d,
and snapped his lock as a signal, but of course without discharging his
musket, and in a minute he was not only gagged but bound by O'Brien,
with my assistance. Leaving him there, we proceeded to the rampart, and
fixing the crow-bar again, O'Brien descended; I followed him, and found
him in the river, hanging on to the rope; the umbrella was opened and
turned upwards; the preparation made it resist the water, and, as
previously explained to me by O'Brien, I had only to hold on at arm's
length to two beckets which he had affixed to the point of the umbrella,
which was under water. To the same part O'Brien had a tow-line, which
taking in his teeth, he towed me down the stream to about a hundred
yards clear of the fortress, where we landed. O'Brien was so exhausted,
that for a few minutes he remained quite motionless; I also was benumbed
with the cold.
"Peter," said he "thank God we have succeeded so far; now we must push
on as far as we can, for we shall have daylight in two hours."
O'Brien took out his flask of spirits, and we both drank a half tumbler
at least, but we should not, in our state, have been affected with a
bottle. We now walked along the riverside till we fell in with a small
craft, with a boat towing astern; O'Brien swam to it, and cutting the
painter without getting in, towed it on shore. The oars were
fortunately in the boat. I got in, we shoved off, and rowed away down
the stream, till the dawn of day. "All's right, Peter; now we'll land.
This is the forest of Ardennes." We landed, replaced the oars in the
boat, and pushed her off into the stream, to induce people to suppose
that she had broken adrift, and then hastened into the thickest of the
wood. It rained hard; I shivered, and my teeth chattered with the cold,
but there was no help for it. We again took a dram of spirits, and,
worn out with fatigue and excitement, soon fell last asleep upon a bed
of leaves which we had collected together.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.
GRAVE CONSEQUENCES OF GRAVITATION--O'BRIEN ENLISTS HIMSELF AS A
GENDARME, AND TAKES CHARGE OF ME--WE ARE DISCOVERED, AND OBLIGED TO RUN
FOR IT--THE PLEASURES OF A WINTER BIVOUAC.
It was not until noon that I awoke, when I found that O'Brien had
covered me more than a foot deep with leaves, to protect me from the
weather. I felt quite warm and comfortable; my clothes had dried on me,
but without giving me cold. "How very kind of you, O'Brien!" said I.
"Not a bit,
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