Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War by G. A. Henty (summer beach reads .txt) 📗

As soon as the first gleam of daylight showed itself Hector and his companion were on their feet again.

The operation of dressing was by no means a comfortable one, for the frost had set in in earnest during the night, and their clothes, with the exception of the shirts, were as stiff as boards. The snow had ceased and the sky was clear.

“It is going to be a fine day, master,” Paolo said as they left the hut.

“That is better than battling with a snowstorm such as that of yesterday evening. Come on, Paolo, let us trot for a bit. The snow is four inches deep, and we shall soon get warm running through it.”

In a quarter of an hour they broke into a walk again, panting from their exertions.

“I am as warm as a toast now, Paolo. There is a village half a mile ahead. I expect that lies on the road. The sun will be up before we get there, and no doubt we shall be able to get some hot spiced wine and some bread at a wineshop.”

This turned out to be the case. They had settled what story to tell; and when the landlord asked what brought them there so early, Paolo said that they had been on the road a couple of hours, as they were going to see an aunt who was ill at Chivasso, and their father wanted them back again that night. The explanation satisfied the host and he asked no further questions, and in ten minutes they were on their way again, greatly warmed and comforted by their meal, and after walking for another hour and a half they arrived at the bridge of Chivasso. There was a strong guard at the bridge head, for at any moment the garrison of Turin, aided by a force from Leganez's army, might endeavour to carry the town by a sudden assault. The lads passed the bridge unquestioned, entered the gate of the town, and made their way to the commandant's house.

“What do you want?” the sentry at the door asked as they came up.

The regiment was French, and Hector answered at once:

“We want to see the governor, we have important news for him.”

The soldier was greatly surprised, for he had not expected his question to be understood by these peasant boys.

“Sergeant,” he called out, “here are two peasant boys who speak French. They want to see the governor, and say that they have news of importance to give him.”

A sergeant came out.

“Sergeant,” Hector went on quietly, “you will please tell the governor that the two persons he sent out under an escort the evening before last, wish to see him.”

By the tone of assurance in which the lad spoke, rather than by his words, the sergeant saw that there was something more than appeared on the surface, and at once took up the message. He returned almost immediately. “Please to follow me,” he said, and led the way up to the governor's room.

“Welcome back again, Monsieur Campbell! You have returned sooner than I expected. You found, of course, that the difficulties were insuperable?”

“On the contrary, sir, we have been successful, and have communicated with the garrison of the citadel.”

“You have!” the governor exclaimed in astonishment. “How on earth did you manage it? I heard that the watch was so strict that it was absolutely impossible for a message to be sent through.”

“It was not very difficult after all, and we were greatly favoured by the snowstorm.” He then gave an account of how they had managed it.

“Pardieu!” he exclaimed, “that was admirably done; but I am keeping you talking while you are sitting in your wet clothes.”

“I think they are quite dry now, sir; and we have walked so fast that we are both thoroughly warm. Still, I own that I shall not be sorry to change them for my own.”

The governor rose and opened the door. “Your clothes are all hanging up in that closet. I will have some hot water sent up at once. I shall be breakfasting in half an hour, so you will have time to change comfortably.”

Hector was even more glad of a thorough wash than of a change of clothes, and went down to join the governor at breakfast, feeling greatly refreshed.

“Shall I wait on you, master?”

“No, it is not necessary, Paolo; you had better go into the kitchen at once. I have no doubt the governor has ordered them to attend to your wants as he did before.”

Four other officers had just arrived on the invitation of the governor to breakfast; one of these was the captain who had commanded the escort.

“Gentlemen,” the commandant said, “let me introduce to you Monsieur Campbell, a lieutenant on the staff of Viscount Turenne. He has just returned after having successfully carried out a most dangerous and difficult mission, namely, that of communicating with the garrison of Turin.”

The officers gave an exclamation of surprise, while Captain Simon stepped forward and shook hands warmly with Hector.

“You did not tell me exactly what you were going to do,” he said. “I thought that it was to see some of the duchess's adherents in Turin, but I never dreamt that you were going to attempt to communicate with the citadel. Had I known that, I certainly should not have expected to see you again, for from what we have heard it is next to impossible to get through the enemy's lines.”

“We will not trouble Monsieur Campbell until he has finished his breakfast,” the commandant said. “He has already told me briefly how he managed, but I shall be as glad as you will to have the details.”

Accordingly, after breakfast Hector related at much greater length the story that he had told the governor of the manner in which the mission had been carried out.

“Ma foi!” the colonel said, “I would rather have faced a battery than swum those moats in such weather. Well, gentlemen, I think that you will agree with me that Monsieur de Turenne is fortunate in having so brave and enterprising an officer on his staff.”

The officers cordially assented.

“I wonder that you did not enter the citadel and stay there till the convoy arrived.”

“In the first place, colonel, I had received no orders to do so, and the