Through Russian Snows (41 page)

"You are too good altogether, Count," Julian said; but the Russian
checked him with a peremptory gesture of his hand.

"Let us have no talk like that, Mr. Wyatt. You will only pain me deeply,
and make me think less well of you than I do now. Stephanie is to us
infinitely more than all our possessions, and did we assign to you all
else that we have in the world we should feel that the balance of
obligation was still against us. Now let us talk of other matters. In
the first place, about sending your letter. Of course, at present the
Baltic is frozen, and the ports beyond are all in the hands of the
French. Sweden, however, is in alliance with us, and our despatches for
England go up through Finland, then across the ice to Sweden, and by
land to Gothenburg, and thence by sea to England. It is a round-about
journey, but it is performed rapidly; and as there are English packets
always ready to sail from Gothenburg, your letters should, under
favourable circumstances, be in England in a fortnight.

"I should incline to advise you to write them in duplicate, for the
packet might be captured by a French privateer on its way, and it would
be safer therefore to despatch copies of your letters ten days after
those you first send off. In five weeks, if all goes well, you may
expect an answer. In the meantime, I hope you will find enough to amuse
you here, although the opera is closed, and there will be nothing like
gaieties this season; still, there will be dinner parties and the club;
and when you feel that you want a change I have an estate some five
hours' sledge drive from here. It consists largely of forest, but there
is plenty of game, elk and bears. If you are fond of shooting I can
promise you good sport."

"Thanks, indeed, Count. I am quite sure that I shall not be tired of St.
Petersburg in five or six weeks' time, and as for shooting, I do not
feel at present as if I should ever care to fire a gun again, certainly
not to take life, unless to satisfy hunger. I have seen so many horses
and dogs die, and have felt so much pity for them that I do not think
that I shall ever bring myself to take the life of a dumb beast again. I
am afraid I became somewhat callous to human life. I have seen thousands
of men die, and came somehow to regard it as their fate; and certainly,
during the retreat it came in most cases as a happy release from
suffering. But I could never, to the end, see a horse that had fallen
never to rise again, or a starving dog lying by its master's body,
without having intense pity for the poor creatures, who had, through no
fault or will of their own, come to this grievous end. No doubt you, as
a sportsman, Count, may consider this as overstrained feeling. I am
quite willing to admit that it may be so. I can only say that at present
I would not fire at an elk or a bear on any condition whatever."

"I can understand your feelings. I myself have had the cry of a horse
pulled down by wolves, in my ears for days, and I can well imagine how
the sight of so much suffering day after day among thousands of animals
would in time affect one."

The next three weeks passed most pleasantly for Julian. Every day there
were calls to make, excursions to various points to be undertaken, and
dinner parties nearly every evening, either at the count's, at the
houses of his friends, or at the club. He found French almost
universally spoken among the upper class, and was everywhere cordially
welcomed as a friend of the count's. The latter was sometimes questioned
by his intimate acquaintances as to his English friend, and to them he
replied, "Monsieur Wyatt is the son of a colonel in the English army. He
has rendered me a very great service, the nature of which I am not at
liberty to disclose. Suffice that the obligation is a great one, and
that I regard him as one of my dearest friends. Some day, possibly, my
lips may be unsealed, but you must at present be content to take him on
my sponsorship."

The countess had gained strength rapidly, and there were no grounds for
any further uneasiness as to her health; she was now able to take daily
drives with Stephanie.

"The child has become quite a military enthusiast," she said to Julian
one day. "Nothing pleases her so much as to look on at the troops
drilling."

St. Petersburg was indeed crowded with soldiers. New armies were rising
in all parts of Russia, and great preparations were being made to
recommence the campaign in the spring, this time upon foreign ground. No
sacrifices were too great to demand from the people. Nobles and
merchants vied with each other in the amount of their contributions,
and as it was certain that Austria, and probably Prussia would join the
alliance, hopes were entertained that the power that had dominated
Europe for so many years would be finally crushed. Already serious
disasters had fallen upon France in Spain. It was probable that ere long
the whole of the Peninsula would be wrested from her, and that she would
be threatened with an invasion in the south, as well as in the east. In
spite, therefore, of the terrible losses and calamities she had
suffered, Russia looked forward with ardent hope and expectations to the
future.

AN UNEXPECTED MEETING

Frank Wyatts's work throughout the campaign had been arduous in the
extreme. It is true that it was done on horseback instead of on foot,
that he had not hunger to contend against, and that for the most part
his nights were passed in a shelter of some kind. But from daybreak
until sunset, and frequently till midnight, he was incessantly occupied,
from the moment when Napoleon turned his back on Moscow, until the last
remnant of his army crossed the frontier. Until after the battle at
Malo-Jaroslavets on the 24th of October, when the French army owed its
safety solely to Kutusow's refusal to hurl all his forces against it, he
had remained at headquarters, where he was assisted in his work by the
Earl of Tyrconnel, who was now also acting as aide-de-camp to Sir Robert
Wilson. He was a delightful companion and a most gallant young officer,
and a fast friendship became established between him and Frank, during
the time the Russian army was remaining inactive, while Napoleon was
wasting the precious time at Moscow, unable to bring himself to
acknowledge the absolute failure of his plans caused by the refusal of
the Russians to treat with him, after his occupation of their ancient
capital. But after Kutusow had allowed the French to slip past they saw
but little of each other, for one or other of them was always with the
troops pressing hard on the French rear, it being their duty to keep Sir
Robert, who was necessarily obliged to stay at headquarters, thoroughly
informed of all that was going on in front, and of the movements both of
the French and Russian divisions.

Sir Robert himself was so utterly disgusted with the obstinacy and, it
almost seemed, deliberate treachery of Kutusow that, for the most part,
he accompanied General Benningsen, who was a prompt and dashing soldier,
and who, with the whole of the Russian generals, was as furious with the
apathy and delays of the worn-out old man who was in command, as they
had been with those of Barclay. The English general still acted as the
Emperor's special representative, and kept him fully acquainted with all
that was going on. Alexander was as much dissatisfied as were his
generals and soldiers with Kutusow's refusal to put an end to the
terrible struggle, by an action which must have ended in the destruction
or capture of Napoleon and his army. He felt, however, that he could not
at present remove him from his command. Kutusow was a member of the old
nobility, who were straining every nerve for the national cause, were
stripping their estates of their serfs, and emptying their coffers into
the military chests, and who would have greatly resented his removal.

The people at large, too, overjoyed at the retreat of Napoleon and the
success of their arms, and ignorant of all the real circumstances of the
case, regarded Kutusow with enthusiastic admiration; and Alexander felt
that, great as might be his faults, the injury that would be inflicted
by his supercession would be greater than the benefits derived from it.
An ample supply of horses had been placed at the disposal of the English
general and his aides-de-camp, and Frank, having three always at his
orders, was able to ride them by turns, and therefore got through an
immense amount of work. The scenes that everywhere met his eyes were far
more trying than the fatigues he had to undergo. The hideous barbarities
that were perpetrated by the peasants upon the French who fell into
their hands, filled him with burning indignation, and at times placed
his life in serious danger when he endeavoured to interfere on their
behalf. He always started on his rides in the morning with his
saddle-bag stored with provisions, and a small keg of spirits fastened
behind him, and these were divided during the day among the unfortunate
men, Russians and French alike, who, wounded or exhausted, had sunk by
the way.

THE LAST OF A VETERAN OF NAPOLEON'S GRANDE ARMÉE.

Innumerable were the appeals made to him daily to end their sufferings
with a pistol-ball; and, although he could not bring himself to give
them the relief they craved, on several occasions, when he saw that the
case was altogether beyond hope, and that but a few hours of mortal
agony remained, he yielded to their entreaties, handed them one of his
pistols, and walked a few paces away, until the sharp report told him
that their sufferings were over.

The horrors of the hospitals at Wilna and other places affected him even
more than the scenes of carnage that he had witnessed at Borodino. At
Wilna the Earl of Tyrconnel was seized with a fever and died, and Frank
lay for some time ill, and would probably have succumbed had not Sir
Robert obtained a lodging for him at the house of a landed resident,
three or four miles from the infected city. He was, in a sense, thankful
for the illness, because it spared him the sight of the last agony of
the broken remains of Napoleon's army. Quiet and rest soon did their
work. The breakdown was the result more of over-fatigue, and of the
horrors of which he was so continually a witness, than of actual fever.
Frank, therefore, rapidly recovered, and declared after a fortnight that
he could again sit on his horse.

The general, however, would not hear of this.

"I shall be leaving for St. Petersburg myself in a few days," he said,
"and we will travel together by post. You will be sorry to hear that
to-day Kutusow has been decorated with the great order of St. George.
The Emperor himself begged me not to be present. He called me into his
cabinet and confessed to me that it would be too humiliating to him were
I to be there. He acknowledged that he felt by decorating this man with
the great Order he was committing a trespass upon the institution; but
he had no choice. It was a cruel necessity to which he had to submit,
although he well knew that the marshal had done few things he ought to
have done, with nothing against the enemy that he could avoid, and that
all his successes had been forced upon him."

Sir Robert himself had urgent need of change and rest. The
responsibility upon his shoulders had been tremendous. The Emperor had
relied upon him entirely for information as to the true state of things
in the army, and the Russian generals regarding him as specially the
Emperor's representative, had poured their complaints into his ears.

Had they but received the slightest encouragement from him they would
have led their divisions against the French in spite of the orders of
the marshal, and it was with the greatest difficulty that he persuaded
them to restrain their exasperated troops, and to submit to carry out
the disastrous policy, which entailed as much loss and suffering upon
the Russian soldiers as upon the French.

It was the end of January when Sir Robert Wilson and Frank reached St.
Petersburg, and, putting up in apartments assigned to them in the
palace, rested for a few days.

One bright morning Frank strolled down to the Nobles' Club, of which he
and the general had been made honorary members. It was his first visit
to St. Petersburg. His fur coat was partly open and showed his British
uniform. He was looking about with interest at the scene in the Nevsky
Prospect when he noticed a gentleman in a handsomely appointed sledge
looking fixedly at him. As the uniform attracted general attention he
thought little of this, but after going a short distance the sledge
turned and passed him at a slow rate of speed. The gentleman again gazed
fixedly at him, then stopped the coachman, and leaped from the sledge to
the pavement.

"Frank!" he exclaimed, "is it you, or am I dreaming?"

Frank stepped back a pace in astonishment. It was the voice rather than
the face that he recognized.

"Julian!" burst from his lips, "my brother, can it be really you?"

Julian held out both his hands, and they stood for a moment in silence,
gazing into each other's face. Julian was the first to break the
silence.