Day after day, Leigh went out into the town. More than once he saw
the fatal tumbrils going along in the distance, but he always
turned and walked in the opposite direction. Once or twice, having
changed his clothes for those of a workman, he fought his way into
the public galleries of the Convention and listened to the
speeches; in which it seemed to him that the principal object of
each speaker was to exceed those who had gone before him in
violence, and that the most violent was the most loudly applauded,
both by the galleries and the Assembly.
Patsey was most anxious to be off, but he urged that it would not
do to show haste. She did not leave the house at all, while he was
out almost all day. At the end of the fortnight, he told Monsieur
Tourrier that he had now finished his business, and asked him if he
could obtain from the maire of the arrondissement a pass down to
Havre.
"It is a pity that you did not get your pass direct from Arthenay,"
he said. "You say that your sister wants to make inquiries about a
husband there, and that you are taking her down, and you also say
that you are a sailor."
"Yes."
"Then, I should think that the best thing for you would be to dress
yourself as a sailor again. It will seem more natural than for you
to be in that civilian dress. I can go with you, and say that you
were strongly recommended to me by the maire's adjoint at Arthenay,
and that your papers are all en regle. If he asks why you did not
have your papers made out in the first place to Havre, say that you
had hoped to have been joined by your brother-in-law here; but as
he has not arrived your sister is anxious about him, and wishes
therefore to go on to Havre, which indeed he has requested her to
do, as it was uncertain whether he would be able to leave his ship.
"I know, of course, that it is all right, or my cousin would not
have recommended you so strongly to me; but in these days everyone
is suspicious, and one cannot be too cautious. I will get one of
the market authorities to go up with me. I am well known to them
all, and 'tis likely that none of the people at the mairie will
know me, seeing that I am a quiet man, and keep myself to myself."
Leigh had no trouble in buying a sailor's dress, at a shop down by
the wharves and, having put this on, went up with Monsieur Tourrier
and one of the market officers to the mairie. As the former had
anticipated, there was no difficulty. Leigh's pass was examined.
The market official testified to the grocer as being a well-known
citizen, doing business with the market people, and taking no part
in public affairs; while Monsieur Tourrier showed the letter that
he had received from his cousin, the adjoint at Arthenay.
"What is the name of the ship which your sister's husband
commands?" the maire asked.
"The Henriette, a lugger. Formerly she traded with England but,
since the war broke out, she trades between the ports on our
western coast."
"And you have been a sailor on board her?"
"Yes, citizen."
The maire nodded, and made out the pass for Jeannette Martin,
travelling to join her husband, the captain of the lugger
Henriette; for her brother, Lucien Porson; and for Louis Martin,
aged two years, son of the above-named citoyenne Martin.
As they agreed that it would now be best to travel by water, Leigh
next went to the stables and, as the horses were both good ones,
obtained a fair price for them. The next morning they went on board
a sailing craft going down the river and, after a cordial adieu
from their host and hostess, and a promise to take up their abode
there, on their return through Paris, they went on board. Leigh had
sold the saddles with the horses; having, on the journey to Paris,
removed the bundles of assignats concealed in them.
The accommodation on board was very fair. Patsey occupied a roomy
cabin aft, the rest slept in a large cabin forward; for before the
troubles began, the majority of people travelling from Paris down
to Rouen or Havre went by water, and although the boats were mainly
constructed for the carriage of merchandise, the conveyance of
passengers formed an important part of the profits. At present,
however, there was but little travelling, and Patsey had the
women's cabin to herself; while one other male messenger, with the
master and two hands, had the forward compartments to themselves.
The master explained that, at ordinary times, his two men occupied
a tiny place boarded off from the hold, or in summer slept on deck;
but that, as there were so few passengers, they lived with the rest
"for," as he growled under his breath, "the present."
The voyage was slow but not unpleasant. There was scarce wind
enough to fill the two sails carried by the boat, but the captain
and his two hands frequently got out sweeps, to keep the boat in
the middle of the current. They stopped for a day at Rouen, while
the cargo destined for that town was landed. Patsey and Leigh were
glad to spend the day in the town, visiting the cathedral, taking
their meals at a restaurant, for the cuisine on board the boat was
not of the highest character.
"We used to keep a regular cook," the captain lamented. "In those
days we often carried several passengers; but at present, when we
seldom have more than one or two, we cannot afford it. The
Revolution is no doubt a grand thing, and has greatly benefited the
nation, but it has weighed hardly on us. There are but half the
boats on the river there used to be, and they are hardly paying
expenses, now that no one travels. Those that go to sea are worse
off still for, what with the falling off in trade, and with the
English cruisers all along the coast, there is little employment
for seamen, save in the privateers. However, they don't starve; for
the greater portion of the men on the coast have to go in the ships
of the Republic."
On the sixth day after leaving Paris, they arrived at Havre. Here
they had no difficulty in obtaining lodgings, in a small auberge
near the port. Their pass was, on their arrival, sent to the
authorities of the town and duly stamped. Leigh's first inquiries
were for the Henriette. He found that she was well known in the
port, and had sailed for La Rochelle, six weeks before.
"She does not very often come up here," one of the sailors said.
"Sometimes she is months between her visits. As likely as not, she
may have been captured on her way down. Her port is Bordeaux and,
if you wanted to find her, you had much better have gone straight
there than come to this place."
"I do want to find her," Leigh said. "Is there any chance of
finding a ship going down south?"
"Well, you might find one," the man said; "but you would have to
take your chance of getting there. Many of the ships are laid up,
for the risk of capture is great. It is small craft that, for the
most part, make the venture. They creep along inshore, and either
run into a port or anchor under the guns of a battery if they see a
British cruiser outside. Drawing so little water, they can keep in
nearer than a cruiser would dare to; and as they all can take the
mud, they do not mind if they stick on the sands for a tide."
Leigh returned with the news to his sister.
"What do you think, Patsey?" he said. "I do not say that we cannot
cross from here in a boat, though I have learned that the entrance
to the Channel is guarded by gunboats. If we passed safely through
these, we should have serious risk and many hardships to undergo. I
hear that there are numerous French privateers, and we might be
picked up by one of them, instead of by an English cruiser. I am
afraid that our passes, in that case, would not avail us in the
slightest.
"Now, if we go down to Bordeaux, we have only to wait till the
Henriette comes in. Possibly she may be there when we arrive. In
that case, I am sure that Lefaux will be willing to take us out,
and either put us on board a British cruiser, or land us in
England."
"Certainly we will go to Bordeaux," Patsey said. "We may find Jean
there. If he escaped that night he would make for the Loire and, as
he is a good swimmer, he would get over without difficulty, and he
would then try to make his way towards Bordeaux."
"That may be so, Patsey; but I would not be too sanguine about our
finding him there. It was so much nearer for him to have made for
one of the northern ports that he might very well have done so and,
as soon as he managed to obtain a sea outfit, he would no longer be
suspected of having anything to do with the Vendeans."
They had learnt before this that, after the fight at Le Mans, the
Vendeans had made for the river, had desperately fought their way
through the forces that barred their march, had come down on the
banks, but had failed to find any means to cross it. Then they had
turned into Brittany again for a short distance, had fought two or
three more desperate battles, and had again reached the Loire.
There was but one leaky boat to be found. In this la Rochejaquelein,
with a few of his officers, had crossed the river to bring back some
boats that were moored on the opposite bank. Directly they got
across they were attacked, but la Rochejaquelein, with two or three
others, effected their escape.
After this the Vendeans no longer kept together. The women and
children, wounded and invalids, hid themselves in the woods; where
they were hunted down like wild beasts, and either slaughtered at
once or sent to Nantes, where thousands were either executed or
drowned by the infamous Carrier, one of the most sanguinary
villains produced by the Revolution. Many of the men managed to
cross the river either by swimming on rough rafts or in boats. In
La Vendee the war was still going on, for Charette had marched up
again from Lower Poitou, and was keeping a large force of the
Republican troops engaged.
"I will try not to hope too much," Patsey said. "But at any rate, I
am for going down to Bordeaux for, apart from the chance of finding
Jean there, it seems much safer than putting out to sea in a little
boat."
"I certainly think so," Leigh replied. "Now I will go out and make
inquiries as to what craft there may be, bound south."
He returned in a couple of hours.
"I have arranged for our passage, Patsey. She is a fast-looking
little craft, with very decent accommodation. She is in the wine
trade, and brought a cargo safely up last week, and will start
again the day after tomorrow. She carries a crew of eight hands;
and I have made inquiries about the captain, and hear a very good
report of him, and he seemed to me a first-rate fellow. When I
mentioned the name of the Henriette he said that he knew her well,
and was acquainted both with the present captain and with your
Jean. He had heard, from Lefaux, that her former owner had been
denounced, and had been obliged to fly from Nantes to a chateau
that he had in La Vendee. The Henriette has never been into Nantes
since, but went down to Bordeaux, and was there registered in
another owner's name, and Lefaux had worked for him ever since.
"'I fancy,' he said, 'she sometimes makes a run with brandy to
England. She was in that business before, and had, Lefaux said,
been chased many a time by English cutters, but had always managed
to give them the slip.'
"I was half inclined to tell him that I was Jean's brother-in-law,
but I thought it better not to until we had been to sea for a day
or two, and had learned a little more about him."
The next day Leigh went to the mairie and explained that, not
having found the ship commanded by citoyenne Martin's husband, and
thinking it likely that they would hear of him at Bordeaux, they
had taken passage by the Trois Freres, which sailed the next day.
The addition was made to his papers without a question, and the
next morning they went on board. They were heartily received by the
captain.
"You ought to bring us luck, madame," he said; "I mean citoyenne,
but the old word slips out of one's mouth, sometimes. It is not
often that I have a lady passenger. There are few who travel now
and, before the war broke out, people preferred taking passage in
larger ships than mine. Still, I will do my best to make you
comfortable, and I can assure you that Leon, my cook, is by no
means a bad hand at turning out dainty dishes. He was cook in an
hotel, at one time; but he let his tongue wag too freely and,
having to leave suddenly, was glad enough to ship with me.
Fortunately he likes the life, and I do not think anything would
tempt him to go back to an hotel kitchen again."
"I am not particular, I can assure you," Patsey said. "In these
times we all have to rough it. Still, I own that I like a good
dinner better than a bad one."
"We shall put in to a good many little ports," the skipper said.
"Sailing as close as we do inshore, I always make a port if I can,
as evening comes on; and we are therefore never without fresh meat,
fish, and vegetables."
"How long shall we be going down?"
"That I cannot tell you. It all depends upon the wind. We may, too,
be kept in port for two or three days if there is an enemy's
cruiser anywhere about. We may get there in ten days, we may take
three weeks."
Before the boat set sail, a commissary with two men came on board
and examined the passes of the passengers, and searched below the
hatches to make sure that no one was hidden there. As soon as they
had completed their inspection the sails were hoisted, and the
Trois Freres started on her way down the Channel. The wind was
light and blowing from the southwest, and they were just able to
lay their course, and anchored for the night off the mouth of the
Vire river.
"I suppose tomorrow you will get round the Cape de la Hague,
captain?" Leigh said.
"No, we shall not attempt that. The coast is a very difficult one,
with furious currents. We shall bring up off Cherbourg and start at
daylight; and shall, I hope, be well down towards the bay of
Avranches by nightfall. There is no fear of a British cruiser till
we get out towards Ushant. They do not care about coming inside the
islands; what with the fogs, the rocks, and the currents, it is
safer outside than in. Besides, there is little to be picked up
except coasters like ourselves, and fishing boats. There is hardly
any foreign trade between Havre and Brest. It is from there down to
the mouth of the Gironde that their cruisers are so thick. From
Ushant to Boulogne there are plenty of them, but these are chiefly
occupied in guarding their ships going up and down the Channel from
our privateers, which run out from every port: Dieppe and Havre,
Granville, Avranches, and Saint Malo."
The skipper had by no means over praised his cook, who turned them
out a better dinner than any that they had eaten since the troubles
began, with the exception only of those they had had at Arthenay.
"He takes a pride in it," the captain said, "and you will never get
good work done in any line, unless by a man who does so. A sailor
who is careless about the appearance of his ship is sure to be
careless about the keeping of the watch, and is not to be trusted
in matters of navigation. When you see a craft with every rope in
its place, everything spotlessly clean, the brass work polished up,
and the paint carefully attended to, you may be sure that the
skipper is as particular in more important matters. It is just so
with our man. It is a little bit of a galley, but his saucepans
shine like gold, everything is clean and in its place. He grumbles
if we run short of anything, and is a good deal more particular
about my dinner being just what it should be than I am myself.
"Sometimes when we have rough weather I say to him, 'Make me a soup
today, Leon. I shall be well content with that, and it is not
weather for turning out a regular dinner.'
"He always replies gravely, 'Monsieur, anyone can cook when the sea
is calm. It is on an occasion like this that one who knows his
business is required. Monsieur will dine as usual.'
"And up comes dinner, with three or four courses, cooked to
perfection. For myself, I would rather snatch a few mouthfuls and
go up on deck again; but this would hurt Leon's feelings if he saw
it, and he might even consider that he must seek another employer,
for that his talents were wasted upon me; so I go through it all
with exemplary patience. I would not lose him for anything, not
only because I own I like good food, but the Trois Freres has such
a reputation for good living that, if I am in port, passengers will
wait for days to sail with me, instead of going by other craft.
"And then, too, I have no trouble with my crew, and it is rarely,
indeed, that I change one of my hands; for although their meals are
of course much simpler than mine, they are all perfect in their
way.
"It takes a great deal of trouble off my hands, too. Instead of my
having a dozen little accounts to go into, at every port we enter,
I allow him a certain sum and he manages on that--so much a day for
my own table, so much for each passenger, and so much for the crew.
How he does it, I don't know. I find that it is cheaper than it
used to be, before his time; and yet I have all sorts of dainties I
never dreamt of, then.
"I say to him sometimes, 'Leon, you must be ruining yourself;' but
he smiles and says, 'I am well content, captain; if you are
satisfied, I am so.'
"He buys the fish off the boats as they come in, and I can
understand that he gets them far more cheaply than if he waited
till they were hawked in the streets. He is great at omelets and,
when he has a chance, he is ashore before the countrywomen come
into the market; and will buy the whole stock of eggs, a pound or
two of butter, and three or four couples of fowls from one woman,
who is glad to sell cheaply and so be free to return home at once.
At Bordeaux he lays in a stock of snipe and other birds from the
sand hills and marshes, oysters, and other such matters. He is a
great favourite with the crew and, in cold weather or stormy
nights, there is always hot soup ready for them.
"He has only one fault. As a rule, the cooks are expected to help
get up the anchor and sails, but he will not put a hand to sailors'
work. He says that a cook must not have a rough hand, but that it
should be as soft as a woman's. Personally, I believe that is all
nonsense. However, as we have a fairly strong crew, I do not press
him on the subject; though sometimes, when I tail on to a rope
myself, and see him leaning quietly against his galley smoking his
pipe, I am inclined to use strong language."
"I don't think that is much to put up with, captain," Patsey said
with a smile, "if he always cooks for you such breakfasts and
dinners as we have had today; and I do think that there is,
perhaps, something in what he says about rough hands."
"Well, I feel that myself," he said. "Still, it is a little
aggravating, when everyone else is working hard, to see a man
calmly smoking, and never raising a finger to help."
The next day they kept very close inshore. More than once a white
sail was seen in the distance, which the captain pronounced, from
its cut, to belong to a British cruiser.
"The weather is fine, you see, and the wind is steady, so they are
coming rather farther into the bay than usual. We shall see more of
them, as soon as we are round that cape ahead, for they keep a very
sharp lookout off Cherbourg."
It was not, however, until they had rounded Ushant that any British
vessel came near enough to cause them uneasiness. There were two
large frigates cruising backwards and forwards off Brest, and a
brig-of-war came within shot, as they were doubling Penmarch Point.
"There is plenty of water for her, here," the skipper said.
"However, she will hardly catch us, before we are under shelter of
the batteries of Quimper."
"I should have thought that she would hardly think you worth the
trouble of chasing."
"It may be that they think we are carrying fresh meat from Saint
Malo to Nantes. There is a good deal of trade that way, this time
of year, when meat will keep good for a week. Or it may be that
they want to get news of what ships there are in Brest. However, it
is certain that he is in earnest; he is politely requesting us to
lower our sails."
He laughed as a puff of white smoke broke out from the brig and, a
second or two later, a ball dashed up the water fifty yards ahead
of them. The emotions with which Patsey and Leigh watched the brig
differed much from those of the captain. They would gladly have
seen the lugger overhauled and captured, but they soon saw that
there was little chance of this. The lugger was a fast boat, the
wind just suited her, and the brig fell farther and farther astern
until, as the former entered the bay of Quimper and laid her course
north, the brig hauled her wind and turned to rejoin the vessels
off Brest.
Keeping close to the land, they passed L'Orient and Quiberon and
Vannes without stopping, and did not drop anchor again until they
entered the bay on the eastern side of the island of Noirmoutier.
The next day they passed out through the narrow channel of Froment,
and had gone between the island and the mainland, for a distance of
two miles, when they saw a large brig making in towards the shore.
"Another of those cruisers," the captain exclaimed. "This is more
serious, for there is no bay we can run into, and the fellow is
bringing the wind down with him. Our only chance is to anchor under
the guns of Saint Jean des Montes; we shall be lucky if we get
there in time."
The brig came up fast, and was within a mile when the lugger caught
the wind; then running along rapidly she held her own until off
Saint Jean, when she ran in as close as her draught would permit,
and anchored. Two French privateers were already lying in there,
one having dropped anchor only a few minutes before the Trois
Freres arrived.
"I expect it was that fellow that the brig was in chase of, and I
am not by any means sure that we have done with her, yet. They are
as likely as not to try to cut out one, if not both, of these
privateers. Of course it would look like madness, with the guns of
that battery on the height protecting them, but they have done such
things so often that one can never say that one is altogether safe
from them."
The brig stood in until two or three guns in the battery opened
fire, when she turned and made out to sea again.
"That means nothing," the captain said. "Of course she would not
attack in daylight. I dare say she will sail pretty nearly out of
sight, so as to make the privateers believe that she had no
intention of meddling with them. If I was sure that was her game, I
would get up sail again, as soon as it is dark, and make for
Oleron; but it is likely enough that she may think that that is
just what the privateers will do, and will sail in that direction
herself, so as to cut them off before they get there, and force
them to fight without the protection of a shore battery.
"There is the bell for breakfast! Leon would not be two minutes
late, if there was an action going on close to us."
Half an hour later they went on deck again.
"At any rate, the sea has saved us the trouble of discussing the
matter," the captain said. "We are aground. The tide turned just
before we got here. It is now half past twelve, and we shall not be
afloat again for nearly twelve hours.
"Well, there is one thing: if they are thinking of trying to cut
out the privateers, they are not likely to do it before two or
three o'clock in the morning. As soon as we float I shall haul out,
a cable's length or two, so as to ensure our being able to get off;
and if they do attack, I shall get up my sails at once, and run
south. They will be too much occupied to give us a thought. Whereas
if I stay here, and they capture the privateers, they might take it
into their heads to come on board and set fire to the lugger;
which, as I am part owner, would be a very serious matter to me."
It was apparent that the privateers had no thought of the brig
returning, at any rate at present, as boats went backwards and
forwards between them and the shore.
"What do you think, Leigh?" his sister asked quietly, as they were
sitting alone together.
"I do not know in the least," he said. "Our best chance is that the
two Frenchmen seem to be so confident that they are safe under the
guns of the fort, that they will take no very great precautions.
One of them mounts eight guns, the other ten, and they ought to be
a match for the brig, even without the forts; for we could see, by
her ports, that she only carries sixteen guns. However, I think
myself that she will very likely have a try at them. It will be a
very dark night, for the sky is overcast and there is no moon."
It was between ten and eleven when, just as they were about to turn
in, the captain ran in.
"Quick, madame, you must hurry on your clothes! I heard a sound
just now that could only be made by a boat. As we are still
aground, I shall bring a boat alongside and land. There is nothing
like being on the safe side!"
The two privateers were lying a quarter of a mile farther out, and
there were still lights burning on board them.
"The fools!" the captain growled, as Leigh and his sister came on
deck; Leigh carrying little Louis, who had been put to bed fully
dressed. Indeed, no time had been lost, for his mother and Leigh
had agreed that it would be better to lie down in their clothes, in
case of an alarm being given.
"The fools!" the captain repeated. "If they had extinguished every
light, as they ought to have done, the boats would have had
difficulty in finding them. Now, they could not miss them if they
tried.
"Now, madame, will you please take your place in the boat with me?
I am sure that there are boats coming along. Of course the oars are
muffled, and there is enough sea on to prevent us hearing the
splash. I think the noise I heard was caused by one of the
stretchers giving way."
Reluctantly Patsey and Leigh took their places in the boat. Just as
they reached the shore, a shout was heard on board one of the
privateers and, a moment later, came the sound of a British cheer.
It was followed by a hubbub of shouts, then muskets flashed out
from the decks, and almost immediately came the sounds of conflict.
A blue light was struck on the deck of one of the privateers and,
by its light, those on shore could obtain a view of the conflict.
The boats had boarded from the shore side. Two of them lay
alongside each of the privateers, and the crews could be seen
climbing up by the chains and leaping down upon the decks.
"They deserve to be taken," the captain said. "They have not even
triced up their boarding nets."
A confused medley of sounds came to the shore; with the shouts of
the French sailors were mingled the clash of cutlasses and the
crack of pistols. The British sailors fought, for the most part,
silently. On the heights above, blue lights were burning in the
battery, and men could be seen standing on its crest watching the
combat below, but powerless to assist their friends.
It was but five minutes after the outbreak of the combat when a
loud British cheer, followed by a dead silence, showed that one, at
least, of the privateers had been captured. The fighting still
continued on the deck of the other craft but, from the vessel that
had been captured, a number of sailors leapt down into one of their
boats, and rowed to the assistance of their comrades. The
reinforcements apparently decided the issue of the fight, for in a
couple of minutes the British cheer was again heard, and the blue
light was promptly extinguished, as were all the other lights on
both vessels. Scarcely was this done when the guns from the battery
boomed out.
"It is of no use their firing," the captain said. "I don't think
they can depress the guns enough to bear upon them.
"There, they are making sail!" he went on, as the creaking of
blocks was heard. "Of course they have cut the cables. They would
not waste time in getting up anchors, with the forts playing upon
them. However, it is mere waste of powder and shot on such a night
as this. I don't suppose the gunners can make them out, now; for a
certainty they won't be able to do so, as soon as they have moved
off another quarter of a mile. Of course a stray shot may hit them,
but practically it is all over.
"I think that we can go on board again. I did not think of it
before, but they would hardly set fire to us, for the light would
enable the gunners to see them till they were a long way out.
"There is no doubt those Englishmen can fight. Our men are all
right when they are under sail, and it is a question of exchanging
broadsides, but the success of so many of their cutting out
expeditions shows that, somehow or other, we lose heart when we are
boarded. We must have had nearly twice as many men as there were in
those four boats, and yet it seemed to be a certainty, as soon as
the English got among them.
"Our craft had much better have sailed out together when the brig
came in this morning, and fought her fairly. They ought to have
been more than a match for her. No doubt they would have done so if
they had thought that they would be attacked tonight; but they
relied upon the battery, and allowed themselves to be taken
completely by surprise.
"I could see, even from this distance, that most of them were
fighting in their shirts; and I expect that they were sound asleep
when the attack began, and men roused in that sudden way can never
be relied upon to do their duty as they would do, if prepared to
meet it."
The party were soon on board the lugger again. Just as daylight was
breaking there was a trampling of feet on the deck, and Leigh,
going up, found that sail was being hoisted. Keeping close to the
shore they ran down, without putting in anywhere, to La Rochelle.
Here they waited for a day and then, keeping inside the Isle of
Oleron, entered the Gironde and, the next day, anchored in the
Garonne, off the quays of Bordeaux.
After thanking the captain very heartily for his kindness during
the passage, they landed, showed their papers to an official on the
quay, and then, being unhampered by luggage, walked quietly away.
As there was nothing particularly noticeable in their appearance,
they attracted no attention whatever. It was five o'clock when they
landed, and already becoming dusk. They waited until it was quite
dark and then, having inquired for the house of Monsieur Flambard,
the merchant to whom Jean had assigned the Henriette, they knocked
at his door.
It was a handsome house, not far from the quays. The lower portion
was evidently occupied by the offices. As a servant opened the
door, Leigh, seeing that his sister hesitated to speak, inquired if
Monsieur Flambard was at home.
"He is," the man said shortly, "but he does not see people on
business after the office is closed."
Leigh saw that his dress, as a sailor, did not impress the man.
"I think he will see us," he said, "if you take the name up to him.
Will you tell him that Citoyenne Martin wishes to speak to him."
A minute later the merchant himself, a handsome man of about the
same age as Jean Martin, came down.
"Ah! madame, I am glad indeed to see you," he said; for he had more
than once been up to Nantes, during the time she was living there,
and had been frequently at the house. "I have been in great anxiety
about you."
"Has Jean been here?" she asked, in a tone of intense anxiety.
"No, madame, I have heard nothing of him for many months; not,
indeed, since his lugger first came down here, with his letter and
the deed of her sale to myself. Did you expect to find him here?"
"I hoped so, although there was no arrangement between us to meet
here. Still, I thought that he would have made his way down here,
if possible, as he would then be able to escape in the lugger."
"He may have found it more difficult than he thought," Monsieur
Flambard said, soothingly. "But do not let us be standing here.
Pray, come up. My wife will be glad to welcome you, for she has
often heard me speak of Martin's English wife."
Leigh had been standing behind Patsey while they spoke but, as the
merchant closed the door, his eye fell upon him.
"Ah, monsieur, now I recognize you. You are Monsieur Leigh
Stansfield, the brother of madame. I welcome you also, cordially."
So saying, he led the way upstairs.