THE REMINISCENCES OF CARL SCHURZ
draughts, and my brain remained entirely clear in spite of it.
After we had finished our meal Adam took the floor. “I have a widowed cousin in the town,” he said. “Her house is not far from the entrance to the sewer. To reach it we have only to go through a kitchen garden or two. We might hide ourselves there in the barn until we find something better.”
This proposition had our approval, and we resolved to make the attempt. At the same moment something occurred to me that was depressing in the extreme. I remembered that during the siege our garrison had a sentinel close to the entrance of the sewer. If this post was occupied by the Prussians too, then we sat in the sewer between two Prussian guards. I communicated my apprehension to my companions. But what was to be done? Possibly the Prussians had not occupied that post. Perhaps we might slip by. In any case, nothing else remained to us than to make the attempt.
When we left our bench to begin our retreat, we heard the church clock outside strike three. I went ahead and soon reached the last manhole. I availed myself of the opportunity to stretch myself out a little, when something happened that at the first moment appeared very unfortunate. I had used my short carbine in moving through the canal in a bent position, as a sort of crutch. When I lifted myself up the carbine fell from my arm into the water and caused a loud splash. “Hello!” cried a voice just above me. “Hello! There is something in this hole; come here.” At the same moment a bayonet descended like a probe through the grating which covered the manhole. I heard it strike against the iron rods in time to duck myself and thus avoid being touched by it. “Now out quickly!” I whispered to my companions, “or we are lost.” With a few hasty paces we reached the end of the sewer.
[ 222 ]
