Through Russian Snows (43 page)

"We are glad, indeed, to make the acquaintance of the brother of our
dear friend," the countess said, holding out her hand to Frank.

JULIAN INTRODUCES STEPHANIE TO HIS BROTHER FRANK.

"I regret, countess, that I am not able to reply to you in French,"
Frank said in Russian. "I had thought that Russian would be absolutely
necessary here, but I find that almost everyone speaks French. Had I
known that, I could have saved myself a good deal of labour, for to us
your language is very difficult to acquire."

"You speak it extremely well, Mr. Wyatt," the count said. "I can
scarcely imagine how you have acquired such familiarity with it in your
own country."

"I learned it from a Russian Pole, a political exile, with whom I worked
for about six hours a day for nearly twelve months, in order that I
might qualify myself to accompany Sir Robert Wilson."

"This is my little friend Stephanie, Frank," Julian said, lifting the
child up on his shoulder, her favourite place.

"And this is my Nurse Julian," the child said with a laugh. "Isn't he a
big nurse?"

"He is big," Frank agreed, looking up at him. "I feel quite small beside
him. He was always a great deal taller than I was, and he has grown a
good bit since I saw him last. But he looks rather big for a nurse."

"He is not too big at all," Stephanie said earnestly. "He could never
have carried me so far if he had not been very big and strong. Could he,
papa?"

"No, Stephanie; though I think goodness of heart had as much to do with
it as strength of body. Your brother has, of course, told you, Mr.
Wyatt, how deep an obligation he has laid us under."

"He said that he had had the good fortune to find your little girl, and
that he took her along with him in the retreat; but he seemed to
consider that the service she did him when they fell among the Russian
peasants quite settled matters between them. Doubtless, they mutually
saved each other's lives."

"Mr. Wyatt," the count said gravely, "the one act was momentary and
without risk. The other was done at the cost of labour and sacrifice
daily and hourly for nearly a month. You have been through the campaign,
and know how frightful were the sufferings, how overwhelming the
exhaustion of the soldiers. You can judge, then, how terrible was the
addition to a soldier's labours to have to carry a child like that for
so long, when his own strength was hourly weakening, and when every
additional pound of weight told heavily upon him. The tears come into
the eyes of the countess and myself every time we think of it. It was an
act of self-devotion beyond words; altogether beyond the understanding
of those who know not how terrible were the sufferings endured on the
march."

"They were indeed terrible, Count," Frank said gravely. "It was agony
for me to witness them, and I cannot but share your wonder how my
brother supported the extra weight, even of your little daughter, and
came through it safely, while tens of thousands of men not so burdened
fell and died along the road."

Julian did not understand what was being said, but he guessed by their
faces what they were speaking of.

"I suppose you are saying that it was hard work carrying the child," he
broke in in English; "but I can tell you that I believe it aided me to
get through. It gave me something to think of besides the snow, the
distance, and the Russians. She was always cheerful and bright, and her
merry talk lightened the way, but in addition to that the warmth of her
body against my back by day and curled up in my arms at night, greatly
helped to keep life in me. I think that it was largely due to her that I
got through safely where many men as strong as myself died."

The count looked inquiringly at Frank, who translated what Julian had
said. He smiled, "Your brother is determined to try to make out that
the obligation is all on his side, but it will not do. There is the
simple fact that we have our little daughter again, safe and sound. If
it had not been for him she would have been lost to us for ever."

Julian went down to the door with Frank. "Of course you will tell the
general all about it, Frank. I suppose he knows something of the
circumstances under which I went away, as he was a friend of our
father's, and got you your commission, and takes such an interest in
you. I daresay he will be shocked to hear that I have been carrying a
French musket, but I am not ashamed of it myself, and consider that
under the circumstances I was perfectly justified in doing so. Come
round in the morning the first thing after breakfast. I have yet to
learn all about how you found out that Markham committed that murder,
and then you can tell me, too, what the general says."

On going upstairs Julian told his hosts that he had been completely
cleared of the charge that had hung over him and darkened his life, and
that there was nothing to prevent him from returning to England. They
expressed much gratification at the news, but at the same time said that
for themselves they could not but regret that this would prevent their
having the pleasure they had looked forward to of having him settled
near them.

"This, however, we must talk about again," the count said. "At any rate,
I hope that you will from time to time come over to stay for a while
with us and Stephanie."

"That I will assuredly do, Count," Julian said warmly. "I do not quite
know at present what I shall do. As I have told you, I shall, in
addition to my share of my father's money, inherit some from my aunt,
and shall be able, if I choose, to buy a small estate and settle down. I
am too old to go into our army now, but, besides, I think that ere long
this European struggle will be over, and in that case there will be
nothing for a soldier to do. Still in any case I shall be able
occasionally to make a voyage here; and I can assure you that it will be
one of my greatest pleasures to do so."

Sir Robert Wilson was greatly surprised when he heard from Frank of his
meeting with his brother, and of the adventures through which he had
passed.

"I do not blame him in any way," he said. "Had he been a king's soldier
or sailor the matter would have been altogether different. To have
entered a foreign army then would have been a breach of his oaths. But
as a private individual he was free to take service abroad, as tens of
thousands of English, Scotch, and Irish have done before him. It would,
of course, have been much better had he entered the army of a power
friendly to England, but the document that he received on enlisting goes
far to absolve him from any responsibility in the matter. At any rate,
he was not a deserter, and seeing that he could not go back to England
even if he escaped, that he was practically friendless in the world, and
that, had he not acted as he did he might have died at Verdun, I do not
think that even a severe moralist would be able to find any fault with
his decision. So he was one of Ney's heroes! Well, Frank, when this war
is over, and the bitterness between the two nations has passed away, he
will have good cause to feel proud of having been one of that
unconquerable band. No troops have ever gained greater glory by victory
than they have by retreat; besides to have won his stripes in such
company, and to have received the Legion of Honour from Ney, is as high
an honour as any soldier could wish for. At the same time, I think that
he and his friends have done wisely in keeping silence as to the part he
played—it might have led to all sorts of trouble. Had it been known, he
might have been claimed as a prisoner of war; and even if this had not
been done, he might have been embroiled in quarrels with hot-headed
young Russians; and it is scarcely probable, Frank, that he is such a
dead shot with the pistol as you are."

The next morning Julian heard from Frank full details of the manner in
which the truth had been arrived at of the circumstances of Mr.
Faulkner's murder.

"By Jove! Frank," he exclaimed, when his brother brought the story to a
conclusion; "you ought to have been a Bow Street runner. I can't think
how it all occurred to you. Thinking it over, as I have done hundreds of
times, it never once occurred to me that the footprints in the snow
might prove that I had set off in pursuit of Markham, and that they
would have shown that he was standing behind that tree whence the shot
was fired, while I went straight from the road to the place where
Faulkner was lying. What a head you have, old fellow!"

"It was simple enough, Julian. I was certain that you had not committed
the murder, and it was therefore clear that someone else must have done
so. Then came the question, first, how Faulkner had come to charge you
as he had done, and, second, how and why you had disappeared. The only
conceivable explanation that I could find was that you must have run
into the wood, caught sight of the murderer, and followed him up.
Directly we found your footprints on the snow overlapping his it made
that a certainty. We had only then to go into the wood and pick up the
whole story bit by bit. For a time I certainly thought that you had been
killed by the friends of the man that you had followed, and you may
imagine what a relief it was to us when your letter came.

"And now, old fellow, I suppose you will be going home? Sir Robert has
told me that he will be willing to give me leave at once, and that he
considers I ought to have a thorough rest, to get the seeds of that
horrible hospital fever out of my blood. Therefore, I am ready to start
with you whenever you are ready to go. He does not know yet whether he
will continue as commissioner here when the campaign recommences in the
spring; but there is little doubt that he will do so, and in that case I
shall rejoin as soon as the weather breaks sufficiently for operations
to commence. I got my lieutenantcy three months ago owing to the
vacancies made in the regiment during the campaign in Spain; and Sir
Robert has been good enough to speak so strongly of my services here
that I have every chance of getting another step before I return."

"I see no reason why I should not start at the end of the week, Frank.
Of course, I am extremely comfortable here; but now that I know I can go
back all right I am longing to be home again. Indeed I should soon get
tired of having nothing to do but to drive about and eat dinners here;
and besides, I cannot but feel that I am in a false position, and am
very anxious to get out of it."

Frank nodded. "I quite understand that, old fellow, and I agree with you
thoroughly. A question might be asked any day that you could not reply
to without saying how you came to be here; and for the sake of the count
as well as yourself, that should be avoided if possible."

The count was loud in his expressions of regret when he heard that
Julian was about to leave with his brother at once; but when Julian
urged that he was constantly in fear that some chance question might be
asked, and that the falseness of his position weighed heavily upon him,
the count could not but admit the justice of the view he took.
Preparations were immediately begun for departure. They were to travel
by sledge through Finland, passing through Vibourg to Abo, and there to
cross the Gulf of Bothnia to the Swedish coast, a few miles north of
Stockholm, and to travel across the country to Gothenburg. The count
placed one of his travelling carriages on runners at their disposal as
far as Abo, and insisted on sending one of his own servants with them to
attend to their wants on the road.

Stephanie was inconsolable at the approaching departure of her friend,
and even the promise that he would return and pay them another visit
before very long, scarcely pacified her. In three days all was ready.
The luggage, packed in a light waggon, had been sent off in charge of
one of the count's servants forty-eight hours before; and the travelling
carriage had but to take three or four great hampers stored with
provisions and wines. The count and countess had had on the previous day
a long talk with Frank, who at their request called at an hour when
Julian would be out paying a long round of farewell visits. The
conversation was a serious one, and had ended by the count saying:

"You see, Mr. Wyatt, nothing will alter the determination of the
countess and myself in this matter; and if you had not consented to
accept our commission and to carry out our wishes, we should have had no
course open but to communicate with our embassy in London, and to
request them to appoint someone to act as our agent in the matter. This
would not have been so satisfactory, for the agent would of course have
been ignorant of your brother's tastes and wishes; whereas you will be
able to learn from him exactly the position that would be most
agreeable. All we ask is that you will not go below the minimum we have
named, and the more you exceed it the better we shall be pleased. You
know well how we feel in the matter, and that anything that can be done
in this way will still fall very far short of the measure of gratitude
we feel towards your brother."