Newton Forster

by Frederick Marryat

  Chapter XII

  "Misery acquaints a man with strange bedfellows." SHAKESPEARE.

  As the reader may have before now occasionally heard comments upon theuncertainty of the moon and of the sea, and also, perhaps of human life,I shall not venture any further remarks upon the subject; for were theyeven new, I should never have the credit of them. This is certain, thatinstead of finding themselves, as they anticipated to be in the nexttwenty-four hours, safely moored in the port of Plymouth, Newton and hiscomrades found themselves, before that time had elapsed, safely lockedup in the prison of Morlaix. But we must not proceed so fast.

  Although the _Estelle_ had squared her mainyard as a signal ofsubmission, the privateer's men, as they ranged their vessel alongside,thought it advisable to pour in a volley of musketry; this might haveproved serious, had it not been that Newton and his crew were all downbelow, hoping to secure a few changes of linen, which, in a prison,might prove very useful. As it was, their volley only killed theremaining French prisoner, who remained on deck, over-joyed at therecapture, and anticipating an immediate return to his own country; bywhich it would appear that the "_L'homme propose, mais Dieu dispose_" ofFrance, is quite as sure a proverb as the more homely "Many a slipbetween cup and lip" of our own country.

  The boat of the privateer was sent on board: a dozen men, with theircutlasses flourishing over their heads, leapt on the deck of the_Estelle_, and found nobody to exercise their valour upon, except thebody of their departed comrade; upon which they shouted for the "Sacre'sGod dams" to "monter." Newton and the rest obeyed the summons, with theirbundles in their hands; the latter they were soon relieved of by theirconquerors, who, to prove that it was not out of "_politesse_" thatthey carried their effects, at the same time saluted them with variousblows with their cutlasses upon their backs and shoulders. Newton, who feltthat resistance would only be an excuse for further aggression, bore withphilosophy what he could not prevent, and hastened into the boat. Theconvicts also took their share with patience--they had been accustomed to"many stripes." Roberts and Williams, in spite of the remonstrances ofNewton, with all the reckless spirit or English, sailors, would not submitso quietly. The first object which attracted Roberts' attention, as he cameup the ladder, was the body of the remaining French prisoner.

  "What! Johnny, so you're gone! Didn't I tell you that your turn wouldcome next? I say, my hearties, you keep all your bullets for yourfriends," continued Roberts, addressing the privateer's men.

  A few "sacres" and "f----s" was the reply, as one of them attempted totwitch his bundle out of his hand.--"Hold fast there, old chap, don'ttake what you never paid for."

  A scuffle now ensued; which ended in Roberts, who found that he couldnot retain possession, shying his bundle at the foremost man, with suchforce as to lay him on the deck.--"Well, if you will have it, take it,"cried Roberts.

  "The beggars have chopped my fingers," growled Williams. "I say,Mounseer, don't make quite so free with that iron of yours, or I'llsmash your top-lights."

  "I wish I had three on 'em on Point Beach, one up and one down. I'dsarve you out, you d--d frog-eating sea-cooks!" said Roberts, squaringat the privateer's men with clenched fists.

  This obstreperous conduct produced a shower of blows with the backs ofthe cutlasses. Williams, in a rage, wrenched a cutlass from one of theFrenchmen, and laid about him; while Roberts, with his fists, rushedwithin their guards, and laid two of them at his feet. At last they wereoverpowered and thrown into the boat, bleeding profusely from variouscuts which they had received in the unequal scuffle. The privateer'speople then shoved off and rowed on board of the schooner.

  As soon as Newton and the other Englishmen were up the side, they werepushed aft; their persons were then searched, and every part of theirapparel, which appeared to be of good materials, or little worn, wastaken from them. Collins, the convict, was a good prize; he had put onshirt over shirt, stocking over stocking, and trousers over trousers,that the Frenchmen began to wonder if ever they should arrive at the"inner man." At last, he was uncased, an old pair of trousers thrown tohim, and he was left without any other garment, shivering in the cold.Newton, who still retained his waistcoat and shirt, took off the former,and gave it to the convict, who whispered as he thanked him, "I don'tcare a fig, they have left me my old hat." As soon as the recapture wasmanned, the privateer bore up for the French coast, and before morninganchored in the rocky harbour of Morlaix. At daylight, the prisoners,who had received no refreshment, were handed into a boat, and on theirlanding, conducted by a party of _gens d'armes_ to the prison. Duringtheir progress to their place of confinement Collins excited theamusement of the bystanders, and the surprise of his fellow-prisoners,by walking with his hands and arms raised in a certain position. Afterthey had been locked up, he went to the barred window, and continued thesame gestures to the people who were crowded about the prison, most ofwhom continued their mockery. Newton, who came forward to the window torequest a little water for Roberts and Williams, who wished to quenchtheir thirst and wash their wounds, which had not been dressed, inquiredof Collins his reasons for so doing. "It is for your benefit as well asmine," replied Collins; "at least I hope so. There are freemasons in allcountries."

  A few minutes afterwards, one of the people outside came forward, andpointed out to the sentry that the prisoners were making signs forwater. The _gendarme_, who had paid no attention to Newton, listened tothe appeal of his countryman, who, upon the grounds of common humanity,persuaded him to allow them such a necessary boon. The water wasbrought, and, as the man walked away, a sign, unperceived by all butCollins, gave him to understand that his appeal had been understood.

  "All's right," said Collins to Newton, as he quitted the grating. "Wehave friends without, and we have _friends_ within." In about an hoursome bread was brought in, and among those who brought it Collinsperceived the person who had answered his signal; but no furtherrecognition took place. At noon the door of the prison was againunbarred, and a surgeon came to dress the wounded men. He wasaccompanied by two or three others, deputed by the governor of the townto obtain intelligence, and the new acquaintance of Collins appeared asinterpreter. While the surgeon dressed the wounds of Roberts andWilliams, which, although numerous, were none of any importance, manyquestions were asked, and taken down when interpreted. Each prisoner wasseparately interrogated; Collins was one of the first examined. Thequestions put and answers given were carefully intermixed with moreimportant matter. The person who acted as interpreter spoke English toowell for a Frenchman: apparently he was a Dane or Russian, who wasdomiciliated there. He commenced with--

  "No one understands English but me--but they are suspicious: becareful.--What is your name?"

  "John Collins."

  "Comment?" said the French amanuensis, "John Co--lin. _C'est bien;continuez._"

  "What is your rank--_and in your Lodge_?"

  "Common seaman--_master_," answered Collins, adroitly.

  "Comment?" said the party with his pen.

  "Matelot," replied the interpreter.

  "Demandez-lui le nom du batiment."

  "What is the name of your ship?--_how can we assist you?_"

  "_Terpsichore--a boat, with provisions._"

  "Comment?"

  "Fregate croiseur _Terpsichore_."

  "Does she sail well?--_at what time?_"

  "_To night, with a guide._"

  "Que dit-il?"

  "Elle marche bien avec le vent large."

  "Demandez-lui la force."

  "What number of guns?--_how can you get out?_"

  "Thirty-six guns.--_I have the means._"

  "Trente-six canons."

  "Trente-six canons," repeated the Frenchman, writing; "c'estbien--alors, l'equipage."

  "How many men?--_I will be here at dark._"

  "Two hundred and seventy men; but many away in prizes."

  "Deux cents soixante-dix hommes-d'equipage; mais il y a beaucoup dansles batimens pris."

  Newton and the other
s were also interrogated, the names taken down, andthe parties then quitted the prison.

  "Now, if we make a push for it, I think we may get off," said Collins toNewton and the rest, after the door had closed. "I never saw the prisonin England which could hold me when I felt inclined to walk out of it;and as for their bars, I reckon them at about an hour's work. I nevertravel without my little friends;"--and Collins, taking off his old hat,removed the lining, and produced a variety of small saws made fromwatch-springs, files, and other instruments. "Then," continued he, "withthese, and this piece of tallow stuck outside my hat, I will be throughthose bars in no time. French iron ar'n't worth a d--n, and the sentrysha'n't hear me if he lolls against them; although it may be just aswell if Thompson tips us a stave, as then we may work the faster."

  "I say, Bill," observed Hillson, "who is your friend?"

  "I don't know--he may be the governor; but this I do know, for thehonour of freemasonry, we may trust him and all like him; so just mindyour own business, Tom."

  "He said he would be here at dark," observed Newton.

  "Yes,--I must prepare--go to the grating, some of you, that they may notlook in upon me."

  This unexpected prospect of deliverance created an anxious joy in thebreasts of the prisoners; the day appeared interminable. At last, theshades of night set in, and a clouded sky with mizzling rain raisedtheir hopes. The square in front of the prison was deserted, and thesentinel crouched close against the door, which partially protected himfrom the weather. In a few minutes a person was heard in conversationwith the sentinel. "He must be coming now," observed Collins in a lowtone; "that must be one of his assistants who is taking off theattention of the _gens d'arme_."

  "Make no noise," said a voice in a whisper, at the outside of the bars.

  "I am here," replied Collins, softly.

  "How can you get out of the prison?"

  "Get the sentry out of the way when we leave off singing; the bars willthen be removed."

  "Everything is prepared outside. When you get out, keep close under thewall to the right. I shall be at the corner, if I am not here."

  The freemason then retired from the grating.

  "Now, Thompson, not too loud, there's no occasion for it; two of us canwork."

  Thompson commenced his song; Newton took a small saw from Collins, whodirected him how to use it. The iron bars of the prison yielded like woodto the fine-tempered instruments which Collins employed. In an hour and ahalf three of the bars were removed without noise, and the aperture waswide enough for their escape. The singing of Thompson, whose voice wastolerably good, and ear very correct, had not only the effect of preventingtheir working being heard, but amused the sentinel, who remained with hisback to the wall listening to the melody.

  Their work was so far accomplished. Thompson ceased, and all was silenceand anxiety; in a few minutes the sentinel was again heard inconversation, and the voices receded, as if he had removed to a greaterdistance.

  "Now, brother," said the low voice under the aperture.

  In a minute the whole of the prisoners were clear of the walls, andfollowed their guide in silence, until they reached the landing-place.

  "There is the boat, and provisions sufficient," said the freemason, in alow tone; "you will have to pass the sentries on the rocks: but we cando no more for you. Farewell, brother; and may you and your companionsbe fortunate!" So saying, their friendly assistant disappeared.

  The night was so dark, that although close to the boat, it was withdifficulty that its outlines could be discerned. Newton, recommendingthe strictest silence and care in entering, stepped into it, and wasfollowed by the rest. Roberts, whose eyesight was a little affected fromthe wounds in his head, stumbled over one of the oars.

  "_Qui vive?_" cried out one of the sentries on the rock.

  No answer was made; they all remained motionless in their seats. Thesentry walked to the edge of the rock and looked down; but notdistinguishing anything, and hearing no further noise, returned to hispost.

  For some little while Newton would not allow them to move: the oars werethen carefully lifted over the gunnel, and their clothes laid in therowlocks, to muffle the sound; the boat was pushed from thelanding-place into the middle of the narrow inlet. The tide was ebbing,and with their oars raised out of the water, ready to give way ifperceived, they allowed the boat to drift out of one of the narrowchannels which formed the entrance of the harbour.

  The rain now beat down fast: and anxious to be well clear of the coastbefore daylight, Newton thought they might venture to pull. The oarswere taken by him and Collins; but before they had laid them three timesin the water, one of the sentries, hearing the noise, discharged hismusket in the direction.

  "Give way, now, as hard as we can," cried Newton; "it's our onlychance."

  Another and another musket was fired. They heard the guard turned out;lights passing on the batteries close to them, and row-boats manning.They double-banked their oars, and, with the assistance of the ebb-tideand obscurity, they were soon out of gun-shot. They then laid in theiroars, shipped their mast, and sailed away from the coast.

  It was nine o'clock in the evening when they started, and at daylightthe French coast was not to be seen. Overjoyed at their escape, theycommenced an attack upon the provisions and a small keg of wine; andperhaps a more joyful breakfast never was made. The sun rose in vapour,the sky threatened, but they were free and happy. The wind freshened, andthe boat flew before the gale; the running seas topping over her stern andforcing them continually to bale her out; but all was joy, and freedomturned their "danger to delight." They passed several vessels at adistance, who did not observe them; and before sunset the English coast wasin sight. At ten o'clock the double lights on the Lizard were on theirstarboard bow. They hauled up upon the larboard tack with the ebb-tide, andhaving passed the Lizard, kept away for Mount's Bay, to avoid the chance offalling in with any of the king's vessels, and being again impressed. Atdaylight they ran in under St Michael's Mount, and once more stepped uponEnglish ground. Here, as by previous agreement, they divided theprovisions, and took farewell of each other.

  "Good-bye, gentlemen," said Collins; "allow me to observe that, foronce, you may think yourselves fortunate in having been placed in myvery respectable company!"