By Conduct and Courage 15 – Henty · Library Across
Literature · Historical Fiction
By Conduct and Courage 15Escaped
18
Literature · Historical Fiction
By Conduct and Courage 15
Escaped
HentyEnglish
So he travelled across France, avoiding all large towns. Once or twice he got into trouble with a pompous village official on account of his not holding a pedlar’s permit; but the feeling of the people was strong in favour of a man who was selling goods for the benefit of poor prisoners, and, of course, he always had some plausible story ready to account for its absence. At last he came to Dunkirk. He had saved money as he went, and on his arrival there had eight louis in his pocket. He took up a lodging at a little cabaret, and, leaving his box, which was now almost empty, strolled down to the harbour. Fishing-boats were coming in and going out. Observing that they were not very well manned, probably because many of the men had been drafted into the navy, he selected one which had but four men, a number barely sufficient to raise the heavy lug-sail, and when she made fast alongside the quay he went on board.
“Do you want a hand?” he said, “I am not accustomed to the sea, but I have no doubt I could haul on a rope as well as others.”
“Where do you come from,” one asked, “and how is it that you have escaped the conscription?”
“I am exempt,” he said, “as the only son of my mother. I come from Champagne.”
“But why have you left?”
“I came away because the girl I was engaged to jilted me for a richer suitor, and I could not stop there to see her married; I should have cut his throat or my own. So I have tramped down here to see if I can find some work for a time.”
“You are a fool for your pains,” the skipper said. “No girl is worth it.”
“Ah, you never could have been jilted! If you had been you wouldn’t think so lightly of it.”
“Well, mates, what do you say? Shall we take this young fellow? He looks strong and active, and I dare say will suit us.”
“At any rate we can give him a trial for a voyage or two.”
“Well, you may begin by helping us up into the town with our fish. We have had a heavy catch to-day.”
Will at once shouldered a basket and went up with them to the market-place.
“We are going to get a drink,” the fisherman said. “Let us see how well you can sell for us. You must get a franc a kilogramme. Here are scales.”
For a couple of hours Will sold fish, attracting, by his pleasant face, buyers who might otherwise have passed him; and when the fishermen returned they were pleased to find that he had almost sold out their stock, and accounted for his take to the last sou.
“I have been watching you all the time,” the captain said, “though you did not know. I wanted to see if you were honest, and, now that I have a proof of it, will take you willingly. The pay is twelve francs a week and a tenth share in the sales. The boat takes a third, I take two, and the sailors take one apiece, and you will have half a share besides your pay till you know your business. Do you agree to that?”
“Yes,” Will said.
Accordingly he settled down to the work of a fisherman, and gave great satisfaction. His mates were indeed astonished at the rapidity with which he learned his work, and congratulated themselves upon the acquisition of so promising a recruit.
A month after he had joined the smack a ship-of-war was seen sailing along three miles from shore. The fishermen were half-way between her and the land, and paid no great attention to her, knowing that British men-of-war did not condescend to meddle with small fishing-boats. Will waited until the captain and one of the men were below; then, suddenly pushing the hatch to and throwing a coil of rope over it, he produced from his pockets a brace of pistols which he had bought at Dunkirk out of the stock of money he had had in his pocket when he was captured, and ordered the man at the helm to steer for the frigate. The man let go the tiller at once, and he and his companion prepared to make a rush upon Will. But the sight of the levelled pistols checked them.
“You will come to no harm,” Will said. “You have but to put me on board, and I warrant you shall be allowed to depart unmolested. I am an English officer. Now, down with the helm without hesitation, or I will put a bullet through your head; and do you, Jacques, sit down by his side.”
Sullenly the men obeyed his orders, and the boat went dancing through the water in a direction which, Will calculated, would enable him to cut off the frigate. In the meantime the captain and his companion, unable to understand what was going on, were thumping at the hatchway. Will, however, paid no attention to them, but stood on it, keeping his eye upon the men in the stern. Twenty minutes brought them close to the frigate, which, on seeing a small boat making for her, threw her sails aback to wait for it. As they came close a rope was thrown; Will grasped it and swung himself up the side, leaving the boat to drift away. The sailors stood looking in surprise at him, but Will went straight up to the first lieutenant.
“I beg to report myself as having come on board, sir. I am, or rather was, a midshipman on board the Tartar. I have just escaped from Verdun.”
“Do you really mean it?” the lieutenant said. “I thought only one or two English prisoners had ever made their escape from there.”
“That is so, sir, and I am one of the fortunate ones.”
“But how on earth have you managed to pass right through France?”
“I was detained three months at Toulon, sir, and there was allowed to buy some French books. I was then a month on the way to Verdun, and five months there. During that time I practised French incessantly, and picked up enough to pass muster. At last, thanks to a French girl, I succeeded in getting a disguise and climbing over the wall, and passed through France as a pedlar with wares made by the prisoners.”
“Come with me to the captain’s cabin. He will, I am sure, be glad to hear your story. How were you captured?”
“In the attack the Tartar made on a battery on one of the Isles d’Hyères I was shot through the leg and left behind in the retreat.”
“Yes, I heard of that affair, and a most unfortunate one it was. You caught it hot there, and no mistake!”
The captain listened to the story with great interest, and then said: “Well, Mr. Gilmore, I congratulate you very heartily on getting out of that terrible prison. I am rather short of officers, and will rate you as midshipman until I have an opportunity of sending you home. I have no doubt your brother officers will manage to rig you out.”
The lieutenant went out with Will and introduced him to the officers of the ship, to whom he had again to tell the tale of his adventure. “Now come down below to our berth,” the senior midshipman said, “and we will see what we can do to rig you out. We lost one of our number the other day, and I have no doubt the purser’s clerk will let you take what you require out of his kit if you give him a bill on your paymaster.”
Fortunately the clothes fitted Will, so he took over the whole of the effects, as there was sufficient standing to his account on the Tartar to pay for them, in addition to the pay that would accrue during the time of his captivity.
He learned that they were on their way to the Texel, where they were to cruise backwards and forwards to watch the flotilla of boats that Napoleon was accumulating there for the invasion of England. It was arduous work, for the heavy fogs rendered it necessary to use the greatest caution, as there were many dangerous shoals and currents in the vicinity.
One dark night, when they thought that they were in deep water, the ship grounded suddenly. The tide was running out, and though they did everything in their power they could not get her off.
“If we have but another couple of hours,” the first lieutenant said, “we shall float, as the tide will be turning very soon. But it is getting light already, and we are likely to have their gun-boats out in no time.”
His anticipation turned out correct, for six gun-boats were soon seen making their way out of the Texel. When within range they opened fire. The Artemis replied with such guns as she could bring to bear on them. She suffered a good deal of damage, but the tide had turned and was flowing fast. Hawsers had been run out at the stern and fastened to the capstan, and the bars were now manned, and the sailors put their whole strength into the work. At last there was a movement; the ship quivered from stem to stern, and then slipped off into deep water. A joyous cheer burst from the crew. But they did not waste time. They ran at once to their guns, and opened a broadside fire on the gun-boats. One was disabled and taken in tow by two others; and the rest, finding themselves no match for the frigate, sheered off and re-entered the Texel.
The Artemis continued to cruise to and fro for upwards of a month. One evening the first lieutenant said to Will: “The captain is worried because we were told to expect a messenger with news as to the state of affairs at Amsterdam and in Holland generally, and none has arrived. There is no doubt that they are adding to the number of gun-boats there, and also to the flat-bottomed boats for the conveyance of troops. The delay is most annoying, especially as we have orders to sail for England with the news as soon as we get it, and we are all heartily sick of this dull and dreary work.”
“I will volunteer to land and communicate with some of the country-people near Amsterdam,” Will said, “if the captain would like it. We know that their sympathies are all with us, and I have no doubt that I could get what information is required. If my offer is accepted I should greatly prefer to go in uniform, for, while I am quite ready to run the risk of being taken prisoner, I have certainly no desire to be captured out of uniform, as I should be liable to be hanged as a spy.”
The first lieutenant mentioned the matter to the captain, who at once embraced the offer, for he, too, was sick of the work, in which no honour was to be obtained, and in which the risks were great, as the coast was a dangerous one. He sent for Will and said: “I hear, Mr. Gilmore, that you are willing to volunteer to land and gain information. Have you considered the risks?”
“I know that, of course, there is a certain amount of danger, sir, but do not consider it to be excessive. At any rate I am ready to try it.”
“I am very much obliged to you,” the captain said, “for we are all anxious to get away from this place; but mind, I cannot but consider that the risk is considerable. With our glasses we constantly see bodies of horsemen riding along the sands, and have sometimes noticed solitary men, no doubt sentinels; and it is probably because of them that the messenger we expected has not been able to put out. I will give you his address. He lives within half a mile of Amsterdam, in a house near the shore of the Texel. When are you prepared to start?”
“This evening if you wish it, sir.”
“Well, I think the sooner you go the better. If you land to-night I will send the boat ashore to the same spot to-morrow night. They will lie off two or three hundred yards, and come to your whistle.”
“Very well, sir.”
Will had no preparations to make for his journey. He received a letter from the captain authorizing the man to give every information in his power to the bearer, and with this in his pocket he took his place in the boat after dark and was rowed towards the shore. The Artemis was four miles from the land when he embarked in the gig, the oars were muffled, and the men were enjoined to row with the greatest care when they approached the land. An officer went in charge, and the Artemis was to show a light an hour after they started, so that they could find their way back to her. Will chatted in a whisper to the officer till they were, he judged, within half a mile of the land. Then they rowed on in perfect silence till the keel grated on the sands. At that moment a musket shot was heard from a sand-hill a couple of hundred yards away. Will leapt out and ran at full speed for some little distance, and then threw himself down. The shots were repeated from point to point, and men ran down to the water’s edge and fired after the retiring boat.
Presently the noise ceased. Whether he had been seen or not he could not say, but he hoped that, although the sentinel had made out the boat against the slight surf that broke on the beach, he had not been able to see him leave it. He got up cautiously, and, stooping low, moved off until he was quite certain that he was well beyond the line of sentries. Once or twice he heard the galloping of parties of men, evidently attracted by the sound of firing, but none of them came very near him, and he ran on without interruption. In two hours he saw lights before him, and knew that he was approaching Amsterdam. He turned to the right, and went on until he came to a wide sheet of water, which must, he knew, be the Texel. Then he lay down and slept for some hours. At the first gleam of dawn he was on his feet again, and made his way to a farmhouse which exactly agreed with the description that had been given him. He knocked at the door, and it was presently opened by a man in his shirt-sleeves.
“Are you Meinheer Johan Van Duyk?” he asked.
“I am,” the man said. “Who are you?”
“I am the bearer of this letter from the captain of the Artemis, who had expected you to communicate with him.”
“Come in,” the man said. “We are early risers here, and it is advisable that no one should see you. Yes,” he went on when the door was closed, “I have been trying to communicate, but the cordon of sentries along the shore has been so close, and the watch so vigilant, that it has been quite impossible for me to come out. I suppose you are an officer of that ship?”
“Yes.”
“Do you speak Dutch?”
“No, I speak French.”
The man read the letter.
“That is all right; I can furnish you with all these particulars when you leave to-night, but of course in that uniform you must lie dark until then. For some reason or other the French have suspicions of me, and they have paid me several visits. Were you seen to land last night?”
“I do not know. They fired on the boat, and I expect they have a shrewd idea that somebody was put on shore.”
“In that case,” the man said, “it is probable that they will search my house to-day. By this time they know every little corner of it, so I cannot see where I am to conceal you.”
“I observed a stack behind your house,” suggested Will.
“Yes, there is one.”
“Well, if you would at once get a ladder, and take off some of the thatch and make a hole, I could get into it, and you could then replace the thatch long before the soldiers are likely to come out from Amsterdam.”
“Yes, I could do that, and I could hand you in a bottle of schnapps and some water and bread and meat.”
“That will do very well. I suppose you have men?”
“Yes, I have two, and both of them are true Dutchmen, and may be trusted. I will give you at once the list of the gun-boats and flat-boats I have made ready to send on the first opportunity. I shall be glad to get it out of the house, for, though it is well hidden, they search so strictly that they might find it. They broke all my wainscots, pulled up the flooring, and almost wrecked the house the last time they came; and I don’t suppose they will be less vigilant this time.”
He went to the cupboard and brought out some food and drink.
“Now, sir,” he said, “if you will eat this I will call up my two men and set to work at once to get your hiding-place made, so that you may be safely lodged in it before any people are about.”
Will was by no means sorry to take breakfast. He ate the food leisurely, and just as he had finished Van Duyk came in to say that the place was ready for him.
It was not a large hole, but sufficient to let him lie down at full length under the thatch. He climbed up the ladder the men had used and got into his nest, and after Van Duyk had handed him in the provisions he had promised, the two men set to work with all speed to replace the thatch. It was made thin, so that he had no difficulty in raising it, and could even with his finger make a tiny opening through which he could look. The hay that had been removed to make room for him was carried away and thrown down in the mangers for the cows, so that there was nothing to show that the stack had recently been touched.
Two hours later Will heard the trampling of horses, and two officers, with a troop of cavalry, rode up.
“I bear a warrant to search your house, Van Duyk,” Will heard one of them say.
“You have searched it three times already, meinheer, but you can, of course, search it again if you wish. You will certainly find no more now than you did then.”
“A spy landed last night, Van Duyk, and it is more than probable that he is taking shelter here.”
“I don’t know why you should suspect me more than anyone else. I am a quiet man, meddling in no way with public matters, and attending only to my own business.”
“It is all very well to say that; we have certain information about you.”
“I am well known to my neighbours as a peaceable man,” Van Duyk repeated, “and think it monstrous that I should be so interfered with and harried.”
“Well, we don’t want any talk. Now, men, set to work and search every corner of the house, not only where a man could be hidden, but even a paper. These Dutchmen are traitors to a man, and if this fellow is no worse than others he is at least as bad.”
For an hour and a half Will, in his hiding-place, heard the sound of smashing panels and furniture, and the pulling up of floors. At the end of that time the troopers left the house and mounted, the officer saying: “You have deceived us this time, old traitor, but we will catch you yet.”
“Catch me if you can. I tell you that if you level the house to the ground you will find nothing.”
After they had ridden off, Van Duyk went out to the haystack.
“They have gone for the present, meinheer, but you had better stay where you are. They are quite capable of coming back again in the hope that you may have come out from some hiding-place they may have overlooked.”
Indeed, an hour later the troop galloped up again, only to find the Dutchman smoking placidly on a seat before his house. Another search was made, but equally without success, and then, with much use of strong language, the party rode off.
“I think you can come down safely now,” the Dutchman said to Will.
“Thank you, but I don’t wish to run the least risk. I will remain where I am till it gets dark; I can very well sleep the time away till then. I sha’n’t get much sleep to-night.”
Not until it was quite dark did Van Duyk and his men come with a ladder to remove the thatch again. It took but a minute to extricate Will from his hole.
“We will get that filled up and mended before morning,” Van Duyk said. “Now, can I let you have a horse?”
“No, thank you, I have but twelve miles to walk. I noted the road as I came, and can find the spot where I landed without difficulty.”
With thanks for the Dutchman’s kindness, and handing him the reward with which the captain had entrusted him, Will started on his walk. When he approached the spot it was still four hours from the time at which the boat was to arrive, and seeing a light in a cottage he went and looked in at the window. Only a girl and an old woman were there, so he lifted the latch and went in. “I am an English officer,” he said, “will you let me sit down by your fire for a couple of hours? The cold is piercing outside.”
The old woman answered in broken French, bidding him welcome, and he sat down and began to talk to her. Her stock of French was small, and the conversation soon languished. Presently the girl leapt to her feet and exclaimed in Dutch: “Soldiers!” The old woman translated, and Will then heard the trampling of horses. He jumped up, snatched a long cloak of the old woman’s from the wall, and threw it round him. He also took one of her caps that hung there and put it on his head. It was large, with frills, and almost covered his face. He had but just time to reseat himself by the fire and cower over it, as if warming his hands, when the door opened and a French officer entered. At the sight of the two apparently old women bending over the fire, and the girl sitting knitting, he stopped.
“Madam,” he said courteously, “it is my duty to search your house. It is believed that a spy who landed here last night may be returning to-night.”
“You can look,” the old woman said in her quavering voice, “as much as you like; you will not find any spy here.”
As the cottage consisted of only two rooms the search was quickly effected.
“Thank you, madam!” the French officer said; “I am quite satisfied, and am sorry I have incommoded you.”
“That is a civil fellow,” Will said, as the sound of the retreating hoofs was heard. “Some of these fellows would have blustered and sworn and turned the whole place upside down. Well, madam, I am deeply obliged to you for the shelter you have given me and the risk you have run for my sake. Here is a guinea; it is all the gold I have with me, but it may buy some little comfort for you.”
“It will buy me enough turf to last me all the winter,” the old woman said. “My son is a fisherman who is sometimes weeks from home, and our supply of turf is running low. Thank you very much! though I would gladly have done it without reward, for we all hate the French.”
Will went out cautiously and made his way down to the shore, listening at every step for some sound that would tell of the presence of a sentry. He lay down near the edge of the sea and watched. At last he saw a dim shape lying stationary a hundred yards out. He gave a low whistle, but this was almost instantaneously followed by the report of a musket within fifty yards of him. He did not hesitate, but with a shout to the boat ran into the water and struck out towards it. Another musket was fired, fifty yards to the left, and the signal was, as before, repeated by sentry after sentry till the sound died away in the distance. Almost immediately the galloping of horses could be heard. The boat rowed in to meet him, and as he scrambled on board a volley of carbines rang out from the shore. The sailors bent to their oars and, although the firing continued for some time, they knew that the enemy had lost sight of them. A quarter of an hour later the sound of oars was heard. “Stop rowing,” the lieutenant in command of the boat ordered, “and don’t move.”
In about three minutes a large rowing-boat, manned by a number of oars, could be made out passing across ahead of them. The ship’s boat, however, was so small an object in comparison that it remained unnoticed. They waited till the beat of oars ceased in the distance and then rowed on again.
“That was a narrow escape,” the lieutenant muttered. “Evidently she was lying in wait to catch you, and if she had been fifty yards nearer to us she must have made us out. I think we are safe now, for the course she was taking will not carry her anywhere near the frigate. At any rate we have a good start, and I have a lantern here to show in case we are chased.”
They had rowed two miles farther when they again heard the sound of oars.
“We must row for it now,” the lieutenant said. “The frigate is not much more than a mile away.”
The men bent to their oars, and the lieutenant raised and lowered his lantern three times. This signal was almost immediately answered by the boom of a gun from the frigate. For a time the enemy continued the pursuit, but on a second gun being fired they ceased rowing.
“They must know that the frigate can’t see them,” the lieutenant said, “but they have no doubt come to the conclusion that they cannot overtake us before we get to her. Anyhow it is certain that they have given it up as a bad job.”
In ten more minutes they were alongside the frigate.
“Is Mr. Gilmore with you?” a voice asked from above.
“Yes, I am here, sir, safe and sound.”
“That is good news,” the first lieutenant said, as Will stepped on deck. “The captain was afraid, after he had let you go, that he had sacrificed you, and that, going as you did in your uniform, you would be certain to be captured.”
“No, sir; I had two narrow escapes, but got off all right, and have brought you the list of gun-boats and row-boats that you required. I am afraid, though, that it will require careful opening, for I had to swim off to the boat.”
“That will not matter as long as we can read it,” the lieutenant said. “Now you had better come to the captain and hand it to him.”
“I am heartily glad to see you, Mr. Gilmore,” the captain said. “I have been very uneasy about you, and I really hardly expected you to return to-night. We knew that the boat was being chased, by the lights Lieutenant Falcon showed, but I feared that she was coming back without you. Now tell me what has happened to you. We knew by the firing that French sentries saw the boat come to land last night.”
Will gave a full account of his adventures.
“Well done indeed, Mr. Gilmore! I shall have much pleasure in reporting your conduct. Now let us examine the list.”
The words were a good deal blurred by water, but were still quite legible.
“They are stronger in gun-boats than I expected,” the captain said when he had read it. “If they had had an ounce of pluck about them they would have come out and fought us. A thirty-two-gun frigate is no match for sixteen gunboats. Well, now that we have got this despatch, we can make for Sheerness at once. Have her headed for that port, Mr. Falcon, if you please. We won’t lose a moment before making for England.”
