I was now fairly embarked upon my adventure, the various difficulties of
which seemed suddenly to present themselves to my mind in all their
formidable reality. While safe on board the frigate, surrounded by my
shipmates, they had appeared to be the veriest trifles, scarcely worth a
serious thought; but now that I stood alone in an enemy's country, with
nothing to depend upon but my own sagacity and nerve, I saw in an
instant--as though the truth had been revealed by a lightning-flash--
that I had indeed undertaken a task, the successful performance of which
would tax to their utmost extent every one of the qualities for which
the skipper had given me credit.
However, I was now irretrievably in for it; there was no possibility of
backing out, had I been ever so inclined--but I was not; I would have
died first--so pulling myself together, and conquering by a strong
effort a curious quaky sensation which had for a moment oppressed me, I
set out upon my journey.
The spot to which I was bound was a chateau situated about eighteen
miles inland, in the very heart of the mountain district. It was the
property of Count Lorenzo Paoli, the brother of the General Paoli who,
at the head of the Corsican insurgents, was then endeavouring to drive
the French out of the island. My despatches--or whatever they were--
were for Count Lorenzo; and though I was of course unacquainted with
their contents, I surmised that they had relation to some probable
assistance to be rendered by the English to the Corsicans. Under
ordinary circumstances my mission would have been extremely easy of
accomplishment; but, as I have already remarked, the island was in a
thoroughly unsettled state, almost every male inhabitant being in arms.
The French, irritated by the rising of the Corsicans, and imbued with
that feeling of cold-blooded and demoniacal ferocity which developed
itself during the Reign of Terror, rendering that period of French
history for ever infamous, were of course those from whom I had most to
fear. But the Corsicans, their naturally excitable temperament raised
to frenzy by the atrocities of the French, rendered suspicious by
frequent treachery, and impetuously rushing into a system of the most
hideous reprisals, were almost equally dangerous, their creed being that
he who was not with them must necessarily be against them; and their
proceedings with regard to suspected persons were rumoured to be of the
most summary character. Lastly, there were the brigands, composed
principally of the very dregs of Corsican society, a community made up
of all the criminality in the island, thieves, murderers, escaped
convicts, and outcasts of every description, utterly destitute of the
faintest spark of honour, patriotism, _or_ humanity, preying upon friend
and foe alike, and outstripping both in deeds of fiendish cruelty. As I
thought these matters over, it seemed to me that my only safety lay in
the most careful avoidance of every human eye, pursuing my journey
during the dead of night, and lying _perdu_ throughout the day.
A walk of two or three hundred yards along the main road brought me to
the "turning-off" on the right, which I was directed to follow in order
to gain the chateau. It appeared to be quite a by-road, so narrow that
there seemed scarcely room for two vehicles to pass, and it was in a
most wretched condition, the surface being ploughed into deep broad
ruts, and completely cut up by the feet of cattle.
It led apparently through the heart of an extensive forest, the trees of
which, uniting their branches overhead, must have veiled the way in
semi-obscurity even at noon-day. When I turned into it--at about two
o'clock a.m.--the starlit sky gave just sufficient light to enable me to
pursue my way along the main road; but by the time I had penetrated a
couple of hundred yards into this by-path, I was enveloped in a
perfectly Egyptian darkness. By degrees, however, my vision became
accustomed to the gloom, and I stumbled on over the uneven ground for a
distance of some twelve miles, when daylight began to appear through the
leafy canopy overhead, and prudence suggested to me the desirability of
forthwith seeking some safe hiding-place wherein to pass the day and
take that repose of which I was beginning to feel the need. I therefore
turned off the road and plunged into the forest for about a quarter of a
mile, when I came upon a dense and almost impenetrable thicket which
seemed admirably suited to my purpose; I accordingly forced my way into
it until I found a spot of clear ground wide enough to stretch myself
upon comfortably, when flinging myself upon the turf, and placing my bag
beneath my head, I almost immediately dropped off into a deep and
dreamless slumber.
It was just three o'clock in the afternoon when I awoke. My somewhat
unwonted exertions of the previous night had greatly fatigued me, and I
should probably have slept on until darkness had once more returned, had
it not been for a wandering sun-ray which had found its way through the
branches overhead, and, shining directly in my face, had awakened me. I
awoke stiff, ravenously hungry, and parched with thirst. I had had the
forethought to provide against an inopportune attack of the former
feeling, by putting a biscuit or two in my pocket; but in the excitement
of coming away I had omitted--as I now found to my chagrin--to bring my
flask with me. I accordingly brought out my biscuits, and endeavoured
to make a meal of them alone, but they were, like all biscuits, dry, and
my throat was so parched that I found I could scarcely swallow a
mouthful. While struggling with this little difficulty a faint breeze
brought to my ear a sound which I decided must be the rushing of a
distant stream over its rocky bed, and thinking of nothing at the moment
so much as my intense thirst, I sprang to my feet, and seizing my bag,
set out in the direction from which the sound appeared to come.
My progress was anything but rapid, the ground being entirely overgrown
with creepers and thick shrubs, but that I was proceeding in the right
direction was satisfactorily demonstrated by the increasing distinctness
with which I could hear the sound of the rushing water.
My exertions in the close and stifling atmosphere of the wood soon made
me uncomfortably warm, at the same time increasing my thirst to an
almost unbearable degree, but there was nothing for it but patience, so
I pushed on, panting and perspiring, as rapidly as it was possible for
me to get over the ground. As I continued to advance, the sound
increased in volume, though it still appeared to come from a
considerable distance, and I at length came to the conclusion that it
was not caused so much by the rush of the river over its bed as by the
fall of the water down a cataract. The surmise eventually proved to be
correct, for after an hour and a half of severe exertion, the latter
half-hour of which I had been journeying over steeply-rising ground, I
found myself beside a considerable stream, the waters of which, about a
hundred yards higher up, came foaming and tumbling down from a height of
some fifty feet, through a deep cleft in the face of the rock, into a
deep, transparent pool, from whence they passed away over a rocky bed,
and wound out of sight among the trees.
It was a lovely spot upon which I had thus stumbled. The ground rose
abruptly on both sides of the stream; that on the opposite side being a
rocky precipice, the strata of variously-coloured stone twisted and
contorted in the most extraordinary manner, geraniums of various hues
growing out from between the interstices of the rock, and the summit of
the precipice crowned with a rich profusion of trailing creepers, some
of which, notwithstanding the time of year, were in blossom, and the
perfume of which scented the air.
Round the mossy rim of the basin into which the waters fell, and which
appeared to be always damp with spray, grew a profusion of exquisitely
delicate ferns; the sward beyond was thickly starred with a species of
double daisy and the elegant hyacinth, and enclosing all was the pine
wood through which I had been travelling.
The beauties of the place, however, had no attraction for me until I had
in some measure assuaged my burning thirst, which I did by going down
upon my hands and knees on a convenient rock, and plunging my heated
face into the cool, pellucid water. I was careful to drink at first
with extreme moderation, and then, having satisfied the first sharp
craving for a draught, I stripped and plunged in, treating myself to as
thorough an ablution as was possible in the absence of my cake of old
brown Windsor. Refreshed and invigorated with the bath, I at length
emerged, and dressing with all expedition, sat down to discuss my
biscuits, which I disposed of to the last mouthful, gazing admiringly
upon my surroundings meanwhile.
My meal finished, it became necessary for me to set out forthwith in
search of the road which was to guide me to my destination. I had no
intention whatever of retracing my steps over the ground already
traversed. In the first place, I was exceedingly doubtful whether I
could find my way back to the spot from which I had started, and in the
next, I considered that it would be simply a waste of time and strength.
I had not been altogether unmindful of the course I was steering while
seeking for the river, and I was of opinion that though I had been
travelling rather away from the road, if anything, yet on the whole my
course had been pretty much in its direction. In order to regain it,
therefore, all that seemed necessary was to make my way in a direction
about at right angles with my former course.
I accordingly edged away in what I judged to be the right direction,
choosing my ground, however, more with a view to easy than to direct
progress. I estimated that it would occupy about an hour, or perhaps an
hour and a half--certainly not more--to regain the road, and as I was
anxious to do this before it became quite dark, I pushed rapidly
forward, and the wood growing somewhat more open as I proceeded, with
less undergrowth, I made very fair progress.
The hour which I had allowed myself passed, and still there was no sign
of the road. I felt sure, however, that it could not be far away, and
at all events I was going in the right direction, the ground rising
continuously, so I carried on under a heavy press of sail, expecting
every moment to emerge into the beaten track, and growing increasingly
anxious to do so as I noted the rapidity with which darkness was falling
upon the scene, notwithstanding the fact that the trees were by this
time so far apart and the ground so clear that walking was as easy as it
would have been on the road itself. In this state of mingled hope and
anxiety I hurried on for another hour, still without hitting upon the
road; by which time it had become so dark that I grew fearful of losing
my way. The stars had appeared, and shone brilliantly, their light,
however, being insufficient to enable me to see where I was going; so
after stumbling on over the uneven ground for a quarter of an hour
longer, during which I experienced more than one awkward tumble, the
conclusion forced itself upon me that I had strayed somewhat from the
right direction, and had better defer until the next morning any further
effort to discover the lost road.
Having arrived at this conclusion, my next business was to find a
tolerably comfortable spot in which to bestow myself for the night.
While searching for this, I quite unexpectedly reached the edge of the
wood, and in another minute stood beyond its boundary, finding myself
upon a broad expanse of rugged, open moorland, at the farther extremity
of which the ground again rose steeply until it terminated in what was
evidently the ridge of the mountain-chain running north and south
through the island.
Two circumstances struck me at the same moment on emerging into the
open, one of which was that a heavy thunder-storm was rapidly working up
against the wind, the other being that a hut or hovel of some sort stood
about half a mile distant.
The question immediately arose in my mind whether I should approach this
building, upon the chance of obtaining a night's lodging therein, or
whether it would be more prudent to pass the night and brave the
gathering storm in the open. I might of course have returned to the
comparative shelter of the wood, but I should have been obliged to
penetrate it for some distance before it would be thick enough to afford
me the slightest protection from the deluge of rain which was coming up
in those black and threatening clouds, and, in addition to this, I felt
that, while only inadequately sheltered from the rain, I should be
exposed to the very serious danger of being struck by lightning. Then
again, it was possible that the hut might be deserted, in which case I
need have no hesitation about availing myself of its shelter. There was
of course, on the other hand, a chance of its being inhabited, but if
so, its occupant would probably be no one more dangerous than a simple
herd or wood-cutter, and it was not from such that I had anything to
fear. As I stood irresolute, turning these matters over in my mind, a
vivid flash of lightning, followed, after a pause of some seconds, by
the long reverberating roll of distant thunder, reminded me of the
desirability of coming to a decision, one way or another, without delay;
I accordingly made up my mind to risk going to the hut, rather than
remain exposed to the storm.
I therefore hurried forward, the lightning meanwhile flashing out more
and more vividly, and at shorter intervals; the thunder sounding louder
and nearer at every discharge; and the vast curtain of cloud spreading
rapidly athwart the sky, obliterating the stars, and enveloping nature
in a pall of awful gloom.
On approaching the hut, it became apparent that it was uninhabited, for
the door hung pendent from one hinge, the other being wrenched off,
while of the two small windows which admitted light to the interior, one
sash was gone altogether, the aperture being completely denuded of every
vestige of woodwork, while the other was protected only by a battered
and weather-stained wooden shutter. The edifice itself was constructed
of sods, the roof being roughly framed together with branches--no doubt
lopped from the trees of the neighbouring wood--and thatched.
I reached the building only just in time. While yet a hundred yards or
so from it, the cool night-breeze dropped all in a moment, and was
succeeded by a hushed and breathless calm. An awful silence suddenly
fell upon nature, the myriad insect voices became mute, the night-birds
ceased to utter their melancholy cries, the sighing of the wind through
the trees of the distant wood was no longer heard; a hush of dread
expectancy ensued. A few seconds elapsed, and then a mysterious murmur
filled the air, the trees swayed and tossed their branches wildly for a
moment, a fierce gust of hot air swept past, and all was still again. I
dashed forward and reached the doorway, and as I passed across the
threshold, the canopy of cloud overhead was rent open, a blinding flash
of livid lightning blazed out, illumining for a single instant the whole
landscape, as well as the interior of the building, and at the same
instant came a deafening crash, such as might occur were the universe
suddenly to crumble into ruin. So near was the lightning that I really
fancied (if it _was_ fancy and not fact after all) I could feel it
scorch my cheek, and there could be no doubt whatever about the strong
sulphurous smell which pervaded the atmosphere.
Again and yet again flashed forth the terrible lightning, crash on crash
came the thunder, and then the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and
the rain came rushing down in a perfect torrent.
I expected nothing less than to be speedily flooded out, but fortunately
the roof of the hut proved weather-tight, and the rain happening to beat
upon the back of the house, in which were no openings, the interior of
the place remained perfectly dry.
I took advantage of the frequent lightning-flashes to survey the
interior of my place of shelter, which I ascertained to be entirely
devoid of furniture of every kind, there being absolutely nothing in the
place except a heap of wood in one corner, composed of dry twigs and
branches, probably gathered from the adjacent forest.
I stood in the doorway for some time, watching the magnificent spectacle
of the storm, until an increasing sensation of fatigue reminded me of
the desirability of resting while I had the opportunity. I accordingly
fixed upon a spot which seemed tolerably free from the eddies of wind
which found easy access to the building, and first, by some strange
instinct for which I cannot account, concealing the bag in which were
the despatches among the wood stacked in the corner, placed my back
against the wall, and folding my arms soon dropped off into a deep
sleep, lulled thereto by the sound of the pouring rain upon the root.
I seemed to have been asleep but a few minutes, when I became conscious
of an odour of burning pine; then through my still-closed eyelids I
perceived that the hut was lighted up. I heard the crackling sound of
the blazing torch, and, as consciousness fully returned, I also heard
voices speaking in a low tone in French.
"Are you quite certain this is he? Why, he is a mere lad!" I heard a
voice exclaim.
"Quite sure, noble signor," replied another voice, gruff, harsh, and
repellent. "I could see plainly, though the night was dark; I had been
watching the approach of the boat, and had been lying so long concealed
in the darkest part of the ruins that my eyes had grown thoroughly
accustomed to the gloom, so that when I followed this one and the other
to the road, it seemed quite light. Moreover, they both passed close to
me as I was making my way through the trees towards the road, and I saw
their faces distinctly enough to recognise them both again wherever I
might meet them. I never forget a face I have once seen," the voice
added in a sinister tone.
"Umph!" ejaculated the first voice. "I can scarcely credit that the
English captain would be fool enough to entrust important despatches to
so young an officer. Poor lad! how soundly he sleeps; he must have lost
his way and been wandering aimlessly about in the wood. By-the-way, did
you hear him say where he had secreted those same despatches?"
"No, signor, I did not; but he had a bag with him when he landed, no
doubt they are in that."
"A bag? What sort of a bag? I see no bag here anywhere. Perhaps--look
here, Monsieur Guiseppe, or whatever your name is, I hope you are not
playing fast and loose with us. You have not stolen the bag and handed
over the despatches to some of your own people, claiming a reward for
the safe conveyance of such important documents, eh?"
"Stolen? For what does your mightiness take me?"
"For a traitor, my good fellow--nay, no occasion to snatch at your knife
in that threatening fashion; it is dangerous, for I am a hasty man, and
apt to use these without much reflection," and I heard the click of a
pistol-lock. "I am sorry if I have wounded your delicate sense of
honour, but when a man sells his own countrymen for gold, one is a
little--just a trifle, you know--apt to be suspicious of him."
"A man _must_ live," responded the churlish voice. "I have a wife and
children to feed and clothe, and no man would employ me. If I have
turned traitor, it is because I have been driven to it."
"No doubt, no doubt," remarked the other speaker in a somewhat sarcastic
tone of voice. "The good Corsicans, your fellow-countrymen, have
perhaps been weak enough to allow your slightly singular cast of
countenance to prejudice them against you, eh? Well, I really cannot
blame them; you must yourself admit that it is the reverse of
prepossessing."
"I am as God made me," growled the traitorous Corsican.
"Say rather, as the devil and your own evil passions made you," retorted
the Frenchman. "Do not libel your Creator by attributing to Him any
share in the work of moulding a visage whereon the words `treachery,
avarice, theft, and murder' are printed in large capitals. You may
possibly have been born simply ugly, but your present hang-dog cast of
countenance is entirely your own handiwork, my good friend Guiseppe.
Now _pray_ do not fumble at your knife again, that is an excessively bad
habit which you have contracted; take my advice and break it off. If
you do not, it will assuredly get you into serious trouble some day."
The individual thus addressed muttered some inaudible reply, which
sounded, however, very much like an imprecation, to which his tormentor
responded with a gay laugh. Then I heard the door creak upon its
solitary hinge and scrape along the ground, as it was dragged open, and
the voice of the Frenchman said, addressing some one outside,--
"Well, Pierre, how are things in general looking by this time?"
"Much better, _mon sergent_" replied another voice. "The rain has
ceased, the clouds are dispersing, and yonder appears the first gleam of
daybreak."
"That is well," remarked the sergeant. "We will wait another half-hour,
by which time it will be light enough to see where we are going, and
then we must march once more."
The door creaked-to again; I heard a sound as of some one settling
himself comfortably, and then all was once more silent, save for the
sound of heavy breathing, of which I had been cognisant all through the
foregoing conversation.
I had been fully awakened, as may easily be supposed, by almost the
first words which I had distinctly heard; but I had presence of mind
enough not to give any indication of the fact. It was clear that this
rascally Corsican--who appeared to be regularly in league with the
enemy--had unfortunately witnessed my landing, and he must also have
overhead and understood much if not all of the conversation which had
passed between Rawlings and myself. And it seemed equally clear that he
had put the Frenchmen upon my track, and that to him I was chiefly
indebted for my unlucky capture--for of course I _was_ a prisoner,
though they had not roused me to make me acquainted with the fact. As
soon as the conversation ceased, I rapidly turned the circumstances over
in my mind, and decided upon two things, one of which was to keep secret
my knowledge of the French language, and the other, to act upon the idea
suggested by the sergeant's words, and lead him to believe that my bag
with the despatches had been stolen from me. For the rest, I was unable
to form any plan, my original one of passing for a German art student
being completely knocked on the head by the Corsican's discovery; so I
resolved to be governed by the turn which events might take.
On one thing I was resolved, and that was to keep careful watch for an
opportunity to escape, as I was in imminent risk of being hanged or shot
at any moment, so long as I remained a prisoner.
Notwithstanding my anxiety, I was dozing off once more, when footsteps
approached me, a hand was laid on my shoulder, and the voice of the
sergeant exclaimed in French, "Hallo, here! awake, my young friend,
awake!"
I opened my eyes with a start, and saw standing before me a young man of
about four-and-twenty years of age. He was dressed in the uniform of a
French regiment of the line--blue tunic, red trowsers with a stripe of
yellow braid down the seam, red forage cap trimmed with the same, and
his sword buckled close up to his belt. He had dark hair and eyes, the
latter of which beamed upon me good-naturedly, and he had a pleasant
expression of countenance, which afforded me much comfort.
Seated or reclining in more or less uncomfortable attitudes against the
walls of the hut were some five-and-twenty men wearing a similar
uniform, their muskets being piled in the middle of the room; while,
apart from the rest, was a man standing with his back towards me, gazing
abstractedly out of the window. He was dressed in the ordinary Corsican
garb, and was leaning upon a long-barrelled musket, the butt of which
rested upon the floor, his hands being crossed upon the muzzle of the
barrel, and his chin resting upon them.
"Good morning!" said I in English to the sergeant, as I struggled to my
feet; "who are you, pray, and where have you come from?"
"Approach, most amiable Guiseppe, and lend us your valuable aid as
interpreter," said the sergeant, turning to the Corsican; "and see, my
friend, that you interpret correctly. What was it he said?"
The Corsican, whose brutal and sinister countenance fully justified the
sergeant's previous remarks upon it, translated my salutation into
excellent French.
"Tell him," said the sergeant, "that you saw him land, and overheard
sufficient of his conversation with his fellow-officer to satisfy you
that he is the bearer of despatches from the English to one of your
countrymen; that you betrayed him, and that I and my men were in
consequence sent out to scour the country in search of him. Tell him
also that, being found, he may make up his mind to be hanged before
sunset; or--no, do not say anything about the hanging at present, he
will know all about that soon enough, poor lad!"
The rascal translated this speech in a manner to suit himself; that is,
he said never a word concerning his own treachery, but to make up for
the omission he included that part which had reference to my probable
speedy fate.
Of course I had learned pretty much all this in the first conversation
between him and the sergeant; it was no news to me, but it terribly
confirmed the surmises which had suggested themselves to my mind when I
first became conscious that I was a prisoner. There was a single ray of
hope, it is true, to which I clung, but it was by no means bright. I
was evidently to be taken before his commanding officer, and I would
acquaint him with the fact of my being a British officer, and claim to
be treated as a prisoner of war. But then there was the ugly fact of my
being in plain clothes--how was that to be got over? There was of
course the shadow of a possibility that I might get out of my
difficulties, could I but fabricate a sufficiently ingenious string of
falsehoods; but now that it actually came to the point, I could not
bring myself to the depths of meanness and cowardice which this
involved. I had learned at school the maxim that "liars never prosper,"
and my dear old father had taught me to avoid falsehood from much higher
considerations than those of mere temporal prosperity. I determined
therefore that, whatever the danger, I would not endeavour to shield
myself by anything so despicable as a lie.
In the meantime it was no use to be down-hearted over my misfortune,
that would only tend to make matters worse instead of better; besides
which, I had no notion of showing my enemies that I was disheartened or
apprehensive; so I brightened up, and assuming a great deal more
nonchalance than I felt, I directed the Corsican to inquire our
destination, and also to say that I hoped we should breakfast before
starting, as I felt frightfully hungry.
He interpreted my question, adding that, as he supposed the sergeant
could find his way back to Ajaccio without assistance, he would now
leave us, as he had several matters requiring his immediate attention.
Before going, however, he trusted that the sergeant would pay him the
reward promised in case of my capture, or give him a note to the
colonel, certifying that he had duly performed his contract.
The sergeant seemed rather surprised at the proposal; beyond expressing,
however, an ironical regret that the party was to be deprived of Master
Guiseppe's entertaining society, he made no demur, and drawing an old
letter from his pocket he scribbled in pencil on the inner side of the
envelope the required certificate, which he handed over to the Corsican
with the remark,--
"There you are, most glorious Apollo; take care of it, for it is worth
_more_ than you are likely to honestly earn for many a year to come.
Will you stay and have some breakfast? No? Well, good-bye then for the
present; I dare say we shall meet again."
"Assuredly, signor, and not long hence, I trust. For breakfast I have
all I require with me, and I shall eat as I travel, since time is
precious with me, and I wish to get a lift as far as Ajaccio in one or
other of the market carts. _Au revoir_!"
The Corsican flung his musket over his shoulder as he spoke, and,
thrusting the certificate into his ammunition pouch, strode out of the
hut and disappeared, just as one of the men entered with a pot of hot
coffee, which had been prepared outside.
Upon this the sergeant produced some bread and meat from his wallet, and
drawing forth a knife divided it into two equal parts, one of which he
offered me, saying,--
"Come, _mon enfant_, eat and be merry while you have the opportunity.
We have a long tramp before us, and for you there is probably a still
longer journey afterwards; still, do not let that spoil your appetite.
We cannot understand each other, but I am sorry for you, _pauvre
garcon_! and we may as well be friends for the short time that remains."
He offered me his hand, as he said this, which I shook heartily.
The speech was by no means calculated to raise my spirits, but I took
pains to conceal my knowledge of its import, hoping that my supposed
ignorance of the language would cause the men to speak unrestrainedly to
each other, and perhaps let fall some piece of information of value,
should I see a chance to make my escape.
We fell to at our breakfast, for which, strange to say, I had a very
tolerable appetite, notwithstanding the disastrous turn which my affairs
had taken, and the soldiers, producing what provisions they had, also
set their teeth to work upon them with a will, laughing and chattering
gaily together meanwhile, but without letting drop any information
likely to help me out of my difficulty.
Breakfast over, the men fell in. I was placed in the centre of the
body, the sergeant giving instructions to those having my more immediate
custody to shoot me on the instant, should I make any attempt to escape.
The word was given to march, and we tramped away across the moor for
about a couple of miles, when we struck upon a beaten track, into which
we turned, and which I learned from a remark made by one of the men was
the road to Ajaccio.