That same afternoon the sloop of war was lying close inshore, with the
brig and schooner near at hand, when a barge put off from the
landing-place bearing the Governor and other officials, who were
received at the gangway of the sloop with the customary salute, and
shortly afterwards a little informal court was held, with the prisoners
present, while the First Lieutenant of the sloop gave evidence to the
effect that just after dark he had observed, from the anchorage where
the sloop lay, a light, evidently intended for a signal, exhibited in a
peculiar way from the masthead of some vessel.
He had noticed the brig now lying at anchor some distance in the offing
early in the evening, but an adverse wind had prevented the sloop from
going out. This light appeared at intervals during the next two hours,
and on reporting the matter to the captain it was considered
sufficiently suspicious for the brig from which it evidently came to be
overhauled. This was done during the night; the prisoners brought in;
and they were here to give an account of themselves.
Upon being asked if there was any difficulty in overhauling and seizing
the brig, which appeared to be well manned and armed, the lieutenant
smiled and said no, for the simple ruse of answering the brig's signal
by the exhibition of lights in a similar way brought her close inshore,
and then in the darkness the rest was easy, for it fell perfectly calm,
and the sudden advance in the darkness of three well-armed boats made
resistance vain.
"They offered no resistance, then?" asked the Governor.
"Oh yes," was the reply; "a very brave resistance; but they were
overpowered by numbers and brought in."
As this evidence was given the Count and his son stood together, the
former looking calm and dignified, the latter defiant, and when asked
what defence he had to make for his clandestine approach to a place
where it must have been well-known to him landing could be only allowed
by the special permission of the Governor, and told that it was
perfectly evident his coming could have but one intent, to aid in the
escape of the prisoner who had been so long in the island--the Count
spoke out at once bravely and earnestly in the defence of those who were
there standing as fellow-prisoners.
He wished, he said, to exonerate the English doctor and the captain of
the schooner from all participation in his attempt. They had met on the
high seas quite by accident, and finding how carefully the prison of his
august master was watched, he had led the doctor into the belief that he
too was engaged upon a scientific expedition.
Just then the eyes of the two lads met, and as Rodd darted an angry
indignant look at Morny, the latter made a deprecating gesture, while he
seemed to say, Be merciful; you do not know all.
The Count went on, taking the whole blame of the proceedings upon
himself, and asking for mercy for his son, who had acted entirely under
his orders and had been perfectly obedient, as a son should be. As he
spoke these words he looked hard at Rodd, and then at his uncle, who
stood frowning there.
"I failed in my enterprise," continued the Count, "for I was growing
desperate at the difficulties which surrounded me. Certain signals
should have answered mine, and the lights which were shown from the
direction of the shore were not exactly those which I anticipated. But,
as I have said, I was growing desperate at my want of success, and in
the hope that after all these signals might mean that my august master
would be brought off in a fishing-boat, I risked all and allowed myself
to be deluded, as it were, into what proved to be a trap. I have no
more to say, gentlemen, save this, that I ask no mercy for myself.
Whatever the English laws award to one who has acted as I have done, I
accept. But my son, as I have said, was entirely under my orders, and
as for my crew, they have only been my faithful servants, and tried to
carry out my will. England must be too brave to wish to punish such as
these. As to the doctor, his nephew, and the crew of the schooner, it
would be absurd for England after my explanation to say more to them
than `Go in peace.'"
There was perfect silence for a minute or so, and then the Governor, one
of his staff, an officer of foot who was the commander of the military
force stationed in the island, and the captain of the sloop, held a
short consultation together, after which the officers drew back into
their places and left the Governor to speak.
"Dr Robson," he said, "Captain Ellison, in command of the sloop of war,
has told me of his previous meeting with you at the mouth of one of the
West African rivers, and the way in which your vessel was fitted out,
and of the state of your papers. Everything, in fact, goes to prove the
perfect truth of your story and the fact of your ignorance of the plan
for the escape of the prisoner. I can offer you no apology for your
being made prisoner and brought here, for I think that due consideration
will prove to you that you were somewhat imprudent in your action and
choice of friend. You and yours, sir, are perfectly at liberty to leave
the island at once. As for you, Count Des Saix," he continued, "as the
Governor of this island I have certain duties to perform, and after such
an important and daring attempt as yours, I must tell you that in spite
of peculiar circumstances which I will refer to shortly, this matter
cannot end here. It is an affair of diplomacy in which others are
concerned as well as England. For the present you and your people must
consider yourselves prisoners pending the arrival of the dispatches that
I must send to the British Government. Yours, sir, was a daring and
extremely hazardous plot, designed in extravagance and I may say in
ignorance of the impossibility of its execution. The prisoner was too
closely guarded and watched, and, as you have seen, it was quite
impossible for your vessel to approach this island without being seized.
I gather that you have been a naval officer in the service of the late
Government of France, and I presume that it was from a feeling of
devotion to the Emperor Napoleon--I should say, our prisoner here--that
you and your friends devoted yourselves to this task, which has proved
so signal a failure. Sir, I can only admire your act and the devotion
of the followers of the late Emperor."
"Sir, to us," cried the Count, "your way of speaking of our august
master is little better than an insult. With us there is no late
Emperor; he is still the ruler of the French Empire, our august master
while he lives."
"Sir," said the Governor, slowly and gravely, "mine is the painful duty
to announce to you that my words were well chosen and correct, that your
designs were as hopeless as they were vain; the late Emperor Napoleon
died two nights since."
The Count gave a violent start, gazing wildly in the Governor's eyes, as
if asking whether his words were true. Then turning to his son he took
off his cap and stood in silence with his head bowed down, before saying
in a low broken voice that reached no farther than the ears of Uncle
Paul and Rodd--
"Morny, my son, we were faithful to the end, even though we failed. Our
august master is free at last. But our country lives, and in the future
there is always for us _la France_."
There were several meetings between Uncle Paul, Rodd, and the
prisoners--if prisoners they could be deemed, for their captivity was of
the easiest kind--before the schooner set sail for England and home, and
during one of these, when all seemed once more the best of friends, the
doctor was heard to say--
"Yes, of course, I forgive him now, and you know, Des Saix, since that
sort of a trial we had I have never said one word of reproach. I was
not going to trample on a fallen man. But, you know, all that business,
to use a coarse old English expression, sticks in my gizzard. It was
not honourable, nor gentlemanly; I won't add noble. I don't think you
ought to have done it to one who trusted you and helped you as I did.
Now, look here; do you think it was a good example to set your son?"
"My friend," said the Count humbly--"May I still call you my friend?"
"As long as you live, sir!" cried the doctor warmly.
"Then I say to you, No; it was dishonourable, treacherous, and vile.
But my sword was devoted to the service of my dead master, my life was
his, and I was ready to give all to save him from his unhappy fate. Can
I say more than this: I have sinned. Forgive."
As matters turned out it was many, many months, owing to an accident to
the schooner and the delays in re-fitting at Las Palmas, and long stays
made in the Mediterranean--the entrance to which could not be passed
without a cruise within--before the _Maid of Salcombe_ approached the
English coast, and, oddly enough, once more Captain Chubb was driven to
take refuge for a few hours at Havre-de-Grace, where one of the first
things to be noticed was the familiar brig.
Inquiries followed at last, and Rodd and his uncle learned that the
vessel had been lying there for some time while her captain, the Count,
and his son were at Paris.
No: the officer in charge of the brig could give no information about
their residence in Paris, but he had heard that they were not going to
sail in the brig again, as they were about being appointed to a large
ship in the King's Navy.
"Humph, Rodd!" said the doctor. "This sounds like good news."
"Yes, uncle, but we must try and see them again."
"Would you like to?"
"Of course!" cried Rodd warmly. "For a good long talk about old days."
"Perhaps," said the doctor, "they may hear of our return, and may try to
see us."
"And if they do, uncle?"
"Well," said the doctor, smiling, "they know our address."