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Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War. Henty George Alfred
Читать онлайн.Название Won By the Sword : a tale of the Thirty Years' War
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Автор произведения Henty George Alfred
Жанр Зарубежная классика
Издательство Public Domain
“We will see if the other streets are similarly guarded.”
This was found to be so, sentries being placed in every street running down to the wall in this quarter.
“So far so good, Paolo. I do not think that matters could have been better for us. The next thing is to buy a tool with which we can wrench open a door or the shutter of a window; but a door will be best, because we could not work at a shutter without running the risk of being seen by a sentinel, while in a doorway we should be screened from observation. These houses in the Strada Vecchia are old, and the doors ought not to give us much trouble.”
“Some of these old locks are very strong, master. I should think that it would be easier to cut out one of the panels than to force the door open.”
“Possibly it would, but it is not an easy thing to get the saw to work. We should have to bore a hole large enough for the saw to go through before we could use it. However, we will buy both a saw and a crowbar; as they are both things that are useful to woodcutters, your buying them will not appear suspicious, nor will the purchase of an auger, but we had better get them at different shops.”
Leaving that part of the town they re-entered the streets where business was being carried on as usual.
“We won’t buy the things until late in the afternoon, Paolo. There would be no advantage in dragging them about all day.”
They sauntered about the streets for some hours, then Paolo went into a small baker’s and bought two loaves of coarse bread. At another shop he purchased some cheese, and with these they sat down on a stone bench in the principal square and leisurely ate their food and looked on at the crowd, which consisted principally of soldiers, Spanish veterans, stiff in carriage and haughty in manner, together with others, horse and foot, belonging to the contingent of the Duke of Milan, an ally of the Spanish. Among these were townspeople, the younger ones chatting with each other or with ladies of their acquaintance; the middle aged and older men talking gravely together as they walked up and down.
Among these there was an air of gloom and depression. The state of panic in which the troops of Prince Thomas, who had marched out confident that they were about to annihilate the French, had returned, and the knowledge that the Marquis of Leganez had also failed, had created a feeling of the deepest disquiet among that portion of the population who had taken a leading part in throwing off the authority of the duchess and in acknowledging that of Prince Thomas. They had regarded her cause as lost, but the vigorous steps that France was taking to assist her had caused uneasiness; and if, while as yet a comparatively small force had arrived, these had shown so bold a front, had captured Chieri in the face of a powerful army, had revictualled Casale, had defeated Prince Thomas and forced their way past the array of Leganez, it might well be that in the spring, when reinforcements reached them, they might even defeat the Spaniards and lay siege to Turin itself. The boys remained where they were until it began to grow dusk, when, after buying at three shops a saw, a crowbar, and an auger, they went and sat down on a doorway in a quiet street until eight o’clock. Then they took their way to the Strada Vecchia. It was entirely deserted. Lights showed in one or two of the windows, but, except that they could hear the tread of the nearest sentry, all was silent. Taking off their wooden shoes they moved cautiously along, keeping close to the houses. The fourth they came to had an unusually deep doorway, and they decided at once that this would suit their purpose. First they tried with the crowbar, but the lock held firmly.
“We will try another way, Paolo. If the door yields, it will go with a crash, and the sentry might come down to see what had caused the noise. We had better take out this lower panel; we shall want four holes bored touching each other to make one large enough for the saw to enter.”
The wood was of oak, and it took Paolo fully five minutes to make the holes.
“Now give me the auger,” Hector said when it was found that the hole was large enough for the saw to pass through.
“I will begin at the bottom of the panel while you saw away at the top.”
Paolo had done his share by the time the holes along the bottom were ready for the saw.
“Now you take the auger again,” Hector said. “We have not done half our work yet. The holes must be made on each side. There is no turning the saw.”
It took them an hour and a half of hard work before the last cut was completed and the panel fell forward.
“You go in first, Paolo. I will follow you, and will wedge the panel into its place again with some of the chips that the auger has cut out. No one has passed since we began, and if anyone did come along before morning he would not be likely to notice that the panel was gone. Still it is as well to avoid all risk.”
As soon as the panel was replaced they mounted the stairs. Before beginning they had seen that there were no lights in any of the windows, and feeling sure that the house was deserted they groped their way upstairs without hesitation until they reached the attics in the sloping roof. They entered one of these facing the street, opened the casement, in which oiled paper took the place of glass, and stepped down on to the parapet. Their course was now easy. The divisions between the houses were marked by walls some six feet high extending from the edge of the parapet over the roof. They were able to climb these, however, without having to use their cord, one helping the other up and then being assisted by him. They had left the cooking pan and their tools, with the exception of the crowbar, behind them, and had fastened their wooden shoes round their necks. The sun during the day had melted the snow that had fallen in the morning, but light flakes were again beginning to come down fast.
“I don’t care how hard it snows as long as it keeps on,” Hector said in a low voice in answer to an exclamation from Paolo when the first flake fell upon his face. “The harder the better, for in that case no sentry could see us half a dozen paces away. There is another advantage. The wind is from the north, and we have only to keep the driving snow on our right cheeks to make our way straight to the fortress, whereas with an overcast sky on such a dark night as this we should very soon lose all idea of the direction that we were going in.”
Being obliged to use great caution to avoid noise while getting over the walls, it took them half an hour to reach the end of the street. They had, while waiting before commencing their operations, twisted one of their sashes, and then wound it round the hook so thickly that this would fall almost noiselessly upon the ground. The snow prevented them from seeing six feet below them, but they felt sure that there must be a narrow lane between the house and the wall. They had during the day bought a length, equal to that of their rope, of strong string.
“I have got it as you ordered it, master,” Paolo said as they came out of the shop, “but it would never bear our weight.”
“I think it might do in case of necessity,” Hector said. “In fact, I am sure it would. It does not require a great thickness of new cord to hold a man’s weight; but I don’t want it for that.”
Paolo walked silently along for some time, and then said: “If it is not wanted to carry our weight, master, I cannot think what it is wanted for.”
“It is wanted to get the hook down with. You see when we get down into the street there would be little chance of getting the hook off its hold. We shall most likely want it again, and certainly we shall want the rope. I have been puzzling over it, and I think I have found a way at last. My idea is to fasten this thin rope to the point of the hook, then, on pulling upon it the point will rise until it gets level with the top of the wall on which it is fixed, and we can then shake it down without difficulty. I don’t know whether it will act, but I think that it ought to do so; an upward pull at the point must, I should think, lift it as far as the edge.”
“I should think that it must,” Paolo agreed. “I should never have thought of that.”
“We