Part 48 (1/2)

”Thank goodness,” Ralph said, ”we can't have been very badly beaten, if we were able to fight three drawn battles within about twenty miles of a first defeat.”

For the next two days, Ralph improved in health. Then he had a relapse, and was very ill, for some days. Then he began, steadily but slowly, to gain strength. It was three weeks after his arrival at the cottage before he could walk, another week before he had recovered his strength sufficiently to think of moving.

One of his first anxieties--after recovering consciousness after his first, and longest, attack of fever--had been upon the subject of the terrible anxiety which they must be feeling, at home, respecting him. They would have heard, from Colonel Tempe, that he was missing and, as he would have been seen to fall, it was probable that he was reported as dead. Ralph's only consolation was that, as the Germans were at Dijon, the communication would be very slow, and uncertain; and although it was now ten days since the engagement, it was possible--if he could but get a letter sent, at once--that they would get it nearly, if not quite as quickly as the one from Colonel Tempe; especially if as was very probable the colonel would be a great deal too engaged, during the week's tremendous fighting which succeeded the day upon which Ralph was wounded, for him to be able to write letters.

The first time that he saw the English surgeon, he mentioned this anxiety, and the doctor at once offered to take charge of a letter; and to forward it with his own, in the military post bag, to the headquarters of the ambulance at Versailles, together with a note to the head of the ambulance there, begging him to get it sent on in the first bag for Dijon. In this way, it would arrive at its destination within four or five days, at most, of its leaving Orleans.

It was on the 2nd of January--exactly a month from the date of the fight in which he was wounded--that, after very many thanks to his kind host and hostess, and after forcing a handsome present upon them, Ralph started--in a peasant's dress which had been bought for him--for Orleans. He had still plenty of money with him; for he had drawn the reward, of fifty thousand francs, in Paris. The greater portion of this money he had paid into the hands of a banker, at Tours, but Percy and he had kept out a hundred pounds each; knowing by experience how useful it is, in case of being taken prisoner, to have plenty of money. Ralph's wound was still bound up with plaster, and to conceal it a rabbit-skin cap with flaps had been bought so that, by letting down the flaps and tying them under the chin, the greater part of the cheeks were covered.

The farmer had made inquiries among his neighbors and, finding one who was going into Orleans, with a horse and cart, he had asked him to give Ralph a lift to that place. The start had been effected early, and it was three o'clock when they drove into Orleans. Here Ralph shook hands with his driver--who wished him a safe journey home--and strolled leisurely down the streets.

Orleans presented a miserable aspect. The inhabitants kept themselves shut up in their houses, as much as possible. The bishop was kept a prisoner, by the Prussians, in his own palace; troops were quartered in every house; the inhabitants were, for the most part, in a state of poverty; and the shops would have been all shut, had not the Prussians ordered them to be kept open. The streets were thronged with German troops, and long trains of carts were on their way through, with provisions for the army. These carts were requisitioned from the peasantry, and were frequently taken immense distances from home; the owner--or driver, if the owner was rich enough to pay one--being obliged to accompany them.

Many were the sad scenes witnessed in these convoys. The grief of a father dragged away, not knowing what would become of his wife and children, during his absence. The anguish of a laborer at seeing his horse fall dead with fatigue, knowing well that he had no means of taking his cart home again; and that he had nothing to do but to return to his home, and tell his wife that the horse and cart--which const.i.tuted his sole wealth--were gone.

Ralph waited until, late in the afternoon, he saw a long train halt by one of the bridges. It was evidently intending to cross, the next morning, and go down south. In a short time the horses were taken out, and fastened by halters to the carts; two or three soldiers took up their posts as sentries, and the drivers were suffered to leave--the Germans knowing that there was no chance of their deserting, and leaving their horses and carts.

The poor fellows dispersed through the town. Those who had any money bought food. Those who had not, begged; for the Germans allowed them no rations, and left them to s.h.i.+ft for themselves--or starve--as they liked. Ralph joined in conversation with a group of these, who were relating their hards.h.i.+ps to two or three sympathetic listeners. An old man, especially, was almost heartbroken. His wife was dying, and he had been forced from her bedside.

”What could I do?” he asked, pitifully. ”I was a carrier. My horse and cart were all I had in the world. If I had not gone with them they were lost for ever. What was I to do?”

No one could answer him but, when the party had broken up, Ralph went up to him.

”How much are your horse and cart worth?” he asked.

”The horse is worth five hundred francs,” he said. ”The cart is an old one--two hundred and fifty would pay for it. It is not much, you see, but it is all I have.”

”Look here, old man,” Ralph said, ”I am not what I look. I am a French officer, and I want to get down near the Prussian outposts, but without pa.s.ses I could not get on. Besides I have been wounded, and am too weak to walk far. I will give you the seven hundred and fifty francs which are the value of your horse and cart, and will take your place as driver; so that you can start back, at once, to your wife. Do you agree?”

The old man was so affected with joy that he burst into tears.

”G.o.d bless you, sir,” he said. ”You have saved my life, and my poor wife's life, too.”

”Very well, it is a bargain, then,” Ralph said. ”Here is half the money. You shall have the rest tomorrow.

”Now you must go with me tomorrow morning, at the hour for starting; and tell the officer in charge that I am a nephew of yours--living here, but out of work, at present--and that you have arranged with me to drive the cart, as long as it's wanted, and then to take it home again.”

After a few more words, the peasant took him back and showed him his cart; in order that he might know where to find him, in the morning.

”We start at daybreak,” he said, ”so you had better be here by half-past six.”

”Where do you sleep?” Ralph asked.

”I? Oh, I don't sleep much. I lie down for a bit, underneath the carts; and then walk about to warm myself.”

”Take this warm fur coat of mine,” Ralph said. ”It will keep you warm tonight, anyhow. I shan't want it; I shall get a bed somewhere.”

The coat was the one Ralph had worn on his night walk, after being wounded. He had had all the braid, and the fur of the collar and cuffs taken off; and had had it purposely dirtied, so that it was no longer a garment which could attract attention, on the back of a man with a cart.