“I dare not wait here, Karasch; we shall be caught in a trap;” and opening the door in the stable gates I looked out; but only to shut it again quickly as I caught my breath in dismay at what I saw.
Another body of troops were coming towards us at the double, and by the side of the officer in command ran a man in his shirt sleeves. It was the soldier who had escaped from us.
“We are too late,” I said, as calmly as I could speak. “There are more troops, Karasch, and that man is guiding them. We must go back to the house and try to get away from the front.”
We hurried back through the garden, and before we reached the house the newcomers were already clamouring at the stable gates.
Dashing through the house I flung open the front door.
But that way was impossible. The very orders I had given, to have the crowd massed in the front of the house, had effectually barred the chance of escape. They had been driven from the side street and were now surging and swaying in a dense mass to the right of the house, too vast a crowd for me to hope of pushing my way through them with the handful of men I had.
To go to the left meant only running into the arms of the fresh troops; certain capture.
I called Karasch and pointed to the hopelessness of the attempt.
“We can do nothing. You and the men must get away.”
“And you?” he asked.