With Frederick the Great: A Story of the Seven Years' War by G. A. Henty (best classic romance novels txt) 📗

Nothing could have happened more fortunately. As the man was placing his supper on the table, Fergus sprang suddenly upon him, hurled him down on to his face, and then fastened his hands behind him with a rope he had made from twisted strips of one of his rugs. He was not afraid of his calling out, as the window looked outside, and it was blowing half a gale. Moreover, the sound of drums below would aid to prevent any noise being heard from the courtyard.

"I don't want to hurt you, sergeant," he said, "but I do want my liberty. I must put a bandage round your mouth, to prevent you from calling; but you know as well as I do that there would be no chance of your being heard, however loud you might shout.

"Now, in the first place I am going to see if I can get a uniform. If I cannot, I must come back and take yours."

Binding the sergeant's legs as well as his arms, and putting a muffler over his mouth, Fergus went out, leaving his own jacket and cap behind him. The key was in the door. He turned it and put it in his pocket, shot the heavy bolts, and ran downstairs. When he got to the bottom, he tried the door of the major's quarters. It was unbolted, and he felt absolutely certain that the major would be out as, with the other officers, he would have gone down to the gate to receive those of the incoming detachment.

On opening the door, he saw the articles of which he was in search--a long cloak and a regimental cap. These he at once put on. After a further search, he found a pair of military pantaloons and a patrol jacket. Throwing off the cloak, he rapidly changed his clothes. He wanted now only a regimental sword to complete the costume, but he trusted to the long cloak to hide the absence of this.

Throwing the things that he had taken off under the bed, he went out, closed the door behind him, locked it, and took the key. He had with him the short sword carried by the warder, and he relied upon this to silence the sentry, at the passage leading to the outer court, should he attempt to stop him.

This, however, was most unlikely. The night was dark, and there was no light burning; and at this hour, with fresh troops arriving and a general movement in the fortress, there could be no question of a countersign being demanded by a sentry in the interior of the place. The man, indeed, only drew himself up and saluted, as he dimly made out an officer coming from the major's quarters.

The courtyard beyond was half full of soldiers. The newcomers had just fallen out. Some were being greeted by members of the garrison who had known them before, officers were chatting together; and Fergus made his way, unnoticed in the darkness, to the gate. As he had hoped, the baggage waggons were making their way in.

A sentry was placed on each side of the gate.

"Now then," he said sharply, "hurry on with these waggons. The commandant wants the gate shut, as soon as possible;" and passing the sentry, he went on as if to hurry up the rear of the train.

Taking him for one of the officers of the newly-arrived party, the sentry stepped back at once, and he passed out.

There were six waggons still outside and, unnoticed, he passed these and went down the road. He had brought with him under his cloak the sergeant's lantern and, as soon as he was half a mile from the fortress, he took this out in order to be able to proceed the more rapidly. He had taken particular notice of the country from his prison window and, when he came down into a broad road running along the valley, he turned at once to the south.

His plans had all been carefully thought out, while in prison. He knew perfectly well that, without money, it would be altogether impossible for him to traverse the many hundred miles that lay between him and Saxony. There would be a hot pursuit when, in the morning, he was found to have gone; but it would hardly be suspected that he had taken the road for Vienna, as this would be entirely out of his way.

Happily, he was not altogether penniless. He had always carried five or six gold pieces, sewn up in the lining of his jacket with the letters with which he had been furnished by Count Eulenfurst, as a resource in case of being taken prisoner. He wished now that he had brought more, but he thought that it might prove sufficient for his first needs.

He walked all night. His candle burnt out, in two hours after starting; but at eleven the moon rose, and its light enabled him to keep the road without difficulty. As morning dawned, he approached a good-sized village some forty miles from his starting point and, waiting for an hour until he saw people stirring, Fergus went to the posting house and shouted for the postmaster. The sight of a field officer, on foot at such an hour of the morning, greatly surprised the man when he came down.

"My horse has fallen and broken its neck," Fergus said, "and I have had to walk some miles on foot. I have important despatches to carry to Vienna. Bring round a horse, without a moment's delay."

The postmaster, without the smallest hesitation, ordered his men to saddle and bring out a horse.

"It will be sent back from the next stage," Fergus said, as he mounted and rode on at full speed.

He changed horses twice, not the slightest suspicion being entertained by any of the postmasters that he was not what he seemed; and, before noon, arrived at the last post house before reaching Vienna.

"A bottle of your best wine, landlord, and I want to speak a word with you in a private room. Bring two glasses."

The wine was poured out, and after he had drank a glass Fergus said:

"Landlord, I am the bearer of important despatches, and it is imperative that I should not attract attention as I enter the city. If I were seen and recognized there, questions might be asked, and curiosity excited as to the news of which I am the bearer.

"I see that you are a sensible man, and will readily understand the situation. To avoid attracting attention, it would be best for me to enter the city in a civilian dress. You are about my size, and I beg you to furnish me with a suit of your clothes, for which I will pay at once."

"I will do that willingly, sir," the landlord answered, feeling much honoured by being let into what he deemed an important affair. "My best suit is at your service. You can send it me out from the town."

"I would rather pay for it, landlord. I may be ordered in another direction, and may not have an opportunity of returning it. If you will say how much the suit cost you, I will hand you the money."

The landlord went out, and returned in a minute with the clothes.

"Another glass of wine, landlord," Fergus said, as he handed over the amount at which the landlord valued them--"another glass of wine; and then, while I am changing, get a light trap round to the door. I shall not want to take it into Vienna, but will alight and send it back again, half a mile this side of the gates. Mind--should any inquiries be made, it were best to say as little as possible."

In another five minutes, Fergus was on his way again. He had procured from the landlord a small trunk, in which he had packed the uniform, and directed him to keep it until he heard from him; but if in the course of a week he received no orders, he was to forward it to Major Steiner, at Spielberg.

When within half a mile of Vienna, Fergus got out, gave a present to the driver and told him to return, and then walked forward to the gate, which he entered without question. He thought it better not to put up in that quarter of the town, but walked a long distance through the city, purchased a travelling coat lined with sheepskin, and a small canvas trunk in which he put it; went some distance farther and hired a room at a quiet inn, and called for dinner, of which he felt much in need, for beyond eating a few mouthfuls of bread while a fresh horse was brought out for him, he had tasted nothing since the previous evening. After dining he went to his room and took his boots off and, feeling completely worn out from his long journey, after two months of confinement, threw himself on the bed and slept for three hours.

Then he went for an hour's stroll through the town. By this time it was getting dark, snowflakes were beginning to fall thickly, and he was very glad, after sitting for a time listening to the talk in the parlour of the inn, to turn in for the night.

In the morning the ground was covered with snow. He was glad to put on his thick coat, for the cold outside was bitter.

For some hours he walked about Vienna, and the contrast between that city and Berlin struck him greatly. The whole bearing and manner of the people was brighter, and gayer. The soldiers, of whom there were great numbers in the streets--Austrians, Croats, and Hungarians--had none of the formal stiffness of the Prussians, but laughed and joked as they went, and seemed as easy and light hearted as the civilians around them. They were, for the most part, inferior in size and physique to the Prussians; but there was a springiness in their walk, and an alertness and intelligence which were wanting in the more solid soldier of the north.

He spent the day in making himself