The Wanton Princess

by Dennis Wheatley

  During their four months on the island they had fared none too badly on roast pig, shell fish and fruit but, as the boat approached, they were naturally overjoyed at the thought that they might now hope to be back in England within two months. In that they had been disappointed, as the ship had proved to be a Yankee trader on her homeward run, and it took the best part of that time before she landed them in Boston. There they had had to wait a fortnight before they could get a passage across the Atlantic; so Jenny had not reached home until mid-November.

  She had brought the stalwart and devoted Mr. Small to Stillwaters with her, and blushingly revealed to Colonel Thursby that she had a mind to marry him; yet could not abide the thought that, his profession being the sea, she would be no more than a grass widow during the best years of her life, and always fearing that tempest or some other hazard would rob her of him for good.

  On learning that the bos’n was willing to give up the sea Colonel Thursby had gladly solved their problem by promising him employment on the estate and, as a wedding present to Jenny, the free life-tenancy of a comfortable cottage as their home.

  Reading the letter through again Roger absorbed every detail of it. He was delighted that dear Jenny had found a good man as a husband and determined at the first opportunity to reward her faithful service by making over to her a handsome sum as a wedding portion; but he swiftly dismissed her from his thoughts to speculate excitedly upon what had become of Georgina.

  Jenny’s statement confirmed in every particular the vision he had had nearly ten months before, and when it had faded Georgina, although still some distance from the shore, had been swimming strongly towards the island. Now there was real hope that she had reached it. If so it was probable that Rockhurst, perhaps the Skiffingtons and a few members of the crew had also done so. But what then?

  If the island was similar to that upon which Mr. Small’s party had landed, Georgina and her companions should have had no difficulty in surviving. Even if it had no pigs or fruit trees on it, provided there was a freshwater spring, they could have made do on shell fish. But, awful thought, if there had been no spring they must all have died there.

  Had they still been alive, surely from an island only a day’s sail from the exit to the Windward Passage they must have been picked up within six months; and the odds against their having been rescued by another American vessel that had carried them to a port as far distant as Boston were considerable. Even had they remained marooned for six months and then been taken off by a local schooner they should have got back to England before Jenny.

  Weighing the pros and cons Roger was once more plunged into gloom. Then a few moments later a new idea struck him. In those lawless seas it was quite possible that they had not been picked up by an honest trader, or a warship, but by a Sea Rover. In fact it was highly likely that the buccaneer who had attacked ‘Enterprise’ had sent a party ashore and captured them within an hour of their landing.

  Against that it was customary for pirates to take captives who were well off to a hideout on some desert islet where they careened their ships, and hold them there until they were ransomed. Yet if that was what had happened some crooked agent who acted for the pirates would have sent a demand for ransom that should have reached London months ago.

  There remained still another possibility. Rockhurst and Skiffington, if they had reached the shore, might later have been killed in a fight with the pirates. At the sight of Georgina’s beauty the pirate Captain might then have decided that rather than demand a ransom for her he would force her to become his mistress. It was therefore not to be ruled out that she was still alive but suffering a hideous captivity aboard the ship as a ‘pirate’s moll’. Still worse, having taken his pleasure with her, he might have decided that for such a lovely woman he could get nearly as big a sum by selling her into a brothel as by asking a ransom, and save both time in getting his money and the agent’s heavy commission.

  The more Roger thought of this last appalling possibility the more harrowed his mind became. Within the hour, he had decided that he must go out to the West Indies and, somehow, discover what had really happened to the love of his life.

  That night he considered by what means he could most swiftly reach the Caribbean. From England he would have no difficulty, through Mr. Pitt’s good offices, in getting a passage in the first frigate sailing for those waters. But now that it was next to impossible for smugglers to cross the eastern end of the Channel, he would have to go via Bordeaux and be landed somewhere in Devonshire or Cornwall. That would mean a long ride through France, probably several days before he could find a smuggler about to run a cargo, another long journey by coach to London to see Mr. Pitt, still another down to Portsmouth or Bristol and, even then, he might have to wait for some time before the frigate sailed; so it could be a month or more before he was actually on his way to the Indies.

  On the other hand wind and weather, particularly during the winter months, together with the necessity for ships to be detached in rotation to take in water, made the British squadrons’ blockade of the French ports far from constant In consequence French ships in considerable numbers had fairly frequent opportunities of slipping out, and, once in the vast open ocean, stood a very good chance of reaching the Indies without meeting opposition. If, therefore, he could get on a French ship the odds were that he would reach his destination the sooner by several weeks.

  Next morning he remained in bed and sent a note to Duroc excusing himself from duty on the grounds that his weak lung was again giving him trouble. Two days later he got up, went to the Tuileries and asked for a private interview with his master. An hour or so later Napoleon received him. As he made his bow he gave vent to a fit of coughing, then said:

  ‘Your Majesty, now that winter is upon us I must, with great regret, ask for leave to quit Paris, otherwise I fear I may be stricken with a pleurisy.’

  Napoleon nodded, ‘Your old trouble, eh? ’Tis wretched for you that you should be so afflicted every winter. However, I’ll have no special use for you until early summer. Now that the Spanish Fleet is as good as in my pocket, together with our own and those of Northern Italy and Holland, we’ll drive the accursed English from the seas. But not yet. The Spanish Fleet is in ill repair and several months must elapse before it can be made battleworthy. ’Twould be folly to strike before we can muster our maximum strength. Meantime by all means go to that place of yours near St. Maxime and enjoy the sunshine.’

  ‘I thank you, Sire,’ Roger replied. ‘But it irks me to have to spend long spells there idling my time away; and it has occurred to me that since my health prevents me from serving you in Paris I might do so elsewhere.’

  ‘What have you in mind?’

  ‘That you might send me in some capacity to the Indies. Not permanently, but perhaps to make a confidential report to you on the situation there. My mission could be covered by your appointing me as an Army liaison officer to your Admiral commanding on that station; and such a cruise would certainly benefit my health.’

  ‘You have an idea there. My Army leaves nothing to be desired; but I am far from satisfied with our Navy. You are a shrewd observer, Breuc, and might well provide me with information which would enable me to weld it into better shape before I launch it in full force against the English. I’ll think on it. Come to me tomorrow night at St. Cloud at ten o’clock.’

  The following evening Roger rode out to the Palace and was duly shown into the Orangery. Napoleon was seated at his desk and for some minutes continued writing in his fast, sprawling hand. Then he stood up, took a big map from a drawer, threw it on the floor, lay down, spread out the map and signed to Roger to join him.

  ‘This,’ he said, ‘is our situation. Our two main fleets are at Toulon and Brest. Villeneuve commands the first and Gantheaume the second. We have a third, consisting only of five ships of the line and five frigates, under Missiessy at Rochefort. My object during the Spring is to decoy the main English fleet under Nelson to the West Indies. I a
m sending Missiessy orders that in January, as soon as an opportunity offers to evade the blockade, he is to sail to the Caribbean and make as much trouble there as possible. To give him time to do so, Villeneuve will leave Toulon in March and make a feint towards Egypt. That should draw Nelson after him. Then, evading Nelson, he will turn back, pick up the Spanish Fleet at Cartagena and follow Missiessy across the Atlantic with it. By then the English should have learned that Missiessy has attacked, and I hope taken one or more of their islands. The Franco-Spanish fleet will be sighted as it passes Gibraltar. Nelson will learn of that a few days later and turn back in pursuit. But Villeneuve should have a good lead. He will join Missiessy at Martinique. The combined fleets will then at once recross the Atlantic while Nelson is hunting for them in the Caribbean. On Villeneuve’s return he will pick up the second Spanish fleet from Cadiz. Gantheaume will break out of Brest and the Dutch fleet leave its ports. Having massed our entire seapower we shall overwhelm the English squadrons in the Channel and launch the invasion.’

  ‘A magnificent conception,’ Roger declared heartily. ‘Magnificent. It cannot fail.’

  ‘It will not. To achieve this combination has taken me four years. But now at last these devilish islanders who have thwarted my plans in every direction are about to face the day of reckoning.’

  The Emperor paused for a moment, then he went on, ‘With regard to Missiessy; it is my intention that he should take with him twelve thousand troops. His first objective will be the capture of Dominica. He may then use his judgment whether next to attack St. Kitts, Nevis or Monserrat. Such troops as he may still have after leaving garrisons in such islands as he succeeds in taking he will use to reinforce San Domingo. By then Villeneuve should have joined him and they will return together. You are to sail with Missiessy, but not as a liaison officer. Seeing that you are one of my personal staff, the Admirals would be certain to suspect that I had sent you to spy on them. You will go as Governor-designate of the island of Dominica.’

  At this announcement Roger had all he could do to keep a straight face. In ’94 Mr. Pitt had sent him out as Governor of the French island of Martinique which had recently been captured by the British; now Napoleon was sending him out to be Governor of the British island of Dominica which was to be captured by the French. It was a delightful piece of irony, but no time to laugh. Swiftly recovering himself, he expressed his gratitude at being given this lucrative appointment, upon which Napoleon said:

  ‘You will not be there long, as you must return with the combined fleet to be with me for the invasion. But you have a good head on your shoulders, and six or eight weeks in the island should be sufficient for you to establish French rule firmly before handing over to a successor.’ Getting to his feet Napoleon took a packet from his desk, handed it to Roger and added, ‘Here is your Commission as Governor of Dominica, and a letter to Admiral le Comte de Missiessy informing him of your appointment. You may leave for Rochefort as soon as you wish. I hope that there you will find better weather and quickly recover your health.’

  Having effusively thanked the Emperor again Roger left the Palace in high elation. Not only had he secured his passage to the West Indies but by a great stroke of luck he had learned the movements of the French fleets for several months to come. Nevertheless, as he rode back to Paris he had to face a most disconcerting problem. Clearly it was his duty to pass on to Mr. Pitt as soon as he possibly could the information he had come by, so that Nelson should not be lured to the West Indies; but Missiessy was to sail in January as soon as he had an opportunity to break out of Rochefort. If he crossed to England he might not be able to get back before Missiessy sailed.

  By the time he reached La Belle Etoile he had taken his decision. Deeply as he loved Georgina and harrowed as he had been by thinking of the awful fate that might have overtaken her if she had fallen into the hands of pirates, he must put his country first and risk having to postpone going in search of her.

  As it was now December 18th and the odds were that Missiessy would not find a chance to escape the blockade during the first few days of January, Roger reckoned that he would have at least a fortnight and, with luck, three weeks in which to get from Paris to London then back to Rochefort. But the only route open to him was via Bordeaux and Devon. For there to be any hope of his getting back early in the New Year, not a moment must be lost.

  At the hostelry he ordered a fresh horse to be saddled for him, crammed a suit of civilian clothes and a few other things into a valise, then from under a loose board in his bedroom took a money belt stuffed with gold pieces and two letters of credit that he always kept there against an emergency. Soon after midnight he was in the saddle and on his way out of Paris.

  On the 22nd he reached Bordeaux but there met with a nasty setback. The smuggler who had put him over on his last two trips had not returned from a crossing he had made early the previous month, so was presumed to be either dead or captured by the English.

  By frequenting seamen’s taverns during the next two days he at length got in touch with another smuggler named Jubert. But in spite of an offer of lavish payment Jubert proved sullen and difficult. His craft was already loaded with a cargo of wine but he refused to put to sea on account of the weather, although Roger had several times made the crossing when it was worse.

  At last, on the 28th, Jubert’s avarice overcame his fears and for the highest sum Roger had ever paid he agreed to sail. The passage, although rough enough to make Roger ill, was not particularly bad but, only two hours after they had left Bordeaux, they ran into trouble. Out of the night there emerged a British sloop of war. They were hailed and ordered to heave to. Jubert ignored the order and put about in an attempt to get away, but the sloop sent a cannon ball crashing through his rudder. This lucky shot rendered the ship out of control, whereupon the sloop came alongside and grappled her.

  The sound of the shot brought Roger on deck. At a glance he took in the situation and had swiftly to decide what to do. Suddenly it occurred to him that this apparent disaster might prove a blessing in disguise and enable him to send his information to London without landing in England.

  Stepping up to Jubert—now haggard at the thought of not only losing his cargo but spending years in an English prison—Roger said quietly, ‘Leave this to me. I have a big sum of money with me and may be able to buy them off.’

  A young officer accompanied by six British tars with drawn cutlasses scrambled aboard. Jubert stood back, and Roger, addressing the officer in broken English, told him that he was responsible for the ship. He then asked to be taken to the Captain of the sloop. Ten minutes later he was in her after-cabin with her commander, a middle-aged Lieutenant.

  As soon as they were alone Roger ceased all pretence of being a Frenchman and said, ‘Lieutenant, I am a British agent in the personal service of the Prime Minister. Your having intercepted us is most fortunate. I have information regarding the future movements of the French fleet which should be conveyed to him with the utmost urgency. I pray you get it to him with all possible speed, and release this smuggler so that he can land me again in France and I can continue the important work I am doing there.’

  In spite of his perfect English, the Lieutenant at first refused to believe him. But after half an hour, during which Roger answered innumerable questions for which he could hardly have provided the answers had he not been brought up in Hampshire and been acquainted with a number of prominent Englishmen, the Lieutenant was convinced of his bona fides. Pen and paper were provided and he sat down in the heaving sloop to write his despatch for Mr. Pitt. When he had done he gave it to the Lieutenant to read through. Realising its vital nature, the officer said he would set a course for Plymouth and, although reluctant to do so, agreed to release the smuggler, provided he made no further attempt to land his illicit cargo.

  Back aboard the smuggler Roger pulled a long face as he told Jubert that it had cost him twelve thousand five hundred francs to bribe the Englishman to let them go, but that for that sum h
e had also agreed to undertake certain business for him in England which now made it unnecessary for him to go there himself. He added that he had given his word that no further attempt should be made on this trip to land the cargo and that, even if he was prepared to break it, with the sloop still in the vicinity it would be suicidal to do so; but that there was nothing to prevent Jubert from attempting to put his cargo across in a few days’ time.

  Jubert, thanking his stars that he had had a passenger aboard rich enough to save himself and his ship from capture, at once agreed to put back to port, and in the early hours of the morning Roger was landed at the old harbour in Bordeaux.

  It was now December 29th and Rochefort lay only a hundred miles to the north; so he had time in hand. On the afternoon of the 31st he arrived there and reported to Admiral Comte de Missiessy. The Admiral and his senior officers were about to celebrate the New Year of 1805. Roger was invited to join them and spent a hectic evening, now overjoyed to think that his vital information was on its way to Mr. Pitt by a safe hand, and that he was assured of a passage which, with any reasonable luck, would get him to the West Indies within six to eight weeks.

  He would have been far from being so pleased with himself had he known that within twelve hours of his leaving the sloop of war she had encountered a French frigate. After a sharp engagement the sloop had got away but her after-structure had been set on fire, Roger’s despatch had gone up in flames, and the sloop’s Commander, who was the only man aboard who knew its contents, had been killed during the action. So, after all, Nelson’s fleet was destined to be lured on a long, futile chase to the West Indies.

  25

  Disastrous Voyage

  It was not until January 11th that, bad weather during the preceding days having driven off the British ships blockading Rochefort, Missiessy’s squadron was able to break out. Its ten ships, carrying nearly twelve thousand troops in addition to their crews, were crammed to suffocation. Between decks hammocks were slung in serried rows alternately head to foot as close as sardines in a tin, and each was shared by three men for stretches of eight hours in every twenty four. For the rest of the time those who were not sleeping either lay about playing cards beneath the hammocks or, by companies, were in turn taken up on deck to be exercised. The officers, too, had to share cabins, and Roger, being as Governor designate of Dominica a person of importance, considered himself lucky in having a small stateroom with a bunk to himself and only one other in it that was occupied by a Brigadier.