Henty George Alfred
The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War
"If you like," he said, "to come round with me now; my servant shall take the horses round there, put them in, and bring the wagon here; and he can then take your horses back with him to my stables.
"Please to write me a paper–signed by the name on your German pass–saying that you have bought my horses of me, and have sold me yours. Put down any figures you like as having passed between us. You are upon a very perilous expedition and, in case of anything happening to you, it would be well for me that nothing, beyond a mere business transaction, could be traced between us."
At seven o'clock the next morning they started. The distance was only thirty miles, but the roads were terribly slippery from the deep snow, now trampled flat by the immense traffic of the army. It was five in the afternoon when they reached the first sentries, at the entrance to Versailles. The pass was sufficient, and they went on uninterrupted. Percy drove, and Ralph sat beside him.
The town swarmed with officers and soldiers, of all ranks. No one paid them any attention, and they drove through the Place d'Armes and on to the marketplace; where they knew there were many inns, frequented by the market people. Here–as they expected–they found it impossible to get a bed; but they had no difficulty in obtaining permission for the wagon to stand in a yard, and were lucky enough to get stable room for the horses. They went into the town and bought four blankets; and as, at starting, they had filled the wagon two feet deep with straw, they had–in spite of the cold weather–every hope of passing a comfortable night.
Dinner was the next thing and, that over, they strolled about until nine o'clock. It was a singular sight, this army of invaders comfortably quartered in the ancient capital of France. The palace, the statues in front of it, everything told of the glories of France; every park around, every little palace was infinitely associated with its sovereigns; and here, in the midst of these memorials, the German invaders stalked carelessly, drank in the cafes, or feasted in the hotels, as if the place had belonged to them from time immemorial. Afar off, in the quiet of the evening, could be heard the distant boom of the guns round the beleaguered city.
There were several things which the Barclays wanted to get; but they had no difficulty with them, as the shops were all open, as usual. The population had a depressed look. All classes were suffering much, with the exception of the shopkeepers, whose business was as brisk as ever–save only those tradesmen who dealt in articles of female attire, for which there was no demand, whatever. The ladies of Versailles went as little as possible into the streets; and when they did so, all dressed themselves in black, or other somber colors.
By nine o'clock the shops were all closed; and the Barclays returned to their wagon, with their purchases in their hands.
"It's awfully cold, Ralph!" Percy said, as they rolled themselves in their blankets, and covered themselves over with straw.
"It is, Percy; but it will be a deal colder, in the river."
Percy gave a shudder at the thought.
"Don't you think, Ralph, that there is any possibility of entering on either of the other sides?"
"Not the slightest, Percy. It must be across the river, or not at all. The sentries will not be anything like so thick, upon that side."
Had anyone looked into the wagon, at eight o'clock next morning, he would have been surprised at the occupation upon which the boys were engaged. Each was sewing a piece of thin waterproof cloth upon a pair of white woolen gloves; so that the fingers, when outspread, had the appearance of the webbed foot of a frog.
"That ought to help us," Ralph said, when they finished. "For a really long swim, I daresay they would be very fatiguing; but it is cold, not fatigue, we have to fear, and speed is therefore everything."
At nine o'clock, Ralph went to the office of the general in command. There were a number of other persons waiting for permits, and Ralph waited his turn to go in to the officer engaged in signing them.
"I am from Frankfort, as my papers show," he said, handing the officer his pass. "I wish for a pass to go, with my horse and cart, to Bellevue. There are, I hear, many officers desirous of selling, or sending home, articles they have saved."
Saved, it may be mentioned, was the word employed in the German army for stolen–which has an ugly sound.
The officer signed the paper.
"You must not go by the Sevres route," he said. "You must turn off at Viroflay, and go by Chaville."
Half an hour later they started in the wagon At the gates of Versailles– a mile from the town–they were stopped by sentries; but allowed to pass on production of the order, with the necessary stamp.
"Everything is going on well, thus far," Ralph said, as they turned off from the main road, at Viroflay. "It looks like snow, too, which would exactly suit us."
Viroflay was crowded with Prussian troops. An officer stopped them, as they passed.
"Where are you going to?"
"We are going to Bellevue," Ralph said. "We are purchasers of any curiosities or souvenirs of the war–such as pictures, or clocks–and we also undertake to deliver, in Germany, any article which may be entrusted to our charge. We have our passes and papers, in regular order."
"Wait a minute," the officer said. "Draw up at that villa there."
The wagon drew up to the villa, the officer walking in front. He motioned to Ralph to dismount, and to follow him into the house; leaving Percy in charge of the wagon Five or six officers were sitting in what had been the drawing room of the villa.
"Who have you got here?" one of them asked, as Ralph's conductor entered.
"A worthy Hebrew," the other laughed, "who will either purchase, or carry home, articles saved."
There was a general movement of interest. The furniture of the room was a wreck, the papers were hanging in strips, a broken chair was blazing upon the fire; several family portraits on the wall were pierced with holes, having evidently served the purpose of targets, for pistol shooting.
Ralph's conductor left the room for a moment, and returned with a very handsome drawing room clock; worth, Ralph knew, at least fifteen hundred francs.
"How much will you give for that?"
Ralph examined it critically.
"Four hundred francs," he said.
"Nonsense! It cost five times that."
"About four times," Ralph said, "when it was new. It is not new, now, and it has to be taken to Germany. If you prefer it, I will carry it to Frankfort; and send it on thence by rail, at ten percent upon its value."
"Yes, I will agree to that," the officer said. "How much will that be?"
"I am content to take it at your own valuation," Ralph said. "The value you set upon the clock was two thousand francs."
There was a laugh among the other officers.
"He has you there, major."
"Not at all," the officer said. "He shall take it at the valuation he placed upon it–four hundred francs."
"Pardon me," Ralph said, "I did not value it at that sum, I only offered to give that sum for it; besides which, that was an estimate of the value I set upon it at Viroflay, not the value I should set upon it at Frankfort.
"I will say one thousand francs; that is, I will undertake it at a hundred, if you will get it put into a case of some sort."
The other officers now offered various objects, either for sale or transport–pictures, vases, clocks, and even pianos. Ralph haggled over the price of each article, in a way which would have done honor to his appearance. At last–having arranged all their matters–he said that he was going on to Bellevue; but would call and complete the purchases, and receive the goods entrusted to him, either that night or the next morning.
"If any of you gentleman would kindly give me your card, to give to the officer of the regiment at Bellevue, saying that you have found me fair in my dealing, I should feel very grateful," Ralph said, humbly.
The officer laughed, but one of them took out his card, and wrote upon it:
"Dear Von Koch, this man is–for a Hebrew–tolerably fair in his ideas."
"That is for the major of the regiment, at Bellevue," he said; and Ralph bowed, as if he had received a recommendation of the warmest kind.
"I was beginning to be alarmed, Ralph," Percy said, when his brother again took his place in the wagon.
"I have been haggling over prices," Ralph said. "Fortunately, we are not pressed for time."
They had another stop, of some duration, at Chaville; and it was nearly three o'clock in the afternoon before they came down to the back of Bellevue. Here they were stopped and, upon Ralph producing his pass, an officer came up.
"You cannot go any farther," he said. "You are close to Bellevue, now; but if you were to take this wagon into the main road, you would draw Valerien's fire upon us, at once.
"You will find most of the officers there," pointing to a large house, near.
"I have this card, for Major Von Koch," Ralph said. "I am here to buy, or carry home on commission, goods of all kinds."
The officer went with Ralph; and the scene at Viroflay was repeated, but upon a much larger scale. Viroflay is a small village, containing only a few large villas; Bellevue is composed almost entirely of handsome residences, owned by Parisians. The quantity of articles "saved" was proportionately large.
After examining and bargaining for a large number of valuable articles of furniture, pictures and clocks; Ralph left, with some of the officers, to view other articles in the villas upon the side of Bellevue, looking down upon the river. Percy had taken the horses out of the wagon, and accompanied his brother, ostensibly to carry back any articles purchased.
At one of the villas Ralph expressed a great desire to go out into the garden, to look over Paris; and the officer with him–being in an excellent humor, at the disposal of some articles at much higher prices than he had expected to receive; and at having the proceeds, in German bank notes, in his pockets–went out himself, and pointed out all the various objects of interest.
The fog of a winter's evening was already shutting in the view, but the boys could see the principal buildings of Paris. The towers of Notre Dame, the domes of the Pantheon and Invalides, the heights of Montmartre and Vilette, and the forts of Issy and Vanves were distinctly visible. The boys' eyes turned, however, more to the river at their feet, and the intervening ground, than upon the objects–however interesting–of distant Paris.
"Do not show yourself," the officer said. "If we were caught sight of, from Issy or Point du Jour–or from that gunboat, below–we should have a rain of shells about us, in no time. You can look out from among the trees; but do not get beyond their shelter, or you will be seen, instantly."
The house in whose garden they were standing stood upon the brow of the hill. Behind was a little wood, and gardens sloping pretty-steeply down. Then along by the water was a street, with houses upon either side. The river was, here, divided by an island; the lower end of which, however, scarcely extended low enough to be opposite to the spot upon which the boys were standing.
"Bless me," Ralph said, "it must be very dangerous, living down there. Why, that gunboat could blow the place into the air."
"That she could," the officer said, "and consequently, none of our men live there. We have sentries along the river bank, and a few others scattered about; but none of the troops are quartered there, nor even in this line of villas where we now are. If we were to show a light at night, in any window here, we should have a shell in in a couple of minutes. We have no fear, whatever, of a sortie in this direction; and have plenty of force behind."
Ralph and Percy lingered, upon one excuse or another; asking questions as long as they could, and making the best use of their time, to gain a fair idea of the ground that they would have to cross. They had with them, in the wagon, a map of Bellevue and Meudon upon a large scale, with every house marked upon it.
"It is going to be a dark night," the officer said, as they hurried away, "and we shall have snow before midnight."
Another hour or two was spent in purchasing various articles, taken from the French villas. Darkness had come on, and Ralph told the officers that he should not return until the next morning to Versailles; and that if the articles to be entrusted to his care for delivery were put in rough cases–of which there were plenty, which had come full of stores–and brought by ten o'clock in the morning, carefully directed, it would be in sufficient time.
"Will you give us leave to sleep in one of the villas, upon the farther side of the road?" Ralph asked the officer in command. "My boy has never seen a shot fired, in earnest; and I should like him to be able to say he had watched the fire of the forts, round Paris."
"If you sleep there," the colonel said, "you must not light a fire, or show a light, or you would bring the fire of a hundred guns upon us."
"I will be very careful, sir," Ralph answered. "Will you kindly let an orderly go with us, to pass us through the sentries? For, as it's dark now, they would not let us pass."
The colonel gave the order, and an orderly went with them. They stopped at the wagon, and each took out a large bundle.
"We shall want our blankets, tonight," Ralph said. "It is bitterly cold.
"Would you like a glass of brandy, to help keep it out, my man?"
The soldier smiled an assent, drank off a glass of brandy, and then accompanied them to the villa. Short as was the distance, they were challenged twice, and the sign and counter-sign had to be exchanged. They reached the deserted villa, threw down the bundles in a corner; and then the orderly said good night, and left them to themselves.
Chapter 16: A Desperate Attempt
"So far, so good, Percy!" Ralph said, when they heard the street door slam, as the orderly left. "Hitherto we have had the most extraordinary good fortune and, as it's going to snow–for I felt a few flakes, as we came along–I look upon it as good as done."
"It will take away from us risk of being hit, but I don't see that it will make much difference in our risk of being drowned," Percy said. "I own, Ralph, I am a great deal more afraid of that, than of the other."
"But it does, Percy. It makes all the difference in the world. We had agreed that we would put on life belts; but that we would blow the smallest quantity of air possible into them, so that they might give us some slight assistance, and yet not be too buoyant to prevent us from diving. Now we can blow them up with wind, so as to prevent the possibility of our being drowned. Once in the water, and we are safe from everything except a stray bullet. In a snowstorm, on such a dark night as this, they could not see our heads five yards off."
"But what is worse, Ralph, we shall not be able to see five yards, either; and should have no idea where we were swimming."
"I had not thought of that, Percy. Yes, that would be very serious," and Ralph thought, for some time. "It seems a risk, this, Percy; but I can see no plan, except to draw their fire."
"How do you mean?" Percy asked, puzzled.
"You see, Percy, our idea before was to get down to the shore, to put our dummy into the water, and to let it float down a hundred yards–the length of its string–and then to start ourselves, holding the other end of the string, in hopes that–if the sentries are really sharply on the lookout–they would see the dummy, instead of us, as it will be a much more conspicuous object; especially as we intended to do as much diving as we could, and our movements forward would jerk the dummy's string, and make him bob, like a man swimming. If they once caught sight of it, they would be too busy firing at it to look about for anyone else.
"Well now, I think that instead of giving up the dummy altogether–as we might have done, now that the snow has come on–we must let it float gently down, for seventy or eighty yards; and then throw a stone into the water by it, so as to draw the attention of the sentry. Or–if the sentries are pretty far apart–one of us might make a great splash in the water, when the dummy is floating; and then run back before the sentry gets up, and get into the water quietly, higher up. Their fire will act as a guide to us."
"We had better start soon, Ralph. It may take us an hour, or even two, to get down to the water; for we must go along like ghosts, so as not to alarm the sentries; and we shall have walls to get over, and all sorts of difficulties."
"All right, Percy. I do not see the use of waiting. We shall not get any warmer, by stopping here. It's like having a tooth out. One's got to do it, and the sooner it's done, the better.
"Now for our bundles."
They went downstairs into a cellar–where the light could not be seen from outside–struck a light, and lit a candle. The first thing taken out of the bundle was the dummy–a net, rather larger than a man's head, tightly filled with corks; with a cord, a hundred yards in length, attached. Next were two complete suits, made of white calico; with caps, with long flaps of the same material. Next were two large rolls of India rubber webbing, about six inches wide, which they had brought from Tours with them.
"I can't think that that will be any good, Ralph."
"It will, indeed, Percy. The water will, of course, soak through; but what gets in will remain in, and the heat of the body will warm it, a good deal. I can assure you, it will be a great deal warmer than having the icy water flowing past you."
Both boys now took off their coats and waistcoats, put on a warm flannel jersey over their flannel shirts, and then wound the bandages of India rubber round each other's bodies. They began under the arms; drawing the webbing tight, as they wound it round, so that its natural elasticity caused each turn to press tightly upon the turn above, which it overlapped. This bandage was continued down to the lower part of the body. Then they put on the life belts. Over them they put their suits of white calico, white shoes with India rubber soles, the white caps, and swimming gloves.
They then put the "dummy" in a pillow case, which they had bought for it at Versailles. Before putting on their caps, they fastened the quills with the dispatches in their hair. In a belt, underneath their jackets, each carried a heavy revolver.
"This India rubber stuff regularly squeezes me, Ralph."
"All the better, Percy. You will feel the benefit of it, when you are in the water, believe me."
The boys now knelt down together, and asked for protection through the peril which they were about to encounter. A few minutes later they rose, grasped each other's hand; and then–blowing out the light–groped their way upstairs, opened a window which led into the garden, and stepped out.
The wind was blowing strongly. Snowflakes were being whisked hither and thither, like spray from a wave. Had it not been for the gleam from the snow-covered ground, it would have been impossible to see ten paces, here. As it was, it was intensely dark.
"It's lucky that it's downhill, Percy, or we should never find our way to the water's edge. If we keep descending, we must be there, at last."
Before starting, the boys went a few paces from each other; and were pleased to find that their white costumes suited admirably as, between the driving snow and the white sheet upon the ground, they could not make each other out at more than eight or ten yards, even when they knew exactly where they stood. They now began to descend the hill, very carefully, step by step. The snow upon the ground made walking much more easy than it otherwise would have been. Their footsteps–muffled alike by the India-rubber soles, and the snow upon which they walked–were inaudible, even to themselves. They had several walls to climb, and the noiseless India-rubber soles were of good service, here. Several times they could hear the sentries, beating their feet upon the ground to warm them; but in no case were they near enough to see them.
At last, after an hour and a half–spent in passing the three hundred yards which separated them from the river–they reached, in safety, the wall of the road which runs along by the river. Here the sentries were pacing along at distances of thirty or forty yards apart. The white houses, upon the opposite side of the road, could be faintly seen; and the boys moved along until opposite an opening between them, by which they could get through to the river. Looking over the wall, they could watch the sentries and–choosing their time when one had just passed, so that his back would be turned towards them–he no sooner disappeared in the darkness than they dropped noiselessly into the road, ran across the street, climbed a low railing, and stood in a garden which reached down to the river.
They stood watching, for some time, to assure themselves that no sentry was placed in the garden; but at last they stole forwards and stood at the end of the garden, with the river at their feet. The snow–which was at their backs–was falling faster than ever. The river deepened rapidly from the wall; but the water was low enough for anyone to get along on the sloping side–faced with rough stone–between the foot of the wall and the water.
The boys got over the wall, took the dummy from the bag and, holding one end of the cord, put it quietly into the water; and allowed it to float down, about sixty yards.
"Now, Percy," Ralph said, "you get ready to slip into the water, as quietly as possible, the moment you hear a splash. I will leave this bag here, so as to know exactly where you have gone in and–as the rope is plenty long enough–you keep hold of it here, at sixty yards from the dummy; and I will fasten the slack end to the stone so that, when I go in, I have only to hold the rope in my hand, to be able to join you. I will take this heavy coping stone in my hand; will crawl along on this shelving bank, till I arrive at the dummy; and will then throw the stone in, and run back at full speed, and be in the water a few seconds after you are."
"All right, Ralph, I understand. Keep your pistol cocked in your hand, as you go."
Ralph crept quietly along, under the wall, until he saw the dummy floating at the edge of the water, a few feet below him. He rose on his feet, to throw in the stone; when he heard a deep exclamation behind him and, looking round, he saw a dark figure within two feet of him. Another moment, and the sentry would have brought his rifle to his shoulder– for he sprang back, giving a loud shout–but Ralph wheeled round instantaneously, threw up his revolver, and fired at the sentinel's body.
He saw him fall; turned round, hurled the heavy stone with a loud splash into the water, and then–crawling low under the wall–ran at full speed back again. As he did so, two sentries in the garden over his head fired, in the direction of the splash in the water; and shouts were heard all along the bank.
In another instant Ralph grasped the line, and slid down the snowy slopes into the water; entering so quietly that no sound, whatever, betrayed his entry. It was icy cold, and almost took away his breath. Twenty strokes, and he joined Percy.
"All right, old man, they can't see us now."
"You are not hit, are you, Ralph?" Percy gasped.
"No, it was my revolver. I had to shoot a sentry, to save my life. It's lucky we have got these life belts on, for I am sure we should never get across."
"There! There!" was shouted, in German. "I see his head bobbing up and down," and eight or ten rifle shots were fired, from the garden where the sentry had fallen, in the direction of the dummy.
The boys swam on desperately, then Ralph said:
"You can slip the string now, Percy. The dummy has done its work. It must be quite out of sight from the bank.
"Do not you feel the benefit of the India rubber?"
"Yes," Percy said, "I am warm enough, in the body; but my legs are in agony, from the cold. These gloves are helping us on, though, at a great rate."
"Well, there is one blessing," Ralph said, "we can't miss the way, now."
As he spoke, a heavy fire of musketry opened from the French, upon the other side. Alarmed at the sudden fire on the part of the Germans, they fired at the flashes of their guns and, fresh reinforcements coming up on either side, a heavy exchange of musketry shots took place across the river; partially over the boys' heads, but principally a hundred yards lower down the stream, in the direction where the dummy was seen by the Germans.
The boys swam with long, steady, noiseless strokes.
"We must be halfway across," Ralph said.
"I am getting deadly cold, all over, Ralph. I can't sink, of course; but I shall freeze to death, before I reach the opposite bank."
"No, no, Percy," Ralph said, as cheerily as he could; though he felt, himself, that the intense cold was rapidly overcoming his strength. "Keep up your heart. Strike as hard as you can. The more you exert yourself, the better."
In another minute or two, Ralph found he was leaving Percy behind, and slackened his speed.
"Goodbye, Ralph. My legs are all cramped up, and my arms are numbed. I can't swim another stroke. It is all up with me," he said, faintly. "God bless you. Don't stop with me; you can do no good, and your only chance is to go on."
Ralph, however, put one hand upon Percy's life belt, and struck out for shore; but he felt that it was hopeless. Frightful pains were shooting through his limbs, and he breathed what he believed to be a last prayer; when a boom like thunder, a few yards off, galvanized him into life again–for he saw the gunboat, which they had seen in the morning, only a few yards distant. She had just fired a gun, loaded with grape, in the direction of the Germans who were firing. She was still at anchor, and the stream was drifting them down fast upon her.
"Help!" Ralph shouted. "Help! We are drowning, and have dispatches Throw a rope, quick!"
"Where are you?" answered a voice.
"Here, close to you, just abreast," Ralph shouted.
In another instant a rope struck his face. He grasped it, twisted it tightly round Percy's body and his own, tied a rough knot with his last strength, and then lost consciousness.
When he recovered his senses, his first sensation was that of intense pain–so intense that it extracted a groan from him.
"That's right, rub away; and pour some more brandy down his throat," a voice said.
Then he became conscious that he was being rubbed with hot flannels. He opened his eyes, and saw a gleaming of moving machinery, and the red glare of furnaces.
"Where am I?" he asked, at last.
"In the engine room of the gunboat Farcey," a voice said.
"I am suffering agony," Ralph murmured, between his teeth.
"I daresay," the officer who was standing by him answered. "You were pretty near frozen to death. Luckily your life belts kept you from taking in any water, but it was a near squeak. Another three minutes in the water, and the doctor says it would have been all up with you."
"Where is my brother?" Ralph asked suddenly; sitting up, with a full consciousness of all that had passed.
"He is coming round," the officer said. "He was farther gone than you were; and his heart's action was altogether suspended, from the cold. His limbs are twitching now, and the doctor says he will do.
"You call him your brother, but I suppose you mean your son?"
"Please lend me some clothes," Ralph said. "I can stand, now."
Some clothes had already been got in readiness, and warmed; and in a couple of minutes Ralph was kneeling by his brother's side. Percy was now coming to, and was suffering agonies similar to those which Ralph himself had experienced, from the recommencement of circulation in his limbs. He looked round, utterly bewildered; for he had become insensible before the Farcey's gun had given notice of her proximity. He smiled, however, when his eyes fell on Ralph's face.
"It is all right, Percy, thank God," Ralph said. "We are on board the gunboat Farcey and, in ten minutes, we shall be landed in the heart of Paris."
In another five minutes, Percy was sufficiently recovered to begin to dress. The commander of the Farcey now turned to Ralph.
"Your son has had a very narrow shave of it, sir."
"Son!" Ralph said, "He is my brother."
The officer looked surprised.
"How old do you take me to be?" Ralph asked.
"Forty-five or fifty," the officer said.
"I shall not be seventeen for some months," Ralph answered.
The officer looked at him with an air of intense astonishment, and there was a burst of laughter from the men standing round. The commandant frowned angrily at them.
"Quite so, my dear sir," he said, soothingly. "I was only joking with you. It is evident that you are not yet seventeen."
"You think I have lost my senses, with the shock," Ralph said, smiling. "I can assure you that that is my age. My beard and whiskers are so firmly fixed on, with cobbler's wax, that I shall have an awful trouble to get them off; and my hair the same. If you feel along here, from one ear to the other, you will feel a ridge. That is the cobbler's wax, that sticks all this mass of frizzled hair on.
"Did you not notice that both my brother's and my face and hands were much darker than the rest of our skin?"
"Yes, the doctor did notice that," the captain said–now beginning to think that Ralph was not insane, after all.
Passing his finger where Ralph directed him, he felt the ridge of the false hair.
"Who are you then, may I ask?" he said.
"My brother and myself are named Barclay," Ralph said. "We are lieutenants in the army, and are both decorated for service in the field. We left Tours four days ago, and are bearers of dispatches from Gambetta to General Trochu."
A cheer broke from all who were standing within hearing; and the boys' hands–for Percy came up at the moment–were warmly shaken by the officers of the boat, one after another. Congratulations of all sorts were heaped upon them, and those around were unable to make enough of them.
