The Great White Army

by Max Pemberton

But was it delivery?

I have told you that the sound of twinkling sleigh-bells arrested our attention. Minute by minute they grew louder; we heard the thud of hoofs upon the snow, and presently we discerned a troop of horsemen approaching at a trot, and amidst them a sleigh of unusual size drawn by no fewer than four horses abreast. This unexpected company made straight for the house, and drew rein only at its door. Who they were, or what country, whether friend or enemies, the wan light forbade us to say. Their master evidently rode in the sleigh, and no sooner had it pulled up than he sprang out upon the snow and in a twinkling was doffing his hat to Valerie St. Antoine. Such a merry old gentleman I had not met in Russia. Verily he did not cease to smile from the moment his troop first surrounded us until that other moment, less pleasing, when we were trussed like fowls and thrust headlong into other sleighs which followed in his wake.

Surely this was the most surprising adventure we had yet experienced in Russia.

Here was a merry old gentleman who knew nothing of us, but whose mere presence had scattered the moujiks like chaff; here was he riding up to the wretched house; clapping eyes upon Valerie and the child; hustling them headlong into his own sleigh; nodding to his troopers to fall upon us and carrying us away as though we were so many sheep for the block. Never have I known such a surprise. I could have laughed aloud at the irony of it when my nephew and I found ourselves upon our backs in a wretched coracle and heard the crack of the whips which hurried us on to a Russian prison. Assuredly there could be no other destination. We admitted as much to each other without any preface at all.

"They will be the Polish lancers from Orcha," said Léon. "I suppose the old man is one of their princes. Devilish unlucky, upon my word, mon oncle; we had done better with the peasants."

I told him that it was possible. The same thought was in both our minds. What of Valerie and the child? That the old man had been bewitched by Valerie's beauty there was no doubt whatever. Every gesture, every look marked him as a libertine from the moment when he first clapped eyes upon her until he had dragged her into his sledge and the horses had gone off at a gallop. Léon knew this as well as I, and his anger was a dreadful thing to see.

"I will shoot him like a dog, so help me God!" he said. And he strained with the strength of an ox to burst the ropes which bound him.

He might as well have tried to break a tree asunder. We were bound hand and foot, as though we had been the meanest of criminals. Our escort was a troop of some eighty men armed with lances and muskets, and plainly showing that they had their orders. There remained but the idle speculation upon that which must come after. Would this old man butcher us, fearing our tongues, or would he hand us over to the Cossacks at the first station we came to? We could not tell; the humiliation of our defeat was beyond all words insupportable, and our wrists bled with our efforts to free them. Valerie was in this man's power, and she had but us to look to. I could not have suffered more had my own sister's honour been at stake.

"The opportunity is not here," said I to Léon; "but it may come. Words will not help us. Take my advice and feign submission; it is better than being butchered. We shall not help Valerie that way. Let us remember what we have to do, and not act like children."

His answer was a frenzied outburst of rage which appalled me. So loud was it that the escort derided him, and the driver slashed back at him with his whip. When it had passed I perceived the old Léon, whose wit was quick even under such an emergency. He lay back upon the boards of the sleigh and feigned sleep.