Chapter 20. Crossing The Lines

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_ Ralph was destined to a longer stay upon his hay bed in the loft than he had anticipated. The next day, instead of being better he was a good deal worse. Inflammation had again set in, and he was feverish and incoherent in his talk. He was conscious of this, himself, by seeing the dismay in the face of the nurse, when he had been rambling on to her for some time, in English.

At last, with an effort, he commanded his attention, and said to her:

"How far is it from here to Orleans?"

"Seventeen miles," she said.

"Look here," he said, "you are very kind, and I know that you do not want to be paid for your kindness; but I am well off, and I know you have lost your horse and cow, and so you must let me pay you for what you do for me.

"I am afraid I am going to have fever. I want your husband to go into Orleans. The Prussians went in yesterday, you say; and so your husband will not have to cross any outposts to get there. There is an English ambulance there. I will write a line in pencil; and I am sure they will give him some fever medicine, and anything else I may require. Please feel in the breast pocket of my coat; you will find a pocket book, with a pencil in it."

The woman did as he told her; and Ralph, with a great effort, wrote:

"I am an Englishman, though a captain in the French service. I am wounded with a saber, in the head; and am sheltered in a loft. Inflammation has set in and, I fear, fever. I am obliged, indeed, to make a great effort to master it sufficiently to write this. Please send some fever medicine, by the bearer, and some arrowroot. A lemon or two would be a great blessing.

"Ralph Barclay."

He then tore out the leaf, folded, and directed it to the head of the English ambulance, Orleans.

"How is he to know the English ambulance?"

"It has a red cross on a white ground, as all the others have; and an English flag--that is, a flag with red and white stripes going from corner to corner, and crossing each other in the middle. But anyone will tell him."

"I am sure he will set out at once," the woman said, and left the loft.

In ten minutes she returned.

"He has started," she said, "but not to Orleans. My husband, directly I gave him the message, said that he had heard that there was an English ambulance at Terminiers, attending to the wounded picked up on the battlefield. It is only five miles from here."

"Thank God for that," Ralph said.

Three hours later the farmer returned, with a bottle of medicine, some arrowroot, lemons, a bottle of wine, some Liebig's essence of meat--for making broth--and a message that the English surgeon would ride over, as soon as he could get away. The farmer had given him detailed instructions for finding the house; but was afraid of stopping to act as his guide as, had he been seen walking by the side of the surgeon's horse, the suspicions of any German they might encounter would be at once excited.

The surgeon arrived an hour later, and was at once taken to Ralph's bedside. Ralph, however, could not speak to, or even recognize the presence of his countryman; for he was in a high state of fever. The surgeon examined his wound carefully.

"I think he will get over it," he said, to the farmer's wife. "It is a nasty cut; but there is nothing dangerous in the wound, itself. It is the general shock to the system, together with the hardships and suffering he had gone through. He is a mere boy--not above seventeen or eighteen. He says in his note he is a captain, but it can hardly be so."

"He is a captain, sir. There is his uniform hanging up."

"Yes," the surgeon said, "that is the uniform of a captain in the staff, and he has got the commander's button of the legion of honor. I wonder who he can be.

"Ralph Barclay," he said thoughtfully, looking at the pencil note Ralph had sent him. "Ah, now I remember the name. I thought it was familiar to me. This is the young Englishman who made his way through the lines into Paris, with dispatches He is a fine young fellow. We must do what we can for him."

"Could you take him into your hospital, sir?" the woman asked.

"He will be better where he is, if you will continue to nurse him."

"Yes, I will do that; but I thought he would be so much better looked after, in the hospital."

"No," the surgeon said, "that is just what he would not be. Every room is literally crowded with wounded; and wounds do infinitely better in fresh, pure air, like this, than in a room with a close atmosphere, and other bad wounds.

"The fever medicine I sent over will last him for some days. I have brought over a tin of little biscuits. Give him the fever medicine, every two hours, until there is a change; and whenever you can get him to take it, give him a little broth made of a spoonful of the essence of meat in a liter of boiling water or, for a change, some arrowroot. I will show you how to make it, when we get back to the house.

"Can you manage to stay with him? He will want a good deal of looking after, for the next two days."

"Yes, sir, I was talking to Jacques about it, today. He will go over to the next village--it is only a mile away--and will fetch my sister, who lives there, to keep house for a bit."

"That is capital," the surgeon said. "And now, watch attentively how I put this bandage on; and do it the same way, once a day. When you have put the bandage on, you must put wet cloths to his head, as long as he remains delirious. I am awfully busy; but I will ride over again, in three or four days, to see how he is getting on.

"By the way, it may be an advantage to you if I give you a paper, signed by me, to say that you are taking care of a wounded French officer at my request as--although you wished to send him to the ambulance--I refused because, in the first place, he could not bear moving; and in the second, the ambulance was as full as it could possibly hold. That will clear you, in case any German parties come along and find him."

It was a week before Ralph opened his eyes with any consciousness of what he saw. He looked round, with a vague wonderment as to where he was. In a minute or two, a look of recognition came into his face. Looking round, he saw that there were changes. A small piece had been sawn out of the shutter, so as to let in air and light while it remained closed. A table and a chair were beside his bed. In a corner of the loft was a small flat stove, with a few embers glowing upon it, and a saucepan standing upon them. Upon the opposite side of the loft to that where he was lying was a heap of hay, similar to his own; with a figure, rolled up in a blanket, lying on it.

For some time, Ralph thought all this over in the vague, wondering way peculiar to people recovering from a long illness. Most, he puzzled over the occupant of the other bed; and at last concluded that it was some fugitive, like himself. For some time he lay and watched the figure until, presently, it moved, threw off the blanket and rose and, to his surprise, he saw that it was his nurse.

"Thanks to all the saints!" she exclaimed, when she saw him looking at her. "You are better, at last. I think that I was asleep, too. But you were sleeping so quiet, that I thought I would take a nap; for I was so sleepy."

"How long have I been here?" Ralph asked.

"Just a week, from the time the fever took you. The English doctor came over and saw you, and sent lots of things for you, and said you were not to be left; so I had the bed made up here, and my sister came over to take care of Jacques. And now, you must not talk any more. Drink this broth, and then go off to sleep again."

Ralph complied. He was too tired and weak to ask any more questions, and it was not until next day that he heard of the obstinate battles which General Chanzy had fought--on the 7th, 8th, and 10th--near Beauguency.

"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 constituted 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 shift for themselves--or starve--as they liked. Ralph joined in conversation with a group of these, who were relating their hardships 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 passes 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.

"God 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.

After some difficulty, Ralph got a bed; and was at the agreed place at the appointed time. The old man went up to the Prussian sergeant in command, and told the tale Ralph had dictated to him. The sergeant agreed to the arrangement, with a brief nod. The old man handed Ralph his whip, and returned him the fur coat; which Ralph was glad enough to put on, for the morning was bitterly cold, and Ralph--enfeebled by his illness--felt it keenly. In another five minutes, the carts were in motion across the bridge, and then away due south.

For half an hour Ralph walked by the side of his cart and--being, by that time, thoroughly warm--he jumped up in the cart and rode, during the rest of the day; getting down and walking--for a short time only--when he found his feet getting numbed with the cold.

In the afternoon they arrived at La Ferte, some fifteen miles from Orleans. There they remained for the night. There were not very many troops here, and Ralph could have obtained a bed by paying well for it; but he feared to attract attention by the possession of unusual funds and, therefore, slept in a hay loft; afraid, in spite of his fur coat, to sleep in the open air.

The next morning the train was divided, twenty of the carts going down towards Romorantin; while the rest--now fifteen in number--kept on towards Salbris. Ralph's cart formed part of this latter division. The night after they left La Ferte, they halted at La Motte Beuvron, where there was a strong force of Germans. The following day only four carts continued their route to Salbris, Ralph happening again to be among them. He had regretted two days before that he had not formed part of the division for Romorantin, as from that place he would have been less than twenty miles from Tours, which the Prussians had not yet entered; but as he had the good fortune to go on to Salbris, he did not mind--as Salbris, like Romorantin, was one of the most advanced stations.

They arrived late in the afternoon, and the carts were at once unloaded. The sergeant in charge told them to wait, while he got their papers for them; and in ten minutes he returned.

"You will have tomorrow to rest your horses, and the next day a train will start for the north. Your work is over now, as there is nothing to go back. Here are the passes for you, saying that you have carried goods down here for the army; and are therefore to return back, without your carts being further requisitioned."

Ralph put up his horse and cart for an hour in the village, while he went to search for some farm house upon which no Prussian soldiers were quartered. He was unable, for some time, to find one; but at last, over a mile from the town, he found a small place which had escaped the attention of the Prussian quartermaster, and where there was a small, unoccupied stable. Ralph soon struck a bargain with its owner; returned to Salbris, mounted his cart, drove out; and was soon settled in the little farm house.

He anticipated no great difficulty in passing out through the outposts; as there was no French force of any importance, near, and the German troops interfered but little with the movements of the country people. The affair, however, turned out more easy than he had anticipated for, towards morning, he was awoke by the distant sound of bugles.

"Something is up," he said to himself; "either a French attack, a general advance, or a recall. If it should be the latter, I am in luck."

It turned out to be as Ralph hoped. The peasant in whose house he was stopping went into Salbris, early; and came back with the news that there was no longer a German there. Orders had come for them to fall back, towards Orleans.

"I am not at all surprised," Ralph said, when he heard it, "for Orleans was emptying fast of troops. This sudden march of Bourbaki for the east, and the necessity to reinforce Frederick Charles, near Vendome must try even Prussian resources to the utmost."

Half an hour later, Ralph was jogging along on his way to Vierzon. There he found that the railway was open to Bourges, from which town he should have no difficulty in getting on to Dijon. He soon found a purchaser for his horse and cart, at ten pounds, and the next morning started on his way home. _

Read next: Chapter 21. Home

Read previous: Chapter 19. Down At Last

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