Illustration: 'She is walking along now.'
Illustration: 'She is walking along now.'
"She is walking along now," Ryan said joyously. "I had no idea that sailing was as jolly as it is."
They sped along all day and, before noon, had passed Bilbao. As the afternoon wore on the wind increased in force, and the clouds began to pass rapidly overhead, from the southeast.
"We had better get her in to the shore," Terence said. "Even with this scrap of sail, we keep on taking the water in on that lower side. I expect Santander lies beyond that point that runs out ahead of us, and we will land somewhere this side of it."
But as soon as they turned the boat's head towards the shore, and hauled in the sheet as tightly as they could, they found that, try as they would, they could not get her to lie her course.
"We sha'n't make the point at all," Terence said, half an hour after they had changed the course. "Besides, we have been nearly over, two or three times. I dare say fellows who understood a boat well could manage it but, if we hold on like this, we shall end by drowning ourselves. I think the best plan will be to lower the sail and mast, and row straight to shore."
"I quite agree with you," Ryan said. "Sailing is pleasant enough in a fair wind, but I cannot say I care for it, as it is now."
With some difficulty, for the sea was getting up, they lowered the sail and mast and, getting out the oars, turned her head straight for the shore. Both were accustomed to rowing in still water, but they found that this was very different work. After struggling at the oars for a couple of hours, they both agreed that they were a good deal farther away from the land than when they began.
"It is of no use, Dick," Terence said. "If we cannot make against the wind while we are fresh, we certainly cannot do so when we are tired; and my arms feel as if they would come out of their sockets."
"So do mine," Ryan said, with a groan. "I am aching all over, and both my hands are raw with this rough handle. What are we to do, then, Terence?"
"There is nothing to do that I can see, but to get her head round and run before the wind. It is a nuisance, but perhaps the gale won't last long and, when it is over, we can get up sail and make for the northwestern point of Spain. We have got provisions enough to last for a week.
"That is more comfortable," he added, as they got the boat in the required direction. "Now, you take the steering oar, Dick, and see that you keep her as straight as you can before the wind; while I set to and bale. She is nearly half full of water."
It took half an hour's work, with the little bowl they found in the boat, before she was completely cleared of water. The relief given to her was very apparent, for she rose much more lightly on the waves.
"We will sit down at the bottom of the boat, and take it by turns to hold the steering oar."
They had brought with them a lantern in which a lighted candle was kept burning, in order to be able to light their pipes. This was stowed away in a locker in the stern, with their store of biscuit and, after eating some of these, dividing a bottle of wine, and lighting their pipes, they felt comparatively comfortable. They were, of course, drenched to the skin and, as the wind was cold, they pulled the sail partly over them.
"She does not ship any water now, Terence. If she goes on like this, it will be all right."
"I expect it will be all right, Dick, though it is sure to be very much rougher than this when we get farther out. Still, I fancy an open boat will live through almost anything, providing she is light in the water. I don't suppose she would have much chance if she had a dozen men on board, but with only us two I think there is every hope that she will get through it.
"It would be a different thing if the wind was from the west, and we had the great waves coming in from the Atlantic, as we had in that heavy gale when we came out from Ireland. As it is, nothing but a big wave breaking right over her stern could damage us very seriously. There is not the least fear of her capsizing, with us lying in the bottom."
They did not attempt to keep alternate watches that night, only changing occasionally at the steering oar, the one not occupied dozing off occasionally. The boat required but little steering for, as both were lying in the stern, the tendency was to run straight before the wind. As the waves, however, became higher, she needed keeping straight when she was in a hollow between two seas. It seemed sometimes that the waves following behind the boat must break on to her, and swamp her but, as time after time she rose over them, their anxiety on this score lessened, and they grew more and more confident that she would go safely through it.
Occasionally the baler was used, to keep her clear of the water which came in in the shape of spray. At times they chatted cheerfully, for both were blessed with good spirits and the faculty of looking on the best side of things. They smoked their pipes in turns, getting fire from each other, so as to avoid the necessity of resorting to the lantern, which might very well blow out, in spite of the care they had at first exercised by getting under the sail with it when they wanted a light.
They were heartily glad when morning broke. The scene was a wild one. They seemed to be in the centre of a circle of mist, which closed in at a distance of half a mile or so, all round them. At times the rain fell, sweeping along with stinging force but, wet as they were, this mattered little to them.
"I would give something for a big glass of hot punch," Ryan said, as he munched a piece of biscuit.
"Yes, it would not be bad," Terence agreed; "but I would rather have a big bowl of hot coffee."
"I have changed my opinion of a seafaring life," Ryan said, after a pause. "It seemed delightful the morning we started, but it has its drawbacks; and to be at sea in an open boat, during a strong gale in the Bay of Biscay, is distinctly an unpleasant position."
"I fancy it is our own fault, Dicky. If we had known how to manage the boat, I have no doubt that we should have been able to get to shore. When the wind first began to freshen, we ought not to have waited so long as we did, before we made for shelter."
"Well, we shall know better next time, Terence. I think that, now that it is light, we had better get some sleep, by turns. Do you lie down for four hours, and then I will take a turn."
"All right! But be sure you wake me up, and mind you don't go to sleep; for if you did we might get broadside on to these waves, and I have no doubt they would roll us over and over. So mind, if before the four hours are up you feel you cannot keep your eyes open, wake me at once. Half an hour will do wonders for me, and I shall be perfectly ready to take the oar again."
Terence went off into a deep sleep as soon as he had pulled the sail over his head, but it seemed to him as if but a minute had elapsed when his companion began to stir him up with his foot.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I am awfully sorry to wake you," Ryan shouted, "but you have had two hours of it, and I really cannot keep my eyes open any longer. I have felt myself going off, two or three times."
"You don't mean to say that I have been asleep for two hours?"
"You have, and a few minutes over. I looked at my watch as you lay down."
"All right! Give me the oar. I say, it is blowing hard!"
"I should think it is. It seems to me it is getting up, rather than going down."
"Well, we are all right so far," Terence said cheerfully, for he was now wide awake again. "Besides, we are getting quite skilful mariners. You had better spend a few minutes at baling before you lie down, for the water is a good three inches over the boards."
All day the storm continued and, when darkness began to close in, it seemed to them that it was blowing harder than ever. Each had had two spells of sleep, and they agreed that they could now keep awake throughout the night. It was bad enough having no one to speak to all day, but at night they felt that companionship was absolutely needed. During the day they had lashed together the spars, sail, and the barrel of water--which was now nearly half empty--so that if the boat should be swamped, they could cling to this support.
It was a terrible night but, towards morning, both were of opinion that the gale was somewhat abating. About eight o'clock there were breaks in the clouds and, by noon, the sun was shining brightly. The wind was still blowing strong, but nothing to what it had been the evening before and, by nightfall, the sea was beginning to go down. The waves were as high as before, but were no longer broken and crested with heads of foam and, at ten o'clock, they felt that they could both safely lie down till morning.
The steering oar was lashed in its position, the sail spread over the whole of the stern of the boat, every drop of water was baled out and, lying down side by side, they were soon fast asleep. When they woke the sun was high, the wind had dropped to a gentle breeze, and the boat was rising and falling gently on the smooth rollers.
"Hurrah!" Ryan shouted, as he stood up and looked round. "It is all over. I vote, Terence, that we both strip and take a swim, then spread out our clothes to dry, after which we will breakfast comfortably and then get up sail."
"That is a very good programme, Dicky; we will carry it out, at once."
While they were eating their meal, Ryan asked:
"Where do you suppose we are, Terence?"
"Beyond the fact that we are right out in the Bay of Biscay, I have not the most remote idea. By the way the water went past us, I should say that we had been going at pretty nearly the same rate as we did when we were sailing; say, four miles an hour. We have been running for forty-eight hours, so that we must have got nearly two hundred miles from Santander. The question is: would it be best to make for England, now, or for Portugal? We have been going nearly northwest, so I should think that we are pretty nearly north of Finisterre, which may lie a hundred and twenty miles from us; and I suppose we are two or three times as much as that from England. The wind is pretty nearly due east again now, so we can point her head either way. We must be nearly in the ship course, and are likely to be picked up, long before we make land. Which do you vote for?"
"I vote for the nearest. We may get another storm, and one of them is quite enough. At any rate, Spain will be the shortest, by a great deal and, if we are picked up, it is just as likely to be by a French privateer as by an English vessel."
"I am quite of your opinion, and am anxious to be back again, as soon as I can. If we got to England and reported ourselves, we might be sent to the depot and not get out again, for months; so here goes for the south."
The sail was hoisted, and the boat sped merrily along. In a couple of hours their clothes were dry.
"I think we had better put ourselves on short rations," Terence said. "We may be farther off than we calculate upon and, at any rate, we had better hold on to the mouth of the Tagus, if we can; there are sure to be some British officials there, and we shall be able to get money, and rejoin our regiment without loss of time; while we might have all sort of trouble with the Spaniards, were we to land at Corunna or Vigo."
No sail appeared in sight during the day.
"I should think we cannot have come as far west as we calculated," Terence said, "or we ought to have seen vessels in the distance; however, we will keep due south. It will be better to strike the coast of Spain, and have to run along the shore round Cape Finisterre, than to risk missing land altogether."
That night they kept regular watches. The wind was very light now, and they were not going more than two knots an hour through the water. Ryan was steering when morning broke.
"Wake up, Terence!" he exclaimed suddenly, "here is a ship within a mile or so of us. As she is a lugger, I am afraid she is a French privateer."
Terence sprang to his feet. The light was still faint, but he felt sure that his companion was right, and that the vessel was a French privateer.
"We have put our foot in it now, and no mistake," Ryan said. "It is another French prison and, this time, without a friendly soldier to help us to get out."
"It looks like it, Dicky. In another hour it will be broad daylight, and they cannot help seeing us. Still, there is a hope for us. We must give out that we are Spanish fishermen, who have been blown off the coast. It is not likely they have anyone on board that speaks Spanish, and our Portuguese will sound all right in their ears; so very likely, after overhauling us, they will let us go on our way. At any rate, it is of no use trying to escape; we will hold on our course for another few minutes, and then head suddenly towards her, as if we had only just seen her. I will hail her in Portuguese, and they are sure to tell us to come on board; and then I will try to make them understand by signs, and by using a few French words, that we have been blown out to sea by the gale, and want to know the course for Santander. As the French have been there for some time, it would be natural enough for us to have picked up a little of their language."
In a few minutes they altered their course and sailed towards the lugger, which also soon turned towards them. When they approached within the vessel's length, Terence stood up, and shouted in Portuguese:
"What is the bearing of Santander?"
The reply was in French, "Come alongside!" given with a gesture of the arm explaining the words. They let the sail run down as they came alongside. Terence climbed up, by the channels, to the deck.
"Espagnol," he said to the captain, who was standing close to him as he jumped down on to the deck; "Espagnoles, Capitaine; Poisson, Santander; grand tempete," and he motioned with his arms to signify that they had been blown offshore at Santander. Then he pointed in several directions towards the south, and looked interrogatively.
"They are Spanish fishermen who have been blown off the coast," the captain said to another officer. "They have been lucky in living it out. Well, we are short of hands, having so many away in prizes; and the boat will be useful, in place of the one we had smashed up in the gale. Let a couple of men throw the nets and things overboard, and then run her up to the davits."
Then he said to Terence: "Prisoners! Go forward and make yourself useful;" and he pointed towards the forecastle.
Terence gave a yell of despair, threw his hat down on the deck and, in a volley of Portuguese, begged the captain to let them go. The latter, however, only waved his hand angrily; and two sailors, coming up, seized Terence by the arms and dragged him forward. Ryan was called upon deck, and also ordered forward. He too remonstrated, but was cut short by a threatening gesture from the captain.
For a time they preserved an appearance of deep dejection, Terence tugging his hair as if in utter despair, till Ryan whispered:
"For heaven's sake, Terence, don't go on like that, or I shall break out in a shout of laughter."
"It is monstrous, it is inhuman!" Terence exclaimed, in Portuguese. "Thus to seize harmless fishermen, who have so narrowly escaped drowning; the sea is less cruel than these men. They have taken our boat, too, our dear good boat. What will our mothers think, when we do not return? That we have been swallowed up by the sea. How they will watch for us, but in vain!"
Fortunately for the success of their story, the lugger hailed from a northern French port and, as not one on board understood either Spanish or Portuguese, they had no idea that the latter was the language in which the prisoners were speaking. After an hour of pretended despair, both rose from the deck on which they had been sitting and, on an order being given to trim the sails, went to the ropes and aided the privateersmen to haul at them and, before the end of the day, were doing duty as regular members of the crew.
"They are active young fellows," the captain said to his first mate, as he watched the supposed Spaniards making themselves useful. "It was lucky for them that they had a fair store of provisions and water in their boat. We are very short handed, and they will be useful. I would have let them go if it had not been for the boat but, as we have only one left that can swim, it was too lucky a find to give up."
The craft had been heading north when Ryan had first seen her, and she held that course all day. Terence gathered from the talk of the sailors that they were bound for Brest, to which port she belonged. The Frenchmen were congratulating themselves that their cruise was so nearly over, and that it had been so successful a one. From time to time a sailor was sent up into the cross trees, and scanned the horizon to the north and west. In the afternoon he reported that he could make out the upper sails of a large ship going south. The captain went up to look at her.
"I think she is an English ship of war," he said, when he descended to the deck, "but she is a long way off. With this light wind we could run away from her. She will not trouble herself about us. She would know well enough that she could not get within ten miles of us, before it got dark."
This turned out to be the case, for the lookout from time to time reported that the distant sail was keeping on her course, and the slight feeling of hope that had been felt by Terence and Ryan faded away. They were placed in the same watch, and were below when, as daylight broke, they heard sudden exclamations, tramping of feet overhead, and a moment later the watch was summoned on deck.
"I hope that they have had the same luck that we had, and have run into the arms of one of our cruisers," Terence whispered in Portuguese to Ryan, as they ran up on deck together.
As he reached the deck the boom of a cannon was heard, and at the same instant a ball passed through the mainsail. Half a mile away was a British sloop of war. She had evidently made out the lugger before the watch on board the latter had seen her. The captain was foaming with rage, and shouting orders which the crew hurried to execute. On the deck near the foremast lay the man who had been on the lookout, and who had been felled with a handspike by the captain when he ran out on deck, at the first alarm. Although at first flurried and alarmed, the crew speedily recovered themselves, and executed with promptitude the orders which were given.
There was a haze on the water, but a light wind was stirring, and the vessel was moving through the water at some three knots an hour. As soon as her course had been changed, so as to bring the wind forward of the beam, which was her best point of sailing, the men were sent to the guns; the first mate placing himself at a long eighteen pounder, which was mounted as a pivot gun aft, a similar weapon being in her bows. All this took but four or five minutes, and shot after shot from the sloop hummed overhead.
The firing now ceased, as the change of course of the lugger had placed the sloop dead astern of her; and the latter was unable, therefore, to fire even her bow chasers without yawing. It was now the turn of the lugger. The gun in the stern was carefully trained and, as it was fired, a patch of white splinters appeared in the sloop's bulwarks. A cheer broke from the French. The effect of the shot, which must have raked her from stem to stern, was at once evident. The sloop bore off the wind, until her whole broadside could be seen.
"Flat on your faces!" the captain shouted.
There was a roar of ten guns, and a storm of shot screamed overhead. Four of them passed through the sails. One ploughed up the deck, killing two sailors and injuring three others with the splinters. Two or three ropes of minor importance were cut, but no serious damage inflicted.
The crew, as they leapt to their feet, gave a cheer. They knew that, with this light wind, their lugger could run away from the heavier craft; and that the latter could only hope for success by crippling her.
"Steady with the helm!" the captain went on, as the pivot gun was again ready to deliver its fire. "Wait till her three masts show like one.
"Jacques, aim a little bit higher. See if you cannot knock away a spar."
The sloop was coming up again to the wind and, as she was nearly stem on, the gun cracked out again. A cheer broke from the lugger as her opponent's foretop mast fell over her side, with all its hamper. Round the sloop came, and delivered the other broadside. Two shots crashed through the bulwarks, one of them dismounting a gun which, in its fall, crushed a man who had thrown himself down beside it. Another shot struck the yard of the foresail, cutting it asunder; and the lugger at once ran up into the wind.
"Lower the foresail!" the captain shouted. "Quick, men! and lash a spare spar to the yard. They are busy cutting away their topmast, but we shall be off again before they are ready to move. They have lost nearly half a mile; we shall soon be out of range. Be sharp with that gun again!"
The sloop had indeed fallen greatly astern while delivering her broadsides; but her commander had evidently seen that, unless the wind sprang up, the lugger would get away from him unless he could cripple her; and that she might seriously damage him, and perhaps knock one of the masts out of him by her stern chaser. His only chance, therefore, of capturing her was to take a spar out of her. He did not attempt to come about again, after firing the second broadside; but kept up his fire as fast as his guns could be loaded.
The lugger, however, was stealing rapidly away from him and, in ten minutes, had increased her lead by another half mile, without having suffered any serious damage; and the sloop soon ceased fire, as she was now almost out of range. Seven or eight of the crew had been more or less injured by splinters but, with the exception of the three killed, none were badly hurt. The lugger was now put on her former course, the guns lashed into their places again, and the three men killed sewn up in hammocks and laid between two of the guns, in order to be handed to their friends on arrival in port.
"That is another slip between the cup and the lip," Terence remarked to his companion, as the sloop ceased firing. "I certainly thought, when we came on deck, that our troubles were over. I must say for our friend, the French captain, he showed himself a good sailor, and got out of the scrape uncommonly well."
"A good deal too well," Ryan grumbled; "it was very unpleasant while it lasted. It is all very well to be shot at by an enemy, but to be shot at by one's friends is more than one bargained for."
The coolness under fire displayed by the two Spaniards he had carried off pleased the captain, who patted them on the shoulder as he came along, his good temper being now completely restored by his escape.
"You are brave fellows," he said, "and will make good privateersmen. You cannot do better than stay with us. You will make as much money, in a month, as you would in a year's fishing."
Terence smiled vaguely, as if he understood that the captain was pleased with them, but did not otherwise catch his meaning. They arrived at Brest without further adventure. As they neared the port, the captain asked Terence if he and his companion would enter upon the books of the privateer and after much difficulty made, as he believed, Terence understand his question. The latter affected to consult Ryan, and then answered that they would be both willing to do so. The captain then put the names they gave him down on the ship's roll, and handed each of them a paper, certifying that Juan Montes and Sebastian Peral belonged to the crew of the Belle Jeanne, naming the rate of wages that they were to receive, and their share in the value of the prizes taken. He then gave them eighty francs each, as an advance on their pay from the date of their coming on board, and signified to them that they must buy clothes similar to those worn by the crew, instead of the heavy fishermen's garments they had on.
"They will soon learn our language," he said to the mate, "and I am sure they will make good sailors. I have put down their wages and share of prize money at half that of our own men, and I am sure they will be well worth it, when they get to speak the language and learn their duties."
As soon as they were alongside, the greater portion of the men went ashore and, in the evening, the boatswain landed with Terence and Ryan, and proceeded with them to a slop shop, where he bought them clothes similar to those worn by the crew. Beyond the fact that these were of nautical appearance, there was no distinctive dress. They then returned to the lugger and changed their clothes at once, the boatswain telling them to stow away their boots and other things, as these would be useful to them in bad weather.
The next day the privateer commenced to unload, for the most valuable portions of the cargoes of the captured ships had been taken on board when the vessels themselves, with the greater portion of the goods they carried, had been sent into port under the charge of prize crews. They remained on board for ten days, going freely into the town, sometimes with the sailors and sometimes alone. Terence pretended to make considerable progress in French, and was able, though with some difficulty, to make himself understood by the crew. The first mate had gone with them to the mairie, where the official stamp had been affixed to their ship papers.
They found that no questions were asked of persons entering or leaving the town, on the land side; and twice strolled out and went some distance into the country. They had agreed that it would be better to defer any attempt to escape until the day before the lugger sailed, as there would then be but little time for the captain to make inquiries after them, or to institute a search. They bought a pocket map of the north of France, and carefully studied the roads.
"It is plain enough what our best course is, Dick. We must go along this projecting point of Brittany through Dinan to Avranches, and then follow the coast up till we get to Coutances. You see it is nearly opposite Jersey, and that island does not look to be more than fifteen miles away so that, if we can get hold of a boat there, we should be able to run across in three hours or so, with favourable wind."
"That looks easy enough," Ryan agreed. "It seems to be about one hundred and twenty miles from here to Avranches, and another thirty or forty up to Coutances, so we should do it in a week, easily. What stories shall we make up, if we are questioned?"
"I don't suppose the peasants we may meet on the road are likely to question us at all, for most of the Bretons speak only their own language. We had better always sleep out in the open. If we do run across an official, we can show our papers and give out that we have been ill treated on board the lugger, and are going to Saint Malo, where we mean to ship on another privateer. I know that is a port from which lots of them sail. I don't think we shall have any difficulty in buying provisions at small villages. My French will pass muster very well in such places, and I can easily remark that we are on our way to Saint Malo to join a ship there and, if any village functionary questions us, these papers will be good enough for him.
"Or we can say that we got left ashore by accident, when our craft sailed from Brest, and are going to rejoin her at Saint Malo, where she was going to put in. I think, perhaps, that that would be a better story than that we had run away. I don't know that the authorities interest themselves in runaway seamen from privateers but, at any rate, it is a likely tale. Drunken seamen, no doubt, often do get left ashore."
"Yes, that would be a very good story, Terence, and I think that there would be no great fear, even if we were to go boldly into a town."
"I don't think there would; still, it is better to be on the safe side, and avoid all risks."
Accordingly, the afternoon before the Belle Jeanne was to sail they went ashore, bought enough bread and cold meat to last them for a couple of days; and two thick blankets, as it was now November and the nights were bitterly cold; and then left the town and followed the road for Dinan. On approaching the village of Landerneau they left the road, and lay down until it was quite dark. Then they made a detour through the fields, round the village, came down on the road again, walked all night--passing through Huelgoat--and then, as morning was breaking they left the road again and, after going a quarter of a mile through the fields, lay down in a dry ditch by the side of a thick hedge, ate a meal, and went to sleep.
They did not start again until it was getting dusk, when they returned to the road, which they followed all night. In the morning they went boldly into a little village, and Terence went into a shop and bought a couple of loaves. His French was quite good enough for so simple an operation.
"I suppose you are going to Saint Malo," the woman said.
"Yes. We have had a holiday to see some friends at Brest, and are going to rejoin."
This was the only question asked and, after walking another two miles, they lay up for the day as before. They had met several peasants on the road, and had exchanged salutations with them. They found by their map that they were now within twenty miles of Dinan, having made over thirty miles each night and, as both were somewhat footsore from their unaccustomed exercise, they travelled only some sixteen or seventeen miles the following night.
The next evening, at about ten o'clock, they walked boldly through Dinan. Most of the inhabitants were already asleep, and the few who were still in the streets paid no heed to two sailors; going, they had no doubt, to Saint Malo. Crossing the river Rance by the bridge, they took the road in the direction of the port but, after following it for a mile or two, struck off to the east and, before morning, arrived on the river running up from the bay of Mount Saint Michaels. They lay down until late in the afternoon, and then crossed the river at a ferry, and kept along by the coast until they reached the Sebine river.
"We are getting on first rate," Ryan said, as they lay down for a few hours' sleep. "We have only got Avranches to pass, now."
"I hope we sha'n't be questioned at all, Dick, for we have now no good story to tell them; for we are going away from Saint Malo, instead of to it. Of course, as long as they don't question us we are all right. We are simply two sailors on our way home for a time; but if we have to show our papers, with those Spanish names on them, we should be in a fix. Of course, we might have run away from our ship at Saint Malo, but that would not explain our coming up this way. However, I hope my French is good enough to answer any casual questions without exciting attention. We will cross by the ferry boat, as soon as it begins to ply and, as Avranches stands some little distance up the river, we can avoid it altogether by keeping along the coastline."
A score of peasants had assembled by the time the ferry boat man made his appearance from his cottage, and Terence and his companion, who had been lying down 200 yards away, joined them just as they were going down to the boat.
"You are from Saint Malo, I suppose?" an old peasant said to Terence.
The latter nodded.
"We have got a month's leave from our ship," he said. "She has been knocked about by an English cruiser, and will be in the shipwright's hands for five or six weeks, before she is ready for sea again."
"You are not from this part of the country," the peasant, who was speaking in the patois of Normandy, remarked.
"No, we come from the south; but one of our comrades comes from Cherbourg and, as he cannot get away, we are going to see his friends and tell them that he is well. It is a holiday for us, and we may as well go there as anywhere else."
The explanation was simple enough for the peasant, and Terence continued chatting with him until they landed.
"You do not need to go through Avranches," the latter said. "Take the road by the coast through Granville to Coutances."
"How far is it to Coutances?"
"About twenty miles. At least, so I have heard, for I have never been there."
After walking a few miles, they went down on to the seashore and lay down among some rocks until evening. At eight o'clock they started again and walked boldly through Granville, where their sailor's dress would, they felt sure, attract no attention. It was about nine o'clock when they entered the place. Their reason for doing so at this hour was that they wished to lay in a stock of provisions, as they did not intend to enter Coutances until late at night; when they hoped to be able to get hold of a boat, at once. They had just made their purchases when they met a fat little man, with a red sash--which showed him to be the Maire of the place, or some other public functionary.
"Where are you going, and what ship do you belong to?" he asked pompously.
"We are sailors on our way from Saint Malo to Cherbourg," Terence replied.
"You have papers, of course?"
"Of course, Monsieur le Maire."
"I must see them," the Maire said. "Come with me to my house, close by."
There were several persons near, and a man in civil uniform was with the Maire. Therefore Terence gave an apparently willing assent and, followed by the functionary, they went into a house close by. A lamp was burning on the table in the hall.
"Light these candles in my office," the Maire said. "The women have gone up to bed."
The man turned a key, went in and, bringing out two candles, lighted them at the lamp; and they then went into the room. The Maire seated himself in an armchair at the table. The minor functionary placed the two suspected persons on the side facing him, and took his place standing by their side.
As they were going in, Terence whispered:
"If there is trouble, I will take this fellow, and you manage the Maire."
"Now," that functionary said, "let me see your papers.
"Why," he exclaimed, looking at the names, "you are not Frenchmen!"
"No," Terence said quietly. "We do not pretend to be but, as you see, we are sailors who have done service on board a French privateer."
"But where is this privateer?"
"I don't know, Monsieur le Maire. We were not satisfied with our treatment, so we left her at Brest."
"This is very serious," the Maire said. "You are Spaniards. You have deserted your ship at Brest. You have travelled a hundred and fifty miles through France, and now what are you doing here?"
"We are, as you say, monsieur, travelling through France. We desire to see France. We have heard that it is the greatest country in the world. Frenchmen visit Spain in large numbers. Why should not Spaniards visit France?"
The tone of sarcasm in which Terence spoke was not lost upon the Maire, who rose from his seat, purple with anger.
"You will take these men into custody," he said to his assistant. "This is a very grave business."
"Now, Dick!" Terence exclaimed and, turning to the man who stood next to him, he grasped him suddenly by the throat.
At the same moment Ryan caught up a heavy inkstand and threw it across the table at the Maire, striking that functionary in the stomach, and doubling him completely up. Then he ran round the table and bound the man--who had not yet recovered his breath--tightly in his chair, and thrust his handkerchief into his mouth.
The man whom Terence was holding had scarcely struggled. Terence, as he gripped him, had said, "Keep quiet or I will choke you!" and the prisoner felt that his assailant could do so in a moment, if he chose.
His hands were fastened tightly behind him, with his own belt, by Ryan. A short ruler was thrust between his teeth, and fastened there by a handkerchief going round the back of his head.
"So far so good, Dick. Now look round for something with which we can bind them more firmly."
Several hanks of red tape lay upon the table. With a portion of one of these, the back of the chair in which the Maire sat was lashed to the handle of a heavy bureau. Then his feet were fastened to the two legs of the chair, so that he could neither kick nor upset himself. The other man was then fastened as securely. This done they blew out the candles, left the room, locked the door behind them--taking the key--and then sallied out into the street.
"That was a good shot of yours with the inkstand," Terence said.
"I had my eye on it, all the time he was speaking," Ryan replied. "I saw that, if I were to move to get round the table at him, the little man would have time to shout; but that if I could hit him in the wind, it would be all right."
"Well, there must be no more stopping, now. I don't know whether there is a Mrs. Maire; if not, there will certainly be no alarm until morning. If there is, it depends upon what sort of woman she is as to how long a start we shall get. If she is a sleepy woman she is probably dreaming by this time, and may not discover until morning that her lord and master is not by her side. If she is a bad-tempered woman, she will probably lie for an hour or two, thinking over what she shall say to him when he comes in. If she is a nervous woman, she will get up and go downstairs.
"I left the lamp burning in the hall on purpose. Seeing it there, she will naturally think that he has not come in, and will go upstairs again for an hour or two; then she will probably call up the servants, and may send them out to look for him; finally, she may go to the police office and wake up a constable. It is not probable there are any of them on night duty, in a quiet place like this. Altogether, I calculate that it will be at least four hours before they think of breaking open the door of the office, to see if he is there; so at the worst we have got four hours' start; at the best, ten hours.
"It is only half-past nine now. We shall be at the mouth of the Sienne in three hours, or less. It does not look above nine or ten miles on the map and, directly we get fairly out of the town, we will go as quickly as we can, for every minute is of importance.
"If we can get hold of a boat at once, we ought to be at Jersey soon after daybreak; although I am not very sure of that, for I believe there are all sorts of strong currents along this coast. I remember one of the officers saying so, as we came down the Channel on the voyage out. Of course, it will make a difference whether we can get a boat with a sail, or not. If we cannot find a boat, we shall have to hide up; but you may be sure that there will be a hot search for us in the morning, and we must get off tonight, if we can. Most likely there is a fishing village somewhere near the mouth of the river."
As soon as they were out of the town they broke into a trot; which they continued, with scarcely any intermission, until they approached a small village.
"I expect this stands on the bank of the river," Terence said. "There is no chance of anyone being up, so we can go through fearlessly."
A couple of hundred yards farther they reached the river. A large ferry boat was moored here. Keeping along the bank to the left, they were not long before they came upon several boats hauled up on the shore; while three or four others lay at their moorings, a short distance out.
"Thank goodness," Terence exclaimed. "We shall have no difficulty, now!"
They selected the boat lying nearest the water's edge. The moon was half full, but was now sinking towards the west. Its light, however, was of some assistance to them. There was a mast and sail in the boat, as well as a pair of oars.
At first they were unable to move her down to the water but, getting some oars out of the other boats, they laid them down as rollers and, with these, managed after great exertions to get her afloat.
After pushing the boat out into the stream, Terence and his companion allowed it to drift quietly for some distance; and then, getting out the oars, rowed hard until they were beyond the mouth of the river. The tide was, they thought, by the level of the water where they had embarked, within an hour or two of flood. They therefore determined to shape their course to the north of the point where they believed Jersey to lie, so that when tide turned, it would sweep them down upon it. The wind was too light to be of any assistance, but the stars were bright, and the position of the north star served as a guide to the direction they should take.
It had taken them some considerable time to launch the boat, and they calculated that it was nearly midnight when they left the mouth of the river. There was no occasion to row hard for, until it became daylight and they could see the island of Jersey, they could not shape their course with any certainty; and could only hope that by keeping to the north of it they would not find, in the morning, that the tide had taken them too far to the south.
"We are very lucky in our weather," Terence said as, after labouring at the heavy oars for a couple of hours, they paused for a few minutes' rest. "If it had been a strong wind, it would never have done for us to have started. I believe in bad weather there are tremendous currents about the islands, and desperately rough water. A fog would have been even worse for us. As it is, it seems to me we cannot go very far wrong. I suppose the tide is about turning now; but if by daylight we find that we have been carried a long way past the island, we shall soon have the tide turning again, which will take us back to it.
"I am more afraid of falling in with a French privateer than I am of missing the island. There are sure to be some of them at Granville, to say nothing of Saint Malo. I don't suppose any of those at Granville will put out in search of us, merely to please the Maire; but if any were going to sea, they would be sure to keep a lookout for us."
"If they did see us, we should have no chance of getting away, Terence. This boat is not so big as the one we stole at Bayonne, but it rows much heavier."
"There is one thing--even a privateer could not sail very fast in this light wind and, if it freshens in the morning, we can get up the sail."
"Then I hope it will get up a bit," Ryan said, "for after another five or six hours' rowing, with these beastly oars, my hands will be raw; and I am sure my back and arms will be nearly broken."
"We must risk that, Dick. We calculated fifteen miles in a straight line across to Jersey, so that we must jog along at the rate of a couple of miles an hour to get far enough to the west. Now then, let us be moving again."
The night seemed interminable to them; and they felt relieved, indeed, when morning began to break. In another half hour it would be light enough for them to see for a considerable distance. Unshipping their oars, they stood up and looked round.
"That must be Jersey," Terence exclaimed, pointing to the north. "The current must have taken us past it, as I was afraid it would. What time is it, Dick?"
"Nearly eight."
"Then tide must be turning already. The island must be six miles away now. If we row hard we shall know, in half an hour, whether we are being carried north or south."
"But we must be going north if tide has turned, Terence?"
"I don't know--I remember that the mate of the Sea Horse said that, in the Channel, the course of the current did not change at high and low water; so there is no saying what way we are going, at present. Well, there is a little more wind, and I suppose we had better get up our sail. There is Jersey, and whether we get there a little sooner or a little later cannot make much difference. I am sure we are both too tired to row her much faster than we can sail."
Terence agreed, and they accordingly stepped the mast and hoisted the sail. At first the boat moved but slowly through the water, but the wind was freshening and, in half an hour, she was foaming along.
"Tide is against us, still," Terence said presently. "I don't think we are any nearer Jersey that when we first saw it."
"Look there!" Ryan exclaimed, a few minutes later, "there is a lugger coming out from the direction of Granville."
"So there is, Dick, and with the wind behind her, she won't be very long before she is here. I should say that she is about six or seven miles off, and an hour will bring her up to us."
"I will get out an oar, Terence. That will help us a bit. We can change about, occasionally."
Terence was steering with the other oar, while he held the sheet. The boat was travelling at a good rate, but the lugger was fast running down towards them.
"There is a schooner coming out from Jersey!" Terence exclaimed, joyously. "If she is a British privateer we may be saved yet. I had just made up my mind that we were in for another French prison."
Ryan looked over his shoulder.
"She is farther off than the lugger," he said.
"Yes, but the current that is keeping us back is helping her on towards us. It will be a close thing; but I agree with you, I am afraid that the lugger will be here first.
"Change seats with me. I will have a spell at the oar."
He was a good deal stronger than Ryan, and he felt comparatively fresh after his hour's rest, so there was a perceptible increase in the boat's speed after the change had been effected. When the lugger was within a mile of them, and the schooner about double that distance, the former changed her course a little, and bore up as if to meet the schooner.
"Hurrah!" Ryan shouted. "The Frenchman is making for the schooner and, if the Jersey boat don't turn and run, there will be a fight."
"The lugger looks to me the bigger boat," Terence said, as he stopped rowing for a moment. "However, we are likely to be able to slip off while they are at it."
Rapidly the two vessels approached each other and, when within a mile, a puff of smoke broke out from the lugger's bow; and was answered almost instantly by one from the schooner. Running fast through the water, the vessels were soon within a short distance of each other. Terence had ceased rowing, for there was no fear that the lugger, which was now abeam of them, would give another thought to the small boat.
The fight was going on in earnest, and the two vessels poured broadsides into each other as they passed; the lugger wearing round at once, and engaging the schooner broadside to broadside.
"The Frenchman has the heavier metal," Terence said. "I am afraid the schooner will get the worst of it. The lugger is crowded with men, too. What do you say, Dick? Shall we do our best to help the schooner?"
"I think we ought to," Ryan agreed, at once. "She has certainly saved us, and I think we ought to do what we can."
Accordingly he brought the boat nearer to the wind. The two vessels were now close-hauled, and were moving but slowly through the water. The boat passed two or three hundred yards astern of the lugger, sailed a little farther; and then, when able to lay her course for the schooner, went about and bore down towards her. Just as they did so, the halliards of the schooner's mainsail were shot asunder, and the sail ran down the mast. There was a shout of triumph from the lugger, and she at once closed in towards her crippled adversary.
"They are going to try and carry the schooner by boarding," Terence exclaimed. "Keep her as close as she will go, Dick," and, seizing his oar again, he began to row with all his might.
By the time they came up, the two vessels were side by side. The guns had ceased their fire, but there was a rattle of pistol shots, mingled with the clash of arms and the shouts of the combatants. Running up to the schooner's side, Terence and Ryan clambered on the channel and sprung on to the deck of the schooner.
A desperate fight was going on forward, where the two vessels touched each other. There was no one aft. Here some fifteen or twenty feet of water separated the ships, and even the helmsmen had left the wheel to join in the fight. About half of the lugger's crew had made their way on to the deck of the schooner, but the Jersey men were still fighting stoutly. The rest of the lugger's crew were gathered in the bow of their own vessel, waiting until there should be a clear enough space left for them to join their comrades.
"Things look bad," Terence exclaimed. "The French crew are a great deal stronger. Lend me a hand to turn two of these eight-pounders round. There are plenty of cartridges handy."
They drew the cannon back from their places, turned them round, loaded them with a charge of powder, and then rammed in two of the bags of bullets that were lying beside them. The schooner stood higher out of the water than the lugger, and they were able to train the two cannon so that they bore upon the mass of Frenchmen in the latter's bow.
"Take steady aim," Terence said. "We are only just in time; our fellows are being beaten back."
A moment later the two pieces were fired. Their discharge took terrible effect among the French, sweeping away more than half of those gathered in the lugger's bow.
"Load again!" Terence exclaimed. "They are too strong for the Jersey men, still."
For a moment the French boarders had paused; but now, with a shout of fury, they fell upon the crew of the schooner, driving them back foot by foot towards the stern. The cannon were now trained directly forward and, when the crowd of fighting men approached them, Terence shouted in French to the Jersey men to fall back on either side.
The captain, turning round and seeing the guns pointing forward, repeated the order in a stentorian shout. The Jersey men leapt to one side or the other, and the moment they were clear the two cannon poured their contents into the midst of the French; who had paused for a moment, surprised at the sudden cessation of resistance.
Two clear lanes were swept through the crowd; and then, with a shout, the captain of the schooner and his crew fell upon the Frenchmen. Ryan was about to rush forward, when Terence said:
"No, no, Ryan, load again; better make sure."
The heavy loss they had suffered, however, so discouraged the French that many at once turned and, running back, jumped on to the deck of the lugger; while the others, though still resisting, were driven after them.
As soon as the guns were reloaded they were trained, as before, to bear on the lugger's bow and, as the French were driven back, they were again fired. This completed the discomfiture of the enemy and, with loud shouts, the Jersey men followed them on to the deck of their own ship.
Terence and Ryan now ran forward, snatched up a couple of cutlasses, and joined their friends; and were soon fighting in the front line. But the French resistance was now almost over. Their captain had fallen and, in five minutes, the last of them threw down their arms and surrendered; while a great shout went up from the crew of the schooner. The French flag was hauled down and, as soon as the prisoners had been sent below, an ensign was brought from the schooner, fixed to the flag halliards above the tricolor, and the two hoisted together.
The captain had already turned to the two men who had come so opportunely to his assistance.
"I do not know who you are, or where you come from, men, but you have certainly saved us from capture. I did not know it was the Annette until it was too late to draw off, or I should not have engaged her; for she is the strongest lugger that sails out of Granville, and carries double our weight of metal, with twice as strong a crew; but whoever you are, I thank you most heartily. I am half owner of the schooner, and should have lost all I was worth, to say nothing of perhaps having to pass the next five years in a French prison."
"We are two British officers," Terence said. "We have escaped from a French prison, and were making our way to Jersey when we saw that lugger coming after us, and should certainly have been captured had you not come up; so we thought the least we could do was to lend you a hand."
"Well, gentlemen, you have certainly saved us. Jacques Bontemps, the captain of the Annette, was an old acquaintance of mine. He commanded a smaller craft before he got the Annette, and we have had two or three fights together.
"So it was you whom I saw in that little boat! Of course, we made out that the lugger was chasing you, though why they should be doing so we could not tell; but we thought no more about you after the fight once began, and were as astonished as the Frenchmen when you swept their bow. I just glanced round and saw what looked like two French fishermen, and thought that you must be two of the lugger's crew who, for some reason or other, had turned the guns against their own ship.
"It will be a triumph, indeed, for us when we enter Saint Helier. The Annette has been the terror of our privateers. Fortunately she was generally away cruising, and many a prize has she taken into Granville. I have had the luck to recapture two of them, myself; but when she is known to be at home we most of us keep in port, for she is a good deal more than a match for any craft that sails out from Saint Helier.
"She only went into Granville yesterday, and I thought that there was no fear of her being out again, for a week or so. When I saw her, I took her for a smaller lugger that sails from that port, and which is no more than a match for us. The fact is, we were looking at her chasing you, and wondering if we should be in time, instead of noticing her size. It was not until she fired that first broadside that we found we had caught a tartar. We should have run, if there had been a chance of getting away; but she is a wonderfully fast boat, and we knew that our only chance was to knock away one of her masts.
"And now, we will be making sail again. You must excuse me for a few minutes."
In half an hour the main halliards had been repaired, and the sail hoisted. When other damages were made good the captain, with half his crew, went on board the lugger; and the two vessels sailed together for Jersey. Terence and his companion had accompanied the captain.
"Now, gentlemen, you may as well come down with me into the cabin. It is likely enough that you will be able to find some clothes, in Bontemps' chest, that will fit you. He was a dandy, in his way. At any rate, his clothes will suit you better than those you have on."
They found, indeed, that the lugger's captain had so large a store of clothing that they had no difficulty, whatever, in rigging themselves out. While they were changing, the captain had left them. He returned, presently, with a beaming face.
"She is a more valuable prize than I hoped for," he said. "She is full almost to the hatches with the plunder she had taken in her last cruise. I cannot make out what led her to come out of Granville, unless it was in pursuit of you."
"I expect it was that," Terence said. "We were arrested by the Maire of Granville, and had to tie him and one of his officials up. He was a pompous little man; and no doubt, when he got free, went down to the port and persuaded the captain of the lugger to put out, at once, to endeavour to find us. I expect he told him that we were prisoners of importance, either English spies or French emigres.
"Well, Captain, I am glad that the capture has turned out well for you."
"You certainly ought to share it," the captain said; "for if it had not been for you, matters would have gone all the other way, and we should have undoubtedly been captured."
"Oh, we don't want to share it! We have helped you to avoid a French prison, but you have certainly saved us from the same thing, so we are fairly quits."
"Well, we shall have time to talk about that when we get into port. In the meantime we will search Jacques' lockers. Like enough there may be something worth having there. Of course, he may have taken it ashore, directly he landed; but it is hardly likely and, as he has evidently captured several British merchantmen while he has been out, he is sure to have some gold and valuables in the lockers."
The search, indeed, brought to light four bags of money, each marked with the name of an English ship. They contained, in all, over 800 pounds; with several gold watches, rings, and other valuables.
"Now, gentlemen," the captain said, "at least you will divide this money with me. The Annette and the cargo below hatches are certainly worth ten times as much, and I must insist upon your going shares with me. I shall feel very hurt if you will not do so."
"I thank you, Captain," Terence said, "and will not refuse your offer. We shall have to provide ourselves with new uniforms, and take a passage out to Portugal, which is where our regiments are, at present; so the money will be very useful."
"And I see you have not a watch, monsieur. You had better take one of these."
"Thanks! I parted with mine to a good woman, who helped me to escape from Bayonne; so I will accept that offer, also."
In two hours the schooner entered the port of Saint Helier; the lugger, under easy sail, following in her wake. They were greeted with enthusiastic cheers by the crowd that gathered on the quays, as soon as it was seen that the prize was the dreaded Annette--which had, for some months past, been a terror to the privateers and fishermen of the place--and that she should have been captured by the Cerf seemed marvellous, indeed.
A British officer was on the quay when they got alongside. He came on board at once.
"The governor has sent me to congratulate you, in his name, Captain Teniers," he said, "on having captured a vessel double your own size, which has for some time been the terror of these waters. He will be glad if you will give me some particulars of the action; and you will, when you can spare time afterwards, go up and give him a full report of it."
"I owe the capture entirely to these two gentlemen, who are officers in your army. They had escaped from a French prison, and were making for this port when I first saw them this morning, with the Annette in hot chase after them. It did not strike me that it was her, for it was only last night that the news came in that she had been seen, yesterday, sailing towards Granville; and I thought that she was the Lionne, which is a boat our own size. I came up before she had overhauled the boat and, directly the fight began, I could see the mistake I had made. But as she was a good deal faster than we were, it was of no use running. There was just a chance that I might cripple her, and get away."
He then related the incidents of the fight.
"Well, I congratulate you, gentlemen," the officer said, heartily. "You have indeed done a good turn to Captain Teniers. To whom have I the pleasure of speaking?"
"My name is O'Connor," replied Terence. "I have the honour to be on Sir Arthur Wellesley's staff; and have the rank of captain in our army, but am a colonel in the Portuguese service. This is Lieutenant Ryan, of His Majesty's Mayo Fusiliers."
The officer looked a little doubtful, while Terence was speaking. It was difficult to believe that the young fellow, of one or two and twenty, at the outside, could be a captain on Lord Wellington's staff--for Sir Arthur had been raised to the peerage, after the battle of Talavera--still less that he should be a colonel in the Portuguese service. However, he bowed gravely, and said:
"My name is Major Chalmers, of the 35th. I am adjutant to the governor. If it will not be inconvenient, I shall be glad if you will return with me, and report yourselves to him."
"We are quite ready," Terence said. "We have nothing to do in the way of packing up, for we have only the clothes we stand in; which were, indeed, the property of the captain of the lugger, who was killed in the action."
Telling Captain Teniers that they would be coming down again, when they had seen the governor, the two friends accompanied the officer. Very few words were said on the way, for the major entertained strong doubts whether Terence had not been hoaxing him, and whether the account he had given of himself was not altogether fictitious. On arriving at the governor's he left them for a few minutes in the anteroom; while he went in and gave the account he had received, from the captain, of the manner in which the lugger had been captured; and said that the two gentlemen who had played so important a part in the matter were, as they said, one of them an officer on the staff of Lord Wellington and a colonel in the Portuguese army, and the other a subaltern in the Mayo Fusiliers.
"Why do you say, as they said, major? Have you any doubt about it?"
"My only reason for doubting is that they are both young fellows of about twenty, which would accord well enough with the claim of one of them to be a lieutenant; but that the other should be a captain on Lord Wellington's staff, and a colonel in the Portuguese service, is quite incredible."
"It would seem so, certainly, major. However, it is evident that they have both behaved extraordinarily well in this fight with the Annette, and I cannot imagine that, whatever story a young fellow might tell to civilians, he would venture to assume a military title to which he had no claim, on arrival at a military station. Will you please ask them to come in? At any rate, their story will be worth hearing."
"Good day, gentlemen," he went on, as Terence and Ryan entered. "I have to congratulate you, very heartily, upon the very efficient manner in which you assisted in the capture of the French privateer that has, for some time, been doing great damage among the islands. She has been much more than a match for any of our privateers here and, although she has been chased several times by the cruisers, she has always managed to get away.
"And now, may I ask how you happened to be approaching the island, in a small boat, at the time that the encounter took place?"
"Certainly, sir. We were both prisoners at Bayonne. I myself had been captured by the French, when endeavouring to cross the frontier into Portugal with my regiment; while Lieutenant Ryan was wounded at Talavera, and was in the hospital there when the Spaniards left the town, and the French marched in."
"What is your regiment, Colonel O'Connor?"
"It is called the Minho regiment, sir, and consists of two battalions. We have had the honour of being mentioned in general orders more than once; and were so on the day after the first attack of Victor upon Donkin's brigade, stationed on the hill forming the left of the British position at Talavera."
The governor looked at his adjutant who, rising, went to a table on which were a pile of official gazettes. Picking out one, he handed it to the governor, who glanced through it.
"Here is the general order of the day," he said, "and assuredly Lord Wellington speaks, in the very highest terms, of the service that Colonel O'Connor and the Minho regiment, under his command, rendered. Certainly very high praise, indeed.
"You will understand, sir, that we are obliged to be cautious here; and it seemed so strange that so young an officer should have attained the rank of colonel, that I was curious to know how it could have occurred."
"I am by no means surprised that it should seem strange, to you, that I should hold the rank I claim. I was, like my friend Lieutenant Ryan, in the Mayo Fusiliers; when I had the good fortune to be mentioned, in despatches, in connection with an affair in which the transport that took us out to Portugal was engaged with two French privateers. In consequence of the mention, General Fane appointed me one of his aides-de-camp; and I acted in that capacity during the campaign that ended at Corunna. I was left on the field, insensible, on the night after that battle.
"When I came to myself, the army was embarking; so I made my way through Galicia into Portugal and, on reaching Lisbon, was appointed by Sir John Craddock to his staff; and was sent by him on a mission to the northern frontier of Portugal.
"On the way I took the command of a body of freshly-raised Portuguese levies, who were without an officer or leader of any kind. With the aid of a small escort with me, I formed them into a reliable regiment, and had the good fortune to do some service with them. I was therefore confirmed in my command, and was given Portuguese rank. Sir Arthur Wellesley, on succeeding Sir John Craddock in the supreme command, still kept my name on the headquarter staff, thereby adding greatly to my authority; and continued me in the independent command of my regiment.
"After Talavera we were despatched to aid the Spaniards in holding the pass of Banos but, before we arrived there, Soult had crossed the pass and, being cut off by his force from rejoining the army, I determined to cross the mountains into Portugal. In so doing we came upon a French division, on its march to Plasencia, and the company of my regiment with which I was were cut off, and taken prisoners."
"Forgive me for having doubted you, Colonel O'Connor. I should, of course, have remembered your name. In his report of his operations, before and subsequent to the battle of Talavera, Lord Wellington mentions, more than once, that his left during his advance was covered by the partisan corps of Wilson and O'Connor; and mentions, too, that it was by messengers from Colonel O'Connor that he first learned how formidable a force was in his rear, and was therefore able to cross the Tagus and escape from his perilous position. Of course, it never entered my mind that the officer who had rendered such valuable service was so young a man.
"There is only one mystery left. How was it, when you and Mr. Ryan escaped from Bayonne, that you are found in a boat in the Bay of Saint Malo?"
"It does seem rather a roundabout way of rejoining," Terence said, with a smile. "We escaped in a boat and made along the north coast of Spain but, when off Santander, were blown out to sea in a gale, and were picked up by a French privateer. We were supposed to be two Spanish fishermen and, as the privateer was short of boats, they took ours and enrolled us among their crew. They were on their way to Brest, and we took an opportunity to desert, and made our way on foot until we reached the mouth of the river Sienne; and made off in a boat, last night. This morning we saw the privateer in chase of us, and should certainly have been recaptured had not the Cerf come up and engaged her. While the fight was going on we had gone on board the schooner, unperceived by either party, and took what seemed to us the best way of aiding our friends; who were getting somewhat the worst of it, the crew of the lugger being very much stronger than the crew of the schooner."
"Well, I hope that you will both, at once, take up your quarters with me as long as you stay here; and I shall then have an opportunity of hearing of your adventures more in detail."
"Thank you very much, sir. We shall be very happy to accept your kind invitation; but I hope we shall not trespass upon your hospitality long, for we are anxious to be off, as soon as possible, so as to rejoin without loss of time. I am particularly so for, although it will be two or three months before there is any movement of the troops, I am afraid of finding someone else appointed to the command of my regiment; and I have been so long with it, now, that I should be sorry indeed to be put to any other work."
"That I can quite understand. Well, there is no regular communication from here, but there is not a week passes without some craft or other sailing from here to Weymouth."
"We would rather, if possible, be put on board some ship on her way to Portugal," Terence said. "If we landed in England, we should have to report ourselves, and might be sent to a depot, and be months before we got out there again. I spoke to the captain of the Cerf about it, this morning; and he was good enough to promise that, as soon as he had repaired damages, he would run out into the Bay, and put us on board the first ship he overhauled bound for the Peninsula."
"That would be an excellent plan, from your point of view," the governor said. "Teniers is one of the best sailors on the island, and has several times carried despatches for me to Weymouth. You could not be in better hands."
Four days later the schooner was ready to sail again.
"This will be my last voyage in her," the captain said. "I have had an offer for her, and shall sell her as soon as I come back again, as I shall take the command of the Annette. I ought to do well in her, for her rig and build are so evidently French that I shall be able to creep up close to any French vessel making along the coast, or returning from abroad, without being suspected of being an enemy. Of course, I shall have to carry a much stronger crew than at present; and I hope to clip the wings of some of these French privateers, before long."
They had, on the day of their landing, ordered new uniforms, and had purchased a stock of underclothing. They were fortunate in being able to pick up swords and belts, and all were now ready for them and, on the fifth day after landing, they said goodbye to the governor, and sailed on board the Cerf.
When twenty-four hours out the vessel lay to, being now on the track of ships bound south. On the following day they overhauled six vessels and, as the last of these was bound with military stores for Lisbon, Terence and Ryan were transferred to her. With a hearty adieu to the skipper, they took their places in the boat and were rowed to the vessel; being greeted, on their departure, by a loud and hearty cheer from the crew of the privateer. There were no passengers on board the store ship, and they had an uneventful voyage, until she dropped anchor in the Tagus.
After paying the captain the small sum he charged for their passage, they landed. They first went to a hotel and put up. On sallying out, Ryan had no difficulty in learning that the Mayo Fusiliers were at Portalegre.