CHAPTER IV.
It became very apparent to our hero, after traversing one or two streets, that there was some great commotion going on in other parts of the town, for the shouts and outcries from the distance were deafening. As yet they had passed but few persons, and those seemed all to be hurrying in one direction.
Toulon at this period contained nearly five thousand inhabitants within its walls; three parts of this population were Republicans, and so were the bulk of the fleet. Jean Plessis led the way some distance ahead, when suddenly, in turning the corner of a street, they encountered a mob, swearing and shouting furiously; and to the great astonishment of William Thornton, he perceived that a large body of the people surrounded Lieutenant Cooke and a few of the Committee, and were evidently bent upon obstructing their path to the dock gates, which were now in sight. In a moment the young man and his terrified charge were pushed out of the road, and the next instant became mingled with the riotous mob they had so unfortunately stumbled upon. Still holding Mabel by the hand, the midshipman, a resolute and strong youth for his age, sturdily strove to gain the side of Lieutenant Cooke[2]and the Commissioners, who were arguing with the mob; but just then a ferocious-looking man, with his neck and throat bare, no coat on his back, but with an apron and a butcher’s knife tied round his waist, suddenly clutched our hero by the collar, in a terrible grip, spluttering out:
“Ah, cursed aristocrat Anglais, what are you doing with this boy?”
Without a moment’s hesitation William Thornton drew a pistol from his pocket, cocked it, and putting it close to the man’s head, said—
“Let go, ruffian, or you are a dead man!”
The surly villain let go his hold with a horrid oath, and the midshipman, catching his young and terrified companion round the waist, burst through the startled group surrounding him,and the next instant was by Lieutenant Cooke’s side, just as a large body of the Committee and a Royalist guard of marines came up to protect the British envoy.
“Is that you, William?” said the Lieutenant, astonished. “Put up your pistol; do not let them see you armed. What boy is this?”
“I will tell you, sir, when we get to the boat; but push on for the dock gates, they are getting furious. See that tall ruffian—I should like to shoot him—is exciting the mob.”
“How bloodthirsty you are, William,” said the Lieutenant, and then turning to some of the Commissioners, he urged their getting within the dock gates as soon as possible. The marines cleared the way, and in a few minutes they were safe within the gates, but not before the huge butcher, struggling through the crowd, had aimed a large brick with violence at our hero, shouting out—
“Take that, cursed aristocrat! I will have your head one of these days!”
The missile missed its intended mark, but knocked down one of the Commissioners in front. William Thornton would have shot the fellow instantly, but Lieutenant Cooke pushed him inside the gate with his little charge, saying—
“By Jove, youarea hot-headed boy; your impetuosity must be restrained!”
The great gates of the dock basin being closed, kept out the mob, and the party proceeded quietly along the jetty.
“I fear, Mabel,” said the midshipman, stooping and looking into the little pale face of his charge, “all this has frightened you very much.”
“Yes,” said the child, in her quiet, sweet voice; “but I am more frightened about mamma; and, awhile ago, I thought more of you, when that horrid man seized you, than of myself.”
“Well, please God, Mabel, your mamma will join us to-night. At all events, all danger to you is over; there is our boat yonder pulling in for the jetty.”
Lieutenant Cooke, taking our hero by the arm, said, in a low voice—
“Well, how did you get on? and who is that delicate-looking boy?”
“This is the Duchesse De Coulancourt’s little girl,” returned William Thornton. “We shall take the Duchess up on the beach to-night as we go by; but I will tell you all when I get on board. What occurred at the meeting?”
“A precious row, my lad; I thought at one time we should all have had our throats cut. However, in the end, they signed a declaration, agreeing to our Admiral’s proposal, so allwe have to do is to get back to our ship, and I suppose in a day or so we shall be in possession of the town or port.”
On board one of the dismasted craft in the basin, provisions and all kinds of drinkables were prepared for the English officers and the crew of the gig, and thither they all proceeded, with several naval officers of the Royalist party. No one seemed to notice the child; whether they thought he came in the boat with them or not, William Thornton could not say; but, leaving the Lieutenant to entertain the French officers, the midshipman and hisprotégéesat down in one of the private cabins of the frigate, and Bill Saunders brought them a share of the repast from the main cabin.
Mabel recovered her spirits a little when our hero told her that the Royalists would hold possession of the town, and that the British fleet would sail into the port in a day or two, so that there would be no fear of her mamma, even if she was not able to join them that night.
“Ah!” said the little girl; “but what will become of me, in this horrid dress, if she does not? Are there any females on board your ship?”
“No, Mabel, there are not (luckily,” he added to himself, “or adieu to discipline); but if by any chance your mamma should be prevented joining us, I will take you on board the Thetis; Captain Timmins’s wife and daughter are there. They are going in a day or two to Genoa; they will, I am sure, take great care of you for a night or two.”
“Oh! dear William,” said the child, anxiously clasping his hand in hers, “do not let me go from you; put me in any corner near you; I won’t mind wearing this dress for a day or two, but do not send me amongst strangers. I look upon you as a brother now.”
Our hero promised all he could promise, but he recollected that, after all, he was but a midshipman, and one without rank or station, and entirely depending on his own exertions. However, he tried to keep up the poor girl’s spirits, and, by chatting to her, keep her from fretting.
“How long, Mabel,” questioned young Thornton, “were you confined in that dismal house I found you in?”
“Oh, nearly—let me see—yes, fully a month; sometimes in the dismal vaults. When good Jean Plessis was out getting food we always went below, and he closed the trap down over us. Oh, how damp and chill it was; but we were well wrapped up in blankets, and he never stayed away more than an hour or two at most.”
“I think I heard your mamma say she escaped from Lyons, and that you suffered much there?”
“Oh, you can’t think what we endured! You must knowwe were living in a very grand château, belonging to mamma’s husband, the Duke de Coulancourt, who, alas! was beheaded in Paris, for fighting for the poor king. Oh, my poor mamma, when Jean Plessis came from Paris with the frightful intelligence, lost her senses. My brother—dear brother Julian—was furious and distracted. He was only fifteen; he wanted to go to Paris, but Jean Plessis said we must fly or we should perish, for the order was to arrest all the Duke’s family. But, alas! mamma was not able to fly; we moved into Lyons, thinking to be safer there, as they were all Royalists. I am not able to tell you all mamma suffered whilst there; she will tell you herself, another time. I am now so frightened and anxious about her that I can scarcely recollect anything.”
Thus the remainder of the day passed, till Lieutenant Cooke’s entertainers, officers and all, quitted the ship, leaving the English officer to make his daring passage through the hostile fleet.
“Now, William, tell me all about your adventure,” said Lieutenant Cooke to his young companion—little Mabel being fast asleep in a berth, worn out by fatigue and great anxiety, with the casket placed at her feet.
William Thornton made his superior officer fully acquainted with all that had occurred, and explained the manner in which they were to take the Duchesse de Coulancourt on board.
“By Jupiter!” returned Lieutenant Cooke, looking surprised, and not a little puzzled, “you are a young hero, William, for an adventure with Royalist duchesses and Republican ruffians, and all of a sudden to become the protector of a young girl and a valuable casket. Faith! it’s a very curious affair. What shall we do if circumstances prevent us pulling along the beach where we may expect to find this unfortunate lady? We may be suspected by some of the nearest men-of-war; and, if so, the whole bay along that beach is exposed to their fire. Supposing we fail in rescuing the mother, what in the name of fate is to be done with this poor little child? A girl, too, on board a ship with above a thousand sea bears in her!—nice nurses for a delicate child, eh?”
“I was thinking,” said the midshipman, “if, as you say, we miss the mother, that she might be received by Captain Timmins’s lady and daughter. They are on board the Thetis frigate, which is going to Genoa. The Captain’s wife and daughters are to land at Malta, I understand.”
“Faith! may be Captain Timmins would not be very much obliged to you for troubling his good lady with the care of such a delicate little girl as the poor thing asleep there.”
“She is only delicate from suffering and privation,” saidWilliam Thornton; “besides, she belongs to a good English family, who will receive her most willingly; and who knows what’s in this casket—the Duchess said there were jewels of value.”
“Well, by Jove! my lad,” said the good-humoured Lieutenant, “you are standing up stoutly for your youngprotégée. However, there’s no use imagining disasters that may not occur. Her mother may be rescued; and, if not, we must do our best for the child, and try to get her to England. Now I think of it, there are two transports returning to England at anchor outside, and lots of women on board one of them, so, at least, I heard. However, let us get ready for a start; it’s nearly time, so wake up your little charge.”
It was nearly eleven o’clock ere the boat left the basin to return to the Victory. Mabel Arden, carefully muffled in a boat-cloak, and keeping as close to her young protector as she dared, was extremely anxious, and won upon the good-nature of Lieutenant Cooke by her gentle, affectionate manner, and sweet, interesting face. It was a very still, fine night, but fortunately much overcast. Having passed out into the inner harbour, the men pulled steadily, and without speaking a word, till they cleared the dangerous vicinity of some of the vessels of war anchored near the dock basin. Without being challenged, they gained the outward harbour, avoiding the line of heavy ships anchored in double rows. William Thornton kept the boat away from the shore. As there is no tide in Toulon harbour, or in the Mediterranean, of more than a few inches, and that merely caused by peculiar gales of wind, they were able to row close along the beach. It was scarcely possible to distinguish objects on the shore, so, for fear those they expected might miss them, a dark lantern was opened, with its light towards the beach. They could distinctly distinguish the huge hulls and masts of the nearest men-of-war, several of them not being more than a couple of hundred yards from them. As they pulled slowly along, they suddenly beheld a bright light ashore; it was held up for a moment only, and then all became dark again, but at the same moment a hail from the nearest ship came over the still waters.
“Pull in, my men,” said the Lieutenant. “By Jove! we are seen, and shall have a shot next.”
The next moment the boat’s keel touched the beach, close beside a ruined quay. A man came forward. The midshipman knew him at once; it was Jean Plessis. Mabel threw off her cloak, exclaiming eagerly, in French—
“Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu! Where is mamma, Monsieur Jean Plessis?”
The man sprang into the boat, saying, “Make way out ofthe harbour, monsieur; we are betrayed. I will explain—ha! there goes a gun.” The same moment a ball struck the ruined wall some four paces from them, knocking a heap of rubbish about, and covering them with a cloud of splinters.
“Push off—by Jove! that’s close shaving!”—said Lieutenant Cooke; “and give way with a will.”
On flew the light boat, and again a flash, and a prolonged report pealed over the water, the shot drenching them with spray, as it actually bounded over them, and tore along the beach afterwards; but, vigorously urged along by the hardy crew, they turned a long, projecting point of high rock, that effectually sheltered them from further danger. The agonised Mabel, bursting into tears, implored Jean Plessis to say what had become of her mother.
“My poor child,” said the Frenchman, with great feeling in voice and manner, “don’t be alarmed; there is no fear of the Duchess’s life, but they have carried her off.”
“Oh, my God! I shall never see mamma again. Why, why did I leave her? If they have taken her away they would have taken me too.”
“How has this occurred?” said Lieutenant Cooke, while the midshipman strove to soothe the weeping girl.
“I will tell you, monsieur,” said Jean Plessis, “and then you must put me on shore, for I will never cease till I trace madame to where her enemies have taken her. She has not been, I feel certain, carried off by the revolutionary party, but by private enemies, who have contrived to track us to Toulon.”
“Why do you think that, Monsieur Plessis?” asked Lieutenant Cooke.
“I will tell you, monsieur,” replied the Frenchman. “We had scarcely passed the gates, and were making the best of our way to gain the appointed spot—the ruined quay—when from behind a low hedge half-a-dozen men sprang out. I was instantly knocked down by a blow from the butt end of a carbine, and rolled into a ditch. I was quite sensible, but remained still. They had seized the Duchess; she did not scream nor attempt to fly. I then heard one of the men say, ‘Bring up the Berlin;’ the next moment a calèche with two horses came out from behind the hedge through a gateway. Madame was put inside, and then the same man said, ‘Parbleu! I forgot; have you finished that fellow Plessis? Do not leave him to be hunting us out, I pray you; it’s bad enough to lose the little girl.’ As soon as I heard these words, I crept along the ditch, and fled as fast as I could, to save those villains the trouble of knocking me on the head.”
“Have you any idea,” said Lieutenant Cooke, “who these ruffians are?”
“I suspect they are employed by a kinsman of the late Duke and next heir, who would have inherited the property, had not the Duchess’s husband, some five years ago, made over the whole of his property to her, having had the power to will it to whom he pleased. This kinsman’s name is Ganel-Maria Montaut. He will not bring the Duchess to the guillotine, because, if she loses her life, the estates will be seized by the nation. Collet de Herbois would destroy her from motives of hatred and vengeance, she having scorned his daring proposals, after her husband’s death.”
“Then what do you think the best to do with this poor child?” questioned William Thornton, anxiously, as the keel of the boat grounded on a shingly beach.
“Get her as soon as possible to England, where she has wealthy relatives,” said Jean Plessis, “and God will reward you. The Ardens are of good family; besides, there are jewels of great value in that casket you have. As to me, I will never cease till I trace Madame la Duchesse, and if I can I will communicate with Mademoiselle Arden hereafter in England.”
So saying, he took the weeping girl in his arms and kissed her affectionately, and then, laying his hand on William Thornton’s arm, said emphatically—
“Never desert this little girl whilst you have life and power to assist her;” the next moment he sprang on shore, waved his hand, and disappeared in the obscurity of the night.
Mabel burst into a flood of tears, and putting her little arms round young Thornton’s neck, exclaimed—
“Oh! my mother! my poor mother; shall I never see her again? But you—you will not desert poor Mabel?”
William Thornton kissed the cold cheek of the little girl, for whom he already felt the affection of a brother, saying—
“Do not give way to grief, Mabel; God, who has protected you through such perils, will protect you now, and restore your dear mother to you. Call me brother, for I will show you all the affection a brother can.”
“Well, upon my honour,” said the Lieutenant, “if this is not a romance I know not what is. Give way, my lads, give way, and let us get on board, and thank our stars that one of those round shot did not stop our logs.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said Bill Saunders, pulling the stroke oar, and making the tough ash bend to his powerful arm, whilst muttering to himself, “yes, blow me if I wouldn’t be a father to the little thing myself.”
FOOTNOTES:[2]Lieutenant Cooke was arrested in the streets of Toulon by the mob, but was in the end allowed to proceed to his boat.—James’s Naval History.
[2]Lieutenant Cooke was arrested in the streets of Toulon by the mob, but was in the end allowed to proceed to his boat.—James’s Naval History.
[2]Lieutenant Cooke was arrested in the streets of Toulon by the mob, but was in the end allowed to proceed to his boat.—James’s Naval History.