men I overheard, distinctly said that she was a traitress, and as soon as she was missed by them she was followed, and her meeting with the officer observed.”

“But what took you out beyond the village, Captain Percival? You have told me the main facts of this most unfortunate expedition: please give me the full details of what you did after they had left, and how you came to escape.”

“I felt uneasy from the first,” Frank said. “Directly Rubini told me about the woman, I suggested that she might be merely acting a part, in order to lead them into an ambuscade; but both Rubini and Zippo, who was with him when he met her, were absolutely convinced of her good faith.

“I also suggested that, even if they were right, the woman might possibly have been followed. Her disappearance after the murder of her husband would be almost certain to excite suspicion that she intended to avenge herself by bringing our detachment down upon them. I communicated this suspicion to Sarto and Maffio, and we at once set to work to make the church defensible.”

He then related in detail the measures they had taken, and how he became convinced, by the sound of the distant conflict, that Rubini and his party had fallen into the ambuscade and been destroyed.

“For some time I could not make up my mind what course to adopt, sir: we might have defended the tower for two or three days; but it was by no means certain – in fact, it was very improbable – that anything of what was going on would reach your ears. On the other hand, I could not withdraw my little party, as, even if my worst suspicions were correct, some of Rubini’s men might have escaped and might make their way back to the church.” He then proceeded to explain the plan he had adopted, and how it had been carried out. “I do not know whether I have acted rightly,” he concluded. “It was a terrible responsibility, but I can only say that I consulted with Sarto and Maffio, who have had far more experience than I, and that they both approved of my plan. I hope, general, you do not think that I was wrong.”

“Certainly not – certainly not. Your position was a most difficult one, and your preparations for defence were excellent; the alternatives that you had to choose between when you became convinced that Rubini had been defeated were equally painful. If you stayed and defended the place, I may almost say you would have thrown away the lives of yourself and the five men with you. If you went, any wounded men straggling back from the forest would have found neither friends nor refuge. The middle course you adopted was admirable. You would at once have saved any poor fellows who might arrive, while you ensured the safety of your little party. By illuminating the church you secured for yourself a long start; and by going out so as to overhear the conversation of the first party of brigands who entered the village, you were able to assure yourself that it was useless staying longer in hopes of any survivors of the expedition coming in.

“I have received a message from Garibaldi, ordering me to move to Taormina, on the sea-coast. He has defeated Bosco at Milazzo; and the Neapolitan general and his troops have been permitted to take ship for Naples. He said that if I had not concluded my work here I could remain for another week, as it would probably be a considerable time before the preparations made for invading Calabria were completed. I was intending to send off some messengers this morning to recall all the outlying detachments. That I shall do still; but I shall certainly remain here three or four days longer, in the hope that some of Rubini’s party may have escaped. If I thought there was the smallest chance of laying hands on this scoundrel Prato and his band, I would march with a couple of hundred men into the mountains. But we may be sure that he did not stop more than an hour or two at the village, after he learned that your party had escaped; and by to-morrow morning they may be fifty miles away, on the other side of Etna. However, as soon as our affair is over, I shall urge upon Garibaldi the necessity for sending a strong force into the mountains to put down brigandage, and especially to destroy Prato’s band.”