I have been many a time surprised to observe the strange volatility
of sailormen. They will pass in an instant from jollity to woe,
and, when just snatched from the jaws of death, will give the rein
to jests and sportiveness as if life were nothing but a perpetual
holiday. Some of my comrades were perfectly hilarious, and began to
talk and laugh as freely as they might in the forecastle, far from
a hostile shore. I had to warn them very earnestly against so
imperiling the safety of us all; but Joe Punchard's admonitions
were more effective than mine, for in a harsh whisper he roundly
abused them, threatening with many offensive terms to leave them to
their fate if they did not instantly cease and obey me as their
captain.
Their intelligence being penetrated with some notion of the
exceeding danger of our situation, the noisy ones kept silence and
agreed to follow my behests. This threw on me a task of great
hazard and responsibility, for we were strangers in a strange land,
and I had no knowledge of our whereabouts, nor a clearly defined
plan of action. Gathering them in a knot about me, so that all
could hear my lowest whisper, I put to them the situation as I
conceived it.
"By God's mercy we have succeeded thus far," I said, "but the
greatest of our dangers lie still before us. I know nothing of this
country, nor does any of us, and in a few hours day will dawn, our
escape will be discovered, and there will be a hue and cry after us
for miles around. What we want to do is to make the coast and
borrow a boat in which we may set sail for England."
"Ay, ay," was the general grunt.
"Ay, indeed," I went on, "but we know not in what direction the
coast lies, nor would it be safe for us to attempt to reach it yet.
When our absence is known, the Frenchmen will assuredly suspect
that the coast will be our aim, and they will have it watched for
miles, so that even if we found a boat and got to sea (in which we
might fail), we should certainly be espied and chased and caught.
What we must do, as it seems to me, is to strike into the country
and find a hiding place where we may lie until the first alarm has
passed, and then endeavor by some means to learn of a secluded
fishing hamlet whither we may steal our way by night. Can you
suggest a better plan?"
For a brief space there was silence; then the bosun said:
"If we can not tell the way to the coast, neither can we know if we
be going inland, and so we may stumble into the very danger we
ought to avoid."
"There is the north star above us," I replied, "and by going south
it would appear that we shall go away from the sea. I propose,
then, that we turn our backs on the star and march southward,
trusting to find some wood or perchance some ruin where we may lurk
a day or two."
"And our bellies empty," groaned Tolliday.
"Let us hope not," I said. "We may come upon some fruit gardens
where we can find enough to keep us from starvation. But if we must
fast, then I warrant we, being Englishmen, can endure our pangs for
a day. Time is passing; 'tis gone midnight, if I guess right, and
since move we must, I speak for moving at once."
No other course suggesting itself, we set off, and, having the good
luck to strike a road, we marched along in dogged silence for what
must have been a couple of hours. We passed but one house, and that
was in total darkness, and if any person in it had been awake, our
passage would not have been heard, for we were all barefooted but
three, myself and two others.
After pausing a while to rest, we set off again, and tramped on
until there was a hint of daybreak in the sky. Then, being utterly
weary (for none of us had enjoyed a full night's sleep for months),
we looked about for some spot where we might rest without danger.
We found ourselves between open fields, somewhat cut up by low
stone dykes, but with no buildings or copses that offered even a
temporary shelter. We had perforce to continue on our way, and
about half a mile farther on our eyes were gladdened by the sight
of a large, low, dismantled farmhouse lying somewhat back from the
road. It appeared at first to be a total ruin, and bore the marks
of fire upon its blackened walls: but on entering we discovered one
room that had some portion of a roof over it, and, better still, a
quantity of straw spread about the floor. We were gathering this up
to make rough beds of it, when we perceived a trap door in the
floor, and it occurred to me that if it led down to a dry cellar,
such as were not uncommon in farmhouses in England, this would
prove a more secure refuge than the room on a level with the road.
Lifting the trap door, I found that it was even as I hoped. The
cellar beneath was large, and dimly illuminated through a grating
let into the wall just above the level of the ground. I perceived,
too, that it had a door, so that in the unlikely event of our
re-entrance by the trap door being prevented, we could still escape
into the open. There was straw also in the cellar, and it did not
take us many seconds to decide that here we would lay down our
tired bodies and gain some sleep. My purpose was, after resting, to
go exploring alone, trusting to my knowledge of the French tongue
to procure some food and also to learn something of the lie of the
land, for there must assuredly be a habitation somewhere in the
neighborhood.
We all descended into the cellar, closing the trap door after us,
and gladly stretched our limbs upon the straw. It did not appear
necessary to keep a watch. The farm had clearly not been inhabited
for many years, and there was no reason to fear that our rest would
be disturbed. Even when the pursuit of us should be begun, it was
in the highest degree unlikely that it would tend in this
direction. The road was hard after a period of dry weather, and we
had left no foot tracks to betray us. But as a precaution I went
out by the cellar door, ascended a short flight of steps and made
my way to the upper room again, where I spread some straw on the
trap door, to hide it from any chance visitor. Then I returned to
the cellar. Our fatigue was so great that in a few moments we were
all asleep.
I was awakened by a touch on my arm. I sat bolt upright in an
instant. Runnles was leaning over me, with his finger at his lips.
The other men were already awake, and seeing, I suppose, a look of
inquiry on my face, Runnles whispered:
"I wakened them first, 'cos they was snoring."
And then I became aware that it was precisely the unexpected that
had happened. There were people in the room above. I heard
footsteps and voices, and then felt no little alarm when another
sound reached my ears--a sound that I could not mistake. It was the
sound of muskets being stacked.
We looked at one another in mute dismay. Had our pursuers hit upon
our tracks at once? It seemed scarcely credible. Yet for a minute
or two I waited in a kind of paralysis, expecting the trap door to
open and a posse of armed soldiers to descend. My anxiety on this
score soon vanished, however, for I heard a heavy thump on the trap
door above, and guessed that either something had been thrown upon
it or that one of the intruders had unwittingly chosen it for his
seat. This, with the previous stacking of the arms, seeming to
indicate that the visitors intended to make some stay, and had no
suspicion of our presence.
I determined to set my fears finally at rest (and, I must own, also
to satisfy my curiosity) by stealing out and taking a peep at them,
if they had left the door open. Whispering my comrades to remain
perfectly silent, I slipped off my boots, quickly opened the door,
and went very cautiously round to the front part of the house.
The first object that caught my eyes was a horse standing tethered
in what had been the ruins of a barn adjoining the farmhouse.
Creeping up to the door, which had been left ajar, I peeped in, and
saw a party of French soldiers seated on the floor, eating bread
and sausages, and drinking from little tin cans. My mouth watered
at the sight of this food after more than twelve hours of fasting,
but I was not conscious of this till afterwards. The party
consisted of seven men. One, somewhat apart from the rest (it was
he who had sat himself on the trap door), was clearly an officer.
He was a tall, lean man of some forty years; he had unbuttoned his
coat and laid his hat, in which there was a white cockade, beside
him. At a respectful distance from him sat the others of the party.
For some time they ate their meal in silence, the men, I suppose,
not daring to converse in the presence of their captain. But by and
by the officer, his hunger being some whit appeased, unbent a
little from his dignity and addressed a stout little sergeant among
the party.
"It is twelve years since I was here before, Jules," he said, and
there was a noticeable air of condescension in his tone; it was as
though he did the sergeant a mighty favor in speaking at all.
"Yes, monsieur," said the sergeant, as if humbly inviting him to
continue.
"Yes, twelve years ago," the officer repeated. "I have reason,
truly, to know it again. Those were the days of the Conversions,
Jules. You don't know what the Conversions were? I will tell you.
There were cursed Huguenots in the country then, Jules, bad
citizens, unruly rascals every one of them, and our good king
commanded that they should instantly return to the true faith. Some
of them were obstinate, and they, see you, had to be converted. We
called it conversion by lodgings, and, my faith, it was excellent
sport. They quartered some of us on any household that was
unwilling to obey the king, and there we remained until they saw
the error of their ways.
"My faith! some were hard to convert. The owner of this place, for
instance. We were here for a month, and never lived better in our
lives. The fool! He had a pretty daughter, too, and I fell in love
with her. The farmer objected, and one day had the insolence to
strike me. That was treason, of course, and the least we could do,
especially as he was so obstinate in the matter of his conversion,
was to burn his farm. He shot one of my men while we were at the
work, and--well, we hanged him. That was twelve years ago."
The sergeant laughed. I, who had heard something from my father of
King Lewis' treatment of his Huguenot subjects--of the Dragonnade,
as it was called, and the sufferings of the poor people at the
hands of the brutal soldiery--I, who knew of this, was shocked at
the callous levity of the captain's speech; and I could have struck
the fat, foolish face of the sergeant for his chuckle.
"What fools men are!" the captain went on. "Who would have supposed
that these rascals of deserters would make for the very place where
they would most readily be discovered! But all these peasants are
simpletons. If you, now, were to desert, Jules, you would not
return to Meaux, would you? You are a townsman, and have more
sense. But these peasants--bah! cattle, no more."
I thought the sergeant's laugh at this rang a trifle hollow. He was
not a soft-hearted man in appearance, but perhaps he had some
fellow feeling for poor men dragged from their work at the plough
to serve in the army of the Grand Monarque. His next words
surprised me, for I had not understood the captain's reference to
deserters.
"Shall we give them something to eat, mon capitaine?" he asked.
"Decidedly not," said the officer with an oath. "They have led us a
pretty dance, and what's the good of food to men about to be shot!"
"But they may fall from exhaustion before we reach Rennes,"
suggested the sergeant, "and that may cause delay. They have had
nothing for near twelve hours, mon capitaine, and marching best
part of the time."
"Well, give them a crust," said the captain, lazily throwing
himself back on the straw; "but it is waste, sheer waste."
The sergeant rose and, taking some scraps of food, crossed the room
and disappeared from my sight. I knew now that the deserters of
whom they had spoken were actually in the place with them, and
found myself pitying the fate of men who had had the ill luck to
fall into the hands of so coldly brutal an officer as this captain.
Then I turned about with a start, having the strange feeling--for
I heard nothing--that someone was moving behind me. It was Runnles.
He came towards me stealthily, wearing that meek, shy look of his,
and told me in a whisper that Joe Punchard had sent him to see what
had become of me. At the sight of him a fantastic notion buzzed
into my head. I caught him by the sleeve and whispered eagerly in
his ear, his eyes becoming two round O's with excitement as he
listened. He stole away again, and I turned once more to my
business of eavesdropping.
"They eat like pigs," I heard the captain say to the sergeant, who
had returned to his lair on the straw. "These peasants never lose
the ill manners bred in them. And those English dogs who have
escaped from prison--how do I know they are peasants, too, Jules?"
"I can not tell, mon capitaine," says the sergeant.
"Why, because you may be sure they have done a foolish thing, like
these deserters of ours. They are seamen; depend upon it, they have
made straight for the coast, and we shall soon hear that they have
been taken."
I could not help smiling at the ingenuousness of the captain's
reasoning.
"My faith!" he went on, "I wish we were going from Rennes to St.
Malo instead of from St. Malo to Rennes. I should have loved to
join in the hunt for the rascals, and I doubt not you, Jules, would
be glad enough to get some portion of the reward offered for their
capture. Ah, well! the others will have the luck; but I would give
something to see those English dogs when--"
And here I pushed wide the door.
"Am I permitted to enter, messieurs?" I said in my best French, and
giving the captain a pleasant smile. Lying at full length with his
head on his arms, he could not clearly see me. The men stared at
me, but did not move nor speak, waiting dutifully for their
officer. He raised himself on his elbow.
"Who are you?" he asks, looking me up and down from my bare feet to
my unkempt head.
"I, monsieur," said I steadily, though my heart was thumping at a
furious rate--"I, monsieur, am one of the English dogs--at your
service."
This announcement was sufficiently startling to account for the
temporary paralysis that seemed to have fallen on the party. They
stared at me, speechless. During that moment I had thrown a rapid
glance to my left. The three deserters were lying against the wall;
between them and me were the stacked muskets of the soldiers.
While the men were still fixed in their astonishment, I sprang
three paces to the left, caught up the muskets in both arms, and
dashed towards the door. That released them from the spell; the men
jumped to their feet and rushed after me. What happened to the
captain I learned afterwards from Joe. He suddenly found himself
heaved up into the air: four brawny arms had shoved up the trap
door on which he was lying, my dash for the door having been the
signal I had communicated to them through Runnles. When the officer
came sprawling down on the straw again, some feet away from his
former position, he was pounced on by Joe and the bosun, who made
short work of tying him up with his own sword strap.
Meanwhile the rest of my comrades had run out of the cellar door,
and joined me just in time to receive the charge of the six
Frenchmen who had followed me from the house. Fortunately for us,
what with surprise and haste, the Frenchmen had not drawn their
swords, so that the fight that ensued beneath the ruined wall of
the farm was waged on fairly even terms. And when it comes to a
contest in which nature's weapons are employed, I never yet met
combatants to match sturdy English tars. There were six Frenchmen,
and my comrades (Joe and the bosun being busy with the captain)
numbered seven, but of these Dilly was old and Runnles was small,
and, coming up in the rear of the rest, they two had no part in the
fight. Nor had I, for when they engaged my arms were full of the
muskets; and when I had laid these on the ground I saw that one of
the Frenchmen, evidently foreseeing how the matter must end, left
his fellows and ran fleetly towards the horse, which was looking
with serene indifference at the scene. I sprinted after him; he had
only a few yards' start, and knew that he was pursued, for he
swerved out of the direction in which he was running, seeing, no
doubt, that he would not have time to untether the horse before I
was upon him. He turned aside, leapt a low dyke into a field, and
picked up his heels so nimbly that, though I was pretty quick of
foot, I was by no means sure of my power to overtake him.
But he had left me the horse. Quickly untethering it, I mounted, and
set off after the runaway. And then my practice in cross-country
riding about Shrewsbury served me well; I did not hesitate to set
the beast at the dykes that divided the fields; he took them gamely,
and after five minutes of as mad a steeplechase as I ever enjoyed
I came up with the fugitive. He sprang aside, drew his sword, and
seemed to be for showing fight: but when I wheeled the horse and
threatened to ride him down he saw that the game was up, and, sullenly
surrendering his sword, marched back before me to the farm.
Then I found that my comrades had already finished the business.
They had hauled the Frenchmen back into the room where their
captain lay, screeching abuse at Joe and the bosun, who smiled at
him encouragingly. The Frenchmen's faces bore marks of punishment;
several of them had signs of war upon their sleeves, which they had
used to stanch their noses. So loudly did the captain vituperate me
that I had to ask Joe to silence him; it was necessary for us to
hold a council of war, and quiet discourse was impossible while the
Frenchman raved.
Joe chose a way as effective as it was simple. He caught up a
handful of straw and stuffed it between the officer's teeth.
And now some of the circumstances reminded me of the similar
mischance that had befallen me on the Bristowe road. There also the
scene had passed in a ruined building strewn with straw. And the
recollection of the indignity I had suffered at the hands of Topper
and his fellows, coupled with the sight of the three deserters
lying manacled and open-mouthed against the wall, gave me an idea
that pleased me mightily. I had once changed clothes against my
will; why should not Monsieur le Capitaine learn humility in the
same way? He was about my height: his clothes would certainly fit
me better than Job the poacher's had done; and whereas my former
change had been for the worse, the change I contemplated should
turn out very much for the better, and so the whirligig of time
would have his revenges.
I told my comrades what I had in mind.
"All very well for you, sir," said the bosun bluntly, "but what
about us tars?"
"Why, some of you can slip into the Frenchmen's clothes," I
replied. "You won't get a fit, I fear, bosun; you are overgrown" (I
smiled as the words others had used about me came unbidden to my
lips); "but the sergeant there is very much Joe Punchard's figure,
and five of you can make shift, I daresay. You would make quite a
pretty squad of Frenchmen, and show a little more brawn."
"But what's the good, sir?" objected Tolliday. "We can't talk a
word of the lingo, and if your idea be to march through the country
till we can find a boat, bless my buttons if we can do it, 'cos the
first cuss I say will be the ruin of us."
"I haven't told you all my plan yet," I said. "But first I must
speak to these poor fellows here: they are deserters and were on
the way to Rennes to be shot.
"Take 'em outside, Joe."
The plan I had in mind when seizing the Frenchmen was somewhat
hazy, but it was becoming clearer every moment, and, being spiced
with hazard, it appealed to all that was adventurous in my nature.
When I had the deserters out of earshot of their late guards, I
asked them if they wished to regain their freedom, knowing well
what their answer would be.
"Well," said I, "if I set you free now it may do you no good. You
have been caught once and may be caught again. But if you throw in
your lot with us there is a chance for you. We are English
prisoners who have escaped: join us, and we will try to take you to
England."
They demurred to this. They did not want to go to England, where
they would be friendless and might starve. They would rather remain
in their own country, among their own kin.
"But there is a France overseas," I said. "From England you may
perhaps sail by and by for Quebec, where you would be among your
own countrymen, and run little risk of being recognized. If you
stay here you will sooner or later be captured again and shot. A
new land is the place for you."
They discussed this suggestion among themselves, and at length
agreed to make the attempt. I then returned to my comrades, and
explained to them more fully my design. It was nothing less than to
personate the French captain, and to lead my party across country
just as he had been doing. The three deserters would exchange their
peasant rags for the uniforms of three of the French soldiers, and
three of my comrades would wear the uniforms of the rest. I hoped
that with courage and address and circumspection we might contrive
to keep up the imposture long enough to accomplish our ends.
My comrades, however, looked at the matter in a different light.
"'Tis all very fine," said the bosun gloomily, "but what about the
lingo, sir? We may dress up as much as you like, but nohow can we
twist our tongues to the jabber of these Frenchies, and I could no
more march a score of miles without using my clapper than I could
steer without a rudder."
"Then you will have to be wounded in the jaw," I said, "and Joe
will tie it up so that you can't open your mouth. We must pretend
that we had a desperate fight before we captured the deserters. We
must be very careful; I don't make light of the difficulties before
us, but we shouldn't be worth the name of English tars if we didn't
make the best use of this opportunity that Providence has offered
us."
"But what about the rest of us?" said Tolliday. "There bean't
enough uniforms to go round."
"Why," I said, with a sudden inspiration, "you shall be just what
you are, English seamen who have escaped prison. I shall give out
that as we were escorting our deserters we discovered you skulking
in a barn, and brought you along with us."
My comrades were aghast at this, but I pointed out that my plan
would solve the language difficulty, and that if it succeeded in
one part it might succeed in all, whereas if it failed they would
be none the worse off. They admitted that this was reasonable, and
the humor of the situation suddenly striking them, they began to
enjoy it as an excellent joke.
And then Runnles suggested a difficulty which had not occurred to
me: it may seem a mark of self-conceit, but it was really mere
thoughtlessness. He pointed out that though I spoke French well
(little Runnles was a man of tact!), yet it would not deceive a
native. He was undoubtedly right, and the suggestion staggered me.
Hoping to be reassured, I asked one of the deserters whether I
might pass as a Frenchman, and I own I felt deeply chagrined when,
with a shrug, he confessed that I would not. But one of his
comrades here broke in.
"Pardon, monsieur," he said, "what matters it? That brute of a
captain is only a German Swiss; there are plenty such in the king's
army; and your French is as good as his."
My spirits rose at this, and having told my comrades what he had
said, I determined to lose no more time in putting my plan into
execution. The changes of clothes were quickly made, not without
some struggles on the part of our victims, and a vast deal of
violent language from the captain, whom Joe again half choked with
straw. We soon had him and his men rigged up, gagged and manacled
as deserters; we borrowed (without leave) kerchiefs of various
colors which the Frenchmen had about them, and of them made
bandages for those who were to pass as wounded. Joe donned the
sergeant's clothes, and the bosun those of the largest of the
company, though they were a sad misfit.
It struck us that we should make the imposture more complete if we
got a cart in which to convey our wounded men, so when the
preparations were otherwise complete I, attired as the French
captain, mounted his horse and, accompanied by two of the quondam
deserters (now appearing quite respectable infantrymen), set off to
find a farm where in the name of King Lewis I might demand what we
needed. We had to go some three miles before we came to a likely
looking farmhouse, and there, assuming an authoritative and
hectoring manner quite foreign to my amiable disposition, I secured
a wagon and two horses, for which I gave the farmer a formal
receipt.
The sight of his dairy reminded me that I was hungry, and I added
to my requisition a good store of food, for which I knew my
comrades would bless me. For driver I picked out the stupidest
looking yokel I could find among the farmer's men, and then we
returned to the ruined farmhouse in triumph and not a little haste,
for I was eager to set my teeth in the bread and cheese we were
conveying.