The Daltons; Or, Three Roads In Life. Volume II

“Apparently the clink of our sabres has frightened those fellows, too,” said Frank, laughing, “for they pull like men in haste.”

“It’s well if it be no worse,” said the cadet.

“Partly what I was thinking, myself,” said Frank. “We may as well be cautious here.” And he ordered Ravitzky, with two men, to ride forty paces in advance, while four others, with carbines cocked, were to drop a similar distance to the rear.

The consciousness that he was assuming a responsibility made Frank feel anxious and excited, and at the same time he was not without the irritating sense that attaches to preparations of needless precaution. From this, however, he was rallied by remarking that Ravitzky seemed more grave and watchful than usual, carefully examining the road as he went along, and halting his party at the slightest noise.

“Did you hear or see anything in front?” asked Frank, as he rode up beside them.

“I have just perceived,” said the cadet, “that the boat which half an hour ago shot ahead and left us, has now returned, and persists in keeping a little in advance of us. There! you can see her yonder. They make no noise with their oars, but are evidently bent on watching our movements.”

“We ‘ll soon see if that be their ‘tactic,’” said Frank, and gave the word to his men “To trot.”

For about half a mile the little party rode sharply forwards, the very pace and the merry clink of the accoutrements seeming to shake off that suspectful anxiety a slower advance suggests. The men were now ordered to walk their horses; and just as they obeyed the word, Ravitzky called out, “See! there she is again. The winding of the bay has given them the advantage of us, and there they are still in front!”

“After all,” rejoined Frank, “it may be mere curiosity. Cavalry, I suppose, are seldom seen in these parts.”

“So much the better,” said Ravitzky, “for there is no ground for them to manouvre, with a mountain on one hand, and a lake on the other. There! did you see that light? It was a signal of some kind. It was shown twice; and mark, now! it is acknowledged yonder.”

“And where is the boat?”

“Gone.”

“Let us push on to Varenna; there must be some open ground near the village!” cried Frank. “Trot!”

An older soldier than Frank might have felt some anxiety at the position of a party so utterly defenceless if attacked; perhaps, indeed, his inexperience was not his worst ally at this moment, and he rode on boldly, only eager to know what and where was the peril he was called on to confront Suddenly Ravitzky halted, and called out, “There’s a tree across the road.”

Frank rode up, and perceived that a young larch-tree had been placed across the way, half carelessly, as it seemed, and without any object of determined opposition.

Two men dismounted by his orders to remove it, and in doing so, discovered that a number of poles and branches were concealed beside the rocks, where they lay evidently ready for use.

“They’ve had a Tyroler at work here,” cried an old Corporal of the Hussars; “they mean to stop us higher up the road, and if we fall back we ‘ll find a barricade here in our rear.”

“Over with them into the lake,” said Frank, “and then forward at once.”

Both orders were speedily obeyed, and the party now advanced at a rapid trot.

They were close to Varenna, and at a spot where the road is closely hemmed in by rocks on either side, when the sharp bang of a rifle was heard, and a shrill cry shouted something from the hillside, and was answered from the lake. Ravitzky had but time to give the word “Forwards!” when a tremendous fire opened from the vineyards, the roadside, and the boat. The red flashes showed a numerous enemy; but, except these, nothing was to be seen. “Forwards, and reserve your fire, men!” he cried. And they dashed on; but a few paces more found them breasted against a strong barricade of timber and country carts, piled up across the way; a little distance behind which rose another barricade; and here the enemy was thickly posted, as the shattering volley soon proved.

As Frank stood irresolute what course to take, the Corporal, who commanded the rear, galloped up to say that all retreat was cut off in that direction, two heavy wagons being thrown across the road, and crowds of people occupying every spot to fire from.

“Dismount, and storm the barricade!” cried Frank; and, setting the example, he sprang from his saddle, and rushed forwards.

There is no peril a Hungarian will not dare if his officer but lead the way; and now, in face of a tremendous fire at pistol-range, they clambered up the steep sides, while the balls were rattling like hail around them.

The Italians, evidently unprepared for this attack, poured in a volley and fled to the cliffs above the road. Advancing to the second barricade, Frank quickly gained the top, and sprang down into the road. Ravitzky, who was ever close behind him, had scarcely gained the height, when, struck in the shoulder by a ball, he dropped heavily down upon the ground. The attack had now begun from front, flanks, and rear together, and a deadly fire poured down upon the hussars without ceasing, while all attempt at defence was hopeless.

“Open a pass through the barricade,” shouted Frank, “and bring up the horses!” And while some hastened to obey the order, a few others grouped themselves around Ravitzky, and tried to shelter him as he lay.

“Don’t leave me to these fellows, Dalton,” cried he, passionately; “heave me over into the lake rather.”

Frank now saw that the poor fellow’s cheek was torn with a shot, and that his left hand was also shattered.

“The fire is too heavy, Herr Lieutenant; the men cannot open a way for the cattle,” whispered the old Corporal.

“What’s to be done then?” asked Frank; but the poor Corporal fell dead at his side as he spoke. The brunt of the conflict was, however, at the barricades; for, despairing of any prospect of removing the obstacles, many of the hussars had ridden recklessly at them, and there, entangled or falling, were shot down remorselessly by the enemy. One alone forced his way, and with his uniform bloody and in rags dashed up to Frank.

“Get the cadet up in front of you,” whispered Frank; and Ravitzky, who was now unconscious, was lifted into the saddle; while the hussar, grasping him with his strong arms, held him against his chest.

“Forward, now,” said Frank; on, to the first village, “and see him cared for.”

“But you, Herr Lieutenant, – what’s to become of you?”

“I ‘ll not leave my poor wounded comrades.”

“There ‘s not a living man amongst them,” cried the hussar. “Come along with us, Herr Lieutenant; we may want your help too.”

The firing ceased at this moment; and to the wild shouts and din of conflict there succeeded a dead silence.

“Keep quiet – keep quiet – stand close beneath the rock,” whispered Frank; “here comes the boat.” And, with slow and measured stroke, the skiff neared the shore, about twenty paces from where they stood.

“Pull in boldly,” cried a gruff voice, in Italian; “there’s nothing to fear now: neither man nor horse could survive that fire.”

“Would that the great struggle could be accomplished so easily!” said a softer tone, which Frank almost fancied he had heard before.

Lanterns were now seen moving in the space between the barricades; and crowds pressed down to examine and pillage the dead.

“Have you found the officer’s body?” asked he of the soft voice.

“I suspect the party was under a sergeant’s command,” said another.

“No, no,” rejoined the other; “Giuseppe was positive that he saw an officer.”

“See that he has not escaped, then,” said the other, eagerly. “The tale of this night’s adventure might be told in two ways at Milan.”

“The cadet is dying, sir; his head has fallen back,” whispered the hussar to Frank.

“The lake, Dalton, the lake!” muttered the dying man, as he threw his arms around Frank’s neck. Frank caught him while he was falling, but, overborne by the weight, reeled back against the rock.

“How many are in the boat?” whispered Frank.

“I see but one man, sir,” said the hussar.

“Now for it, then,” said Frank; “place him between us on a carbine, and make for the boat.”

With the energy of a newly inspired hope, the men obeyed in an instant; and, carrying their wounded comrade, moved stealthily along beneath the shadow of the rock. It was only as they emerged from this, and gained the little gravelly beach, that their figures could be seen.

“Be quiet now, men, and leave that fellow to me,” said Frank, as he cocked his pistol. The clank of the sabres, however, seemed warning enough for the crafty Italian, who jumped at once into the lake. With a rush, the Hungarians sprang into the skiff, while Frank, seizing it by the prow, pushed boldly out. The plunge and the splash had, meanwhile, attracted notice, and several hurried down to the beach. Frank had but time to order his men to lie down, when a crashing volley flew over them. “Now, to your oars, boys, before they can load again.” The light skiff almost rose out of the water to their vigorous stroke: and although the balls tore incessantly amongst them, they continued to row on. Sheets of bright flame flashed across the water, as volley after volley followed; but the Hungarians were soon out of the reach of the fire, with no other loss than some slight wounds.