HOW WE HELD OUR HOMES
There was no need to ask how the boats were heading. All eyes were fixed
anxiously on them as they came straight for the north of the Island, and
just as we came up Amice Le Couteur gave the word to move on to Eperquerie.
Stragglers from the more distant houses were coming up every few minutes.
He left one to send them all on after us, and we straggled off past
Belfontaine and Tintageu and the Autelets and Saignie Bay, and so into the
road to the Common, and took our stand on the high ground above the
Boutiques, and as we went Thomas Godfray loaded my pistols for me from his
own flask.
The colours had long since faded out of the sky, and the bank of clouds in
which the sun had set was creeping heavily up the west. Both sky and sea
were gray and shadowy. The sea was flawed with dark blurrs of sudden
squalls, and the waves broke harsh and white on La Grune and Bec du Nez.
The six boats came on with steady venom. They kept well out round Bec du
Nez, and we ran across the broken ground to meet them on the other side of
the Island, and lay down there by the Sénéchal's orders.
There was always the chance that they were making straight for the French
coast. It would have been well for some of them if they had. That hope died
as they turned inside the Pécheresse rock and came sweeping down towards
Eperquerie landing.
We could see them better now, and estimate our chances. Three of the boats
were of large size, holding ten to twelve men each, and carrying a small
carronade in the bows. The others held six to eight, and they were all as
evil and scowling a set as ever I set eyes on.
"They will try here," said Amice Le Couteur. "I will warn them once not to
land, then do you be ready to fire. Take advantage of the rocks, and let no
man expose himself unnecessarily."
They came thrashing along, with no show of order but much of the spirit
that was in them. There is no dog so ready to snap at anything that offers
as the one that is running from a fight. Their lust for mischief came up to
us in hoarse growls and curses, and tightened our grip on our weapons.
The first boat ground on the shingle, and the next ran in alongside before
the oars were unshipped, and the wind was thick with curses on their
clumsiness. The landing between the rock is a narrow one, and no more than
two could come in at once. The others had to wait outside.
The rascals were beginning to tumble ashore, when Amice Le Couteur stood up
and cried, "Stop there! If you land it is at your peril. We will not have
it."
Those who were landing turned their black faces upwards in surprise, for
they had not seen us. But from one of the waiting boats behind, half a
dozen shots rang out in a sudden blaze of light, and the Sénéchal fell
back among us, and our men began a hot fire at the boats from behind their
rocks.
I ran to M. Le Couteur, as I had no weapons but a cutlass and pistols, and
these were only for close work. He was bleeding in the head and chest, but
said he thought the wounds were not serious.
"See that some of them don't slip away to the Creux or Dixcart, while we're
busy with the others here, Carré," he said, as I tied up his head with his
own kerchief, and then dragged him down into a little hollow where no shots
could reach him.
There was much cursing and shouting down below, and a satisfactory amount
of groaning also, and our men fired and loaded without stopping and said no
word. The landing-place and the rocks above were thick with smoke, which
came swirling up in great coils, so that I could see nothing, though I
could hear enough and to spare.
I scrambled down the side of Pignon, bending among the rocks lest they
should see me, and so came out on to the larger rocks, inside which lies
the landing-place. I was thus in the rear of the Herm men, with the open
sea behind me, and a glance told me that the Sénéchal's fears were
justified. The two boats that had pushed in were alone there, and I heard
the sound of oars working lustily down the coast.
I turned and tumbled back the way I had come, scrambling and falling,
cutting and bruising myself on the ragged rocks, and so up to our men.
"There are only two boats there," I shouted. "The rest are off for the
Creux."
"Good lad!" cried George Hamon. "Off after them, Phil, and keep them in
sight. Fire your pistol if they stop. We'll divide and follow, and we'll
not be far behind;" and I ran on past Les Fontaines and Creux Belet.
I heard them pass Banquette as I stood in the gorse of the hillside, and
followed them round to Grève de la Ville, where there was little chance of
their landing, as the shore is not easy, and the climb not tempting.
From there I could have cut across into the Creux Road, and been at the
harbour long before them, but I thought best to follow the cliffs and keep
them in touch, lest they should try any tricks.
They had to keep well out round Moie à Navet, but they came in again under
Grande Moie, and so we came down the coast, they below and I above, till I
ran across country, back of the Cagnons, and dropped into Creux Road just
above the tunnel, and there found George Hamon with a good company come
straight by the road from La Tour, and still panting hard from their rush.
"Ah, here you are, mon gars!" said Uncle George. "And where are they?"
"Coming along. I saw them past Les Cagnons. How are they at Eperquerie?"
"We left them at it, but they're scotched there. Will they try here, or go
on?"
"Dixcart, if they know their business. It'll be all hands to the pumps
there, Uncle George. Four of us could hold the tunnel here against fifty."
"Yes, we'll get on by Les Lâches and wait there and make sure. Do you stop
here, Phil, with Godfray and De Carteret and Jean Drillot, until you are
sure they have gone on, then come on and join us. Best barricade the tunnel
with some of that timber."
He and the rest went on up the hillside to Les Lâches, and we four set to
work hauling and piling, till the seaward mouth of the tunnel leading from
the road to the shore was barred against any possible entrance. And
listening anxiously through our barrier, with the stillness of the tunnel
behind us, we presently heard the sound of the toiling oars pass slowly on
towards Dixcart. We waited till they died away, and then climbed the hill
to Les Lâches and sped across by the old ruins, with a wide berth to the
great Creux at the head of Derrible Bay, and down over the Hog's Back into
Dixcart Valley, where we knew, and they knew, their best chances lay. For
in Dixcart the shore shelves gently, and the valley runs wide to the beach;
fifty boats could land there in a line, and their crews could come up the
sloping way by the streamlet ten abreast. It would be no easy place to
defend if the enemy pushed his attack with persistence, and every man we
had would be needed.
We tumbled into our men as they settled their plan of defence. We were
twenty-one all told. Ten were to go along the Hog's Back cliff towards
Pointe Château, where they would overlook the point of landing, if the
enemy made straight for the valley. They were to begin firing the moment
the boats touched shore, and then to draw back into the valley. The other
ten were to lie in the bracken on the slope of the opposite hill, just
where it gives on to the bay, and to pour in their fire before the enemy
had recovered from his first dose. Then, if he came on, the two bands would
meet him with volleys from both hillsides as he came into the valley, and
again retiring along the hillsides, would continue to harass him till, at
the head of the valley, if he got that far, the united bands would meet him
hand to hand. We judged he might be about thirty strong, but hoped our
first volleys might bring us about even.
Uncle George asked me to go with himself and the nine along Hog's Back. As
I had no gun, and only one arm in full working order, I might be useful in
carrying any change of orders to the other party.
There was no sound of their coming yet, but the pull round Derrible Pointe
would account for that. So we stole silently along to our appointed places.
The night was very dark and squally, but on this side of the Island we were
sheltered. On the other side the white waves would be roaring and gnashing
up the black cliffs, but here in Dixcart they fell sadly on the shingle and
drew back into the depths with long-drawn growls and hisses.
"V'là!" said Uncle George, as we lay on the cliff; and we heard the oars
below in the bay, and all stood up ready.
They came in as close under the cliff as they dared, so close that we heard
their voices clearly between the falling of the waves. And then, dimly, we
saw the black bulks of their boats in the streaming surf as it ran back to
the sea, and I started, for I could only see three, but could not be
certain.
"Now!" said Uncle George, and our volley caught them full.
They roared curses, and began snapping back at us as each man found his
musket. But a step back took us under cover, for a black cliff two hundred
and fifty feet high, and hidden in the night, offered no mark for them, and
from the face of the opposite hill our other volley crashed into the marks
their own fire offered.
"Again!" said Uncle George, as soon as our men were ready, and our ten guns
spoke once more.
They were sadly discomfited, and furiously angry down below there. But
those who were not wounded had tumbled ashore, and they replied to our
second volley with a more concerted fire. And in the flash Of their guns I,
craning over the scarp of the hill, saw clearly but three boats.
"Only three boats," I whispered in George Hamon's ear. "I'm off to look for
the other," and before he could stop me I was gone. For he needed all his
men, and I believed I could manage alone.
Back across Hog's Back, past the old mill, through the fields by La Forge,
and along the hill-path by Les Lâches, and down the hill, slipping and
stumbling, and into the Creux tunnel with only one fear--that I might
arrive too late.
And I was only just in time. As I ran in I heard them on the seaward side
hauling at the timbers of our barricade; and with my chest going like a
pump, and my hands all shaking with excitement, I drew Peter Le Marchant's
cutlass and sent it lancing through the openings wherever a body seemed to
be.
Sudden oaths broke out, and the work stopped. I pulled out one of my
pistols, shoved the muzzle through a hole and pulled the trigger, and still
had wit enough to wonder what would happen if it burst, as Aunt Jeanne had
hinted.
It did not burst, however, and the discharge provoked a further outburst of
curses. I drew the other, and fired it likewise, and stood ready with my
cutlass for the next assault. But they had hoped to break through
unperceived, and possibly the violence of my attack misled them into a
belief in numbers. They drew off along the shingle, and I leaned back
against the side of the tunnel and panted for my life.
I heard a discussion going on, and presently they were at work at
something, but I could not make out what.
I took advantage of the lull to strengthen my defences with some boats'
masts and any odd timbers I could find and lift, till I thought it
impossible that any man should get through.
But I was wrong. There came a sudden roar outside, and a shot of size came
crashing through my barricade, sending pieces of it flying wildly. They had
a carronade, and had had to shift the boat to the end of the shingle to get
the mouth of the tunnel into the line of fire.
Then I began to fear. Men I could fight, but carronades were beyond me.
Still, even when they had knocked my barrier to pieces, the men must come
at last. The great iron shot could not reach me round the corners, though
flying timbers and splinters might. They would fire again and again till
the way was clear, and then they would come in a heap, and I must do my
best with my cutlass. And it was not unlikely that the sound of the heavy
guns might catch the ears of others and bring me help. So I drew back out
of the tunnel on the land side and waited.
A stumble over a piece of timber set me to the hurried building of a fresh
barricade at this end, outside the mouth of the tunnel. If it only stopped
them for minutes, the minutes might be enough. It would in any case hamper
them, and I did not believe they could train their guns upon it. So I
groped in the dark, and dragged, and piled, and found myself using the
wounded arm without feeling any pain, but also without much strength, till
I had a not-to-be-despised fence which would at least give me chance of a
few blows before it could be rushed.
Five times they fired, and the inside of the tunnel crashed with the
fragments of the outer barricade, and then it was evidently all down.
There was a brief lull while they gathered for the rush. Then they came all
together full into my later defence.
I stabbed through it and hacked at one who tried to climb. But they were
many and I was one. The barrier began to sag and give under their pressure.
I stabbed wildly through and through, and got groans for payment. And then
of a sudden I was aware of another fighting by my side. He had come
unperceived by me, and he spoke no word, but thrust and smote wherever
opportunity offered, and his coming gave me new strength.
And then, with a shout, others came pouring down the Creux Road, and I knew
that all was well, and I fell spent in the roadway.