With the British Legion: A Story of the Carlist Wars

by G. A. Henty

At daybreak the next morning he made his way to the trap-door and looked down. On the table a large jug of water and half a loaf were standing. He crawled down the ladder, took them both, and returned to his hiding-place. An hour later he heard angry talk below. He did not understand Basque, one of the most difficult languages to acquire, but he guessed that the owners were railing over the loss of the jug and bread, and doubtless putting it down to some soldier who had entered after they had gone to sleep, and stolen them. The loss could not have been a heavy one, but the old couple did not get over it all day, but continued to grumble at intervals. To him the proceeds of his theft were invaluable. He was able to keep the bandage round his ankle bathed with cold water, and he calculated that the bread would, with care, last him three days, and that the water would hold out as long.

This proved to be the case. The old man came up once during that time with a large bowl, which he filled out of a sack containing lentils; otherwise, Arthur was altogether undisturbed. At the end of that time the pain in his ankle had abated, but he could feel that it was still very weak, and that he dared not yet attempt to walk on it.

That night he went down and refilled his jug from a pail and carried off a loaf of bread from a cupboard. After possessing himself of these things, he very carefully drew back a bolt of the door. When the old couple awoke he heard them engaged in a furious quarrel. They had missed the bread, and, finding the door unbolted, the old woman had charged her husband with neglecting to fasten it, while he was stoutly maintaining that he had done so, and that she saw him do it. The quarrel lasted with more or less acerbity the whole day. Had Arthur possessed any money he would have placed a copper coin or two on the table to pay for the bread he had taken; but both pockets had been turned inside out by his captors, and he was absolutely penniless.

The loaf lasted for four days, and when it was finished he determined that, although his ankle was still very weak, he would attempt to get away. He was very reluctant to again help himself from the old people's store. It might be at least three days before he could enter the town, although he hoped to be able to accomplish it in one. Still, if his foot should give him trouble he might have to lie up in shelter. However, he contented himself with only taking half a loaf, and at eleven o'clock at night, when everything was quiet, he opened the door and went cautiously out. His object was to get down to the Urumea, which was but a mile and a half off, so, going back from the brow of the hill, to avoid falling in with any sleeping Carlists, he started.

He had gone but a short way when he felt his foot beginning to pain him badly. At first he tried hopping, but he found that the jar of each jump hurt him as much as if he were using the foot, and as he had no knife he could not cut himself a stick. He therefore sat down, and swung himself along on his hands. This was a slow method of progression, and he had to stop frequently to rest his arms and wrists. He soon gave up all idea of being able, as he had hoped, to reach the river and to swim down past the Carlist lines before morning. He kept on, however, till the dawn had begun to break. By this time he could not be more than a quarter of a mile from the river. Crawling into a thick clump of bushes he lay down, and being thoroughly tired out with his exertions he slept till mid-day. When he awoke he ate a large hunch of bread, and then waited until it became dark enough for him to make another move. As soon as night fell he set off. It took him nearly an hour to cross the quarter-mile of broken ground; but at length, to his satisfaction, the bushes ceased and he saw the river twenty yards in front of him.

He had, soon after starting from the cottage, taken the boot off his injured foot and tied it to his waist. He now took off the other and fastened it by its fellow; then he stepped into the river, and found to his satisfaction that the tide was running out. Had it not been so, he must have sat down and waited until the ebb began. After wading for some little distance, he struck out for the centre of the river; then he turned on his back and let himself drift, turning occasionally on to his breast and striking out carefully for a time, so as to get a change of position. Luckily the water was quite warm. Presently he heard the sound of talking, and perceived a glow of light on the stream. He swam across close to the other shore, and saw, as he floated down, the fires of the Carlists stretching in zigzag lines along their entrenchments, rising one above another.

He was confident that, plainly as he could see everything there, the sharpest eye could not discover him so far beyond the circle of light. Still, he did not attempt to swim until he was well beyond the fires; then in a quarter of an hour he knew that he must be within the lines of the Legion. He thought, however, that it would save trouble if he were to land abreast of the town, so he swam on until he reached the bridge that had been thrown across the river. Then he went ashore, having been about two hours in the water. The water appeared to have benefited his ankle, for he found that he could now limp along slowly. Making his way to his quarters he went quietly up to his room and opened his door. A candle was burning there, and Roper was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. He looked up as Arthur entered, and then sprang to his feet with a shout of joy.

"Thank God, you are back! Thank God! I have never quite given you up, sir, although everyone else has. Every evening when I have been off duty I have come and sat here, as I knew that when you came back it would be after dark."

"I am glad indeed to see you, Roper! I have had a very narrow squeak this time--I never want to have as narrow. I will tell you all about it presently."

"Your clothes are all wet, sir."