CHAPTER XXXII. THE FALAISE DE BIVILLE.
Everything occurred as De Beauvais had predicted. The authorities in thelittle villages we passed glanced at my passport, and as instantaneouslyhanded it back, and we journeyed like couriers of the Emperor, withouthalt or impediment.
We reached Lisieux early in the evening, where, having dismissed theservant and horses, I took my way on foot towards a small fishingvillage, called La Hupe, where at a certain cabaret I was to find myguide to Biville.
The address of the sailor written on a card, and marked with a peculiarcipher by De Beauvais, was at once recognized by the old Norman, whowelcomed me with a rude but kindly hospitality.
"Thou art more like a man to make this venture than the last three whocame down here," said he, as he slowly measured me with his eye fromhead to foot. "These priests they sent us never dared even to look atthe coast, much less to descend the cliffs; but thou hast a look aboutthee of another fashion. And now, the first thing is to have somethingto eat, and I promise thee a _goutte_ of brandy will not be amiss toprepare thee for what is before thee."
"Is there, then, so much of danger in the descent?"
"Not if a man's head be steady and his hand firm; but he must have both,and a stout heart to guide them, or the journey is not over-pleasant.Art thou cool enough in time of peril to remember what has been toldthee for thy guidance?"
"Yes; I hope I can promise so much."
"Then thou art all safe; so eat away, and leave the rest to me."
Although the sailor's words had stimulated my curiosity in the highestdegree, I repressed every semblance of the feeling, and ate my supperwith a well-feigned appearance of easy indifference; while he questionedme about the hopes of the Bourbon party in their secret machinations,with a searching inquisitiveness that often nearly baffled all myingenuity in reply.
"Ah! _par Saint Denis!_" said he, with a deep sigh, "I see well thouhast small hope now; and, in truth, I feel as thou dost. When GeorgeCadoudal and his brave fellows failed, where are we to look for success?I mind well the night he supped here."
"Here, said you?"
"Ay, where you sit now,--on the same seat. There was an Englishofficer with him. He wore a blue uniform, and sat yonder, beneath thatfishing-net; the others were hid along the shore."
"Was it here they landed, then?"
"Yes, to be sure, at the Falaise; there is not another spot to land onfor miles along the coast."
The old sailor then began a circumstantial account of the arrival ofGeorge and his accomplices from England; and told how they had one byone scaled the cliffs by means of a cord, well known in these parts,called the "smuggler's rope." "Thou shalt see the spot now," added he,"for there's the signal yonder."
He pointed as he spoke to an old ruined tower, which crowned a cliffabout half a mile distant, and from a loophole in which I could see abranch of ivy waving, as though moved by the wind.
"And what may that mean?"
"The cutter is in sight; as the wind is off shore, she 'll be able tocome in close to-night. Indeed, if it blew from the westward, she darednot venture nearer, nor thou, either, go down to meet her. So, now let'sbe moving."
About twenty minutes' walking brought us to the old signal-tower, onlooking from the window of which I beheld the sea plashing full threehundred feet beneath. The dark rocks, fissured by time and weather, wereabrupt as a wall, and in some places even overhung the waves that rolledheavily below. Masses of tangled seaweed and shells, which lay in thecrevices of the cliffs, showed where in times of storm the wild waterswere thrown; while lower down, amid fragments of rocks, the heavy beamsand planks of shipwrecked vessels surged with every motion of the tide.
"You cannot see the cutter now," said the old sailor,--"the setting sunleaves a haze over the sea; but in a few minutes more we shall see her."
"I am rather looking for the pathway down this bold cliff," replied I,as I strained my eyes to catch something like a way to descend by.
"Then throw thine eyes in this direction," said the sailor, as hepointed straight down beneath the window of the tower. "Seest thou thatchain there? Well, follow it a little farther, and thou may'st mark apiece of timber jutting from the rock."
"Yes, I see it plainly."
"Well, the path thou asketh for is beneath that spar. It is a good ropeof stout hemp, and has carried the weight of many a brave fellow beforenow."
"The smuggler's rope?"
"The same. Art afraid to venture, now thou seest the place?"
"You'll not find me so, friend. I have seen danger as close before now,and did not blink it."
"Mark me well, then," said he, laying his hand on my arm. "When thoureadiest that rope, thou wilt let thyself cautiously down to a smallprojecting point of rock; we cannot see it here, but thou wilt soondiscern it in the descent. The rope from this goes no farther, for thatspot is nigh sixty fathom below us. From thence the cliff slopes sharplydown about thirty or forty feet. Here thou must creep cautiously,--forthe moss is dry and slippery at this season,--till thou nearest theedge. Mark me well, now: near the edge thou'lt find a large stonefast-rooted in the ground; and around that another rope is fastened, bywhich thou may'st reach the bottom of the precipice. There is but oneplace of peril in the whole."
"The sloping bank, you mean?"
"Yes; that bit will try thy nerve. Remember, if thy foot slip, there'snothing to stop thy fall; the cliff is rounded over the edge, and theblue sea beats two hundred feet below it. And see! look yonder, far awaythere! Seest thou the twinkling, as of a small star, on the water?"
"The cutter will throw up a rocket, will she not?"
"A rocket!" repeated he, contemptuously; "that's some landsman's storythou hast been listening to. A rocket would bring the whole fleet ofboats from Treport on her. No, no; they know better than that: thefaintest glimmer of a fishing-craft is all they 'll dare to show. Butsee how steadily it burns now! we must make the signal seawards."
"Halloo, Joseph! a light there."
A boy's voice answered from the upper part of the tower,--the samefigure who made the signal towards the shore, and whose presence there Ihad altogether forgotten; and in a few minutes a red glare on the rocksbelow showed that the old man's command was obeyed, and the beaconlighted.
"Ah! they see it already," cried he, triumphantly, pointing seawards;"they've extinguished the light now, but will show it again, from timeto time."
"But tell me, friend, how happens it that the marines of the Guard, wholine this coast, do not perceive these signals?"
"And who tells thee that they do not? They may be looking, as we arenow, at that same craft, and watching Her as she beats in shore; butthey know better than to betray us. Ah, _ma foi!_ the 'contrebande'is better than the Government. Enough for them if they catch some poorEnglish prisoner now and then, and have him shot; that contents theEmperor, as they call him, and he thinks the service all that is braveand vigilant. But as to us, it is our own fault if we fall in with them;it would need the rocket you spoke of a while ago to shame them into it.There, look again,--thou seest how far in shore they've made already;the cutter is stealing fast along the water. Answer the signal, Joseph."
The boy replenished the fire with some dry wood, and it blazed upbrilliantly, illuminating the gray cliffs and dark rocks, on which thenight was fast falling, but leaving all beyond its immediate sphere indeepest blackness.
"I see not, friend, by what means I am to discover this sloping cliff,much less guide my way along it," said I, as I gazed over the precipice,and tried to penetrate the gloomy abyss below me.
"Thou 'lt have the moon at full in less than two hours; and if thou 'lttake a friend's counsel, thou 'lt have a sleep ere that time. Lay theedown yonder on those rushes; I 'll awake thee when time comes for it."
The rather that I resolved to obey my old guide in his every direction,than from any desire for slumber at such a time, I followed his advice,and threw myself full length in a corner of the tower. In the perfectstillness of
the hour, the sea alone was heard, surging in slow, minutepeals through many a deep cavern below; and then, gathering for freshefforts, it swelled and beat against the stern rocks in passionate fury.Such sounds, heard in the silence of the night, are of the saddest; norwas their influence lightened by the low, monotonous chant of the oldsailor, who, seated in a corner, began to repair a fishing-net, as hesang to himself some ditty of the sea.
How strangely came the thought to my mind, that all the peril I onceincurred to reach France, the hoped-for, wished-for land, I shouldagain brave to escape from its shores! Every dream of boyish ambitiondissipated, every high hope flown, I was returning to my country as poorand humble as I left it, but with a heart shorn of all the enthusiasmthat gave life its coloring. In what way I could shape my future careerI was not able even to guess; a vague leaning to some of England'sdistant colonies, some new world beyond the seas, being all myimagination could frame of my destiny. A sudden flash of light,illuminating the whole interior of the tower, startled me from mymusings, while the sailor called out,--
"Come, wake up, friend! The cutter is standing in close, and a signal tomake haste flying from her mast."
I sprang to my legs, and looked out. The sea was all freckled with themoonlight, and the little craft shone like silver, as the bright beamsglanced on her white sails. The tall cliffs alone preserved their gloom,and threw a dark and frowning shadow over the waves beneath them.
"I can see nothing close to shore," said I, pointing to the dark rocksbeneath the window.
"Thou'lt have the moon presently; she's rising above the crest of thehill, and then the cliffs are clear as at noonday. So, make haste! strapon that knapsack on your shoulder; high up, mind; and give thine armsfull play,--that's it. Now fasten thy shoes over all; thou wert notabout to wear them, surely?" said he in a tone almost derisive. "Takecare, in keeping from the face of the rock, not to sway the rope; itwears the cordage. And, above all, mind well when thou reachest thecliff below; let not thy hold go before thou hast well felt thy footing.See, the moon is up already!"
As he spoke, a vast sheet of yellow light seemed to creep over the wholeface of the precipice, displaying every crag and projection, and makingevery spot of verdure or rock brilliant in color; while, many a fathomdown below, the heavy waves were seen,--now rising in all their majesticswell, now pouring back in their thousand cataracts from every fissurein the precipice. So terribly distinct did each object show, sodreadfully was each distance marked, I felt that all its former gloomand darkness were not one half so thrilling as that moonlight splendor.
"La bonne Marie guard thee now!" said the old seaman, as he wrung myhand in his strong fingers. "Be steady and cool of head, and there isno danger; and look not downwards till thou hast got accustomed to thecliff."
As he said this, he opened a small door at the foot of the tower stair,and passing through himself, desired me to follow. I did so, and nowfound myself on a narrow ledge of rock, directly over the crag; below,at about ten feet, lay the chain to which the rope was attached, and toreach it was not the least perilous part of the undertaking. But in thisI was assisted by the old man, who, passing a rope through a massiveiron staple, gradually lowered me till my hand came opposite the chain.
"Thou hast it now," cried he, as he saw me disengage one hand and graspthe iron links firmly.
"Yes, all safe! Good-by, friend; good-by!"
"Wait yet," cried he again. "Let not go the cord before thou thinkesta minute or so; I have known more than one change his mind when he felthimself where thou art."
"Mine is made up. Farewell!"
"Stay, stay!" shouted he rapidly. "See, thou hast forgotten this purseon the rock here; wait, and I will lower it with a cord."
By this time I had grasped the chain firmly with both hands, and withthe resolve of one who felt life depend on his own firmness, I beganthe descent. The old man's voice, as he muttered a prayer for my safety,grew fainter and fainter, till at length it ceased to reach my earsaltogether.
Then, for the first time, did my heart sink within me. The words of onehuman being, faint and broken by distance, suggested a sense of sympathywhich nerved my courage and braced my arm; but the dreary silence thatfollowed, only broken by the booming of the sea below, was awful beyondmeasure.
Hand below hand I went, the space seeming never to lessen, as I strainedmy eyes to catch the cliff where the first rope ended. Time, as insome fearful dream, seemed protracted to years long; and I alreadyanticipated the moment when, my strength failing, my hands wouldrelinquish their hold, and I should be dashed upon the dark rocks below.The very sea-birds, which I startled in my descent, wheeled round myhead, piercing the air with their shrill cries, and as if impatient fora prey. Above my head the frowning cliff beetled darkly; below, a depthunfathomable seemed to stretch, from whose black abyss arose the wildsounds of beating waves. More than once, too, I thought that therope had given way above, and that I was actually falling through theair,--and held my breath in horror; then, again, the idea flashedupon me that death inevitable awaited me, and I fancied in the singingbillows I could hear the wild shouts of demons rejoicing over my doom.
Through all these maddening visions, the instinct to preserve my lifeheld its strong sway, and I clutched the knotted rope with the eagergrasp of a drowning man; when suddenly I felt my foot strike a rockbeneath, and then discovered I was on the cliff of which the sailor hadtold me. In a few seconds the sense of security imparted a thrill ofpleasure to my heart, and I uttered a prayer of thankfulness for mysafety.
But the fearful conviction of greater danger as suddenly succeeded. Therope I had so long trusted terminated here; the end hung listlessly onthe rock, and from thence to the brow of the cliff nothing remained toafford a grip save the short moss and the dried ferns withered with thesun. The surface of this frightful ledge sloped rapidly towards the edgewhere was the rock around which the rope was tied.
Fatigued by my previous exertion I sat down on that moss-grown cliff andgazed out upon the sea, along which the cutter came, proudly dashingthe spray from her bows, and bending gracefully with every wave. She wasstanding fearlessly in, for the wind was off the land, and, as she sweptalong, I could have fancied her directly beneath my very feet.
Arousing myself from the momentary stupor of my faculties, I began tocreep down the cliff; but so slippery had the verdure become by heat,that I could barely sustain myself by grasping the very earth with myfingers. Aloud "Halloo!" was shouted from the craft, and arose in manyan echo around me; I tried to reply, but could not. A second cheersaluted me, but I did not endeavor to answer it. The moment was full ofperil. I had come to the last spot which offered a hold, and below me,at some feet, lay the rock, hanging, as it were, over the precipice; itseemed to me as though a sea-bird's weight might have sent it thunderinginto the depth beneath. The moon was on it, and I could see the ropecoiled twice around it, and knotted carefully. What would I have givenin that terrible minute for one tuft of grass, one slender bough, evenenough to have sustained my weight for a second or two, until I shouldgrasp the cord! But none was there.
A louder cry from the cutter now rang in my ears, and the dreadfulthought of destruction now flashed on me. I fixed my eyes on the rock tomeasure the place; and then, turning with my face towards the cliff, Isuffered myself to slip downwards. At first I went slowly; then fasterand faster. At last my legs passed over the brow of the precipice. Iwas falling! My head reeled. I uttered a cry, and in an agony of despairthrew out my hands. They caught the rope. Knot after knot slipped pastmy fingers in the descent ere my senses became sufficiently clear toknow what was occurring. But even then the instinct of self-preservationwas stronger than reason; for I afterwards learned from the boat's crewwith what skill I guided myself along the face of the cliff, avoidingevery difficulty of the jagged rocks, and tracking my way like the mostexperienced climber.
I stood upon a broad fiat rock, over which white sheets of foam weredashing. Oh, how I loved to see them curling on my feet t I cou
ld havekissed the bright water on which the moonbeams sported, for the momentof danger was passed; the shadow of a dreadful death had moved frommy soul. What cared I now for the boiling surf that toiled and frettedabout me? The dangers of the deep were as nothing to that I escapedfrom; and when the cutter's boat came bounding towards me, I mindednot the oft-repeated warnings of the sailors, but plunging in, I dashedtowards her on a retreating wave, and was dragged on board almostlifeless from my struggles.
The red glare of the signal-fire was blazing from the old tower as wegot under weigh. I felt my eyes riveted on it as I lay on the deck ofthe little vessel, which now stood out to sea in gallant style. It wasmy last look of France, and so I felt it.
Tom Burke Of Ours, Volume II Page 32
