CHAPTER XVII
GILBERT MEETS AMOS BARTLETT
Despite the fighting which he had done during the past few days, Gilbert had not forgotten about Mr. Amos Bartlett; and as soon as he found time he started out to learn, if possible, what had become of the tea-merchant.
It was with difficulty that he found the street upon which was located Amos Bartlett’s house and likewise the place where the merchant did business. It was usually a busy quarter, but now it was all but deserted.
The streets were filled with rubbish and filth, and household effects were scattered everywhere. More than one house or store showed signs of the bombardment, in the way of great holes or falling walls; and at certain points the very roadway was ploughed up.
At last the young lieutenant stood before Amos Bartlett’s warehouse, a low, rambling affair of wood. It seemed to be locked up; and he was about to go on to the house beyond, when a cry in an English voice arrested him.
“Let those goods alone! They belong to me, and you shall not touch them!”
The voice was high-pitched and trembling, as if that of an elderly man, and appeared to come from the rear of the warehouse. Curious to know what was going on, Gilbert hurried to the rear, and here found an elderly American gentleman and three Russian soldiers. The Russian soldiers were trying to walk off with a big box of tea, and the elderly man was endeavoring to stop them. The foreigners were talking in their native tongue, and of course Gilbert could not understand a word of what was said.
“What’s the trouble?” asked the young lieutenant. The brutal looks on the faces of the three Russians did not please him.
“They wish to rob me of my tea, and I refuse to let them have it,” answered the elderly gentleman; and then, glancing at Gilbert’s uniform, he added, “Are you an American officer?”
“I am.”