“THE others will have the laugh at us when they come back,” Sarto said. “That will in no way trouble me,” Frank said. “It has given us a couple of hours’ work, and it has passed the time away. If all has gone well, we shall hear the firing very soon; we may be sure that they won’t be able to go fast through the wood, especially as they will have to be careful not to make any noise. Of course, it is all up hill too, and will be as dark as pitch under the trees; they will have almost to crawl along the last mile. I should not be surprised if it were another hour before they are in position to attack. And now that we are prepared to repel any attack upon us, and to hold out, if necessary, for three days or even more on the provisions we have got, we ought to consider another alternative.”
“What other alternative can there be?” Maffio asked.
“Let us suppose—and it is as well to suppose the worst—that Rubini falls into an ambush. It makes no difference whether the woman leads him into one, or whether she has been trapped and the ambush laid without her knowledge. Suppose that they are ambushed and that none of them get back here?”
An exclamation broke from the others.
“I said that we will suppose the worst,” Frank went on. “This man Prato, who is an old hand at such matters, would not improbably, if he expected that Rubini would come to attack him, have at once sent off to another band, or to men who sometimes act with him, and instead of their meeting thirty-eight men, they may meet sixty. In that case we might calculate that a third of Rubini’s force would fall at the first volley; there they would be in the forest, without a guide, in the dark, surrounded by twice their number of men well acquainted with the place, and accustomed to traversing it at night. Now I ask you frankly, do you think that many of them, or, indeed, any of them, would be likely to get back here? They might not all be killed; some might hide in the woods, and make their way down the mountain to-morrow, but the chance of any of them returning here seems to me to be small indeed, if things turn out as I have been saying.”
“But you don’t think, you can’t think, Percival——” Sarto said, in a tone of horror.
“I don’t say that I think so, Sarto. I only say that it seems to me to be possible; and, situated as we are, it is always as well to see what, if even the most unlikely thing takes place, could be done. Let us suppose that the detachment has been cut to pieces: what is our look-out here? We can defend the place, or rather we can defend ourselves, for three or four days; but what would be the benefit of that? If the news got down to Bronte, it would be necessary to send two or three companies up here to rescue us. If, as is very probable, no news got down there, we should have to surrender; and we know what that would mean, especially as, assuredly, we should have killed a good many of the brigands in the course of the fighting. Thus, then, nothing would be gained by our resistance. I was appointed to command that portion of troops left here, in case of Rubini going away in pursuit of brigands with the rest. I do not suppose that it was ever contemplated that only five men would be left behind, still that does not alter the case. The idea was, that the village might be attacked during the absence of part of the force, and that those here should maintain themselves until Rubini returned. But in the event of such a disaster as we are supposing, so far from there being any advantage in holding this church, it would be a serious disadvantage; for we should risk our lives without any point whatever in our doing so.”
“That is certainly true; but in that case, why should we have made these preparations for defence?”
“Simply because we hope, and have every reason to hope, that Rubini will return, and we are prepared to hold out until he does so. But, once assured that the detachment will not come back, the whole matter is changed.”
“But how are we to be assured?”
“Ah! that is a very difficult question to answer. As long as there is the slightest possibility of any part, however small, of the detachment returning, we are bound to hold on here. But, when can we feel certain that this will not be the case, our duty would be to consult our own safety by retreating if possible to Bronte.”
At this moment the sentry on the campanile ran in.
“I heard a sudden outburst of firing, Captain Percival, and it is continuing.”
Followed by all the others, Frank ran up to the top of the tower. There was no doubt that a tough fight was going on: the reports of the muskets came in quick succession; sometimes there would be a short pause, and then half a dozen shots would ring out close together.
For three or four minutes not a word was spoken; then, as the reports became less frequent, Sarto exclaimed, “It is nearly over: Rubini has done his work.”
Frank was silent, and Sarto added, “Do you not think so, Percival?”
“I hope so,” Frank replied, “but I am very much afraid that it is not so. Had Rubini taken the brigands completely by surprise, there would have been one crashing volley, then he would have rushed in with the bayonet, and it would have been all over in two minutes. Some of the brigands might have escaped, but there can have been no pursuit, for in the darkness in the forest there would have been no chance whatever of overtaking men perfectly familiar with it. No, I think that they have failed in taking them by surprise, and if they did fail to do so, the brigands would either have moved off, in which case there would have been no fight at all, or have laid an ambush for our party, which would account for the heavy firing we have heard. Whether the ambush was successful, or whether Rubini has beaten his assailants off, is uncertain.”
The others saw the justness of his reasoning, and remained silent. An occasional shot was still heard.
“What do you think that means?” Maffio asked—for both he and Sarto were beginning to feel a profound respect for the opinion of their companion.
“It means, of course, that one party or the other is pursuing fugitives, and I am afraid that it is a bad sign, for, as I have just said, our men would hardly try and chase these brigands through the wood they know very well.”
They waited another five minutes. Still shots were occasionally heard.
The conviction that Frank’s worst anticipations had been but too surely verified, forced itself upon the others.
“Will you stay here a short time longer?” Frank said to the others; “I will go down into the church. I should like to think over quietly what we had best do.”
He walked up and down the church. It was a tremendous responsibility for a lad not yet seventeen to bear. Some of Rubini’s party had escaped, and might be making their way back in hopes of finding shelter and safety. What would be their feelings if they arrived and found the party gone? On the other hand, defend themselves as well as they might, six men must finally succumb before a determined attack by a large party of ruffians exulting over their victory and thirsting for complete vengeance. But by the time his companions returned from above he had made up his mind as to the plan that had best be adopted.
“We will take a middle course,” he said. “We will leave the church, and conceal ourselves within a short distance of the door into the vestry. One of us must hide close to it, so that if any of our comrades come up and knock at the door for admission, he can bring them to us. We can then learn what has happened. If even eight or ten have escaped, we will return to the church and hold it; if only one or two, we will, when the brigands arrive and there is no chance of others coming, start for Bronte.”
“That is a capital plan,” Sarto exclaimed; and a murmur from the others showed that they too warmly approved.
“There is no hurry,” Frank went on. “We will eat a good meal before we start, then there will be no occasion to burden ourselves with provisions. Before leaving, we will light fresh candles: there are four or five pounds in the vestry. We will leave four alight in each floor of the tower, and the rest in different parts of the church, so that, when the brigands do arrive, they will think that we are watchful and well prepared for them. It is not likely they will know exactly what strength Rubini had with him, but will think that we have at least ten or twelve men with us, and will be sure to hesitate a little before they make an attack. They will take some little time to burst in the great doors; and even the door of the vestry is strong enough to bear a good deal of battering before they break that in, so that we shall get a good long start of them. Of course they may pursue, but we can keep on the road for the first half-mile, and then turn off and make our way through the forest. We can’t go very far wrong, as it is always a descent; besides, for aught they will know, we may have been gone a couple of hours before they get here. I think in that way we shall have done our duty to our comrades, and at the same time secured our own safety, for we have no right to throw away our lives when we can still do some work for Italy.”
“It could not be better,” Maffio said. “In that way we shall have the consolation of knowing that none of our friends, who have been wounded, have dragged themselves here after we had left only to find that they were deserted; while on the other hand it does away with the necessity of our throwing away our lives altogether uselessly. I revert to my former idea, Percival. If ever I have sons, I will send them to one of your great schools in England. It is clear that the life there and your rough games make men of you.”
They first sat down and ate a hearty meal of bread and wine, and then fresh candles were lighted and placed as Frank had directed. Then they left the church, locking the vestry door behind them. Sarto lay down behind a tombstone ten yards from the door, and the others took their places behind the low wall that ran round the church-yard. After waiting an hour Frank returned to Sarto.
“I am going,” he said, “to conceal myself at the end of the village, close enough to the road to hear anything that is said by people coming along. If, as I hope, they may be some of our men, I will join them and bring them on here, if not I will make my way here at once, and will give a low whistle. Directly you hear me, retire and join us. It will give us a few minutes’ extra time, for you may be sure that when they see the church lighted up, those who first arrive will wait for the rest before running the risk of a shot from the tower. When all are gathered no doubt there will be a good deal of talk as to how they had best attack it.”
Leaving Sarto, Frank made his way through the gardens until he arrived at the end of the village, and then sat down behind a low wall, close to the road. In half an hour he heard footsteps, and judged that six or eight men were coming from the forest.
“There is no doubt they are on the watch there,” one of them said; “the windows in the tower are lit up,—we shall have some work to do before we finish with them. They fought bravely—I will say that for them; and although half their number fell at our first volley, they killed eight or ten of our men, and wounded as many more, before, when there were only about half a dozen of them left, they broke through us and ran. It was lucky that Phillipo’s band arrived in time, for notwithstanding the surprise, I doubt whether we should have beaten them, had we been alone. It was a good thought of Prato to send young Vico to follow that woman, and that he saw her talking to the officer.”
Frank could hear no more, but rising quietly, he retraced his steps at a run, and as soon as he joined his companions gave a low whistle, which in a minute brought Sarto to his side.
“It is as I feared,” he said: “they laid an ambush for Rubini, and shot down half his men at once; the rest kept together and fought till all but six or seven were killed, and these burst through them and took to flight; and I am afraid that those shots we heard told that some even of these were overtaken and killed. Now let us be going; there were only about eight men in the party who first came along, and we may be sure that nothing will be attempted until the rest arrive. The men had noticed our lights in the tower, and evidently expected that we should sell our lives dearly; at any rate, we can calculate upon at least half an hour before they break into the church and find that we have left.”
They were obliged to go cautiously before they gained the road beyond the village, and then they broke into a trot.
“Half an hour will mean something like four miles,” Frank said; “and as it is not likely that they can run much faster than we are going, we may safely calculate that they will not overtake us for over an hour after they do start, and by that time we shall be well within five miles of Bronte. Indeed, with the slope in our favour, I am not sure that we may not calculate upon reaching the town itself; they certainly ought not to be able to run fifteen miles while we are running eleven.”
“If they do we should deserve to be caught,” Maffio said; “but I should think that they would not follow us far, as, for anything they can tell, we may have left the church a couple of hours ago.”
There were few words spoken as they ran steadily along. The thought of the slaughter of so many of their friends oppressed them all, and the fact that they had personally escaped was, at present, a small consolation. Frank had not been long enough with the company to make the acquaintance of many of the men, but he felt the loss of Rubini extremely. At Genoa, during the voyage, and on the march to Palermo, they had been constantly together, and the older man had treated him with as much cordiality and kindness as if he had been a young brother. Frank regretted now that he had not even more strongly urged his doubts as to the expediency of the expedition, though he felt that, even had he done so, his remonstrances would have been una............