Meanwhile St. Just had been conducted to his cabin, a narrow room about
ten feet long and from six to eight in width; its furniture a bunk, a
chair and a seaman's chest, empty except for washing requisites of the
commonest description, the lid forming a table in the daytime. The
cabin was lighted by a small port hole.
This then was to be his abode for the next three weeks--or more, and
then--? The reflection made him shudder. He knew his fate depended on
the truthfulness of the despatches taken from him--or rather on their
result.
The hours seemed to drag on terribly. For a change, he paced about his
little cabin; then he threw himself upon his bunk and tried to sleep;
and, at last, succeeded.
How long he slept he did not know, but it was dark when he awoke,
aroused by the opening of his door. Someone came in with a lantern,
which he hung up on an iron hook in the rafters overhead. Then he laid
some books upon the sea chest. It was Sims, the officer who had brought
him to the cabin.
Following him was a sailor with a tray, on which were a bottle of rum
and a glass, some cold pork, ship's biscuits, butter, and sundry other
eatables, as well as knives and forks. He placed the tray upon the sea
chest and then withdrew.
"Halloa! hors de combat?" said Sims, thinking St. Just's position due to
mal de mer. "You'll get used to the sea in a day or two, and then
you'll be all right."
St. Just sat up, his eyes blinking in the lamp light.
"It's not sea sickness I'm suffering from," he laughed, "but cabin
sickness. The appointments here can scarcely be called luxurious, and I
find my own company the reverse of cheerful."
"Anything else you want?" asked Sims who, St. Just thought, seemed a
pleasant, hearty fellow.
St. Just laughed again. "Now what a question to ask a prisoner," he
said.
"Well, I'd give you your liberty, old fellow, if I could; but short of
that?"
"You are very good. To begin with then, what I most want is a change of
clothing and a pipe."
"The last I can manage on the spot; as to the first, I'll talk to the
Captain about it, and we'll see what we can do."
He put his hand into his pocket and brought out his own pipe and some
tobacco, and these he handed to the captive.
St. Just's eyes glistened at the sight.
He grasped the proffered articles with avidity and thanked the donor
with effusion.
After a little further talk, the young officer was obliged to leave him.
Then St. Just became conscious that he was hungry; so he fell to upon
the pork and biscuits. The fare was coarse, and the biscuits were
desperately hard, and he had to hammer them into little pieces with the
handle of his knife.
But, on the whole, he made an excellent meal, for what was wanting in
the quality of the food was made up by appetite in himself. Then came
the crowning luxury of the pipe. He smoked three. Then he turned into
his berth, and so finished his first day on board the English cruiser,
which was spinning merrily on her way towards Cadiz. She averaged ten
knots an hour, for the wind was with them, and the Captain had crowded
on her all the sail that she could carry.
For St. Just, one day was much like another, and he found the hours drag
slowly, in spite of the companionship of his pipe. The one pleasure he
looked forward to was his two hours' daily exercise on deck. The sight
of the dancing waves and the blue sky overhead, and the smell of the
fresh salt breeze, seemed to instill him with new life, but it made him
long for his liberty all the more.
Once the La France had a narrow escape of being captured. A large French
brig was sighted in the distance and, at once, gave chase; she began
rapidly to overhaul them. When the Frenchman was within gunshot,
Captain Fergusson was not long in knowing it; the ball struck the sea
only a few yards on their starboard side. The disparity in the size of
the two ships was such that the only alternatives of the English one's
escaping capture were, either to be able by smarter seamanship to dodge
the Frenchman, or that an English ship should come to their assistance.
Captain Fergusson knew the importance of his reaching the British
Admiral, and this added to his anxiety; it may even be said it was its
sole cause. Eagerly he scanned the distance, the compass round, on the
chance of sighting a vessel that flew the Union Jack; but not a sail of
any sort could he discover, save that which was bringing the Frenchman
ever nearer. St. Just was enjoying his interval of exercise while the
chase proceeded, and watched with great excitement the distance between
the two vessels lessening.
Gradually the brig gained on them, and ever and anon a shot ploughed up
the sea all round the gallant little cruiser; but, so far, she had not
been struck. Captain Fergusson, for all he knew that a contest could
practically have but one result, was resolved to fight before hauling
down his flag. So he had the deck cleared for action, and the cannon
shotted. Then, with a look of desperate resolve, he calmly waited.
Nothing it seemed could save him.
But, all at once, the tension on his face relaxed, and his eye
brightened; a chance he had not reckoned in his calculations was to
befriend him. Looking southward, in the opposite direction to the brig,
he noticed that the air was becoming hazy. His practiced eye informed
him what it was--a sea mist. If they could only hold on long enough,
they would run into it, and so be lost to the view of their pursuer.
"By God!" he cried excitedly to the First Lieutenant, "if only we can
get into that fog we shall give the Frenchman the slip."
At that moment a shot struck the little vessel on the taffrail, but did
no serious damage, and no one on board was hit. It was the last, for,
soon afterwards, the La France ran into the mist and was lost to sight.
This was the only exciting incident during St. Just's stay on the
cruiser. After this, day succeeded day with unvarying monotony, until
the morning of the 20th of October in this eventful year of 1805. Then
Captain Fergusson sighted in the distance the English fleet. It was
bearing down towards them in two lines, one led by Nelson in the
Victory, the other by Collingwood in the Redoubtable.
When within signalling distance Captain Fergusson ran up the Union Jack,
following it with the private signal. This having been acknowledged, the
flags went up to signify that he had despatches and a prisoner.
Gradually the little vessel neared the fleet, and, when she was within
hailing distance of the Victory, a voice rang out:
"Captain Fergusson to come on board with prisoner and despatches."
Forthwith he proceeded to St. Just's cabin, where the Frenchman lay
asleep. "Sorry to disturb you, Mons. St. Just, but we are in the middle
of the English fleet, and I have orders from the Admiral to take you on
board at once; so please dress as speedily as you can."
A few minutes' rowing, and they were alongside the Victory, the eyes of
every one on deck upon them; for the news had gone about that there were
tidings of the allied French and Spanish fleets, and all were longing to
be at them. St. Just slowly mounted the gangway. At its head stood an
officer in uniform, whom Fergusson addressed as Captain Hardy. Captain
Hardy took him apart and told him that he was to go with him at once to
the Admiral; so, after giving orders to an officer to watch St. Just,
the two proceeded to Lord Nelson's cabin.
Soon afterwards, many captains of other vessels in the fleet were
signalled to come on board, and the ship was kept in a continual bustle
by their arrival in quick succession. Then long and earnest
deliberations went on below. Meanwhile St. Just remained standing on the
poop, well guarded, and the object of great curiosity on the sailors'
part. It was said that he was a spy who had been captured. He scarcely
noticed the glances leveled at him, for he had plenty to occupy his
mind. For aught he knew, he was within a few minutes of his death. No
wonder he looked pale and anxious.
After some time, a midshipman approached, with instructions that he was
to follow him. He was conducted to Lord Nelson's cabin.
At first, to the Frenchman's unaccustomed eyes, the gloom was such--for
there was no light, but that which struggled through the
port-holes--that he could scarce distinguish the persons gathered in the
room; but his sight quickly accommodated itself to the partial light.
Then he noticed a long table, down each side of which were seated naval
officers in full-dress uniform. In the center, his back supported
against a bulkhead, was a small, spare man, with a thin, worn face and a
large nose, and grizzled hair. Like the other officers, he was in full
uniform, and it was noticeable that his right sleeve was empty and
looped up to a button hole of his coat. His left breast glittered with
stars and orders. One side of his face was turned to an officer at his
left, and he was whispering something to him behind his hand. The eye
turned towards St. Just was scarred and sightless. St. Just did not
need to be told that the man before him was the redoubted English
Admiral, Lord Nelson.
The Admiral turned to St. Just and asked him: "Do you know the contents
of the despatches of which you are the bearer?"
The Frenchman drew himself up to an erect position and saluted in
military fashion.
"I do not, Sir," he replied promptly.
"Detail how you became possessed of them."
Every eye was turned keenly on St. Just, as though to read how far he
spoke the truth.
Calmly and deliberately he related the circumstances; how that, having
been imprisoned for so long, he had been offered his liberty, provided
he delivered these despatches to a Buonapartist agent in London; how
that he had not been given the least inkling of what was in them, nor
any oral message for the agent. Then, mindful of Halima's injunctions,
he went on to say that he had shown the papers to his wife, who had
taken then to the Prime Minister. He could tell the Admiral nothing
more.
There was a moment's silence, and then an elderly officer at the end of
the table laughed.