CHAPTER XXXIV.
THE CROWNING MERCY.
We must now take up the story of the third division of the greatexpedition, the plan and execution of which so fully reflects themilitary genius of our distinguished hero; for though this part wascarried out by Billy Blythe, the credit of the design, as well as thediscovery of the means of carrying it out, were wholly due to GeneralNapoleon Smith.
When the second boat swept loose and the futile anger of Sir ToadyLion had ceased to excite the laughter of the crew, the gipsy ladssettled down to watching the rush of the Edam Water as it swept themalong. They had, to begin with, an easier task than the first boatexpedition. No enemy opposed their landing. No dangerous concealedstepping-stones had to be negotiated on the route they were to follow.Leaving all to the action of the current, they swept through theentrance to the wider branch, and presently ranged up alongside thedeserted water-front of the ancient defences. They let the castle dropa little behind, and then rowed up into the eddy made by the corner ofthe fallen tower, where, on the morning of his deliverance, Hugh Johnhad disturbed the slumbering sheep by so unexpectedly emerging fromthe secret passage.
Billy stepped on shore to choose a great stone for an anchor, andpresently pulled the whole expedition alongside the fallen masonry, sothat they were able to disembark as upon a pier.
The Bounding Brothers immediately threw several somersaults just tolet off steam, till Billy cuffed them into something like seriousness.
"Hark to 'em," whispered Charlie Lee; "ain't they pitching it intothem slick, over there on the other side. It's surely about our timeto go at it."
"Just you shut up and wait," hissed Billy Blythe under his breath."That's all your job just now."
And here, in the safe shelter of the ruined tower, the fourteenlistened to the roar of battle surging, now high, now low, in headyfluctuations, turbulent bursts, and yet more eloquent silences fromthe other side of the keep.
They could distinguish, clear above all, the voice of General Smith,encouraging on his men in the purest and most vigorous Saxon.
"Go at them, boys! They're giving in. Sammy Carter, you sneak, I'llsmash you, if you don't charge! Go it, Mike! Wire in, boys! Hike themout like Billy-O!"
And the Bounding Brothers, in their itching desire to take part,rubbed themselves down as if they had been horses, and softly squaredup to each other, selecting the tenderest spots and hitting lightly,but with most wondrous accuracy, upon breast or chin.
"Won't we punch them! Oh no!" whispered Charlie Lee.
But from the way that he said it, he hardly seemed to mean what hesaid.
Just then came a tremendous and long continued gust of cheering fromthe defenders of the castle, which meant that they had cleared theirfront of the assailants. The sound of General Smith's voice waxedgradually fainter, as if he were being carried away against his willby the tide of retreat. Still at intervals he could be heard,encouraging, reproving, exhorting, but without the same glad confidentring in his tones.
Flags of red and white were waved from the ramparts; pistols (chargedwith powder only) were fired from embrasures, and the Smoutchies renttheir throats in arrogant jubilation. They thought that the greatassault had failed.
But behind them in the turret, all unbeknown, the Bounding Brotherssilently patted one another with their knuckles as if desirous ofpractising affectionate greetings for the Smoutchies.
Perhaps they were; and then, again, perhaps they weren't.
* * * * *
"Now's our time," cried Billy Blythe; "come on, boys. Now for it!"
And with both hands and feet he began to remove certain flag-stonesand recently heaped up _debris_ from the mouth of a narrow passage,the same by which Hugh John had made his escape. His men stood aroundin astonishment and slowly dawning admiration, as they realised thattheir attack was to be a surprise, the most complete and famous inhistory, and also one strictly devised and carried out on the bestmodels. Though the rank and file did not know quite so much about thatas their Commander-in-Chief, who was sure in his heart that Froissartwould have been glad to write about his crowning mercy.
It is one of the proofs of the genuine nobility of Hugh John's nature,and also of his consummate generalship, that he put the carrying outof the final _coup_ of his great scheme into other hands, consentinghimself to take the hard knocks, to be mauled and defeated, in orderthat the rout of the enemy might be the more complete.
The rubbish being at last sufficiently cleared, Billy bent his headand dipped down the steps. Charlie Lee followed, and the fourteen wereon their way. Silently and cautiously, as if he had been relieving ahen-roost of its superfluous inhabitants, Billy crept along, testingthe foothold at every step. He came to the stairway up to the dungeon,pausing a moment, to listen. There was a great pow-wow overhead. TheSmoutchies were in the seventh heaven of jubilation over the repulseof the enemy.
Suddenly somebody in the passage sneezed.
Billy turned to Charlie Lee. "If that man does that again, burke him!"he whispered.
Then with a firm step he mounted the final ascent of the secret stair.His head hit hard against the roof at the top. He had not rememberedhow Hugh John had told him that the exit was under the lowest part ofthe bottle dungeon.
"Bless that roof!" he muttered piously--more piously, perhaps, thancould have been expected of him, considering his upbringing.
"If Billy Blythe says that again, burke him!" said a carefullydisguised gruff voice from the back--evidently that of the latesneezer.
"Silence--or by the Lord I'll slay you!" returned Billy, in a hissingwhisper.
There was the silence of the grave behind. Billy Blythe made himselfmuch respected for the moral rectitude and true worth of hischaracter.
One by one the fourteen stepped clear of the damp stairs, and stood inthe wide circuit of the dungeon.
But the narrow circular exit of the cell was still twelve feet abovethem. How were they to reach it? The walls were smooth as the insideof the bottle from which the prison-house took its name, curving in atthe top, without foothold or niches in their smooth surface, so thatno climber could ascend more than a few feet.
The Bounding Brothers stepped to the front, and with a hitch of theirshoulders, stood waiting.
"Ready!" said Billy.
In a moment Charlie Lee was balancing himself on the third storey ofthe fraternal pyramid. He could just look over the edge of theplatform on which the mouth of the dungeon was placed. He ducked downsharply.
"THE LIVING CHAIN."]
"They are all at their windows, yelling like fun," he whispered, withthe white, eager look of battle on his face.
"Up, and at 'em!" said Billy, as if he had been the Great Duke.
And at his word the Bounding Brothers arched their shoulders toreceive the weight of the coming climbers. One after another theremaining eleven scrambled up, swift and silent as cats; and withCharlie Lee at their head, lay prone on the dungeon platform, waitingthe word of command. Close as herrings in a barrel they crouched,their arms outstretched before them, and their chins sunk low on themasonry.
Billy crept along till his head lay over the edge of the bottledungeon. He extended his arms down. The highest Bounding Brothergrasped them. His mate at the foot cast loose from the floor andswarmed up as on a ladder. The living chain swayed and dangled; butthough his wrists ached as if they would part from their sockets,Billy never flinched; and finally, with Charlie Lee stretched acrossthe hollow of his knees to keep all taut behind, by mere leverage ofmuscle he drew up the last brother upon the dungeon platform.
The fourteen lay looking over upon the unconscious enemy. The level ofthe floor of the keep was six feet below. The Smoutchies to a man wereat their posts.
With a nudge of his elbow Billy intimated that it was not yet time forthe final assault. He listened with one ear turned towards the greatopen gateway, till he heard again the rallying shout of GeneralNapoleon Smith.
"_Now then! Ready al
l! Double-quick! Char-r-r-ge!_"
With a shout the first land division, once repulsed, came the secondtime at the foe. The Smoutchies crowded to the gateway, desertingtheir windows in order to repel the determined assault delivered byHugh John and his merry men.
"Now!" said Billy Blythe softly, standing up on the dungeon platform.
He glanced about him. Every Bounding Brother and baresark man of thegipsy camp had the same smile on his face, the boxer's smile when hegives or takes punishment.
Down leaped Billy Blythe, and straight over the floor of the keep forthe great gateway he dashed. One, two--one, two! went his fists. Thethirteen followed him, and such was the energy of their charge thatthe Smoutchies, taken completely by surprise, tumbled off theirplatforms by companies, fell over the broken steps by platoons, andeven threw themselves in their panic into the arms of Hugh John andhis corps, who were coming on at the double in front.
Never was there such a rout known in history. The isolated Smoutchieswho had been left in the castle dropped from window and tower at theperil of their necks in order that they might have a chance ofreaching the ground in safety. Then they gathered themselves up andfled helter-skelter for the bridge which led towards the town of Edam.
But what completed their demoralisation was that at this psychologicalmoment the third division under Sir Toady Lion came into action. Mr.Burnham, with his coat-tails flying, caught first one and thenanother, and whelmed them on the turf, while the valiant butcher ofEdam, having secured his own offspring firmly by the collar, causedhis cane to descend upon that hero's back and limbs till the air wasfilled with the resultant music. And the more loudly Nipper howled,the faster and faster the Smoutchies fled, while the shillelahs of thetwo generals, and the fists of the Bounding Brothers, wrought havoc intheir rear. The flight became a rout. The bridge was covered with thefugitives.
The forces of Windy Standard took all the prisoners they wanted, andbutcher Donnan took his son, who for many days had reason to rememberthe circumstance. He was a changed Smoutchy from that day.
The camp of the enemy, with all his artillery, arms, and militarystores, fell into the hands of the triumphant besiegers.
At the intercession of Mr. Burnham the prisoners were conditionallyreleased, under parole never to fight again in the same war--nor forthe future to meddle with the Castle of Windy Standard, the property,as Hugh John insisted on putting it, of Mr. Picton Smith, Esq., J. P.
But Mr. Burnham did what was perhaps more efficacious than any oaths.He went round to all the parents, guardians, teachers, and employersof the Smoutchy army. He represented the state of the case to them,and the danger of getting into trouble with a man so determined andpowerful as Mr. Picton Smith.
The fists of the Bounding Brothers, the sword of General Napoleon, theteeth and nails of Sir Toady Lion (who systematically harassed therear of the fleeing enemy) were as nothing to the several interviewswhich awaited the unfortunate Smoutchies at their homes and places ofbusiness or learning that evening, and on the succeeding Mondaymorning. Their torture of General Smith was amply avenged.
The victorious army remained in possession of the field, damaged buthappy. Their triumph had not been achieved without wounds and bruisesmanifold. So Mr. Burnham sent for half-a-crown's worth ofsticking-plaster, and another half-crown's worth of ripe gooseberries.
Whereupon the three divisions with one voice cheered Mr. Burnham, andToady Lion put his hand on the sacred silk waistcoat, and said in hismost peculiar Toady-leonine grammar, "'Oo is a bwick. Us likes 'oo!"
Which Mr. Burnham felt was, at the very least, equivalent to thethanks of Parliament for distinguished service.
It was a very happy, a very hungry, a very sticky, and a very patchyarmy which approached the house of Windy Standard at six o'clock thatnight, and was promptly sent supperless to bed.
Hugh John parted with Cissy at the stepping-stones. Her eyes dweltproudly and happily upon him.
"You fought splendidly," she said.
"We all fought splendidly," replied Hugh John, with a nod of approvalwhich went straight to Cissy's heart, so that the tears sprang intoher eyes.
"Oh, you _are_ a nice thing, Hugh John!" she cried impulsively,reaching out her hands to clasp his arm.
"No, I'm not!" said Hugh John, startled and apprehensive. Then withoutwaiting for more he turned hastily away.
But all the same Cissy Carter was very happy that night as she wenthomeward, and did not speak or even listen when Sammy addressed herseveral times by the way upon the dangers of war and the folly oflove.