ESCAPED
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.
[Illustration: “HE ORDERED THE MAN AT THE HELM TO STEER FOR THE
FRIGATE”]
“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.”