[CHAPTER XXXIII.-THE FLAG OF TRUCE.]
In the rifle-pits many of our men lay dead or dying, and a few paces beyond them brought me among Russians in the same pitiable condition. One, who had been shot through the chest, lay on his back, half in and half out of his lurking hole; his eyes were glazing, bubbles of blood and froth were oozing through his thick black moustaches, which were matted by the cartridges he had bitten. Another was shot through the lungs, and his breath seemed to come with a wheezing sound through the orifice.
There, too, lay the luckless Russian "potted" by Hugh Price. He was one of the imperial 26th, for that number was on his shoulder-straps. On his breast were several copper medals. Others who were able, taking advantage of the cessation of hostilities, were crawling away on their hands or knees towards the town or trenches, in search of water, of succour, and of some kind friend to bind their wounds; and encouraged by the lull in the firing, the little birds were twittering about those ghastly pits in search of biscuit-crumbs or other food.
The ground was studded thickly with rusty fragments of exploded shells, nails, bottles, grape and canister shot; other places were furrowed up, or almost paved with half-buried cannon-balls of every calibre; and here and there, in the crater made by a mine, lay a forgotten corpse in sodden uniform, gray faced with red; and yet singularly enough, amid these horrors, there were springing through the fertile earth many aromatic shrubs, and a vast number of the colchicum autumnale, a beautiful blue crocus-like flower, with which the Crimea abounds.
The Russian drum, hoarse, wooden, and ill-braced, again sounded, and mine replied; then we saw an officer coming towards us from the entanglements of the abattis, with his sword sheathed and waving a white handkerchief. He was a tall grim-looking man, of what rank I could not determine, as all the enemy's officers in the field, from the general down to the last-joined praperchick, or ensign, wore long, ungraceful greatcoats of brownish gray cloth, having simply facings and shoulder-straps. He carried a wooden canteen and an old battered telescope, worn crosswise by two leather straps, and had several silver medals, won doubtless in battle against Schamyl in Circassia.
It is a common belief in England that every Russian gentleman speaks French; but though he may do so better than another foreigner--for he who can pronounce Muscovite "words of ten or twelve consonants apiece" may well speak anything--it is chiefly the language of the court and of diplomacy; and in this instance, when, after saluting each other profoundly, and eyeing each other with stern scrutiny, I addressed the officer in the language of our allies, he replied in German, which I knew very imperfectly.
I made him understand, however, that my message was for the officer in command of the left bastion.
He replied, that to be taken into Sebastopol, or even to be led nearer, required that the eyes of myself and the drummer should be blindfolded, to which I assented; and he proceeded carefully to muffle Dicky Roll and me in such a manner as to place us in utter darkness. He then gave me his arm, I took the drummer by the hand, and in this grotesque fashion, which excited some laughter in the trenches, the trio proceeded, stumbling and awkwardly, towards the city.
I heard the increasing buzz of many voices around us, the unbarring of a heavy wicket, the clatter of musket-butts on the pavement, and occasionally a hoarse order or word of command issued in what seemed the language of necromancy. Caissons, and wagons heavily laden, rattled along the streets; I felt that I was inside Sebastopol; but dared not without permission unbind my eyes, save at the risk of being run through the body by this fellow in the long coat, or made a prisoner of war, and despatched towards Perecop with my hands tied to the mane of a Cossack pony.
The sensation and the conviction were most tantalising; but I was compelled to submit, and knew that we were proceeding through the thoroughfares of that place towards which I had daily turned my field-glass with the most intense curiosity, and which we knew to be one vast garrison rather than a town, with whole streets of barracks, arsenals, and government houses.