CHAPTER XXXI.
Ten or twelve days after the events recorded in our last chapter, a very happy and pleasant party were assembled in the grand saloon of the Château Coulancourt.
Madame Coulancourt, her son Julian, her daughter Mabel, and our hero, were now together; each had related to the other his or her various adventures, and now all their attention and object was directed to an escape to England. Madame de Coulancourt had arrived from Paris two days before; need we describe her rapture and joy, when Julian threw himself into her arms—the son so long lost, and so deeply lamented?
Madame de Coulancourt was still a beautiful and fascinating woman, scarcely more than forty. Her ardent desire was to quit France for ever; she cared not for the loss of property. Coulancourt was all she could lose, having sold her other estates for nearly two hundred thousand francs. This Jean Plessis had managed, through the instrumentality of one of the directors, named Barras, a man of the most depraved and dissolute life, and of the most unbounded extravagance. At this time Barras had almost unlimited power; he was one of the three remaining directors. The other two, though men of stern integrity of purpose, were yet ruled by Barras, who alone of the three was capable of receiving foreign ambassadors, holding levées, and giving entertainments, for he was possessed of easy and polished manners, and put off the strange fantastic dress the directors at that period attired themselves in, assuming the graceful costume of the days of chivalry, the doublet and plumed bonnet of Francis I.
Barras was totally unprincipled; he sold almost every office in his power to enable him to keep up his vain and luxurious career. The terrible depravity and licentiousness that prevailed in France at this era, it is well known, was the result of deplorable corruption. Barras permitted the sale of Madame de Coulancourt’s property, reserving for himself the half of whatever it produced; thus Jean Plessis managed to secure the other half, as well at to obtain permission for her to visit Château Coulancourt.
The fearful state of France, and the horrid depravity of manners prevailing in Paris, had first excited in Madame Coulancourt the wish to attempt a flight to England. The only drawback that held her irresolute was the fear of dragging Jean Plessis and his family into trouble. But that gentleman was secure in the favour of Barras; and declared, if her escape was to be attempted, it was whilst Barras was in power. No human being could conjecture how long that power might last, so conflicting and evanescent was everything in those days.
Monsieur Plessis and family were gone to Havre for a day or two, to make some purchases; thus, only Madame Coulancourt, her son and daughter, and Lieutenant Thornton, remained in the château with their domestics and Rose. They were planning their intended project of escaping into Flanders, and thence to England; but our hero thought that mode of getting out of France hazardous in the extreme.
“I was conversing with Julian last night upon this subject,” he observed, “and we both agreed that our flight could much more easily be contrived by sea.”
“By sea!” repeated mother and daughter, “how procure a vessel? and where embark? we should be detected at once, at any port in France.”
“I have a bold project in my head,” said the English lieutenant; “we have hitherto escaped all suspicion; even Monsieur Gramont is growing polite and affable, and pays you every attention.”
“Ah!” said Mabel, shaking her head, “I strongly doubt his politeness; there is something working in his brain, I am sure. I have caught his eye fixed upon you several times with a very meaning glance.”
The young man smiled, and looking affectionately at Mabel, said—
“If he had any suspicion he would never have allowed all this time to elapse without acting. However, I will tell you how Julian and I have thought of proceeding. The Vengeance privateer is almost ready for sea. She is repaired, and all nearly complete, lying at anchor in a pool in the creek; and, from what Rose Moret heard her brother-in-law say, it is her captain’s intention, in a week or so, to take her round to Havre for stores.”
“But, dear William,” observed Mabel, anxiously, “the idea of you and Julian seizing this privateer with her crew on board is surely only an imaginary project?”
“No, dearest, we are not so mad as that,” said Lieutenant Thornton, with a smile. “You must hear me out. Captain O’Loughlin is still on the coast with the Onyx corvette. Rose says her brother in his lugger passed within hail of the Onyxthe day before yesterday. Now, Julian and I purpose to go to-morrow to Lyon Head, and have a look-out, and to repeat our visit every day till we are able to make a signal to the corvette. If we fail in establishing communication with her, of course our project falls to the ground, for three persons could never dream of capturing the Vengeance. To signal the Onyx is worth the trial, however.”
“Well,” said Madame Coulancourt, after a moment’s thought, “I do think William’s project has a chance of success; though all depends on being able, as he says, of communicating with the corvette.”
“Then supposing you do communicate with Captain O’Loughlin,” said Mabel, anxiously, “how would you proceed?”
“Oh! nothing easier in that case,” interrupted Julian, eagerly, “with a boat’s crew we should seize the Vengeance, which William is so desperately anxious to do, to pay off Captain Gaudet for his cruelty, embark you on board, and before any alarm could be given at Havre, we should be at sea, and with the corvette hold our own against any armed crafts sent after us.”
“Would not this involve Jean Plessis with the authorities?” asked Madame Coulancourt.
“Not more than any other mode of escape,” replied her nephew; “but Monsieur Plessis is so secure of the favour of Barras, and has him so much in his power, that he feels very little uneasiness even if he remained behind. Though he has not yet spoken to you on the subject, he is nearly as anxious to quit France with his family as you are. The precariousness of life and property in this country urges him to emigrate and settle in England; and I have offered him,” continued Lieutenant Thornton, “on succeeding to the property I am entitled to, the stewardship over the whole, and a sufficient annuity to live independently on.”
“Oh! I am sure,” cried both Madame Coulancourt and Mabel, eagerly, “if that is Jean Plessis’ wish and intention we shall both be able to render him not only independent, but most comfortable. He has all his life,” continued madame, “served the duke my husband, and myself, with unshaken fidelity, and I feel towards him as towards one connected with my family with ties of relationship. Julian also will be entitled to the Etherton property, though, at the same time, it will be cruel to deprive those now in possession of all they have so long considered their own; therefore, some kind of decision ought to take place. I am sure Julian will agree with me.”
“Most certainly, dear mother; my uncle or his son—the latter now holds the title and property—were innocentlyinheritors of it, and to deprive them of all now might involve them in difficulties insurmountable.”
“And yet,” said Lieutenant Thornton, somewhat sternly, “they, especially the late baronet, felt no pity or remorse in not only refusing Mabel’s claims, but in adding insult and mockery to their heartlessness, though they knew in their hearts that my poor littleprotégée, as I was then in the habit of styling her, was thrown in a manner helpless upon the exertions of two poor sailors.”
“And nobly the two poor sailors protected little Mabel,” said our heroine, the tears rising in her eyes, as she looked with devoted affection into the face of her lover.
“I, at all events, dear Mabel,” said our hero, “am richly repaid, by living in the memory of her I protected to the best of my ability.”
“Ah!” said Madame Coulancourt, with an earnestness unmistakable, “would to God we were all in dear England! What I have suffered in this land I can never tell; even when restored to liberty, living in Paris, and forced to enter society to avoid the remarks, and the secret espionage of the Minister of Police. When the constraint and gloom of the Jacobin rule was discarded, the thirst for amusement and dissipation that followed was carried to an unbounded and disgusting excess, in manners, in attire, and in immorality. It was only in the circles of Madame Josephine Beauharnais, that most amiable of women, and Madame Canabas, whose beauty was perfectly entrancing, and Madame de Stäel, that a refuge was to be obtained from the licentiousness everywhere else openly and unblushingly displayed. You would scarcely believe it, but I was forced to attend balls, where none but the relations of persons who had suffered death under the axe of the guillotine were allowed to appear. Our hair also was tied up as it would have been previous to execution. These fêtes were termed ‘Balls of the victims.’ Then came the dreadful famine; ah! memory will always cling to the scenes of the past, and yet how truly merciful has Providence been to me! Have I not my children? It is wrong to murmur, whilst joy and thankfulness should fill my heart.”
Lieutenant Thornton had his eyes fixed upon his aunt; he thought he had never beheld a face possessing so perfectly fascinating an expression. In her youth she must have been—lovely as Mabel was—much more beautiful; her height was tall and commanding, with easy and graceful manner. The evening passed pleasantly over, conversing on the past, and proposing many schemes for the future.
Monsieur Gramont was said to have gone to Paris; all appeared tranquil around them. Lieutenant Thornton andJulian Arden, the following morning, set out for a visit to Lyon Head, to have a look out over old ocean. The month was not yet out during which the Onyx was expected to be cruising on and off the coast, and the two young men hoped to be able, during their trips to the Head, to get a glimpse of her, for they both knew what a sincere, anxious friend Captain O’Loughlin was, and how determinedly he would keep his word, provided his duty permitted him to do so. The distance to Lyon Head from the château was scarcely six miles, and, by avoiding the village, the road led through a very deserted part of the country, and across ranges of sand hills.
Skirting the village, the two young men soon came in upon the desert track, and commenced traversing those singular mountains of sand, many of them above one hundred feet in height, and covered with a wild and curious species of vegetation, peculiar to them and their soil. These sand hills were three miles in breadth, and terminated at the eastern extremity by a rocky shore. Long before they reached Lyon Head they obtained a clear view of the sea to the westward; but the entrance to Havre was shut out from their sight by the cliffs of Caux. They could see many vessels, making evidently for the mouth of the Seine, but no vessel of war met their anxious gaze. On gaining the Head, they commanded a view to the eastward. Julian carried a pocket telescope, but nothing in the shape of a cruiser met their gaze.
“I am not at all disheartened,” said Lieutenant Thornton; “it may be several days before we see the Onyx.”
“Neither am I,” said Julian; “so let us, as there is nothing in sight, cross this headland, and get a sight of the creek where the Vengeance lies.”
In half an hour they had gained a part of the coast that commanded a view of the creek and its mouth. It was a very singular inlet; extremely narrow at the mouth, and from the sea exceedingly difficult to be discovered, and dangerous to enter, on account of rocks crossing its mouth; for the tide being low, they could see that the rocks they were then looking at would be covered at high water. A quarter of a mile inside, the inlet opened into a fine pool of water, never entirely dry, in which they could see not only that the Vengeance lay afloat, but that there was a very handsome brig, a cutter, and half-a-dozen large lugger boats, fishing crafts, also afloat; part of the creek ran towards Coulancourt, which was perfectly dry at low water. The other branch led away to the eastward, and seemed to be the run of a large river.
Descending the hill, they made their way over the rocks till they gained a spot where they could obtain a near view of the celebrated privateer that caused Sir Sidney Smith two years ofmiserable imprisonment. From where they were concealed, they had a clear view, between the rocks, of the Vengeance, which appeared almost ready for sea, not having suffered in her hull so much by the fire as was supposed, for on running ashore, the ground swell rising in upon her flaming deck, immediately extinguished the fire. She was a remarkably handsome craft, very long, and with a graceful sheer and elongated bow; with masts much tauter than her previous ones, and her yards proportionably square, so that her lug-sails were greatly increased. Several men were employed setting up the rigging; the mizen-mast was yet unshipped. On the opposite side of the creek was a long wooden shed containing stores, and several other sheds, and a very long stone building showed that vessels were built and repaired there; for a large collection of spars and timber lay along the shore and in the water.
“I would rather cut that vessel out,” said Lieutenant Thornton, “than sink a French seventy-four. My gallant commander may linger years in a French prison owing to her, whilst I and Saunders nearly fell victims to her cut-throat commander.”
“Your only consolation is, William,” replied Julian, “that you are here to protect my mother and sister in escaping out of this country.”
The inspection was ended for that day. The two following they resumed their watch, and were equally unsuccessful; but, on the third morning, Julian was certain that a ship lying-to in the distance was the Onyx. They watched her for hours, but she remained almost stationary. Unfortunately, in returning home, Julian, descending the rough side of the cliff, sprained his ankle, which swelled so much after the walk, that he found it impossible to leave the house the next morning. Our hero, having seen the vessel lying-to off the land, was more anxious to go, and Monsieur Plessis having returned from Havre, stated that there was some popular commotion on foot in that town, and a large force of gendarmes had been called in from Rouen to aid the military there.
Taking Bill Saunders with him, our hero set out for Lyon Head, rather late in the morning. Mabel was uneasy at his going, and tried to persuade him to stay till the next day, when Julian would probably be able to accompany him.
“I am so anxious, dear Mabel,” he said, “to get you out of this country. No mortal possessed of a treasure, ever coveted its security as I do your safety. That troublesome Monsieur Gramont is absent, the people of Havre are in commotion—now is the time to get away. If that vessel Julian declares to be the corvette is really the Onyx, she may be close into-day, the weather is beautiful, and a nice breeze blowing off shore.”
So, tenderly pressing the hand that lay so lovingly in his, he departed, with Bill in great spirits, rejoicing at having a prospect of looking again at his favourite element, and of getting once more on board a British man-of-war, and regaining the full power of his tongue.