CHAPTER X

THE FRENCH FLEET SIGNALLED

MRS. BRYCE could seldom be happy for long in one place. Before the end

of September she had decided to quit Folkestone for Sandgate. Polly was

charmed, and Mr. Bryce made no serious objection.

"If Buonaparte should come, my dear, what then?" was all that he

ventured to suggest; and Mrs. Bryce snapped her fingers at the First

Consul.

"Let him come, if so it pleases him. Pray, Mr. Bryce, do you consider

that we are bound to shape our course with a view to gratifying old

Nap?" demanded the vivacious lady.

Mr. Bryce wondered privately what his wife's feelings would be, if one

day a round shot from a French man-of-war should rush through the room

in which she was seated. But to Sandgate they went, on a rainy autumn

day, when the sea wailed dismally, and the wind howled more dismally

still, and the lodgings which Mr. Bryce had managed to secure wore an

aspect most dismal of all. Even Mrs. Bryce's spirits were affected by

the state of the atmosphere.

Books in their possession were few, and had already been read. Jack

failed to appear so soon as they had expected. Mr. Bryce sallied

forth, despite the rain; but the ladies could not think of following

his example. Mrs. Bryce in despair turned to some old volumes of the

Gentleman's Magazine, lying in a corner; and in so doing, to her

gratification, she fished out two or three recent numbers of the same

serial.

"Ah, ha, my dear Polly, now we shall do," she declared cheerfully. "Now

we may defy the elements, and you shall get on with your purse-netting,

and I will find something to read aloud for your entertainment. I

wonder much that Jack does not come."

"Jack is busy, or he would be here," Polly said confidently. Just as

she had her half-netted blue silk purse nicely arranged between foot

and knee, Mr. Bryce walked in, carrying letters,—at the sight of which

Polly dropped her work, and started up.

"Nay, not from France. Nothing from France," Mr. Bryce said with quick

understanding; and Polly returned to her seat languidly. "One from Bath

for you, and one from Norfolk for my wife. Two letters in a day! You

ladies may count yourselves fortunate."

Mr. Bryce disappeared anew, and Polly remarked, "My grandmother has

written to me."

"Read it aloud, Polly. 'Twill serve before the Magazine," quoth Mrs.

Bryce, and Polly complied, looking ahead, lest she should stumble upon

any sentence meant only for herself. The letter ran as follows:

"Bath, Oct. 28, 1803."

"MY DEAR POLLY,—Yours to Molly has very seriously disquieted my mind,

I assure you. If General Moore, with his gᵗ experience considers that the

French landing may be apprehended as likely soon to Take Place, 'tis

sure the height of imprudence for you to remain in that neighbourhood,

where the French Army, if it lands, will doubtless Pillage and Burn to

the best of their Ability."

"Nor does it appear to me, my dear Polly, that you will be greatly the

better off in Lonⁿ, where certainly the Invading Army will immediately

march, so soon as it has effected a Landing."

"I am therefore about to Propose what seems to me the wiser plan for

all of you. Which is, that you and Mrs. Bryce shou'd return again to

Bath, without Delay, leaving Mr. Bryce, as Dou'tless he will desire, to

take his proper share in the Defence of our Country. If Mrs. Bryce be

willing to act according to this plan, I most gladly offer to her such

Humble Accommodation as is in my power to bestow. The aspect of affairs

is truly Alarming; and if it be seriously apprehended that Lonⁿ is like

to be in greater danger of Bustle and Trouble than Bath, there is no

Necessity for you all to remain in that part of England. If Mrs. Bryce

can dispense for a while with the Good Table to which she is used, and

can put up with more Humble Fare, then every friendly Accommodation in

my power is at her Service."

"Last Saturday there appear'd before the Market Place forty-three

Blacks, who said they had been prisoners to the french, but had been

retaken, and were come to offer themselves volunteers to King George.

The Country men stared at them, and the women cried out. The next

morning here arrived a coach-full of the same colour. They are all sent

to Marlborough, how to be disposed of I don't know."

"My love to Jack, who I hope will not be spoiled by his many

friends,—alas, too frequently the case in these days of scarcity of

Good Young Men. Molly is well and behaves herself."

"Bath, it is expected, will soon be crowded with Irish Company.

A great many large houses were engaged last week. The Bristol people

think that, were the french to effect a landing on some of the Welsh

coasts, they might soon expect to be troubled with them there and at

Bath. Several meetings have been held on this subject. But 'tis the

opinion of most that Lonⁿ lies in greater danger."

"Yesterday was a solemn day for humiliation. The places of worship

were well attended; and the Clergy here exerted themselves, I trust,

to the best of their Abilitys."

"May God graciously avert from Old England so great a Calamity as

the presence of an Enemy upon her soil."

"Adieu.—Your affectionate Grandmother,"

"C. FAIRBANK."

Mrs. Bryce pronounced the writer's mode of expression to be "vastly

old-fashioned."

"But when you write, you may thank her all the same. Mrs. Fairbank

means it kindly, and if I thought old Nap would come in truth—but 'tis

all bluster and empty boasting. For my part, I put no sort of belief in

any invasion of our shores. But you may inform her that I am sincerely

grateful; and that, should occasion arise, I will not fail to avail

myself of her hospitality."

Then Mrs. Bryce turned to her own letter.

"From my cousin in Norfolk. And if you'll believe it, Polly, they're

all in a bustle and a fright there too, lest Nap should land first on

the eastern coast. He'll have enough on hand, if he's to go everywhere

that's expected of him. And if he goes there, they'll get them away

into the fen country, where 'tis thought the French soldiers won't be

able to follow."

Before Polly could reply, Jack walked in, and with him a young man,

Albert Peirce by name, nephew to the Admiral, and subaltern in one of

the Shorncliffe regiments.

Introductions followed, and Polly bestowed one of her most graceful

curtseys upon the newcomer. No doubt Polly liked to be admired, as was

natural in so pretty a girl; and she read instant appreciation of her

charms in Mr. Peirce's face. So she did her best to be agreeable to him

during the next two hours, and she seemed to be in very good spirits.

Whether those spirits remained equally good after she had disappeared

for the night, she alone could know.

Early the next morning, Polly was roused by agitated sounds.

"Polly! Polly! Wake up this instant, Polly! I vow and protest, the

child is crazed! Wake up, Polly! Polly, do you hear—they're coming!"

Polly roused herself with great deliberation. Though lively enough at

night, she was a heavy sleeper in the morning; and she dragged herself

to a sitting posture, with half-shut eyes and loosely hanging hair,

looking, it must be conceded, not quite so lovely as was her wont.

"Must I get up already, ma'am? 'Tis early."

"Get up! And already! 'Tis time you bestirred yourself in good earnest!

Polly, they're coming! They're on their way hither."

"Jack and Mr. Peirce!" Polly yawned.

"Jack and Mr. Peirce, quotha! Why, 'tis the French! Cannot you

understand, child? I've ever said 'twas nonsense, and they'd never

truly come. But they're off! they're on their way! And the wind is

favourable, and tis all up with us." Mrs. Bryce frantically wrung

her hands, standing beside the curtained bed, in her flowered

dressing-gown, her hair hanging loose, though not descending so low as

Polly's abundant mane, while her face was yellow-white with terror.

"And what we're to do nobody knows. Two French fleets of transports,

and a whole French army aboard! And bonfires alight, and folks all

astir, and there will be fighting, and people will be killed. And Mr.

Bryce will sure be in the thick of everything, and he will get shot,

and I shall be left a widow, Polly."

Mrs. Bryce collapsed on the foot of the bed. "And we might have been

safe away, if I hadn't made such a prodigious fool of myself, never

thinking for a moment that old Nap meant a word of what he said. I

protest, 'tis enough to drive one distracted. I'll never in my life go

to the sea-coast again, not for no sort of consideration! And they say

old Nap'll be here in a few hours, Polly, and there's no way of getting

off;—not a horse to be had for love or money! If I'd had a notion of

it, I'd never have stopped here."

By this time Polly had grasped the situation, and her drowsiness was

gone. She sprang out of bed upon her little white toes, and made

a movement akin to dancing, as she flung a pink wrapper round her

shoulders. This was being in luck, she would have said, if she had

spoken out her first thought. To find herself in the very thick of it

all—as safe as if a hundred miles away, with Moore and his soldiers

to protect her, yet able to see everything!—it was delightful. Polly

was a high-spirited girl, not easily alarmed; and fear found no corner

in her mind this morning. She was simply eager and excited; whereas

Mrs. Bryce, who from sheer perversity had refused to believe in even

the possibility of an invasion, and who from sheer lack of imagination

had failed to realise beforehand what such an invasion might mean, was

overwhelmed with terror.

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