CHAPTER XVII

The Flight from Croixilia

"Now, what's to be done?" asked Gerald. "We are prisoners to all intents and purposes."

"There are more ways than one of killing a cat," replied Reeves, tearing the letter into little bits and throwing them into the wide, open hearth. "We must take French leave, that's all. To-morrow I'll see Sir John and have it out with him."

But Sir John would not see the man his word to whom he had broken. He merely replied that the strangers must remain within the limits he had named until they gave the required promise. Reeves said something under his breath, and went to call upon Garth, whose quarters were in the same building.

The wounded Croixilian was visibly annoyed when he heard of the action taken by the acting ruler of the State.

"Sorry I am to have to bid you farewell," he exclaimed, "but 'tis for your wellbeing. Set by a store of such things as you can easily carry. Meanwhile I will speak with Captain Raoul Gare, whom I know intimately, and we will see what is to be done. Bring your two young comrades to see me before you make the attempt; and remember, if you get clear of the city, take heed of the plain of quicksands. Go rather by the wild country to the south. 'Twill take longer, but the time will be well spent."

At length Reeves took his leave, promising to come again with his young charges. He did not think it necessary to tell Garth that he knew the secret path over the treacherous plain. But one thing was evident, Garth was a true comrade, and would do his uttermost to assist them in their attempt to leave the city.

The next morning Raoul Gare looked in on his rounds.

"Holà, comrades!" he exclaimed. "Want of exercise will stiffen your joints. There is nothing like skipping when your walks are limited."

Reeves deemed this a strange remark, till a thought suddenly struck him.

"Aye," he replied, "'tis a good idea. A small piece of rope will not come amiss."

That evening a soldier entered the Englishmen's quarters with a box under his arm, saying it was a present from Captain Gare. Directly the man had gone, Reeves prised the box open. Inside was a coil of three-inch rope sufficient to reach thrice the height of the battlements.

"That's half the battle!" he exclaimed, after he had explained to the lads the real reason for the captain's skipping rope. "They are fine fellows, these Croixilians. It's a pity to have to sneak off, but that brute, Sir John, has spoiled everything."

True to his word, Reeves took the lads to bid Garth farewell. It was a sorrowful party, for each man realized that each had risked his life in order to save the others', and they had been comrades in the field of battle in more than one fiercely-contested fight.

"The guard at the great gorge will not hinder you," said Garth at parting. "Much as I wish to do my duty to my country, there are times and places when tyrannical orders may be laxly carried out. When you leave the pass behind you, keep to the north, and ware the quicksands. Horses will be awaiting you. Show this ring to the men with them, and all will be well."

The same night Reeves, bearing one end of the coil of rope, scaled the chimney; three muskets, ammunition, and food were sent up after him, and soon Hugh and Gerald rejoined him on the flat roof. Beneath them, on the battlements, they could see the outlines of the sentinels, but the men's backs were resolutely turned towards them. A double length of rope was dropped, the bight being held by the masonry between two of the apertures in the battlemented wall. Down these lengths the lads swarmed, Reeves followed, and the rope was pulled clear, so as to serve for the purpose of descending the outer wall.

Five minutes later the wanderers had shaken the dust of Charleton from off their feet--for the last time, as they fondly hoped.

Their route lay betwixt the devastated cornfields, where no cover was available; but since the gates of the city were closed at night, no one was likely to be met.

At length they gained the entrance to the formidable gap betwixt the rocks, and here again, although lights shone in the guardhouse, none challenged them. In the gorge the darkness was intense, and the refugees had great difficulty in avoiding the stones that had fallen from above; but, maintaining perfect silence, they kept on their way, emerging from the sombre ravine as day was breaking.

"We may as well take proper precautions in case we are pursued when our flight is discovered," said Reeves, and, bringing his musket to his shoulder, he fired into the gorge they had just left behind them. The echoes of the report were drowned by a roar like thunder, as tons of rock came hurtling from the heights above.

"That will take them some time to clear, I expect," he continued, as he reloaded his clumsy weapon. "We've slammed the front door in our host's face. Now, we won't go south, but we'll try our luck with the quicksands."

The lads wondered why their companion had taken the trouble to carry the heavy coil of rope with him, but their curiosity was set at rest when Reeves proceeded to rope them together, leaving nearly thirty feet of "slack" between each.

This done, he began the perilous passage, walking backwards so as to be sure of keeping the leading marks in line; while Hugh and Gerald, holding the intervening lengths of rope fairly taut, followed in his footsteps.

On and on Reeves went, till after covering nearly a mile he stopped. "Here we turn," he exclaimed. "Now, mind how you go. Follow me very carefully."

"Shall I take the lead?" asked Gerald. "You must be frightfully fagged walking backwards all that way."

"I'd be glad if you would," replied Reeves gratefully. "My muscles are aching fearfully. There are the marks."

Once more the march was resumed, Gerald leading, Reeves in the centre, and Hugh following in the rear, the line of route being now at right angles to their former direction, and pointing almost straight for the little fort by the ferry.

Presently Hugh, who was growing familiar with the dangerous path, stepped a few inches from the centre. Then, with appalling suddenness, his feet slipped from beneath him. In his efforts to recover his balance his musket flew from his grasp and instantly disappeared from view, and only the strain upon the rope prevented him from sharing the fate of the weapon.

Fortunately Reeves preserved his presence of mind, and, instead of instantly running to the aid of his comrade, he kept the rope taut while he walked towards him. When about three feet off he stopped, and called to Gerald to come up as cautiously as he could.

Meanwhile Hugh was slowly sinking, in spite of the support of the rope. The suction of the sands was terrific. It was impossible for him to struggle. He could only keep as still as was possible, in spite of the agonizing torture of body and mind, trusting to the strength of his friends to haul him out of the treacherous snare.

Bracing themselves for the effort, Reeves and Gerald pulled with all their might. Hugh yelled. It was as if his legs were being torn from their sockets; but he remained anchored to the terrible quicksands.

"Mind you don't fall into the sands on the other side, Gerald, if he should come up with a jerk," cautioned Reeves. "Now, together!"

With a united and mighty heave, Hugh was dragged from a horrible yet certain death, while Gerald, in spite of the warning, wellnigh tumbled backwards when his chum, like a huge fish, was squirming upon the hard ground. So great had been the suction that the leather buskins with which Hugh had been supplied during his stay in Croixilia were wrenched from his feet, while from his thighs downwards the skin was inflamed and bruised in places as if he had been scourged.

In a few minutes he was able to walk, although the pain was intense; and, having resumed their relative positions, the three adventurers proceeded to negotiate the remaining portion of that hazardous pathway.

"We've a choice of boats, I see," said Reeves, as they drew up at the little stone quay. Moored to the wall were three craft, one the ferryboat in which they had crossed on their journey to Croixilia, the others being larger.

"There would be room for three horses quite easily," remarked Gerald, pointing to one of the bigger craft.

"There would be," assented Reeves. "It's almost a pity we didn't make sure of the horses; but it cannot be helped. We could not return without considerable risk, and I doubt whether we could lead horses over that pathway. I wonder where the ferrymen are? We are in want of food. Perhaps Garth's ring will help us."

The correspondent stalked over to the fort, and began to hammer at the door. It was unfastened, and flew open at the first blow. But the place was untenanted.

"Come here, lads; we're in luck," shouted Reeves.

On a board were six large rye loaves, six thick rugs, a bag of flour, a jar of salt, a square of canvas that would form either a sail or an awning at will, and a broad-bladed axe. Pinned to the sack was a paper on which was written, in old-fashioned characters and in the quaint dialect of Croixilia: "If so be you have decided to go this way, these are for your welfare".

"They evidently wish to show their good feeling, in spite of the fact that we sneaked out of the city," said Gerald.

"Yes; it's quite certain that without the aid of our unknown friends our difficulties would be tenfold," replied Reeves. "However, we had better get these things aboard without further loss of time."

When the last load was ready to be taken to the boat, Reeves folded the paper and put it in his pocket, while with a piece of charcoal he wrote the words "Many thanks!" upon the board.

"We cannot do more in that respect," he observed. "I might have written on the back of the paper, but we don't know into whose hands it might fall."

Reeves had already decided upon the boat that was to take them downstream. He chose the smaller of the two large ones, this craft being of fairly shallow draught, apparently of more recent construction, and easier to handle. The provisions were stored amidships and two short masts placed in position, the canvas being stretched tightly between them. As there was absolutely no wind, this last was useless as a sail, but as an awning it provided good protection from the already powerful rays of the sun. There were four oars on board--long, heavy ones, weighted at the haft with lead to compensate for the disproportionate distance between the thole pins and the blade.

"Here is another type of mediaevalism," said the correspondent, pointing to the oars. "Almost the same as were used by the galley slaves of old. Oars on an African river seem out of place; paddles would be preferable under ordinary circumstances."

"How would they?" asked Hugh, who was engaged in cooling his aching limbs in the tepid water.

"In weed-encumbered water, such as we are likely to encounter. Here, as you see, the river expands, forming a fairly extensive lake, and vegetation is somewhat scarce; but I should not be at all surprised if we have to literally cut our way through the reeds and water lilies lower downstream."

Casting off the rope that held it to the quay, Reeves pushed the boat clear and dipped an oar, Gerald pulling at a second while Hugh steered. A few strokes sufficed to put a fair distance between the shore and the craft, and her bow was pointed downstream. In less than half an hour the ghaut-like crags at the upper end of the lake were lost to view.