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In the King's Name: The Cruise of the "Kestrel", a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 28. A Race For Liberty |
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_ CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT. A RACE FOR LIBERTY It was a question of time. Could Hilary get across the moat before the men who ran off to stop him reached the bridge, crossed, then ran along the other side? Appearances were against Hilary, and he saw that they were. In fact, so black was the lookout, that he half thought of finding a shallow place and standing there amongst the waterlilies, laughing at his pursuers. "Only it would look so stupid," he muttered; "and I should be obliged to come out at last." He was striking out pretty well, and, but for the fact that his late exertions had told upon him, he felt that he would have got across with ease. "It's too bad, though," he thought; "and Sir Henry isn't half the fellow I thought him if he allows me to be taken. Hullo! Hurrah! Down they go!" he exclaimed, as, straining his eyes towards the bridge, he saw one man trip and fall out of sight behind the low wall and another go over him. This reanimated him; and, taking long, slow strokes, he was soon pretty close to the farther side, with the determination in him strong to get away. Fortunately he had retained the cutlass; and as he reached the bank and scrambled out, dripping like some huge Newfoundland dog, Allstone came panting up and seized him by the collar. "Not this time, my lad," he growled, showing his teeth. "You thought you had done it, didn't you?" "Let go!" panted Hilary, as the water streamed down and made a pool. "Yes, when I've got you in a safer place," was the reply. "Here, come along, you two. No; one of you fetch a rope." This was to his followers, one of whom was limping, and the other bleeding from a cut in the face caused by his fall. "Will you let go?" cried Hilary hoarsely, but fast regaining his breath. "There, it's no use for you to struggle, my boy," said Allstone. "Murder! Here! Help!" Hilary had glanced round and taken in his position. Sir Henry was standing holding Adela, who had hidden her face in his breast so as not to see the struggle, while her father made no attempt to interfere. The two men were close up; and as Allstone held him firmly he felt that he was about to be dragged back to his prison like some drowned rat, and he vowed that he would not give up if he died for it. For Hilary's blood was now up, and, wrenching himself round, he got hold of the hilt of the cutlass, where it stuck in his belt, dragged it out, and in doing so struck his captor beneath the chin with the pommel. So sharp was the blow that Allstone quitted his hold, uttering hoarse cries, and staggered back two or three yards, while Hilary drove him farther by making at him as if about to deliver point. The two injured men, in answer to their leader's call, now made an attempt to seize Hilary; but their effort was a faint-hearted one, for on the young officer making a dash at them they gave way, and, waving his hand to Sir Henry, he dashed across the road and along a winding lane. "A set of cowards!" he muttered. "The cutlass would hardly cut butter, and it would want a hammer to drive in its point. Yes; you may shout. You don't suppose I am coming back?" He looked over his shoulder, and saw that Allstone and four men were now after him, and that, if he meant to get away, he must use his last remaining strength, for, clumsily as they ran, he was so tired with his recent exertions that they were diminishing the distance fast. "I wonder how many pounds of water I've got to carry?" muttered Hilary, as he ran on, with the moisture still streaming from him, and making a most unpleasant noise in his boots. "There's one good thing, though," he said: "it keeps on growing less." It was a lonely, winding lane, with the trees meeting overhead, and the sunshine raining down, as it were, in silvery streams upon the dappled earth. On either side were ancient hazel clumps, with here and there a majestic moss-covered oak or beech. It was, in fact, such a place as a lover of nature would have been loath to quit; and even in his time of need Hilary was not insensible to the beauties of the spot, but he could not help feeling that the rutty roadway was atrocious. "Well, it's as bad for them as it is for me," he said to himself as he ran at a steady trot--now in full view, now hidden from his pursuers by the windings of the lane. "I wonder whether this is the lane they brought me along with that jackass," he thought; and then, as his clothes grew lighter and stuck less closely to his limbs, he began to wonder how long they would take to dry. "Well, that don't matter," he thought; "I shan't be allowed to sit down and rest just yet." He glanced back; and saw that his pursuers were out of sight, and he was just about to take advantage of the fact and spring over into the wood when they came in view again and uttered a shout. "Anyone would think I was a hare and they were trying to run me down," he said. "Get out, you yelping curs!" Hare-like, indeed; for he was looking back and thinking of his pursuers so intently that he did not cast his eyes ahead beyond his steps till another shout roused him, and he saw that his pursuers were calling to a party of men coming with a cart from the other direction, and who had started forward to join in the pursuit. His idea a minute before had been to wait his opportunity, leap into the wood, and hide while the men went by. Now he saw that his only course was to dash in amongst the forest trees in full sight of his pursuers, and trust to his speed or the density of the way, for his retreat was cut off, and he had no other chance. There was no time for hesitation, so, catching at a pendent bough, he swung himself up the sandy bank, but slipped and fell back, losing part of the ground he had won by his greater speed; but his next effort was more successful, and pressing in amongst the low undergrowth he forced his way along. Hilary's desires went far faster than his legs, for it was very hard work here. The low birch scrub and hazel, interspersed with sapling ash, mingled and were interlaced with the shade-loving woodland bramble, whose spiny strands wove the branches together, clung to his clothes and checked him continually. Well might they be called briars, for it was as if a hundred hands were snatching at him. But, keeping his hands well before his face, he struggled on, with the wood growing denser each moment and his pursuers close behind. "Ah, if I only had half a dozen of our lads here," he panted, "how I would turn upon these cowardly rascals! Twelve against one, and hunting him down. Never mind," he cried, making a vicious cut with his weapon at a bramble that met him breast high, "I'd rather be the hunted stag than one of a pack of miserable hounds." At another time the wild untrodden wood must have filled him with delight, so full was it of beauty. The earth was carpeted with brilliant moss, which ran over the old stumps and climbed the boles of the great forest-trees; woodland flowers were crushed beneath his feet, and the sunlight danced amongst the leaves. Every here and there a frightened rabbit rushed away, while the long forest arcades echoed with the cries of the startled birds. But Hilary was too hot and excited to notice any of the beauties around. His drenching was forgotten, and he was beginning to pant with heat, while the shouts of his pursuers made his eyes flash with rage. He was gaining somewhat, and increasing the distance between them, but not greatly; for so far the men, part of whom were those returning from the cliffs, were still pretty close, and he could hear the crashing of the boughs and twigs as they came on; but he had managed to get out of their sight, and coming now upon a more open part where the trees were bigger, he ran with all his might, dashed into another denser patch, and then feeling that to keep on running was only to grow more and more exhausted, and to make his capture a matter of time, he began to think whether he could not make his brains help his legs. There was no time to lose, for the smugglers had now entered the more open part, and were, as their shouts indicated, coming on fast. What he was to do must be done quickly. Hilary crept on cautiously, making as little noise as possible, dividing the branches tenderly so as to leave no broken twigs, and finding that the ground which he had now reached rapidly descended into a deep ravine or gully--one of the many that drain that part of the country--in a few minutes he was down between the fern-hung sandstone rocks. There was a tiny stream at the bottom, now reduced to a mere thread that joined together a few pools, but the well-washed banks high above his head showed that in rainy times it must be a rushing torrent. Here was his road, then; for he argued that this stream, even if it did not lead right to the sea, would be sure to run into one that did; and besides, as he needed not rapid travelling, but the cautious creeping that should keep him concealed from his enemies, he could not have met with a better way. Leaping down, then, from stone to stone till he reached the bottom, he dived under a number of overhanging brambles, and went slowly on. His pursuers' cries had for the moment ceased, and his spirits rose as he began to feel that they had gone upon the wrong scent; when suddenly, as he was forcing his way cautiously along, he heard a loud halloo just below him, and not fifty yards away. To his horror, as he stopped short, there came an answering shout from above, and another from higher up the gully. "Send a couple down into the river bed!" shouted the voice below. "I'll stop him here." Hilary ground his teeth, for cunning as he thought himself, it was evident that the same idea had occurred to his pursuers. What was he to do? If he climbed up the banks he was certain to be seen; if he kept on along the bed of the stream he would walk right into an enemy's arms; and the same if he worked upward. He stopped, thinking, but no fresh idea struck him; and setting his teeth and drawing a long breath, he stepped on into a more open place. "I'll make a fight for it," he said sharply, "for I don't mean to be taken back." Just then he caught sight of a hollow that had evidently been tunnelled out of the rocks by centuries of floods. There was a perfect curtain of thin stranded holly, ivy, and bramble hanging before it, and creeping cautiously forward he parted the hanging strands, passed in, and they fell back in place, almost shutting out the light of day. The hollow did not even approach the dimensions of a cave, but was the merest hollowing out of the soft sand rock; still, it was sufficient to conceal him from his pursuers, and, cutlass in hand, he crouched down, holding open one little place in the green curtain and listening for the next hint of the coming of his pursuers. A dead silence ensued, during which he could feel the heavy throb, throb of his heart and the hard labouring of his breath, for his exertions had been tremendous. But still no sound reached his ears; not a shout was heard, and he began to grow hopeful. Five minutes must have passed, and he had recovered his breath. From out of the tiny opening he had left he saw a robin flit down and perch upon a twig. Then came a blackbird to investigate the state of the commissariat department in the gully, turning busily over the leaves; and so calmly did the bird work that Hilary felt still more hopeful, for he knew that no one could be near. Vain hope! All at once the bird uttered its sharp alarm note and flew like a streak of black velvet up into the dense growth above, but still there was not a sound to be heard. Hilary's heart began to beat again, for the excitement was intense. Then there came a faint rustle, and another. Then silence again, and he felt that the men must have given up the chase. Just then there was another faint rustle, and through the screen of leaves Hilary saw the head and then the shoulders of a strongly-built man appear, whose eyes were diligently searching every inch of ground till he came nearer, and then, as his gaze lighted on the screen of leaves Hilary saw a look of intelligence come upon his stolid features, and stepping forward, he was about to drag the leafage aside, when there came a loud shout from below-- "Ahoy! this way. Here he is!" The man made a rush down the ravine, and the young officer's heart felt as if released from some tremendous pressure, for he had nerved himself for a tremendous struggle, and the danger had passed. A minute later there was a sudden outburst of voices and a roar of laughter, after which Hilary fancied he could hear Allstone shouting and angrily abusing the men. Then once more came silence, and he lay there and waited. He half expected to see the men come back, but an hour passed and there was not a sound save that of the birds in the distance; and at last, after fighting down the intense desire to be up and doing till he could master himself no longer, Hilary parted the leaves and stepped out into the gully to continue his course downwards. He stopped in a stooping position to listen, for he fancied he had heard a rustle. "Rabbit," he muttered, directly after; and as he did so a tremendous weight fell upon his back, throwing him forward upon his face, where, as he struggled round and tried to get up, it was to find that the great sturdy fellow he had before seen was sitting upon his chest. _ |
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