The Second G.A. Henty

by G. A. Henty

  “So they told Marie and Ernest, who, if ill came to them, would be the heads of the family, that I had their consent to marry you. It makes me happy to know this, Harry.”

  “I am very glad, too, dear,” Harry said earnestly.

  “It is very satisfactory for you, and it is very pleasant to me to know that they were ready to trust you to me. Ah!” he said suddenly, “that was what was in the letter. I wondered a little at the time, for somehow after that, Jeanne, you were a little different with me. I thought at first I might somehow have offended you. But I did not think that long,” he went on, as Jeanne uttered an indignant exclamation, “because if anything offended you, you always spoke out frankly. Still I wondered over it for some time, and certainly I was never near guessing the truth.”

  “I could not help being a little different,” Jeanne said shyly. “I had never thought of it before, and though I am sure it made me happy, I could not feel quite the same with you, especially as I knew that you never thought of me like that.”

  “But you thought of me so afterwards, Jeanne?”

  “Sometimes just for a moment, but I tried not to think of it, Harry. We were so strangely placed, and it made it easier for you to be a brother, and I felt sure you would not speak till we were safely in England, and I was in Ernest’s care. But,” she said with a little laugh, “you were nearly speaking that evening in the cottage when you felt so despairing.”

  “Very nearly, Jeanne; I did so want comfort.”

  And so they talked happily together for an hour.

  “I wonder Pierre does not come down to his boat,” Harry said at last. “There were several more things wanting doing to it. Why, there he is calling. Surely it can never be dinner-time; but that’s what he says. It doesn’t seem an hour since breakfast.”

  Jeanne hurried on into the hut.

  “Why, Pierre,” Harry said to the fisherman, who was waiting outside for him, “I thought you were going on with your boat.”

  “So I was, monsieur, but Henriette told me I should be in the way.”

  “In the way, Pierre!” Harry repeated in surprise.

  “Ah, monsieur,” Pierre said with a twinkle in his eye, “you have been deceiving us. My wife saw it in a moment when the young lady came to breakfast.

  “’Brother!’ she said to me when you went out; ‘don’t tell me! Monsieur is the young lady’s lover. Brother and sister don’t look at each other like that. Why, one could see it with half an eye.’

  “Your wife is right, Pierre; mademoiselle is my fiance. I am really an Englishman. She and her sister had their old nurse with them, till the latter died some three weeks since; but I have always been called their brother, because it made it easier for her.”

  “Quite right, monsieur; but my wife and I are glad to see that it is otherwise, and that, after all you have risked for that pretty creature, you are going to be happy together. My wife was not surprised. Women are sharper than men in these matters, and she said to me, when she heard what you were going to do to save them, ‘I would wager, Pierre, that one of these mesdemoiselles is not monsieur’s sister. Men will do a great deal for their sister, but I never heard of a man throwing away his life as he is going to do on the mere chance of saving one.’”

  “I should have done just the same had it been one of my sisters,” Harry said a little indignantly.

  “Perhaps you would, monsieur, I do not say no,” the fisherman said, shaking his head; “but brothers do not often do so.”

  A stop was put to the conversation by Henriette putting her head outside the door and demanding angrily what they were stopping talking there for when the fish was getting cold.

  In the evening Adolphe and his wife came in.

  “Ah, mademoiselle,” the woman said as she embraced Jeanne with tears in her eyes, “how thankful I am to see you again! I never thought I should do so. My heart almost stopped beating yesterday when I heard the guns. I and my little one were on our knees praying to the good God for the dear lady who had saved her life. Adolphe had spoken hopefully, but it hardly seemed to me that it could be, and when he brought back the news that he had left you all safely here, I could hardly believe it was true.”

  “And I must thank you also, mademoiselle,” Adolphe said, “for saving the life of my little one. I never expected to see her alive again, and when the lugger made fast to the wharf I was afraid to go home, and I hung about till Marthe had heard we were in and came down to me with Julie in her arms, looking almost herself again. Ah, mademoiselle, you cannot tell how glad I was when she told me that there was a way of paying some part of my debt to you.”

  “You have been able to pay more than your debt,” Jeanne said gently; “if I saved one life you have helped to save three.”

  “No, we shall be only quits, mademoiselle, for what would Marthe’s life and mine be worth if the child had died?

  “There are fresh notices stuck up,” he went on, “warning all masters of ships, fishermen, and others, against taking passengers on board, and saying that the penalty of assisting the enemies of France to escape from justice is death.”

  “That is rather serious,” Harry said.

  “It is nothing,” Adolphe replied confidently. “After yesterday’s work there is not a sailor or fisherman in the port but would do all he could to help people to escape from the hands of the butchers, and once on board, it will help you. You may be sure the sailors will do their best to run away if they can, or to hide any on board, should they be overhauled, now they know that they will be guillotined if anyone is found. However, our captain has made the agreement, and he is a man of his word; besides, he hates the Reds. I have been helping ship the casks to-day, and we have stowed them so as to leave space into which your sisters can crawl and the entrance be stopped up with casks, if we should be overhauled. As for you, monsieur, you will pass anywhere as one of the crew, and we have arranged that one of the men shall at the last moment stay behind, so that the number will be right, and you will answer to his name. We have thought matters over, you see, and I can tell you that the captain does it more because he hates the Reds than for the money. The day before, he would give me no answer. He said he thought the risk was too great; but when I saw him last night he was a different man altogether. His face was as white as a sheet, and his eyes seemed on fire, and he said, ‘I will take your friends, Adolphe. I would take them without a penny. I should never sleep again if, owing to me, they fell into the hands of these monsters.’ So you see he is in it heart and soul.”

  After half an hour’s talk Adolphe and Marthe took their leave. Both refused the reward which Harry had promised, but Harry insisted, and at last Jeanne said:

  “You can refuse for yourselves, but you will make me unhappy if you do not take it. Put it by for Julie; it will help swell her dot when she marries, and will set her husband up in a good fishing-boat if she takes to a sailor.”

  So it was arranged, and Adolphe and his wife went off invoking blessings on the heads of the fugitives. At daybreak the party took their places in the boat with the fishermen. Virginie was still weak, but was able to walk with Harry’s help. Half an hour later a lugger was seen coming down with the wind and tide. She carried a small white flag flying on the mizzen.

  “That is her,” the fisherman said; “that is the signal.”

  He rowed out into the middle of the river. In a few minutes the lugger came dashing along, her course took her within a few feet of the boat, a rope was thrown, and in an instant the boat was tearing through the water alongside her. Half a dozen hands were stretched out, the girls and Harry sprang on board, the rope was cast off, and the fisherman, with a cheery “God speed you,” put out his oars again and rowed to shore.

  CHAPTER XV

  England

  “Go below, mesdemoiselles,” the captain of the lugger said as soon as they had put foot on the deck. “If anyone on the shore were to see us as we ran down, and notice women on deck, he would think it strange. At anyrate it’s best
to be on the safe side.”

  So saying he led the way to his cabin below.

  “It is a rough place, mesdemoiselles,” he said, removing his cap, “but it is better than the prisons at Nantes. I am sorry to say that when we get down near the forts I shall have to ask you to hide down below the casks. I heard last night that in future every boat going out of the river, even if it is only a fishing-boat, is to be searched. But you needn’t be afraid; we have constructed a hiding-place, where they will never find you unless they unloaded the whole lugger, and that there is no chance of their doing.”

  “We do not mind where we hide, captain,” Jeanne said. “We have been hiding for the last six months, and we are indeed grateful to you for having consented to take us with you.”

  “I hope that you will not be the last that the Trois Freres will carry across,” the captain said. “Whatever be the risk, in future I will take any fugitives who wish to escape to England. At first I was against the government, for I thought the people were taxed too heavily, and that if we did away with the nobles things would be better for those who work for their living, but I never bargained for bloodshed and murder, and that affair I saw yesterday has sickened me altogether; and fond as I am of the Trois Freres, I would myself bore holes in her and sink her if I had Carrier and the whole of his murderous gang securely fastened below hatches. This cabin is at your disposal, mesdemoiselles, during the voyage, and I trust you will make yourselves as comfortable as you can. Ah, here is the boy with coffee. Now, if you will permit me, I will go on deck and look after her course.”

  In the meantime Harry was chatting with Adolphe, who introduced him to the crew, whom he had already told of the services Jeanne had rendered, and as several of them lived in the same street they too had heard from their wives of the young woman who lodged with Mere Leflo, and had done so much for those who were suffering. He was therefore cordially received by the sailors, to each of whom the captain had already promised double pay for the voyage if they got through safely.

  “You will remember,” Adolphe said, “that you are Andre Leboeuf. Andre had to make a cold swim of it this morning, for there was the commissary on the wharf when we started, and he had the captain’s list of the crew, and saw that each man was on board and searched high and low to see that there was no one else. So Andre, instead of slipping off home again, had to go with us. When we were out of sight of the town the captain steered as near the bank as he could and Andre jumped over and swam ashore. It is all the better as it has turned out, because the commissary signed the list of the crew and put a seal to it.”

  In four hours the Trois Freres was approaching the forts at the mouth of the river, and the captain came down to the cabin, in which Harry was chatting with the two girls.

  “Now, mesdemoiselles,” he said, “it is time for you to go to your hiding-place, for it will take us nearly half an hour to close it up again. As soon as the Reds have left us we will let you out.”

  The hatch was lifted and they descended into the hold of the vessel, which was full of kegs to within three feet of the deck. The captain carried a lantern.

  “Please follow me, mesdemoiselles, you must crawl along here.”

  The girls followed him until they were close to the bulkhead dividing the hold from the forecastle. Two feet from this there was a vacant space.

  “Now, mesdemoiselles, if you will give me your hands I will lower you down here. Do not be afraid—your feet will touch the bottom; and I have had some hay put there for you to sit upon. Adolphe, you had better go down first with that lantern of yours to receive them.”

  The girls were lowered down and found themselves in a space of five feet long and two feet wide. One side was formed by the bulkhead, on the other there were kegs. Four feet from the bottom a beam of wood had been nailed against the bulkhead. The captain now handed down to Adolphe some short beams; these he fixed with one end resting on the beam, the other in a space between the kegs.

  “This is to form the roof, mesdemoiselles,” he said. “I am going up now, and then we shall place three tiers of kegs on these beams, which will fill it up level with the rest above. I think you will have plenty of air, for it can get down between the casks, and the captain will leave the hatchway open. Are you comfortable?”

  “Quite,” Jeanne said firmly, but Virginie did not answer; the thought of being shut up down there in the dark was terrible to her. However, the warm, steady pressure of Jeanne’s hand reassured her, and she kept her fears to herself. The kegs were lowered into their places, and all was made smooth just as one of the men called down the hatchway to the captain:

  “There is a gunboat coming out from the port, captain.”

  After a last look round the captain sprang on to the deck and ordered the sails to be lowered, and in a few minutes the gunboat ran alongside.

  “Show me your papers,” an officer said as he leaped on board followed by half a dozen sailors. The captain went down into his cabin and brought up the papers.

  “That is all right,” the officer said glancing at them; “now, where is the list of your crew?”

  “This is it,” the captain said taking it from his pocket; “a commissary at Nantes went through them on starting and placed his seal to it, as you see.”

  “Form the men up, and let them answer to their names,” the officer said. The men formed in line and the officer read out the names; Harry answering for Andre Leboeuf. “That is all right, so far,” the officer said. “Now, sir, I must, according to my orders, search your vessel to see that no one is concealed there.”

  “By all means,” the captain said, “you will find the Trois Freres carries nothing contraband except her cargo. I have already taken off the hatch, as you see, in order to save time.”

  The forecastles and cabin were first searched closely. Several of the sailors then descended into the hold. Two lanterns were handed down to them.

  “It looks all clear, sir,” one of the sailors said to their officer. The latter leaped down on to the kegs and looked round.

  “Yes, it looks all right, but you had better shift some of the kegs and see that all is solid.”

  Some of the kegs were moved from their position, and in a few places some of the second tier were also lifted. The officer himself superintended the search.

  “I think I can let you go on now, Captain Grignaud,” he said. “Your men can stow the cargo again. A good voyage to you, and may you meet with no English cruisers by the way.”

  The captain at once gave orders for the sails to be run up again, and by the time the officer and his men had climbed over the bulwarks into the gunboat the Trois Freres had already way upon her. The captain then gave the order for the men to go below and stow the casks again. Adolphe and Harry were the first to leap down, and before the vessels were two hundred yards apart they had removed the two uppermost tiers of kegs next to the bulkhead, and were able to speak to the girls.

  “Are you all right down there, Jeanne?” Harry asked.

  “Yes, quite right, Harry, though the air is rather close. Virginie has fainted; she was frightened when she heard them moving the kegs just over our heads; but she will come round as soon as you get her on deck.”

  The last tier was removed, and Harry lowered himself into the hold; he and Jeanne raised Virginie until Adolphe and one of the other sailors could reach her. Jeanne was lifted on to the cross beams, and was soon beside her sister, and Harry quickly clambered up.

  “They must not come on deck yet,” the captain said, speaking down the hatchway. “We are too close to the gunboat, and from the forts with their glasses they can see what is passing on our deck. Don’t replace the kegs over the hole again, Adolphe; we may be overhauled again, and had better leave it open in case of emergencies.”

  Virginie was carried under the open hatchway; some water was handed down to Jeanne, who sprinkled it on her face, and this with the fresh air speedily brought her round. When the lugger was a mile below the forts, the captain said that t
hey could now safely come up, and they were soon in possession of the cabin again. Before evening the lugger was out of sight of land. The wind was blowing freshly, and she raced along leaving a broad track of foam behind her. The captain and crew were in high spirits at having succeeded in carrying off the fugitives from under the noses of their enemies, and at the progress the lugger was making.

  “We shall not be far from the coast of England by to-morrow night,” the captain said to Harry, “that is if we have the luck to avoid meeting any of the English cruisers. We don’t care much for the revenue cutters, for there is not one of them that can overhaul the Trois Freres in a wind like this. They have all had more than one try, but we can laugh at them; but it would be a different thing if we fell in with one of the Channel cruisers; in a light wind we could keep away from them too, but with a brisk wind like this we should have no chance with them; they carry too much sail for us. There is the boy carrying in the supper to your sisters; with their permission, you and I will sup with them.”

  The captain sent in a polite message to the girls, and on the receipt of the answer that they would be very pleased to have the captain’s company, he and Harry went down. The meal was an excellent one, but the girls ate but little, for they were both beginning to feel the effects of the motion of the vessel, for they had, when once fairly at sea, kept on deck. The captain perceiving that they ate but little proposed to Harry that coffee should be served on deck, so that the ladies might at once lie down for the night.

  “Now, captain,” Harry said as the skipper lit his pipe, “I daresay you would like to hear how we came to be fugitives on board your ship.”

  “If you have no obligation to tell me, I should indeed,” the captain replied; “I have been wondering all day how you young people escaped the search for suspects so long, and how you came to be at Nantes, where, as Adolphe tells me, your sister was an angel among the poor, and that you yourself were a member of the Revolutionary Committee; that seemed to me the most extraordinary of all, but I wouldn’t ask any questions until you yourself volunteered to enlighten me.”