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The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars, a novel by George Alfred Henty |
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Chapter 8. The Old Mill |
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_ A considerable portion of the allied army were quartered in the barracks and forts of Liege, in large convents requisitioned for the purpose, and in outlying villages. The 5th dragoons had assigned to them a convent some two miles from the town. The monks had moved out, and gone to an establishment of the same order in the town, and the soldiers were therefore left to make the best they could of their quarters. There was plenty of room for the men, but for the horses there was some difficulty. The cloisters were very large, and these were transformed into stables, and boards were fastened up on the open faces to keep out the cold; others were stalled in sheds and outbuildings; and the great refectory, or dining hall, was also strewn thick with straw, and filled with four rows of horses. In the afternoon the officers generally rode or walked down into the town. One day, Rupert Holliday with Pat Dillon had met their friends Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday, whose regiment was quartered in the town, at the principal wine shop, a large establishment, which was the great gathering place of the officers of the garrison. There an immense variety of bright uniforms were to be seen; English, German, and Dutch, horse, foot, and artillery; while the serving men hurried about through the throng with trays piled with beer mugs, or with wine and glasses. "Who is that officer," Dillon asked, "in the Hessian cavalry uniform? Methinks he eyes you with no friendly look." Rupert and his friends glanced at the officer pointed out. "It is that fellow Fulke," Sir John said. "I heard he had managed to obtain a commission in the army of the Landgrave of Hesse. You must keep a smart lookout, Master Rupert, for his presence bodes you no good. He is in fitting company; that big German officer next to him is the Graff Muller, a turbulent swashbuckler, but a famous swordsman--a fellow who would as soon run you through as look at you, and who is a disgrace to the Margrave's army, in which I wonder much that he is allowed to stay." "Who is the fellow you are speaking of?" Dillon asked. "A gentleman with whom our friend Rupert had a difference of opinion," Sir John Loveday laughed. "There is a blood feud between them. Seriously, the fellow has a grudge against our friend, and as he is the sort of man to gratify himself without caring much as to the means he uses, I should advise Master Holliday not to trust himself out alone after dark. There are plenty of ruined men in these German regiments who would willingly cut a throat for a guinea, especially if offered them by one of their own officers." "The scoundrel is trying to get Muller to take up his quarrel, or I am mistaken," Lord Fairholm, who had been watching the pair closely, said. "They are glancing this way, and Fulke has been talking earnestly. But ruffian as he is, Muller is of opinion that for a notorious swordsman like him to pick a quarrel with a lad like our friend would be too rank, and would, if he killed him, look so much like murder that even he dare not face it; he has shaken his head very positively." "But why should not this Fulke take the quarrel in his own hands?" Dillon asked, surprised. "Unless he is the rankest of cowards he might surely consider himself a match for our little cornet?" "Our little cornet has a neat hand with the foils," Lord Fairholm said drily, "and Master Fulke is not unacquainted with the fact." "Why, Rupert," Dillon said, turning to him, "you have never said that you ever had a foil in your hand!" "You never asked me," Rupert said, smiling. "But I have practised somewhat with the colonel my grandfather. And now it is time to be off, Dillon; we have to walk back." Four days later, as Rupert Holliday was standing in the barrack yard, his troop having just been dismissed drill, a trooper of the 1st dragoons rode into the yard, and after asking a question of one of the men, rode up to him and handed him a note. Somewhat surprised he opened it, and read as follows:
"P.S. It would be as well not to mention whither you are going to ride."
"Shall I go with you, Master Rupert?" Hugh asked, for he generally rode behind Rupert as his orderly. Rupert did not answer for a moment. Lord Fairholm had asked him to tell no one; but he meant, no doubt, that he should tell none of his brother officers. On Hugh's silence, whatever happened, he could rely, and he would be useful to hold the horses. At any rate, if not wanted, he could return. "Ay, Hugh, you can come; and look you, slip a brace of pistols quietly into each of our holsters." With a momentary look of surprise, Hugh withdrew to carry out his instructions; and ten minutes later, Rupert, followed by his orderly, rode out of the convent. The mill in question lay some three miles distant, and about half a mile beyond the little hamlet of Dettinheim. It stood some distance from the road, up a quiet valley, and was half hidden in trees. It had been worked by a stream that ran down the valley. It was a dark, gloomy-looking structure; and the long green weeds that hung from the great wheel, where the water from the overshot trough splashed and tumbled over it, showed that it had been for some time abandoned. These things had been noticed by Rupert when riding past it some time before, for, struck with the appearance of the mill, he had ridden up the valley to inspect it. On his ride to Lord Fairholm's rendezvous, he wondered much what could be the nature of the adventure in which they were about to embark. He knew that both his friends were full of life and high spirits, and his thoughts wandered between some wild attempt to carry off a French officer of importance, or an expedition to rescue a lovely damsel in distress. Hugh, equally wondering, but still more ignorant of the nature of the expedition, rode quietly on behind. The road was an unfrequented one, and during the last two miles' ride they did not meet a single person upon it. The hamlet of Dettinheim contained four or five houses only, and no one seemed about. Another five minutes' riding took them to the entrance to the little valley in which the mill stood. They rode up to it, and then dismounted. "It's a lonesome dismal-looking place, Master Rupert. It doesn't seem to bode good. Of course you know what you're come for, sir; but I don't like the look of the place, nohow." "It does not look cheerful, Hugh; but I am to meet Lord Fairholm and Sir John Loveday here." "I don't see any sign of them, Master Rupert. I'd be careful if I were you, for it's just the sort of place for a foul deed to be done in. It does not look safe." "It looks old and haunted," Rupert said; "but as that is its natural look, I don't see it can help it. The door is open, so my friends are here." "Look out, Master Rupert; you may be running into a snare." Rupert paused a moment, and the thought flashed across his mind that it might, as Hugh said, be a snare; but with Lord Fairholm's letter in his pocket, he dismissed the idea. "You make me nervous, Hugh, with your suggestions. Nevertheless I will be on my guard;" and he drew his sword as he entered the mill. As he did so, Hugh, who was holding the horses' bridles over his arm, snatched a brace of pistols from the holsters, cocked them, and stood eagerly listening. He heard Rupert walk a few paces forward, and then pause, and shout "Where are you, Fairholm?" Then he heard a rush of heavy feet, a shout from Rupert, a clash of swords, and a scream of agony. All this was the work of a second; and as Hugh dropped the reins and rushed forward to his master's assistance, he heard a noise behind him, and saw a dozen men issue from behind the trees, and run towards him. Coming from the light, Hugh could with difficulty see what was taking place in the darkened chamber before him. In an instant, however, he saw Rupert standing with his back to a wall, with a dead man at his feet, and four others hacking and thrusting at him. Rushing up, Hugh fired his two pistols. One of the men dropped to the ground, the other with an oath reeled backwards. "Quick, sir! there are a dozen men just upon us." Rupert ran one of his opponents through the shoulder, and as the other drew back shouted to Hugh, "Up the stairs, Hugh! Quick!" The two lads sprang up the wide steps leading to the floor above, just as the doorway was darkened by a mass of men. The door at the top of the steps yielded to their rush, the rotten woodwork giving, and the door falling to the ground. Two or three pistol bullets whizzed by their ears, just as they leapt through the opening. "Up another floor, Hugh; and easy with the door." The door at the top of the next ladder creaked heavily as they pushed it back on its hinges. "Look about, Hugh, for something to pile against it." The shutters of the window were closed, but enough light streamed through the chinks and crevices for them to see dimly. There was odd rubbish strewn all about, and in one corner a heap of decaying sacks. To these both rushed, and threw some on the floor by the door, placing their feet on them to keep them firm, just as with a rush the men came against it. This door was far stronger than the one below, but it gave before the weight. "The hinges will give," Hugh exclaimed; but at the moment Rupert passed his thin rapier through one of the chinks of the rough boards which formed it, and a yell was heard on the outside. The pressure against the door ceased instantly; and Rupert bade Hugh run for some more sacks, while he threw himself prone on them on the ground. It was well he did so, for, as he expected, a half-dozen pistol shots were heard, and the bullets crashed through the woodwork. "Keep out of the line of fire, Hugh." Hugh did so, and threw down the sacks close to the door. Several times he ran backwards and forwards across the room, the assailants still firing through the door. Then Rupert leapt up, and the pile of sacks were rapidly heaped against the door, just as the men outside, in hopes that they had killed the defenders, made another rush against it. This time, however, the pile of sacks had given it strength and solidity, and it hardly shook under the assault. Then came volleys of curses and imprecations, in German, from outside; and then the lads could hear the steps descend the stairs, and a loud and angry consultation take place below. "Open the shutters, Hugh, and let us see where we are." It was a chamber of some forty feet square, and, like those below it, of considerable height. It was like the rest of the mill, built of rough pine, black with age. It had evidently been used as a granary. "This is a nice trap we have fallen into, Hugh, and I doubt me if Lord Fairholm ever saw the letter with his name upon it which lured me here. However, that is not the question now; the thing is how we are to get out of the trap. How many were there outside, do you think?" "There seemed to me about a dozen, Master Rupert, but I got merely a blink at them." "If it were not for their pistols we might do something, Hugh; but as it is, it is hopeless." Looking out from the window they saw that it was over the great water wheel, whose top was some fifteen feet below them, with the water running to waste from the inlet, which led from the reservoir higher up the valley. Presently they heard a horse gallop up to the front of the mill, and shortly after the sound of a man's voice raised in anger. By this time it was getting dark. "What'll be the end of this, Master Rupert? We could stand a siege for a week, but they'd hardly try that." "What's that?" Rupert said. "There's some one at the door again." They came back, but all was quiet. Listening attentively, however, they heard a creaking, as of someone silently descending the stairs. For some time all was quiet, except that they could hear movements in the lower story of the mill. Presently Rupert grasped Hugh's arm. "Do you smell anything, Hugh?" "Yes, sir, I smell a smoke." "The scoundrels have set the mill on fire, Hugh." In another minute or two the smell became stronger, and then wreaths of smoke could be seen curling up through the crevices in the floor. "Run through the other rooms, Hugh; let us see if there is any means of getting down." There were three other rooms, but on opening the shutters they found in each case a sheer descent of full forty feet to the ground, there being no outhouses whose roofs would afford them a means of descent. "We must rush downstairs, Hugh. It is better to be shot as we go out, than be roasted here." Rapidly they tore away the barrier of sacks, and Rupert put his thumb on the latch. He withdrew it with a sharp exclamation. "They have jammed the latch, Hugh. That was what that fellow we heard was doing." The smoke was now getting very dense, and they could with difficulty breathe. Rupert put his head out of the window. "There is a little window just over the wheel," he said. "If we could get down to the next floor we might slip out of that and get in the wheel without being noticed. "Look about, Hugh," he exclaimed suddenly; "there must be a trapdoor somewhere for lowering the sacks. There is a wheel hanging to the ceiling; the trap must be under that." In a minute the trap was found, and raised. The smoke rushed up in a volume, and the boys looked with dismay at the dense murk below. "It's got to be done, Hugh. Tie that bit of sacking, quick, over your nose and mouth, while I do the same. Now lower yourself by your arms, and drop; it won't be above fifteen feet. Hold your breath, and rush straight to the window. I heard them open it. Now, both together now." The lads fell over their feet, and were in another minute at the window. The broad top of the great wheel stretched out level with them, hiding the window from those who might have been standing below. The wheel itself was some thirty feet in diameter, and was sunk nearly half its depth in the ground, the water running off by a deep tail race. "We might lie flat on the top of the wheel," Hugh said. "We should be roasted to death when the mill is fairly in flames. No, Hugh; we must squeeze through this space between the wall and the wheel, slip down by the framework, and keep inside the wheel. There is no fear of that burning, and we shall get plenty of fresh air down below the level of the mill. "I will go first, Hugh. Mind how you go, for these beams are all slimy; get your arm well round, and slip down as far as the axle." It was not an easy thing to do, and Rupert lost his hold and slipped down the last ten feet, hurting himself a good deal in his fall. He was soon on his feet again, and helped to break the fall of Hugh, who lost his hold and footing at the axle, and would have hurt himself greatly, had not Rupert caught him, both boys falling with a crash in the bottom of the wheel. They were some little time before regaining their feet, for both were much hurt. Their movements were, however, accelerated by the water, which fell in a heavy shower from above, through the leaks in the buckets of the wheel. "Are you hurt much, Master Rupert?" "I don't think I am broken at all, Hugh, but I am hurt all over. How are you?" "I am all right, I think. It's lucky the inside of this wheel is pretty smooth, like a big drum." The position was not a pleasant one. A heavy shower of water from above filled the air with spray, and with their heads bent down it was difficult to breathe. The inside planks of the wheel were so slimy that standing was almost impossible, and at the slightest attempt at movement they fell. Above, the flames were already darting out through the windows and sides of the mill. "Do you not think we might crawl out between the wheel and the wall, and make our way down the tail race, Master Rupert? This water is chilling me to the bones." "I think it safer to stop where we are, Hugh. Those fellows are sure to be on the watch. They will expect to see us jump out of the upper window the last thing, and will wait to throw our bodies--for of course we should be killed--into the flames, to hide all trace of us. We have only to wait quietly here. It is not pleasant; but after all the trouble we have had to save our lives, it would be a pity to risk them again. And I have a very particular desire to be even with that fellow, who is, I doubt not, at the bottom of all this." Soon the flames were rushing out in great sheets from the mill, and even in the wheel the heat of the atmosphere was considerable. Presently a great crash was heard inside. "There is a floor fallen," Rupert said. "I think we may move now; those fellows will have made off secure that-- "Hullo! What's that?" The exclamation was caused by a sudden creaking noise, and the great wheel began slowly to revolve. The fall of the floor had broken its connection with the machinery in the mill, and left free, it at once yielded to the weight of the water in its buckets. The supply of water coming down was small, and the wheel stiff from long disuse, therefore it moved but slowly. The motion, however, threw both lads from their feet, and once down, the rotatory motion rendered it impossible for them to regain their feet. After the first cry of surprise, neither spoke; across both their minds rushed the certainty of death. How long the terrible time that followed lasted, neither of them ever knew. The sensation was that of being pounded to death. At one moment they were together, then separated; now rolling over and over in a sort of ball, then lifted up and cast down into the bottom of the wheel with a crash; now with their heads highest, now with their feet. It was like a terrible nightmare; but gradually the sharp pain of the blows and falls were less vivid--a dull sensation came over them--and both lost consciousness. Rupert was the first to open his eyes, and for a time lay but in dreamy wonder as to where he was, and what had happened. He seemed to be lying under a great penthouse, with a red glow pervading everything. Gradually his thoughts took shape, and he remembered what had passed, and struggling painfully into a sitting position, looked round. The wheel no longer revolved; there was no longer the constant splash of water. Indeed the wheel existed as a wheel no longer. As he looked round the truth lighted upon him. The burning mill had fallen across the wheel, crushing, at the top, the sides together. The massive timber had given no further, and the wheel formed a sort of roof, sloping from the outer wall, built solidly up against it, to the opposite foot. Above, the timber of this wall glared and flickered, but the soddened timber of the wheel could have resisted a far greater amount of heat. The leet had of course been carried away with the fall, and the water would be flowing down the valley. The heat was very great, but the rush of air up the deep cut of the mill race rendered it bearable. Having once grasped the facts--and as he doubted not the fall must have occurred soon after he lost consciousness, and so saved him from being bruised to death--Rupert turned to Hugh. He was quite insensible, but his heart still beat. Rupert crawled out of the wheel, and found pools of water in the mill race, from which he brought double handfuls, and sprinkled Hugh's face. Then as he himself grew stronger from fresh air and a copious dousing of his face and head with water, he dragged Hugh out, and laying him beside a pool dashed water on his face and chest. A deep sigh was the first symptom of returning consciousness. He soon, to Rupert's delight, opened his eyes. After a time he sat up, but was too much hurt to rise. After some consultation, Rupert left him, and went alone down to the hamlet of Dettinheim, where, after much knocking, he roused some of the inhabitants, who had only a short time before returned from the burning mill. Sodden and discoloured as it was, Rupert's uniform was still recognizable, and by the authority this conveyed, and a promise of ample reward, four men were induced to return with him to the mill, and carry Hugh down to the village. This they reached just as the distant clock of Liege cathedral struck two. A bed was given up to them, and in half an hour both lads were sound asleep. _ |