Ten or twelve days after the events recorded in our last chapter, a
very happy and pleasant party were assembled in the grand saloon of the
Château Coulancourt.
Madame Coulancourt, her son Julian, her daughter Mabel, and our hero,
were now together; each had related to the other his or her various
adventures, and now all their attention and object was directed to an
escape to England. Madame de Coulancourt had arrived from Paris two
days before; need we describe her rapture and joy, when Julian threw
himself into her arms—the son so long lost, and so deeply lamented?
Madame de Coulancourt was still a beautiful and fascinating woman,
scarcely more than forty. Her ardent desire was to quit France
for ever; she cared not for the loss of property. Coulancourt was
all she could lose, having sold her other estates for nearly two
hundred thousand francs. This Jean Plessis had managed, through
the instrumentality of one of the directors, named Barras, a man
of the most depraved and dissolute life, and of the most unbounded
extravagance. At this time Barras had almost unlimited power; he was
one of the three remaining directors. The other two, though men of
stern integrity of purpose, were yet ruled by Barras, who alone of the
three was capable of receiving foreign ambassadors, holding levées,
and giving entertainments, for he was possessed of easy and polished
manners, and put off the strange fantastic dress the directors at that
period attired themselves in, assuming the graceful costume of the days
of chivalry, the doublet and plumed bonnet of Francis I.
Barras was totally unprincipled; he sold almost every office in his
power to enable him to keep up his vain and luxurious career. The
terrible depravity and licentiousness that prevailed in France at this
era, it is well known, was the result of deplorable corruption. Barras
permitted the sale of Madame de Coulancourt’s property, reserving for
himself the half of whatever it produced; thus Jean Plessis managed to
secure the other half, as well at to obtain permission for her to visit
Château Coulancourt.
The fearful state of France, and the horrid depravity of manners
prevailing in Paris, had first excited in Madame Coulancourt the
wish to attempt a flight to England. The only drawback that held her
irresolute was the fear of dragging Jean Plessis and his family into
trouble. But that gentleman was secure in the favour of Barras; and
declared, if her escape was to be attempted, it was whilst Barras was
in power. No human being could conjecture how long that power might
last, so conflicting and evanescent was everything in those days.
Monsieur Plessis and family were gone to Havre for a day or two,
to make some purchases; thus, only Madame Coulancourt, her son and
daughter, and Lieutenant Thornton, remained in the château with their
domestics and Rose. They were planning their intended project of
escaping into Flanders, and thence to England; but our hero thought
that mode of getting out of France hazardous in the extreme.
“I was conversing with Julian last night upon this subject,” he
observed, “and we both agreed that our flight could much more easily be
contrived by sea.”
“By sea!” repeated mother and daughter, “how procure a vessel? and
where embark? we should be detected at once, at any port in France.”
“I have a bold project in my head,” said the English lieutenant; “we
have hitherto escaped all suspicion; even Monsieur Gramont is growing
polite and affable, and pays you every attention.”
“Ah!” said Mabel, shaking her head, “I strongly doubt his politeness;
there is something working in his brain, I am sure. I have caught his
eye fixed upon you several times with a very meaning glance.”
The young man smiled, and looking affectionately at Mabel, said—
“If he had any suspicion he would never have allowed all this time to
elapse without acting. However, I will tell you how Julian and I have
thought of proceeding. The Vengeance privateer is almost ready for sea.
She is repaired, and all nearly complete, lying at anchor in a pool in
the creek; and, from what Rose Moret heard her brother-in-law say, it
is her captain’s intention, in a week or so, to take her round to Havre
for stores.”
“But, dear William,” observed Mabel, anxiously, “the idea of you and
Julian seizing this privateer with her crew on board is surely only an
imaginary project?”
“No, dearest, we are not so mad as that,” said Lieutenant Thornton,
with a smile. “You must hear me out. Captain O’Loughlin is still on
the coast with the Onyx corvette. Rose says her brother in his lugger
passed within hail of the Onyx the day before yesterday. Now, Julian
and I purpose to go to-morrow to Lyon Head, and have a look-out, and
to repeat our visit every day till we are able to make a signal to the
corvette. If we fail in establishing communication with her, of course
our project falls to the ground, for three persons could never dream
of capturing the Vengeance. To signal the Onyx is worth the trial,
however.”
“Well,” said Madame Coulancourt, after a moment’s thought, “I do think
William’s project has a chance of success; though all depends on being
able, as he says, of communicating with the corvette.”
“Then supposing you do communicate with Captain O’Loughlin,” said
Mabel, anxiously, “how would you proceed?”
“Oh! nothing easier in that case,” interrupted Julian, eagerly, “with
a boat’s crew we should seize the Vengeance, which William is so
desperately anxious to do, to pay off Captain Gaudet for his cruelty,
embark you on board, and before any alarm could be given at Havre, we
should be at sea, and with the corvette hold our own against any armed
crafts sent after us.”
“Would not this involve Jean Plessis with the authorities?” asked
Madame Coulancourt.
“Not more than any other mode of escape,” replied her nephew; “but
Monsieur Plessis is so secure of the favour of Barras, and has him so
much in his power, that he feels very little uneasiness even if he
remained behind. Though he has not yet spoken to you on the subject,
he is nearly as anxious to quit France with his family as you are.
The precariousness of life and property in this country urges him to
emigrate and settle in England; and I have offered him,” continued
Lieutenant Thornton, “on succeeding to the property I am entitled
to, the stewardship over the whole, and a sufficient annuity to live
independently on.”
“Oh! I am sure,” cried both Madame Coulancourt and Mabel, eagerly,
“if that is Jean Plessis’ wish and intention we shall both be able to
render him not only independent, but most comfortable. He has all his
life,” continued madame, “served the duke my husband, and myself, with
unshaken fidelity, and I feel towards him as towards one connected with
my family with ties of relationship. Julian also will be entitled to
the Etherton property, though, at the same time, it will be cruel to
deprive those now in possession of all they have so long considered
their own; therefore, some kind of decision ought to take place. I am
sure Julian will agree with me.”
“Most certainly, dear mother; my uncle or his son—the latter now
holds the title and property—were innocently inheritors of it,
and to deprive them of all now might involve them in difficulties
insurmountable.”
“And yet,” said Lieutenant Thornton, somewhat sternly, “they,
especially the late baronet, felt no pity or remorse in not only
refusing Mabel’s claims, but in adding insult and mockery to their
heartlessness, though they knew in their hearts that my poor little
_protégée_, as I was then in the habit of styling her, was thrown in a
manner helpless upon the exertions of two poor sailors.”
“And nobly the two poor sailors protected little Mabel,” said our
heroine, the tears rising in her eyes, as she looked with devoted
affection into the face of her lover.
“I, at all events, dear Mabel,” said our hero, “am richly repaid, by
living in the memory of her I protected to the best of my ability.”
“Ah!” said Madame Coulancourt, with an earnestness unmistakable, “would
to God we were all in dear England! What I have suffered in this land
I can never tell; even when restored to liberty, living in Paris, and
forced to enter society to avoid the remarks, and the secret espionage
of the Minister of Police. When the constraint and gloom of the Jacobin
rule was discarded, the thirst for amusement and dissipation that
followed was carried to an unbounded and disgusting excess, in manners,
in attire, and in immorality. It was only in the circles of Madame
Josephine Beauharnais, that most amiable of women, and Madame Canabas,
whose beauty was perfectly entrancing, and Madame de Stäel, that a
refuge was to be obtained from the licentiousness everywhere else
openly and unblushingly displayed. You would scarcely believe it, but
I was forced to attend balls, where none but the relations of persons
who had suffered death under the axe of the guillotine were allowed to
appear. Our hair also was tied up as it would have been previous to
execution. These fêtes were termed ‘Balls of the victims.’ Then came
the dreadful famine; ah! memory will always cling to the scenes of the
past, and yet how truly merciful has Providence been to me! Have I not
my children? It is wrong to murmur, whilst joy and thankfulness should
fill my heart.”
Lieutenant Thornton had his eyes fixed upon his aunt; he thought he had
never beheld a face possessing so perfectly fascinating an expression.
In her youth she must have been—lovely as Mabel was—much more
beautiful; her height was tall and commanding, with easy and graceful
manner. The evening passed pleasantly over, conversing on the past, and
proposing many schemes for the future.
Monsieur Gramont was said to have gone to Paris; all appeared tranquil
around them. Lieutenant Thornton and Julian Arden, the following
morning, set out for a visit to Lyon Head, to have a look out over old
ocean. The month was not yet out during which the Onyx was expected to
be cruising on and off the coast, and the two young men hoped to be
able, during their trips to the Head, to get a glimpse of her, for they
both knew what a sincere, anxious friend Captain O’Loughlin was, and
how determinedly he would keep his word, provided his duty permitted
him to do so. The distance to Lyon Head from the château was scarcely
six miles, and, by avoiding the village, the road led through a very
deserted part of the country, and across ranges of sand hills.
Skirting the village, the two young men soon came in upon the desert
track, and commenced traversing those singular mountains of sand, many
of them above one hundred feet in height, and covered with a wild and
curious species of vegetation, peculiar to them and their soil. These
sand hills were three miles in breadth, and terminated at the eastern
extremity by a rocky shore. Long before they reached Lyon Head they
obtained a clear view of the sea to the westward; but the entrance to
Havre was shut out from their sight by the cliffs of Caux. They could
see many vessels, making evidently for the mouth of the Seine, but
no vessel of war met their anxious gaze. On gaining the Head, they
commanded a view to the eastward. Julian carried a pocket telescope,
but nothing in the shape of a cruiser met their gaze.
“I am not at all disheartened,” said Lieutenant Thornton; “it may be
several days before we see the Onyx.”
“Neither am I,” said Julian; “so let us, as there is nothing in sight,
cross this headland, and get a sight of the creek where the Vengeance
lies.”
In half an hour they had gained a part of the coast that commanded
a view of the creek and its mouth. It was a very singular inlet;
extremely narrow at the mouth, and from the sea exceedingly difficult
to be discovered, and dangerous to enter, on account of rocks crossing
its mouth; for the tide being low, they could see that the rocks they
were then looking at would be covered at high water. A quarter of a
mile inside, the inlet opened into a fine pool of water, never entirely
dry, in which they could see not only that the Vengeance lay afloat,
but that there was a very handsome brig, a cutter, and half-a-dozen
large lugger boats, fishing crafts, also afloat; part of the creek ran
towards Coulancourt, which was perfectly dry at low water. The other
branch led away to the eastward, and seemed to be the run of a large
river.
Descending the hill, they made their way over the rocks till they
gained a spot where they could obtain a near view of the celebrated
privateer that caused Sir Sidney Smith two years of miserable
imprisonment. From where they were concealed, they had a clear view,
between the rocks, of the Vengeance, which appeared almost ready
for sea, not having suffered in her hull so much by the fire as was
supposed, for on running ashore, the ground swell rising in upon her
flaming deck, immediately extinguished the fire. She was a remarkably
handsome craft, very long, and with a graceful sheer and elongated
bow; with masts much tauter than her previous ones, and her yards
proportionably square, so that her lug-sails were greatly increased.
Several men were employed setting up the rigging; the mizen-mast was
yet unshipped. On the opposite side of the creek was a long wooden
shed containing stores, and several other sheds, and a very long stone
building showed that vessels were built and repaired there; for a large
collection of spars and timber lay along the shore and in the water.
“I would rather cut that vessel out,” said Lieutenant Thornton, “than
sink a French seventy-four. My gallant commander may linger years in a
French prison owing to her, whilst I and Saunders nearly fell victims
to her cut-throat commander.”
“Your only consolation is, William,” replied Julian, “that you are here
to protect my mother and sister in escaping out of this country.”
The inspection was ended for that day. The two following they resumed
their watch, and were equally unsuccessful; but, on the third morning,
Julian was certain that a ship lying-to in the distance was the Onyx.
They watched her for hours, but she remained almost stationary.
Unfortunately, in returning home, Julian, descending the rough side of
the cliff, sprained his ankle, which swelled so much after the walk,
that he found it impossible to leave the house the next morning. Our
hero, having seen the vessel lying-to off the land, was more anxious to
go, and Monsieur Plessis having returned from Havre, stated that there
was some popular commotion on foot in that town, and a large force of
gendarmes had been called in from Rouen to aid the military there.
Taking Bill Saunders with him, our hero set out for Lyon Head, rather
late in the morning. Mabel was uneasy at his going, and tried to
persuade him to stay till the next day, when Julian would probably be
able to accompany him.
“I am so anxious, dear Mabel,” he said, “to get you out of this
country. No mortal possessed of a treasure, ever coveted its security
as I do your safety. That troublesome Monsieur Gramont is absent, the
people of Havre are in commotion—now is the time to get away. If that
vessel Julian declares to be the corvette is really the Onyx, she
may be close in to-day, the weather is beautiful, and a nice breeze
blowing off shore.”
So, tenderly pressing the hand that lay so lovingly in his, he
departed, with Bill in great spirits, rejoicing at having a prospect
of looking again at his favourite element, and of getting once more on
board a British man-of-war, and regaining the full power of his tongue.