A challenge rang out, and "Ivan's" reply was to lash the horse into a gallop. We charged through them, and they wheeled after us, and fired. I heard the "zsp" of a bullet as it ripped through the leather hood close to my ear; but in the darkness and confusion they fired wildly. And, for the present at any rate, our gallant little horse was more than a match for theirs, and was distancing them rapidly.

Another flash, and "Now!" roared "Ivan," above the roar of the thunder.

I had already sprung up, knowing that I must jump before the next flash came; and Mishka, as I found afterwards, did the same.

Steadying myself for a moment, I let myself drop, stumbled backward for a few steps, fell, and rolled into the ditch, just as the pursuers clattered past, in a whirlwind of oaths.

For the moment I, at least, had escaped; but where was Mishka?

CHAPTER XIX

NIGHT IN THE FOREST

As the sounds of flight and pursuit receded, I crawled out of the ditch, and called softly to my companion, who answered me, from the other side of the road, with a groan and an oath.

"I am hurt; it is my leg--my ankle; I cannot stand," he said despairingly.

As the lightning flared again, I saw his face for a moment, plastered with black mud, and furious with pain and chagrin. I groped my way across to him, hauled him out of the ditch, and felt his limbs to try to ascertain the extent of his injury.

It might have been worse, for there were no broken bones, as I had feared at first; but he had a badly sprained ankle.

"Bind it--hard, with your handkerchief," he said, between his set teeth.

"We must get out of this, into the wood. They will return directly."

His grit was splendid, for he never uttered a sound--though his foot must have hurt him badly--as I helped him up. Supporting him as well as I could, we stumbled into the wood, groping our way through the darkness, and thankful for every flash that gave us light, an instant at a time, and less dazzling--though more dangerous--here under the canopy of pine branches than yonder on the open road.

Even if Mishka had not been lamed, our progress must have been slow, for the undergrowth was thick; still, he managed to get along somehow, leaning on me, and dragging himself forward by grasping each slender pine trunk that he lurched up against.

He sank down at length, utterly exhausted, and, in the pause that followed, above the sound of our labored breathing and the ceaseless patter of the rain on the pines, I heard the jangle of the cavalry patrol returning along the road. Had "Ivan" eluded or outdistanced them?

Were they taking him back with them, a prisoner; or, worst of all, had they shot him?

The sounds pa.s.sed--how close we still were to the road!--and gradually died away.

"He has escaped, thanks be to G.o.d!" Mishka said, in a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"How do you know that?"

"If they had overtaken him they would have found the droshky empty, and would have sought us along the road."

"Well, what now? How far are we from the meeting-place?"

"Three versts, more or less. We should have been there by this time!

Come, let us get on. Have you the pocket lamp? We can use it now. It will help us a little, and we shall strike a track before long."

The lamp was a little flash-light torch which I had slipped into my pocket at the last moment, and showed to Mishka when I was changing my clothes. It served us well now, for the lightning flashes were less frequent; the worst of the storm was over.

I suppose we must have gone about half a verst--say the third of an English mile--when we found the track he had mentioned, a rough and narrow one, trodden out by the foresters, and my spirits rose at the sight of it. At least it must lead somewhere!

Here Mishka stumbled and fell again.

"It is useless. I can go no further, and I am only a hindrance. But you--what will you do--?"

"I'm going on; I'll find the place somehow."

"Follow the track till you come to an open s.p.a.ce,--a clearing; it is a long way ahead. Cross that to your right, and, if your lamp holds, or the storm pa.s.ses, you will see a tree blazed with five white marks, such as the foresters make. There is another track there; follow it till you are challenged; and the rest will be easy. G.o.d be with you."

We gripped hands and parted. I guessed we should not meet again in this world, though we might in the next,--and that pretty soon!

I pushed on rapidly. The track, though narrow, was good enough, and I only had to flash my torch occasionally. I was afraid of the battery giving out, which, as a fact, it did before I emerged in the clearing Mishka had mentioned. But the light was better now, for the storm had pa.s.sed; and in this northern lat.i.tude there is no real night in summer, only "the daylight sick," as Von Eckhardt would say. Out in the clearing I could see quite a distance. The air felt fresh and pleasant and the patch of sky overhead was an exquisite topaz tint. I stood to draw breath, and for a moment the sheer splendor of the night,--the solemn silence,--held me spellbound with some strange emotion in which awe and joy were mingled. Yes, joy! For although I had lost my two good comrades, and was undertaking, alone, a task which could scarcely have been accomplished by three desperate men, my heart was light. I had little hope, now, of saving Anne, as we reckon salvation in this poor earth-life; but I could, and would, die with and for her; and together, hand in hand, we would pa.s.s to the fuller, freer life beyond, where the mystery that encompa.s.sed her, and that had separated us, would vanish.

I was about to cross the clearing, keeping to the right and seeking for the blazed tree, as Mishka had told me, when I heard the faint sound of stealthy footsteps through the wet gra.s.s that grew tall and rank here in the open. In the soft light a shadowy figure came from the opposite side, pa.s.sed across the s.p.a.ce, and disappeared among the further trees, followed almost immediately by two more. The time was now, as I guessed, after midnight, and these were late comers, who had been delayed by the storm, or perhaps, like myself, had had to dodge the patrol.

I followed the last two in my turn, and at the place where they re-entered the wood I saw the gleam of the white blazes on the tree. I had struck the path right enough, and went along it confidently in the gloom of the trees, for perhaps a hundred yards, when a light flashed a few paces in front of me, just for a second, and I saw against the gleam the figures of the two men who were preceding me. They had pa.s.sed on when I reached the place, and a hand grasped my shoulder, while the light was flashed in my face. I saw now it was a dark lantern, such as policemen carry in England.

"The pa.s.sword, stranger, and the sign," a hoa.r.s.e voice whispered in the darkness that followed the momentary flash of light.

I felt for his hand, gave both word and sign, and was allowed to go on, to be challenged again in a similar manner at a little distance. Here the picket detained me.

"You are a stranger, comrade; do you know the way?" he asked. All the questions and answers had been in Russian.

"No. I will follow those in front."

He muttered something, and a second man stepped out on to the path, and bade me follow him. How many others were at hand I do not know. The wood seemed full of stealthy sounds.

My guide followed the path for only a short distance further, then turned aside, drawing me after him, his hand on my coat-sleeve.

"Be careful; the trees are thick hereabouts," he said in a low voice, as he walked sideways. He seemed to know every inch of the way. I followed his example, and after a minute or two of this crab-like progress we emerged into a second clearing, smaller than the first, made round a small building, from which came the subdued sound of voices, though for a moment I could see no light. Then a door was partially opened, emitting a faint gleam, and two men pa.s.sed in,--doubtless those whom I had seen in front of me just now.

Without a word my guide turned back into the darkness, and I walked forward boldly, pushed the door, which gave under my touch, and entered the place.

CHAPTER XX

THE TRIBUNAL

It was a small, ruinous chapel, the windows of which had been roughly boarded up; and, so far as I could see by the dim light cast by two oil lanterns hung on the walls, all those a.s.sembled inside were men,--about fifty in number I guessed, for the place was by no means crowded. There was a clear s.p.a.ce at the further end, round the raised piece where the altar had once stood, and where four men were seated on a bench of some sort. I could not distinguish their faces, for they all wore their hats, and the lamplight was so dim that it only served to make the darkness visible. The atmosphere was steamy, too, for we were a drenched and draggled lot.

There was no excitement at present; one of the four men on the dais was speaking in a level monotonous voice; but, as I cautiously edged my way towards the front, I felt that this silent, sinister crowd was in deadly earnest, as was the man who was addressing it. He was speaking in Russian, and I could not make out quite all he said.

I gathered that some resolution was about to be pa.s.sed, for just as I got sufficiently forward to peer round and convince myself that Anne was not there, each man present, except myself and two others, held up his right hand. I followed suit instantly, judging that to be wisest, and one of the other two--he was standing close beside me--put his up, after a momentary hesitation that I think was unnoticed save by myself. I took a sidelong glance at him. He was an elderly, distinguished looking man, with a short gray beard cut to a point, and an upturned gray mustache.

He was listening intently, but, though I couldn't see his face distinctly, I got the impression that he also was a stranger, and that he understood even less than I did what was going on.