Under the Red Dragon: A Novel

"And he--he fell by _your_ hand?" "I regret to say that he did," I replied, slowly and perplexedly. "You know him, and are certain of this?" "Certain as that I now address you--most certain, to my sorrow." "_O Gospodi pomiloui!_"[4] she exclaimed, clasping her hands together, and seeming now pale as the new-fallen snow; "my brother--my brother!" "Your _brother?_" I exclaimed, in genuine consternation. "Slain by you--your hand!" she wailed out, wildly and reproachfully. "O, it cannot be." "Speak--how?" She stamped her foot as she spoke, and no prettier foot in all Russia could have struck the carpet with a more imperial air. Her eyes were flashing now through tears; even her teeth seemed to glisten; her hands were clenched, and I felt that she regarded me, for the time, with hate and loathing. "He fell, and his horse, too--yet, now that I think of it," I urged, "he may be untouched; and from my soul I hope that such may be the case, for personally he is my friend." I felt deeply distressed by the turn matters had so suddenly taken; while Madame Tolstoff, to whom she now made some explanation in Russian, regarded me with fierce and undisguised hostility. "Then there is yet hope?" she asked, piteously. "That he may be simply wounded--yes." "For that hope I thank you, Hospodeen: a little time shall tell us all." "I was attacked and outnumbered; my own life was in the balance, and I knew him not, nor did he know me, until we were at close quarters, in the moment of his fall. To defend oneself is a natural impulse; and it has been truly said, that if a man armed with a red-hot poker were to make a lunge even at the greatest philosopher, he would certainly parry it, though he were jammed between two sacks of gunpowder. Then I have the honour of addressing the Hospoza Valerie?" "Yes," she replied, with hauteur; "but who are you, that know _my_ name?" "I am Captain Henry Hardinge, who--" "The Hospodeen Hardinge" (Hardin_ovitch_ she called it), "who so greatly befriended my dear brother in Germany, and who saved his life at Inkermann?" "The same." "I cannot receive you with joy; the present terrible tidings cloud all the past. Yet I have promised to protect you," she added, giving me both her hands to kiss, "and protected you shall be--even should my dead brother be borne here to-night!" So the slender girl with the dark orbs and golden hair, she of whose miniature I had custody for a little time on that memorable and exciting morning in the Heiligengeist Feld at Hamburg, was now a lovely woman in all the budded bloom of past twenty--a fair Russian, with "more peril in her eyes than fifty of their swords!" I felt sincere sorrow for the grief and consternation I had so evidently and so naturally excited, and I greatly feared that the hostility of the elder lady, Madame Tolstoff, might yet work me some mischief; though I knew not in what relation she could stand to Volhonski, who, at Hamburg, had distinctly said that his sister Valerie was the only one he had in the world. While I sat silently listening, and not without an emotion of guiltiness in my heart, to their sobs and exclamations of woe, uttered singly and together, the rapid clatter of hoofs, partially muffled by the snow, was heard without; bells sounded and doors were banged; and then Ivan Yourivitch, his old wrinkled face full of excitement and importance, entered the room unsummoned. My heart for a moment stood still. "What fresh evil tidings," thought I, "does this old Muscovite bring us now?" CHAPTER XLVI.--DELILAH. Even while Ivan Yourivitch was conferring with his startled mistress, I saw a tall figure in Russian uniform--the eternal long gray greatcoat--appear at the room door, and I was instinctively glancing round for some weapon wherewith to defend me, when to my astonishment Volhonski entered, somewhat splashed with mud, certainly, and powdered with snow, but whole and well, without a wound, and with a cry of joy Valerie threw herself into his arms. Wholly occupied by his beautiful sister, to whom he was tenderly attached, fully a minute elapsed before he turned to address Madame Tolstoff and then me. Was it selfishness, was it humanity, was it friendship, or what was the sentiment that inspired me, and caused so much of genuine joy to see Volhonski appear safe and untouched?--I, who from the trenches had been daily wont to watch with grim satisfaction the murderous "potting" of the Ruskies from the rifle-pits, and literal showers of legs, arms, and other fragments of poor humanity, by their appearance in the air, respond to the explosion of a well-directed shell! He now turned to me with astonishment on recognising my face in that place, and with the uniform of the Rifle Militia. "By what strange caprice or whirligig of fortune do I find you here?" he exclaimed, as he took my hand, but certainly with a somewhat dubious expression of eye; "you have not come over to us, I hope, as some of our Poles have lately gone to you?" "No," I replied, almost laughing at the idea. "Don't mistake me; I came here as a fugitive, glad to escape you and your confounded Cossacks; but I thank God, Volhonski, that you eluded my pistol on the cliffs yonder." "Then it was _you_, Captain Hardinge, whom I followed so fast and so far from that khan on the Kokoz road? By St. George, my friend, but you were well mounted! In our skirmish one of your balls cut my left shoulder-strap, as you may see; the other shred away my horse's ear on the off side, making him swerve round so madly that he threw me--that was all. You, however, fell into the sea--" "And was soaked to the skin; the reason why, 'only for this night positively,' as the play-bills have it, I appear in the uniform of the Imperial Rifle Militia, after finding my way here by the happiest chance in the world," I added, with a glance at his smiling sister. "Marshal Canrobert--" "Has fallen back with his slender force from Kokoz. You had a despatch for him, I presume, by what fell from you at the Tartar caravanserai?" "Precisely." "Ah, I thought as much." "I should not have been touring so far from our own lines else. It concerned, I believe--if I may speak of it--an _émeute_ among the Poles in Sebastopol." "A false rumour spread by some deserters; there was no such thing; and be assured that our good father, the Emperor, is too much beloved, even in Poland, to be troubled by disaffection again." Volhonski now threw off his great coat, and appeared in the handsome full uniform of the Vladimir Infantry, on a lapel of which he wore, among other orders, the military star of St. George the Victorious, which is only bestowed by the Czar, for acts of personal bravery, like our Victoria Cross. "How came you to know of me and of my despatch?" I inquired, while Yourivitch replaced the wine and some other refreshments on the table. "I had Menschikoff's express orders to watch, with a sotnia of Cossacks, Canrobert's flying column on the Kokoz road; and the Tartars were prompt enough in telling me of _your_ movements--at least of the appearance of an officer of the Allies, where, in sooth, he had no right to be. But, my friend, you look pale and weary." "He has no less than three lance-wounds!" urged Valerie. "Three!" "In the arms and shoulder." "This is serious; but take some more of the Crimskoi--it is harmless wine. Excuse me, Captain Hardinge, but of course you are aware how dangerous it is for you to remain long here?" "I have no intention of remaining a moment absent from my duty, if I can help it!" said I, energetically. "So we must get you smuggled back to your own lines somehow--unless you consent to become a prisoner of war." "I have already given my parole of honour." "Indeed! to whom?" "To the Hospoza Volhonski," said I, laughing. "More binding, perhaps, than if given to me; yet as I don't wish to avail myself of your promises to Valerie, but for the memory of past times," he added, with a pleasant smile, "to see you safe among your friends, I must contrive some plan to get you hence without delay." "Why such inhospitable haste?" asked Valerie. "Think of the peril to him and to us of being discovered here--and in that dress, too!" "I fear I shall not be able to ride for days," said I, despondingly, as sensations of lassitude stole over me. "I fear that with Valerie for your nurse, you may never return to health at all," said Volhonski, laughing, as he knew well the coquettish proclivities of his sister; "hence, to insure at least convalescence, I must commit you to the care of old Yourivitch or Madame Tolstoff." Joy for her brother's safe return made Valerie radiant and splendidly brilliant; while some emotion of compunction for her temporary hostility to me, led her to be somewhat marked in her manner, softly suave; and this _he_ observed; for, after a little time, he said, smilingly, "You and my Valerie seem to have become quite old friends already; but remember the moth and the candle--_gardez-vous bien, mon camarade Hardinge!_" "I don't understand you, Paulovitch," said Valerie, pouting. "As little do I," said I, colouring, for the Colonel's speech was pointed and blunt, though his manner was scrupulously polite; but with all that, foreigners frequently say things that sound abrupt and strange to English ears. "This stupid soldier is afraid that, if left in idleness, you will fall in love with Madame Tolstoff--or me," said Valerie; "he is thinking of the Spanish proverb, no doubt--_Puerto abierto al santo tiento_." "I am thinking of no such thing, and did but jest, Valerie," said her brother, gravely, while he caressed her splendid hair. "Madame Tolstoff, our dear friend, is an experienced chaperone; and beside that, you are safe--set apart from the world--so far as concerns the admiration of men." "That I never shall be, I hope!" said she, smiling and pouting again. By Jove, can it be that she is destined for a nunnery? What the deuce can he mean by all these strange hints and out-of-place remarks? thought I, and not without secret irritation. Perhaps the keen Muscovite read something of this in my face, for he now clinked his glass against mine, and filled it with beautifully golden-coloured Château Yquem, bright, cool, and sparkling from its white crystal flask; and to this champagne soon succeeded; unwisely for me, though it was champagne in its best condition, that is, after being just six years in bottle, as Yourivitch assured us; and now our conversation became more gay and varied, and, as I thought, decidedly more pleasant. He gave me some recent news from the immediate seat of war, and from our own lines, that proved of interest to me. The Retribution man-of-war, with the Duke of Cambridge on board, was said to have been lost, or nearly so, in the late great storm, which the Russians naturally hoped would delay the arrival of transports with reinforcements and supplies for the Allies; and he added that if the generals of the latter "had but the brains to _cut off all communication with Simpheropol, Sebastopol would surrender in three days!_" He mentioned, also, that the Greeks at Constantinople had taken heavy bets that it would not fall before Christmas, which seemed likely enough, as Christmas was close at hand now; and that there was a rumour to the effect that General Buraguay d'Hilliers--one of the veterans of the retreat from Moscow--had landed at Eupatoria, and given battle to General Alexander Nicolaevitch von Luders, and defeated him with the 5th Infantry Corps of the Russian Army; a most improbable story, as D'Hilliers was at that moment with his army in the Aland Isles! And now Valerie, wearying of war and politics,