The Story of the Rock

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  UNLOOKED-FOR DELIVERANCE.

  Behold, then, our lighthouse-builders entering a French port; TeddyMaroon looking over the side of the vessel at the pier to which they aredrawing near, and grumbling sternly at his sad fate; John Potter besidehim, with his arms crossed, his eyes cast down, and his thoughts faraway with the opinionated Martha and the ingenious Tommy; Mr Franks andthe others standing near; all dismal and silent.

  "You not seem for like ver moche to see la belle France," said theFrench officer with the huge moustache, addressing Teddy.

  "It's little Teddy Maroon cares whether he sees Bell France or BetsyFrance," replied the Irishman, impudently. "No thanks _to you_ aitherfor givin' me the chance. Sure it's the likes o' you that bring warinto disgrace intirely; goin' about the say on yer own hook, plunderin'right an' left. It's pirate, and not privateers, ye should be called,an' it's myself that would string ye all at the yard-arm av I only hadme own way."

  "Hah!" exclaimed the Frenchman, with a scowl: "but by goot fortune younot have your own vay. Perhaps you change you mind ven you see deinside of French prisons, ha!"

  "Perhaps I won't; ha!" cried Teddy, mimicking his captor. "Go away widyez, an' attind to yer own business."

  The Frenchman turned angrily away. In a few seconds more they werealongside the pier, and a gangway was run on board.

  The first man who stepped on this gangway was a tall powerful gendarme,with a huge cocked hat, and a long cavalry sabre, the steel scabbard ofwhich clattered magnificently as he stalked along. Now it chanced thatthis dignified official slipped his foot on the gangway, and, to thehorror of all observers, fell into the water.

  Impulsiveness was a part of Teddy Maroon's enthusiastic nature. Hehappened to be gazing in admiration at the gendarme when he fell. Inanother moment he had plunged overboard after him, caught him by thecollar, and held him up.

  The gendarme could not swim. In the first agony of fear he threw abouthis huge limbs, and almost drowned his rescuer.

  "Be aisy, won't 'ee!" shouted Ted, holding him at arm's length, andstriving to keep out of his grasp. At the same time he dealt him ahearty cuff on the ear.

  The words and the action appeared to have a sedative effect on thegendarme, who at once became passive, and in a few minutes the rescuerand the rescued stood dripping on the schooner's deck.

  "Thank 'ee, my friend," said the gendarme in English, extending hishand.

  "Och, ye're an Irishman!" exclaimed Teddy eagerly, as he grasped theoffered hand. "But sure," he added, in an altered tone, dropping thehand and glancing at the man's uniform, "ye must be a poor-spiritedcraitur to forsake yer native land an' become a mounseer."

  "Ireland is not my native land, and I am not an Irishman," said thegendarme, with a smile. "My mother was Irish, but my father was French,and I was born in Paris. It is true that I spent many years in Irelandamong my mother's relations, so that I speak your language, but I ammore French than Irish."

  "Humph! more's the pity," said Teddy. "If there was but wan drop o' meblood Irish an' all the rest o' me French, I'd claim to be an Irishman.If I'd known what ye was I'd have let ye sink, I would. Go along: Idon't think much of yez."

  "Perhaps not," replied the gendarme, twirling his long moustache with agood-humoured smile; "nevertheless I think a good deal of you, my finefellow. Farewell, I shall see you again."

  "Ye needn't trouble yerself," replied Teddy, flinging off, testily.

  It was quite evident that the unfortunate Irishman found it hard to getreconciled to his fate. He could scarcely be civil to his mates inmisfortune, and felt a strong disposition to wrench the sword from hiscaptor's hand, cut off his moustached head, and then, in the language ofdesperate heroes of romance, "sell his life dearly." He refrained,however, and was soon after marched along with his mates to thestronghold of the port, at the door of which the French commander handedthem over to the jailor, wishing Teddy all health and happiness, with abroad grin, as he bid him farewell.

  Our unfortunates crossed a stone court with walls that appeared to riseinto the clouds; then they traversed a dark stone passage, at the end ofwhich stood an open door with a small stone cell beyond. Into this theywere desired to walk, and as several bayonet points glittered in thepassage behind them, they felt constrained to obey. Then locks wereturned, and bars were drawn, and bolts were shot. The heavy heels ofthe jailer and guard were heard retiring. More locks and bars and boltswere turned and drawn and shot at the farther end of the stone passage,after which all remained still as the grave.

  "Och hone!" groaned Teddy, looking round at his companions, as he sat ona stone seat, the picture of despair: "To be kilt is a trifle; to fightis a pleasure; to be hanged is only a little trying to the narves. Butto be shut up in a stone box in a furrin land--"

  Words failed him here, but another groan told eloquently of thebitterness of the spirit within.

  "We must just try to be as cheery as we can, mates," said John Potter."The Lord can deliver us out o' worse trouble than this if He sees fit."

  "Oh, it's all very well for you to talk like that," growled IsaacDorkin, "but I don't believe the Almighty is goin' to pull down stonewalls and iron gates to set us free, an' you know that we haven't afriend in all France to help us."

  "I _don't_ know that, Isaac. It certainly seems very unlikely that anyone should start up to befriend us here, but with God all things arepossible. At the worst, I know that if we are to remain here, it's Hiswill that we should."

  "Humph! I wish ye much comfort o' the thought: it doesn't give much tome," remarked Stobbs.

  Here, Mr Franks, who had hitherto sat in sad silence, brightened up,and said, "Well, well, lads, don't let us make things worse bydisputing. Surely each man is entitled to draw comfort from any sourcehe chooses. For my part, I agree with John Potter, in this at allevents,--that we should try to be as cheery as we can, and make the bestof it."

  "Hear, hear!" exclaimed the others. Acting on this advice, they soonbegan to feel a little less miserable. They had straw to sleep on, andwere allowed very poor fare; but there was a sufficiency of it. Thefirst night passed, and the second day; after which another fit ofdespair seized some of the party. Then John Potter managed to cheerthem up a bit, and as he never went about without a small Testament inhis pocket, he was able to lighten the time by reading portions of italoud. After that they took to relating their "lives and adventures" toeach other, and then the inventive spirits among them took to "spinninglong-winded yarns." Thus a couple of weeks passed away, during whichthese unfortunate prisoners of war went through every stage of feelingbetween hope and despair over and over again.

  During one of his despairing moods, Teddy Maroon declared that he hadnow given up all hope, and that the first chance he got, he would killhimself, for he was quite certain that nobody would ever be able to findout where they were, much less "get them out of that fig."

  But Teddy was wrong, as the sequel will show.

  Let us leap now, good reader, to the Tuileries,--into the apartments ofLouis XIV. From a prison to a palace is an unusual leap, no doubt,though the reverse is by no means uncommon! The old King is pacing hischamber in earnest thought, addressing an occasional remark to hisprivate Secretary. The subject that occupies him is the war, and thename of England is frequently on his lips. The Secretary begs leave tobring a particular letter under the notice of the King. The Secretaryspeaks in French, of course, but there is a peculiarly rich tone andemphasis in his voice which a son of the Green Isle would unhesitatinglypronounce to be "the brogue."

  "Read it," says the King hurriedly: "but first tell me, who writes?"

  "A gendarme, sire: a poor relation of mine."

  "Ha: an Irishman?"

  "No, sire: but his mother was Irish."

  "Well, read," says the King.

  The Secretary reads: "Dear Terrence, will you do me the favour to bringa matter before the King? The commander of a French privateer has donean act wort
hy of a buccaneer: he has attacked the men who werere-building the famous Eddystone lighthouse, and carried them prisonersof war into this port. I would not trouble you or the King about this,did I not know his Majesty too well to believe him capable ofcountenancing such a deed."

  "What!" exclaims the King, turning abruptly, with a flush of anger onhis countenance, "the Eddystone lighthouse, which so stands as to be ofequal service to all nations having occasion to navigate the channel?"

  "The same, sire; and the officer who has done this expects to berewarded."

  "Ha: he shall not be disappointed; he shall have his reward," exclaimsthe King. "Let him be placed in the prison where the English men nowlie, to remain there during our pleasure; and set the builders of theEddystone free. Let them have gifts, and all honourable treatment, torepay them for their temporary distress, and send them home, withoutdelay, in the same vessel which brought them hither. We are indeed atwar with England, but not with mankind!"

  The commands of kings are, as a rule, promptly obeyed. Even althoughthere were neither railways nor telegraphs in those days, many hours hadnot elapsed before the tall gendarme stood in the prison-cell where JohnPotter and his friends were confined. There was a peculiar twinkle inhis eye, as he ordered a band of soldiers to act as a guard of honour inconducting the Englishmen to the best hotel in the town, where asumptuous collation awaited them. Arrived there, the circumstances oftheir case were explained to them by the chief magistrate, who was inwaiting to receive them and present them with certain gifts, by order ofLouis XIV.

  The fortunate men looked on at all that was done, ate their feast, andreceived their gifts in speechless amazement, until at length thegendarme (who acted as interpreter, and seemed to experience intenseenjoyment at the whole affair) asked if they were ready to embark forEngland? To which Teddy Maroon replied, by turning to John Potter andsaying, "I say, John, just give me a dig in the ribs, will 'ee: a goodsharp one. It's of no use at all goin' on draimin' like this. It'llonly make it the worse the longer I am o' wakin' up."

  John Potter smiled and shook his head; but when he and his friends wereconducted by their guard of honour on board of the schooner which hadbrought them there, and when they saw the moustached commander broughtout of his cabin and led ashore in irons, and heard the click of thecapstan as the vessel was warped out of harbour, and beheld the tallgendarme take off his cocked hat and wish them "_bon voyage_" as theypassed the head of the pier, they at length became convinced that "itwas all true;" and Teddy declared with enthusiastic emphasis, that "themounseers were not such bad fellows after all!"

  "Oh, John, John!" exclaimed Mrs Potter, about thirty hours after that,as she stood gazing in wild delight at a magnificent cashmere shawlwhich hung on her husband's arm, while Tommy was lost in admiration atthe sight of a splendid inlaid ivory work-box, "where ever got 'ee sucha helegant shawl?"

  "From King Louis, of France, lass," said John, with a peculiar smile.

  "Never!" said Mrs Potter, emphatically; and then she gave it forth asone of her settled convictions, that, "Kings wasn't such fools as to gomakin' presents like that to poor working men."

  However, John Potter, who had only just then presented himself beforethe eyes of his astonished spouse, stoutly asserted that it was true;and said that if she would set about getting something to eat, for hewas uncommonly hungry, and if Tommy would leave off opening his mouthand eyes to such an unnecessary extent, he would tell them all about it.So Mrs Potter was convinced, and, for once, had her "settledconvictions" unsettled; and the men returned to their work on theEddystone; and a man-of-war was sent to cruise in the neighbourhood toguard them from misfortune in the future; and, finally, the Rudyerdlighthouse was completed.

  Its total height, from the lowest side to the top of the ball on thelantern, was ninety-two feet, and its greatest diameter twenty-threefeet four inches. It took about three years to build, having beencommenced in 1706, the first light was put up in 1708, and the whole wascompleted in 1709.

  Teddy Maroon was one of the first keepers, but he soon left to takecharge of a lighthouse on the Irish coast. Thereupon John Potter madeapplication for the post. He was successful over many competitors, andat last obtained the darling wish of his heart: he became principalkeeper; his surly comrade, Isaac Dorkin, strange to say, obtaining thepost of second keeper. Mrs Potter didn't like the change at first, asa matter of course.

  "But you'll come to like it, Martha," John would say when they referredto the subject, "`Absence,' you know, `makes the heart grow fonder.'We'll think all the more of each other when we meet during my spellsashore, at the end of every two months."

  Tommy also objected very much at first, but he could not alter hisfather's intentions; so John Potter went off to the Eddystone rock, andfor a long time took charge of the light that cast its friendly beamsover the sea every night thereafter, through storm and calm, for upwardsof six-and-forty years.

  That John's life in the lighthouse was not all that he had hoped forwill become apparent in the next chapter.