Through Russian Snows (42 page)

"Jump in here, Frank," he said, leading the way to the sledge. "They
must all think that we have gone mad, and we shall have a crowd round us
in a minute."

Still completely bewildered, Frank followed his brother.

"Drive out into the country," Julian said to the coachman as he took his
seat. "This is little short of a miracle, old fellow," he said, as they
drove off. "I thought you were living quietly at Weymouth; you thought I
was rotting in a French prison, and here we run against each other in
the heart of Russia."

"I can hardly believe even yet that it is you, Julian, you have altered
so tremendously. Thank God, old man, that I have found you."

"Thank God, my dear Frank, that, as I see, that stupid business of mine
has not prevented your entering the army, as I was afraid it would do;
though how you come to be here is more than I can guess."

"I am General Wilson's aide-de-camp, and have been with him all through
the war; and you, Julian, what on earth are you doing here? But first of
all, I suppose you have not heard that you have been cleared completely
of that charge of murder."

Julian's face paled at the sudden news, and he sat for a minute or two
in silence.

"Quite cleared, Frank?" he asked in a low tone; "cleared so that no
doubt remains, and that I can go home without fear of having it thrown
into my face?"

"Completely and entirely," Frank replied. "You were cleared before you
had been gone a day. The coroner's jury brought in an open verdict, but
a warrant was issued against that poacher Markham; and your letter
first, and his confession a year later, completely bore out the evidence
at the inquest, and established his guilt beyond question."

"To think that I should never have known it," Julian said. "If I had
dreamt of it I would have attempted to break out from Verdun, and make
my way home. I don't know that I should have succeeded, but at any rate
I should have tried. But tell me all about it, Frank; my story will keep
just at present."

"You seem to have fallen on your legs, anyhow," Frank remarked. "May I
ask if this is your Imperial Highness's sledge. I have learned something
of the value of furs since I came out here, and that coat of yours is
certainly worth a hundred pounds, and this sable rug as much more."

"It is not my sledge, nor is it my rug, though I have two or three of
them quite as handsome. The coat is my own, the sledge belongs to my
intimate friend Count Woronski, with whom I am at present staying."

"You really must tell me your story first," Frank said, laughing. "Now
that you know you are cleared, you can very well wait to hear all the
details, and I refuse to say a word until you have told me what all this
means."

"Well, Frank," Julian said seriously, "mine is not altogether a pleasant
story to tell now; but I acted for the best, and under the belief that
there was no chance of my being able to return for years to England. The
story is too long for me to give you the details now, but I will give
you the broad facts. I was sent prisoner to Verdun. I was there about
ten months. There was fever in the place, and we died off like sheep.
There seemed no possibility of escape, and if I could have got away I
could not, as I thought, make for England. I was getting hopeless and
desperate, and I don't think I could have held out much longer. Then
there was an offer made to us that any of us who liked could obtain
freedom by enlisting in the French army. It was expressly stated that it
was going east, and that at the end of the campaign we should,—if our
corps was ordered to a place where it was likely to come in contact with
the English,—be allowed to exchange into a regiment with another
destination.

"Well, it seemed to me that it mattered very little what became of me.
Even should I be exchanged and sent to England I could not have stayed
there, but must have gone abroad to make my living as best I could, and
I thought I might as well go as a soldier to Russia as anywhere else; so
I accepted the offer, little knowing what would come of it. I regretted
it heartily when I saw the misery that was inflicted by the misconduct,
partly of the French, but much more of the Poles and Germans, on the
unfortunate inhabitants. However, there I was, and I did my duty to the
best of my power. When I tell you that I was in Ney's division, you may
imagine that I had my share of it all."

"Extraordinary!" Frank said, "to think that you and I should both have
been through this campaign, and on opposite sides. Why, we must have
been within musket shot of each other a score of times."

"I have no doubt I saw you," Julian said; "for I often made out a bit
of scarlet among the dark masses of the Russians, and thought that there
must be some English officers with them. The first time I noticed them
was on the heights opposite to Smolensk. Two officers in scarlet were
with the batteries they planted there and drove our own off the hill on
our side of the river."

"Those were the general and myself, Julian. We had only joined two days
before. But still, I am as much in the dark as ever. What you have said
explains how you come to be in Russia, but it does not at all explain
how you came to be here like this."

"It was on the day after we got past the Russians. It was a strong place
with a hard name—Jaro something or other. The next day, as we were
marching along, we came across an overturned carriage. A coachman and a
woman were lying dead. On nearing it, I heard a little cry, and I
stepped out from the side of my company—I was a sergeant and was
marching on the flank—and I found among the cushions a little girl,
about six years old, who was already almost frozen to death. I fastened
her on to my back under my cloak, and carried her along with me. She
came round, and was a dear little creature. Well, I carried her all
through the retreat. Sometimes, when there was an alarm, I had time to
stow her away in one of the waggons; when there was not, she went on my
back into the middle of the fighting, and you know that was pretty rough
occasionally. However, we both of us seemed to possess a charm against
balls. We got on all right until the day before we were to arrive at the
Berezina. Then I went out foraging with some companions; they got into a
hut, lit a fire, and would not leave, so I started alone with her.

"I lost my way, and was found by a lot of peasants, who would have made
very short work of me, but the child stepped forward like a little queen
and told them that she was the Countess of Woronski, and that her
father was a friend of the Czar's, and that if they sent us to him they
would get a great reward. Thinking that it was good enough, they took us
to their village and dressed me up in peasant's clothes, and kept us
there a fortnight. Then the head man and the village Papa came with us
here by post. The child's father and mother had given her up as dead,
and their gratitude to me is boundless. It has been deemed unadvisable
to say anything about my ever being with the French, and I am simply
introduced by the count as an English gentleman whom he regards as his
very dear friend. I sent letters home to you and Aunt a fortnight since,
and if I had heard that the charge of murder was still hanging over me I
should probably have remained here for good. The count has already
hinted that there is an estate at my disposal. He is as rich as
Crœsus, and he and the countess would be terribly hurt if I were to
refuse to accept their tokens of gratitude. They have no other child but
Stephanie, and she is, of course, the apple of their eye."

"Well, you have had luck, Julian. I did think that if you once got out
of prison you would be likely to fall upon your feet, because you always
had the knack of making yourself at home anywhere; but I had no idea of
anything like this. Well, I don't think you are to blame for having
entered the French service rather than remaining a prisoner, especially
as you were, as far as you knew, cut off from returning home. Still, I
agree with you that it is as well not to talk about it at present. It is
marvellous to think that you were with Ney through all that fighting.
The doings of the rear-guard were, I can assure you, the subject of the
warmest admiration on the part of the Russians. Sir Robert Wilson
considers that the retreat from Smolensk was one of the most
extraordinary military exploits ever performed. And so you were made a
sergeant after Borodino? Well, Julian, to win your stripes among such a
body as Ney led is no slight honour."

"I received another, Frank; not so much for valour as for taking things
easy." He took from his pocket the cross of the Legion of Honour. "This,
Frank, is an honour Napoleon sent to me, and Ney pinned on my breast. I
would rather that it had been Wellington who sent it, and say Picton who
pinned it on; but it is a big honour none the less, and at any rate it
was not won in fighting against my own countrymen. This document it is
wrapped up in, is the official guarantee that I received on enlisting,
that I should under no circumstances whatever be called upon to serve
against the English."

"You have a right to be proud of the cross, Julian. I should be proud of
it myself, British officer as I am. But how do you say that you got it
for taking things easy?"

"It was not exactly for taking things easy, but for keeping up the men's
spirits. Discipline was getting terribly relaxed, and they were losing
their military bearing altogether. A lot of us non-commissioned officers
were talking round a fire, and I suggested that we should start marching
songs again as we used to do on our way through Germany. It would cheer
the men up, get them to march in military order and time, and shorten
the road. Ney and some of his staff happened to be within hearing, and
he praised the idea much more than it deserved. However, the men took it
up, and the effect was excellent. Other regiments followed our example,
and there can be no doubt that, for a time, it did have a good effect.
Ney reported the business to Napoleon, who issued an order praising the
Grenadiers of the Rhone for the example they had set the army, bestowing
the Legion of Honour on me, and ordering that henceforth marching songs
should be sung throughout the army. However, singing was dropped at
Smolensk. After leaving there we were reduced to such a handful that we
had not the heart to sing, but it did its work, for I believe that the
improvement effected by the singing in the
morale
of Ney's troops had
at least something to do with our being able to keep together, and to
lessen the fatigues of those terrible marches.

"Now tell me more about yourself. How was it that you had the wonderful
luck to be chosen to accompany Sir Robert Wilson as his aide-de-camp?"

"It was to his suggestion when I first joined, Julian, and to nearly a
year's steady work on my part. He got me gazetted into his old regiment,
the 15th Light Dragoons, and at the same time told me that if, as was
already anticipated, Russia broke off her alliance with Napoleon, he was
likely to be offered his former position of British commissioner at the
Russian headquarters. He said that if by the time that came off I had
got up Russian, he would apply for me to go with him, so I got hold of a
Russian Pole in London, a political exile, a gentleman and an awfully
good fellow. I took him with me down to Canterbury, where our depôt was,
and worked five or six hours a day with him steadily, so that when, at
the outbreak of war, Sir Robert got his appointment he was able to apply
for me upon the ground, that I had a thoroughly good colloquial
knowledge of Russian."

"You always were a beggar to work, Frank," his brother said admiringly.
"I worked for a bit myself pretty hard at Verdun, and got up French well
enough to pass with, but then you see there was no other mortal thing to
do, and I knew that it would be useful to me if ever I saw a chance of
escape. Of course, at that time I had no idea of enlisting: but it must
have been a different thing altogether for a young officer to give up
every amusement, as you must have done, and to slave away at a crack-jaw
language like Russian."

"It required a little self-denial I have no doubt, Julian, but the work
itself soon became pleasant. You may remember in the old days you used
to say that I could say 'No,' while you could not."

"That is true enough, Frank. I was a great ass in those days, but I
think that now I have learnt something."

"I should think you have, Julian," Frank said, looking closely at his
brother. "The expression of your face has very much changed, and you
certainly look as if you could say 'No' very decidedly now."

By this time they had, after a long drive, re-entered the city.

"You must come home with me first, Frank. I must introduce you to the
count and countess, and to Stephanie. Then to-morrow morning you must
come round early. I have heard nothing yet as to how the truth about
that murder came out so rapidly. It seemed to me that the evidence was
conclusive against me, and that even the letter that I wrote telling you
about it, was so improbable that no one but you and Aunt would credit,
in the slightest."

"It did look ugly at first, Julian. When I heard Faulkner's deposition I
could see no way out of it whatever. I could not suppose that a dying
man would lie, and, absolutely sure of your innocence as I was, could
make neither head nor tail of the matter. Is this the mansion? You
certainly have fallen on good quarters."

Leaving their fur coats in the hall they went upstairs. They found the
countess seated in an arm-chair. The count was reading the last gazette
from the army to her, and Stephanie was playing with a doll. The count
and his wife looked surprised as Julian entered with a young English
officer.

"I have the honour, countess," Julian said, "to present to you my
brother, who is aide-de-camp to the English General, Sir Robert Wilson,
whom he accompanied throughout the campaign. Count, you will, I am sure,
rejoice with me, in this unexpected meeting."