V
During the scout's absence, Burton had become acutely conscious of thebruises which he had almost forgotten. He dreaded lest his aching bodyshould not be equal to the strain of a fight against odds. But heresolutely turned his mind from his own condition, and set himself toconcert a plan of action with old Marco and Captain Enderby.
They decided that while the attack was proceeding Nuta should remainwith the cart. If it succeeded, she would be brought up to the tower;if it failed, and the enemy made their appearance, the possession ofCaptain von Hildenheim should serve as security for the safety ofherself and Enderby. A threat to shoot him would no doubt induce hisparty to come to terms. The expression on the woman's face as she tookEnderby's revolver was sufficient guarantee that she would not fail inthe part assigned to her.
Five minutes after the return of Milosh the little party set off ontheir adventurous enterprise.
"Good luck, old man!" said Enderby, as Burton took his leave. "Sorry Ican't be with you, but we'll meet again before long."
They stole up the road in single file, Milosh leading, followed by oldMarco, Burton, and the boy in succession. Reaching the wall, they creptalong its shadow to the gateway, noiselessly entered the enclosure, and,after a swift glance around, sped towards the tower. The clank ofbridles and the pawing of hoofs did not alarm them; Milosh had alreadyexplained that the horses had been placed in the large chamber thatformed the ground floor. To this there was no longer a door, butthrough the vacant doorway came a faint glint of light.
At the entrance they halted, and peered in. Ranged along the wall tothe right stood the horses, which, scenting strangers, moved restlessly.In the left corner the rays of a lamp fell through an open trap-doorabove, lighting a rough wooden staircase. From the upper room came thesound of voices mingled with snores. At the uneasy movements of thehorses the conversation ceased for a moment. A head appeared at theedge of the trap-door, and a rough voice ordered the animals to bequiet, as one might tell a dog to "lie down." Another voice from behindsleepily asked a question. The first man replied, and withdrew from theopening. Then the low-toned conversation was resumed.
There being but one entrance to the tower, and but one gateway in thewall, the single sentry whom Milosh had disposed of had no doubt beenconsidered a sufficient guard; but old Marco had decided, leavingnothing to chance, to post his grandson at the doorway, to keep watchoutside and give the alarm if any sudden interference should threaten.The boy grasped manfully the revolver given him, and stood against thewall out of the ray of light.
The others slipped silently across the room to the staircase. At itsfoot they halted a moment, looking up towards the trap-door. Thestaircase was clearly a rickety affair. Some of the treads were missing;the handrail and balusters which had formerly edged it on the outer sidewere now wholly removed. Signing to his companions to move carefully,Milosh began to ascend.
At his first step there was an ominous creak, masked, however, by arenewed stir among the horses. The old Serb and Burton followed inturn, treading as lightly as they could. Milosh was half-way up when,stepping over a gap, his foot came down heavily on the stair above, andthe timber emitted a loud groan. The voices above ceased; then a gruffvoice in the Bulgarian tongue muttered: "What was that?" Milosh hurriedhis ascent. A shadow fell on the men below him; something had moved atthe edge of the trap-door. A cry of alarm ended in an inarticulategasp; for the second time that night a Serbian knife had taken toll ofthe national enemy.
There was a loud shout from behind the fallen man, followed by confusedcries from the awakened sleepers. Regardless now of any noise theymight make the three men sprang up the remaining stairs. A shot rangout as Milosh flung himself into the room, with Marco close behind him,and when Burton stood upon the floor, he found himself in the thick of afurious _melee_ that gave him no time to take in the scene.
Of the men in that upper room, only two had been awake--the Bulgarianofficer and one of the troopers. When their conversation wasinterrupted by the sounds from below, the trooper had leant over to seewhat was happening. It was he that had fallen to Milosh's knife. Theshot had been fired by the officer, and the other men, aroused by thenoise, had disengaged themselves from the horse rugs beneath which theyhad been sleeping, and were now crowding in confusion to repel theunexpected attack. Only half awake, some of them had not even seizedtheir arms. Behind them towered the bulky form of the second Germanofficer who had led them earlier in the day. He alone had his witsabout him. Shouting orders and curses, he threw a swift glance at thethree intruders, then sprang to the lamp hanging from a bracket on thewall, and dashed it to the floor.
But this move, upon which he had calculated to assist the defence,giving the men time to collect their sleep-dulled senses and regain theadvantage of numbers, turned in fact to their undoing. The darknesslasted only an instant. Then Burton whipped out his electric torch.The lamp had illuminated both parties alike; but now the electric beamdazzled the eyes of the Bulgarians while leaving their assailants dimand indistinct.
Burton could never afterwards clearly recall the incidents of the fight.The hollow tower rang with shots, fierce shouts, and even moresignificant cries. His one abiding impression was the Berserker fury ofold Marco. With knife in one hand and revolver in the other, the Serbflung himself upon the foes, his stalwart form seeming to be everywhereat once. Even his heroic ancestor could never have disposed of more ofthe traditional enemy in equal time. Milosh fought with the furygenerated by his recent wrongs, accompanying every knife-thrust with ayell of triumph. Some of the Bulgars threw themselves down, and triedto crawl towards the trap-door. But Burton, holding his ground there,cut off their escape, and while his torch lit up the scene for hisfriends, he assisted them with his revolver whenever he could do sowithout risk to them.
Long as it appeared to those engaged in it, the struggle was in realitya short one. Taken unawares, the Bulgars were no match for theirassailants, nerved by desperate necessity. At the last, when the dinhad somewhat diminished, Burton staggered under the impact of a largeform, and saved himself from being hurled down the staircase only by astiffening of the muscles and a dexterous back-throw over his thrust-outknee. He stooped and grappled his fallen assailant.
"I surrender!" gurgled a panting voice in German.
The officer's revolver had slipped from his grasp at the moment when,tripping over one of the Bulgars, he lurched against Burton. The latterkicked it down the staircase. There was silence now in the upper room.Burton flashed his torch around it. Marco and Milosh stood pantingabove their prostrate foes. It seemed that of all the party only theGerman officer was left alive. But the electric beam fell on oneshivering wretch cowering behind a trestle table in the far corner.Milosh instantly dashed towards him, and Burton had much ado to persuadethe infuriated Serb that, the officer having surrendered, the fight wasnow at an end. Old Marco had sunk to the floor, exhausted by his effortsand his wounds, unheeded in the heat of the strife. The silence wasbroken only by the champing and pawing of the frightened horses below.
Burton was tying up the prisoners, Milosh was collecting the arms of theslain, when old Marco suddenly exclaimed--
"Monsieur, there are only eight!"
The words were scarcely out of his mouth when a shot rang out below, andthe boy's voice shouted an alarm. Leaving the others to complete hiswork, Burton dashed down the staircase to the doorway, just in time tosee two men sprinting along beyond the wall in the direction of thewaiting cart. Young Marco babbled an explanation of their presenceexcitedly in his own tongue, but Burton could not wait for explanations;it was enough that two of the enemy's party had been outside the tower,probably _en vedette_ to the south, and were now speeding towards thenorth and their main body. No doubt they had heard the uproar, guessedwhat had happened, and run off to carry the news.
Burton at once dashed after them, anxious about the safety of hisfriends at the cart, even more than abou
t the peril of the whole partyif the enemy's march should be hastened. Young Marco flew along at hisheels. But the fugitives had had too long a start. Even the beam ofthe torch failed to discover them. Immediately after the torch flashedthere was the report of a revolver, and Burton ran at break-neck pacedown the rugged track. He came to the cart.
"Gone away!" cried Enderby.
"You're not hurt?"
"It was Nuta's revolver. We heard some one coming, but didn't knowwhether friend or foe until you flashed your torch. Then I guessed.But two men were just on us then; they swerved to avoid the cart, anddashed away beyond us there. The woman was quick, but it was too darkto aim, and I'm afraid they've both got clear."
"That's a pity. They'll report that we've got the tower, and theBulgars may swarm up in an hour or two. We must get you out of harm'sway."
He made signs to Marco that he wished the cart to be driven up at once.The boy whipped up the oxen, and the vehicle lumbered away withHildenheim trudging disconsolately behind. At the gate in the wall theymet old Marco.
"Let the woman and the boy go on with your wounded friend," he said toBurton. "They cannot help us; why should we endanger them? Moreover,they would then save the goods in my cart."
"As you please," said Burton. "But you yourself will hold to youragreement, and help us to check the enemy as long as we can?"
"Assuredly, and Milosh Nikovich will remain with me."
But when the matter was put to Nuta, she resolutely refused to leave theold man.
"It is well, my daughter," he said, laying his hand on her shoulder."We will live or die together."
This being decided, they resolved to utilise the cart in the defence ofthe position. The more valuable parts of its load were removed,together with the British machine-gun, and carried into the tower. Thecart was then drawn across the gateway to block it up, and the oxen weretaken some distance away to the south, and tethered in a bush-covereddell. Meanwhile Milosh had cleared the upper room, and made some effortto obliterate the traces of the fray. There the party took up theirquarters. They were all utterly weary. It was perhaps unlikely thatthe enemy would arrive before the morning, but Burton and the two Serbsarranged to take turns at watching through the night. What preparationscould be made to meet an attack must be left until at least a partialrest had restored their exhausted energies.