Chapter Ten.

Chapter Ten.An important Mission.Once fairly at sea and out of reach of the enemy’s shot, we had time to take a look at ourselves and realise the extent of our damages. When passing over the same ground a few hours before, the “Juno” presented as pretty a picture as a nautical connoisseur could wish to see, with her hull recently painted, every spar in its place, and adjusted there to a nicety, her rigging in perfect order, and her white sails—the new look just worn off them, and barely stretched into their proper shape—without a blemish or fault to mar their perfect appearance.Now, she passed out to sea with her fore and main-topgallant-masts and mizen-topmast hanging over the side, the fore-topsail-yard down on the cap, the spankerboom shot away in the jaws, the flying-jib-stay and halliards cut through and the sail towing alongside, her canvas riddled with shot-holes, ends and bights of ropes streaming out in the wind everywhere aloft, and two 36-pound shot in her side. Luckily, however, our casualties ended here; for, notwithstanding the hailstorm of shot through which we had passed, not a man on board was hurt.We were busy the remainder of that night, and a good part of the following day, making good the damages sustained. By evening, however, we were all ataunto once more; and as soon as the work was finished, Captain Hood mustered the hands and made them a speech, thanking them, both officers and men, for the courage and determination with which all had co-operated with him in effecting the escape of the ship from an enemy’s port, wherein she actually lay aground surrounded by armed ships, and with numerous heavily armed batteries opposing our departure. Percival was specially referred to, his skill in piloting the ship in and out again being dwelt upon in highly commendatory terms; and then—the skipper being a rare hand at turning out a neat speech and rounding it off with a compliment—the men were told that, having behaved so exceptionally well, their officers would now have no hesitation about engaging in any enterprise, however hazardous or hopeless it might appear, confident that the men they led would support them as long as they had strength to stand.At the close of this speech the men, as in duty bound, gave three cheers, the hammocks were piped down, and life on board the “Juno” resumed once more its normal conditions.The first question which suggested itself to the skipper, after getting his ship once more into fighting order, naturally was what was to be done with the supernumeraries which we had on board. His instructions, it appeared, made no provision whatever for the possibility of such acontretempsas had befallen us, and he was, in consequence, quite at a loss what to do. Finally, after talking the affair over with Mr Annesley, he resolved to take them back to Malta, and a course was accordingly shaped for that island. We accomplished the passage in five days, and landed the men, who were glad enough to plant their feet on mother earth once more, after knocking about in their confined quarters for nearly a fortnight.During our absence, information of the evacuation of Toulon by Lord Hood had reached the island, and it was taken quite for granted that, going to the place in ignorance of this important fact, as we were, we should inevitably fall into some trap and be made prisoners; when therefore we put in an appearance once more, and the details of our escape were made known, we immediately became the object of unbounded curiosity and admiration. Hundreds flocked to see the ship (many of them being intensely disappointed at the almost entire absence of visible indications of the peril through which she had passed), and officers and men alike were pointed out and looked after in the streets, until we ran the greatest risk of becoming inordinately vain of our exploit. The admiration of the islanders did not end here, however; for it being deemed advisable to place the frigate in dry dock to examine her bottom and smooth her copper, after having touched the ground, as well as to make good a few defects which were beyond our own unaided powers, we were balled,fêted, picnicked, and generally made much of for three days by the excitable and pleasure-loving inhabitants, at the end of which time, our repairs being completed, we were hurried away to sea with sealed orders, to be opened off Cape Spartivento.We arrived off this headland on the 22nd of January, and Captain Hood then learned that we were to remain on the spot until the evening of the 24th, when, if no farther instructions reached him, he was to open a sealed paper which he found enclosed with his orders. The ship was accordingly hove-to and placed under reefed topsails, a private signal was hoisted at the main-royal-mast-head, and in order that the time might not be absolutely wasted, the crew were put through a special course of drill.A sharp lookout was maintained, in order that there might be no possibility of our being passed unobserved by any craft bearing later instructions; but though we saw plenty of feluccas passing along the coast, the only craft which came at all near us was a magnificent 40-gun frigate, which hoisted French colours and bore down towards us on our showing our ensign; but having approached within four miles and lying hove-to for half an hour, she resumed her original course to the northward, leaving us in a most unchristian frame of mind towards the admiral, whose orders tied us to the spot, and prevented our accepting the challenge she had given. We at first cherished the hope that if we did not go out to her, she would come down and attack us, but such a slice of good luck was not just then to fall to our lot.The stipulated period of our stay off Cape Spartivento having at length expired, Captain Hood broke open the packet to which reference has already been made, and having acquainted himself with the farther instructions therein contained, orders were forthwith issued to make sail to the northward and westward.We had a fine breeze from the eastward, to which we showed a heavy press of canvas; the frigate accordingly made short miles of the trip along the Sardinian coast, and on the following evening arrived off the Gulf of Ajaccio in Corsica, the coast-line being about twenty miles distant, and consequently “hull-down;” the mountain-chain, however, which forms as it were the backbone of Corsica, was distinctly visible, lighted up as it was by the gorgeous tints of sunset. Sail was now shortened to topsails, and the frigate hove-to.While all hands were wondering more or less what the next move would be, I was sent for by the skipper to go to him in his cabin. On arriving there, I found him and Mr Annesley seated at the cabin-table with a decanter of port standing between them, glasses of the same at their elbows, and a large map spread out in the full light of the cabin lamp, which had just been lighted; the table being further littered with a large number of official-looking documents.As I entered the cabin, Captain Hood raised his eyes from the map, over which both officers had been earnestly poring, and said,—“Oh! come in, Mr Chester, and bwing yourself to an anchor. Atkins! a wine-glass for Mr Chester. There, help yourself, young gentleman.”I poured out a glass of the port, wondering, as I sipped it, wherever the skipper managed to pick up so very excellent a wine; and when the steward had retired, closing the door after him, Captain Hood looked across the table at me, and said,—“Mr Chester, I have been gweatly gwatified at the continued good weports which Mr Annesley makes of your conduct. He speaks vewy highly of your intelligence, persevewance, zeal, and couwage, and I—ah—may say that—er—I have myself noted fwom time to time your possession of those—ah—desiwable chawactewistics. Partly on this account, and partly because of your—ah—intimate knowledge of the Fwench language, I have selected you for the performance of a service in which all the qualities I have mentioned are—er—conspicuously necessawy. You will understand this more clearly when I explain that the service consists in the safe conveyance of certain vewy important documents to the hands of a Corsican gentleman on shore yonder, in the face of unknown but possibly sewious difficulties from the numewous Fwench twoops occupying the island, and into whose hands the documents in question must by no means be allowed to fall. I should hesitate vewy stwongly about intwusting one so young with a mission so delicate but for Mr Annesley’s positive assuwance that I may safely do so. Now, what say you? are you willing to undertake the service?”To say that Ijumpedat the offer would but feebly express the eagerness with which I answered in the affirmative. Here was one of those chances for distinguishing myself for which I had so ardently longed, and here too was the prospect of at least temporary freedom from the restraints of discipline and the monotony of shipboard, to say nothing of the possibilities of excitement and adventure involved in the performance of a secret service in the enemy’s country. It was with the utmost difficulty I controlled my excitement sufficiently to listen to the skipper’s instructions, and to absorb and master the information necessary to the successful conduct of the enterprise.The map spread upon the table was a map of Corsica drawn to a large scale, and showing every road, stream, mountain-path, wood, chateau—indeed I might almost sayevery houseon the island; and upon it was marked in red ink the various French posts, as far as they could be ascertained, while crosses in blue ink indicated the posts of the insurgent Corsicans. Captain Hood produced also a skeleton map of the island drawn to a very small scale, containing only such information as was necessary for my guidance; and during the delivery of his instructions frequent reference was made to both these maps, as well as to a manuscript book of what would be called “sailing directions” if it referred to a journey by water instead of by land, and from which I made brief notes from time to time, by way of memory-refreshers, in a tiny book with which Captain Hood furnished me. The skipper kept me with him for more than two hours—in fact until he had satisfied himself that I not only thoroughly understood what was required of me—which was very simple, being merely to find an individual, who was to be identified by certain pre-arranged tokens, and to deliver my despatches, or whatever they were, into his hands—but also that I had mastered every scrap of information which he was able to give me. When at length he found that I was fully “posted up,” he dismissed me to make my preparations, cautioning me to dress in plain clothes, and to exercise the utmost care that I carried no document or article of any description with me whereby I might be identified as belonging to the English service, “otherwise,” he grimly observed, “they will hang you without hesitation on the nearest tree. One thing more,” he continued, as I rose to leave the cabin; “as soon as you are landed, we shall proceed in search of Commodore Linzee’s squadron, which we are ordered to join; it is therefore quite uncertain when you may have an opportunity to return to the ship; but as I have reason to believe we shall operate somewhere at the northern end of the island, as soon as you have accomplished your mission you had better make for either Calvi or Bastia, and when you can learn our actual whereabouts, seize the first opportunity which offers to rejoin. Here,” handing me a packet, “is a sufficient amount of Fwench money to cawwy you handsomely thwough the business if no hitch occurs; if it does, you must exercise your ingenuity to get yourself out of the difficulty. Now go away and get weady, and—ah—er—I heartily wish you success. Good-bye.”He offered me his hand—with just the slightest perceptible touch of stiffness in the gesture—which I seized and shook so heartily in the excitement of the moment as to cause him to raise his eyebrows in astonishment at my audacity. The next minute I was on deck once more, with the cool night-air fanning my flushed and burning cheeks, while it urged the frigate through the water at a rate of about seven knots toward the lights of Ajaccio, which glimmered on the horizon broad on our starboard bow.

Once fairly at sea and out of reach of the enemy’s shot, we had time to take a look at ourselves and realise the extent of our damages. When passing over the same ground a few hours before, the “Juno” presented as pretty a picture as a nautical connoisseur could wish to see, with her hull recently painted, every spar in its place, and adjusted there to a nicety, her rigging in perfect order, and her white sails—the new look just worn off them, and barely stretched into their proper shape—without a blemish or fault to mar their perfect appearance.Now, she passed out to sea with her fore and main-topgallant-masts and mizen-topmast hanging over the side, the fore-topsail-yard down on the cap, the spankerboom shot away in the jaws, the flying-jib-stay and halliards cut through and the sail towing alongside, her canvas riddled with shot-holes, ends and bights of ropes streaming out in the wind everywhere aloft, and two 36-pound shot in her side. Luckily, however, our casualties ended here; for, notwithstanding the hailstorm of shot through which we had passed, not a man on board was hurt.

We were busy the remainder of that night, and a good part of the following day, making good the damages sustained. By evening, however, we were all ataunto once more; and as soon as the work was finished, Captain Hood mustered the hands and made them a speech, thanking them, both officers and men, for the courage and determination with which all had co-operated with him in effecting the escape of the ship from an enemy’s port, wherein she actually lay aground surrounded by armed ships, and with numerous heavily armed batteries opposing our departure. Percival was specially referred to, his skill in piloting the ship in and out again being dwelt upon in highly commendatory terms; and then—the skipper being a rare hand at turning out a neat speech and rounding it off with a compliment—the men were told that, having behaved so exceptionally well, their officers would now have no hesitation about engaging in any enterprise, however hazardous or hopeless it might appear, confident that the men they led would support them as long as they had strength to stand.

At the close of this speech the men, as in duty bound, gave three cheers, the hammocks were piped down, and life on board the “Juno” resumed once more its normal conditions.

The first question which suggested itself to the skipper, after getting his ship once more into fighting order, naturally was what was to be done with the supernumeraries which we had on board. His instructions, it appeared, made no provision whatever for the possibility of such acontretempsas had befallen us, and he was, in consequence, quite at a loss what to do. Finally, after talking the affair over with Mr Annesley, he resolved to take them back to Malta, and a course was accordingly shaped for that island. We accomplished the passage in five days, and landed the men, who were glad enough to plant their feet on mother earth once more, after knocking about in their confined quarters for nearly a fortnight.

During our absence, information of the evacuation of Toulon by Lord Hood had reached the island, and it was taken quite for granted that, going to the place in ignorance of this important fact, as we were, we should inevitably fall into some trap and be made prisoners; when therefore we put in an appearance once more, and the details of our escape were made known, we immediately became the object of unbounded curiosity and admiration. Hundreds flocked to see the ship (many of them being intensely disappointed at the almost entire absence of visible indications of the peril through which she had passed), and officers and men alike were pointed out and looked after in the streets, until we ran the greatest risk of becoming inordinately vain of our exploit. The admiration of the islanders did not end here, however; for it being deemed advisable to place the frigate in dry dock to examine her bottom and smooth her copper, after having touched the ground, as well as to make good a few defects which were beyond our own unaided powers, we were balled,fêted, picnicked, and generally made much of for three days by the excitable and pleasure-loving inhabitants, at the end of which time, our repairs being completed, we were hurried away to sea with sealed orders, to be opened off Cape Spartivento.

We arrived off this headland on the 22nd of January, and Captain Hood then learned that we were to remain on the spot until the evening of the 24th, when, if no farther instructions reached him, he was to open a sealed paper which he found enclosed with his orders. The ship was accordingly hove-to and placed under reefed topsails, a private signal was hoisted at the main-royal-mast-head, and in order that the time might not be absolutely wasted, the crew were put through a special course of drill.

A sharp lookout was maintained, in order that there might be no possibility of our being passed unobserved by any craft bearing later instructions; but though we saw plenty of feluccas passing along the coast, the only craft which came at all near us was a magnificent 40-gun frigate, which hoisted French colours and bore down towards us on our showing our ensign; but having approached within four miles and lying hove-to for half an hour, she resumed her original course to the northward, leaving us in a most unchristian frame of mind towards the admiral, whose orders tied us to the spot, and prevented our accepting the challenge she had given. We at first cherished the hope that if we did not go out to her, she would come down and attack us, but such a slice of good luck was not just then to fall to our lot.

The stipulated period of our stay off Cape Spartivento having at length expired, Captain Hood broke open the packet to which reference has already been made, and having acquainted himself with the farther instructions therein contained, orders were forthwith issued to make sail to the northward and westward.

We had a fine breeze from the eastward, to which we showed a heavy press of canvas; the frigate accordingly made short miles of the trip along the Sardinian coast, and on the following evening arrived off the Gulf of Ajaccio in Corsica, the coast-line being about twenty miles distant, and consequently “hull-down;” the mountain-chain, however, which forms as it were the backbone of Corsica, was distinctly visible, lighted up as it was by the gorgeous tints of sunset. Sail was now shortened to topsails, and the frigate hove-to.

While all hands were wondering more or less what the next move would be, I was sent for by the skipper to go to him in his cabin. On arriving there, I found him and Mr Annesley seated at the cabin-table with a decanter of port standing between them, glasses of the same at their elbows, and a large map spread out in the full light of the cabin lamp, which had just been lighted; the table being further littered with a large number of official-looking documents.

As I entered the cabin, Captain Hood raised his eyes from the map, over which both officers had been earnestly poring, and said,—

“Oh! come in, Mr Chester, and bwing yourself to an anchor. Atkins! a wine-glass for Mr Chester. There, help yourself, young gentleman.”

I poured out a glass of the port, wondering, as I sipped it, wherever the skipper managed to pick up so very excellent a wine; and when the steward had retired, closing the door after him, Captain Hood looked across the table at me, and said,—

“Mr Chester, I have been gweatly gwatified at the continued good weports which Mr Annesley makes of your conduct. He speaks vewy highly of your intelligence, persevewance, zeal, and couwage, and I—ah—may say that—er—I have myself noted fwom time to time your possession of those—ah—desiwable chawactewistics. Partly on this account, and partly because of your—ah—intimate knowledge of the Fwench language, I have selected you for the performance of a service in which all the qualities I have mentioned are—er—conspicuously necessawy. You will understand this more clearly when I explain that the service consists in the safe conveyance of certain vewy important documents to the hands of a Corsican gentleman on shore yonder, in the face of unknown but possibly sewious difficulties from the numewous Fwench twoops occupying the island, and into whose hands the documents in question must by no means be allowed to fall. I should hesitate vewy stwongly about intwusting one so young with a mission so delicate but for Mr Annesley’s positive assuwance that I may safely do so. Now, what say you? are you willing to undertake the service?”

To say that Ijumpedat the offer would but feebly express the eagerness with which I answered in the affirmative. Here was one of those chances for distinguishing myself for which I had so ardently longed, and here too was the prospect of at least temporary freedom from the restraints of discipline and the monotony of shipboard, to say nothing of the possibilities of excitement and adventure involved in the performance of a secret service in the enemy’s country. It was with the utmost difficulty I controlled my excitement sufficiently to listen to the skipper’s instructions, and to absorb and master the information necessary to the successful conduct of the enterprise.

The map spread upon the table was a map of Corsica drawn to a large scale, and showing every road, stream, mountain-path, wood, chateau—indeed I might almost sayevery houseon the island; and upon it was marked in red ink the various French posts, as far as they could be ascertained, while crosses in blue ink indicated the posts of the insurgent Corsicans. Captain Hood produced also a skeleton map of the island drawn to a very small scale, containing only such information as was necessary for my guidance; and during the delivery of his instructions frequent reference was made to both these maps, as well as to a manuscript book of what would be called “sailing directions” if it referred to a journey by water instead of by land, and from which I made brief notes from time to time, by way of memory-refreshers, in a tiny book with which Captain Hood furnished me. The skipper kept me with him for more than two hours—in fact until he had satisfied himself that I not only thoroughly understood what was required of me—which was very simple, being merely to find an individual, who was to be identified by certain pre-arranged tokens, and to deliver my despatches, or whatever they were, into his hands—but also that I had mastered every scrap of information which he was able to give me. When at length he found that I was fully “posted up,” he dismissed me to make my preparations, cautioning me to dress in plain clothes, and to exercise the utmost care that I carried no document or article of any description with me whereby I might be identified as belonging to the English service, “otherwise,” he grimly observed, “they will hang you without hesitation on the nearest tree. One thing more,” he continued, as I rose to leave the cabin; “as soon as you are landed, we shall proceed in search of Commodore Linzee’s squadron, which we are ordered to join; it is therefore quite uncertain when you may have an opportunity to return to the ship; but as I have reason to believe we shall operate somewhere at the northern end of the island, as soon as you have accomplished your mission you had better make for either Calvi or Bastia, and when you can learn our actual whereabouts, seize the first opportunity which offers to rejoin. Here,” handing me a packet, “is a sufficient amount of Fwench money to cawwy you handsomely thwough the business if no hitch occurs; if it does, you must exercise your ingenuity to get yourself out of the difficulty. Now go away and get weady, and—ah—er—I heartily wish you success. Good-bye.”

He offered me his hand—with just the slightest perceptible touch of stiffness in the gesture—which I seized and shook so heartily in the excitement of the moment as to cause him to raise his eyebrows in astonishment at my audacity. The next minute I was on deck once more, with the cool night-air fanning my flushed and burning cheeks, while it urged the frigate through the water at a rate of about seven knots toward the lights of Ajaccio, which glimmered on the horizon broad on our starboard bow.

Chapter Eleven.The Road to Ajaccio.My descent to the midshipmen’s berth for the purpose of making my few preparations was the signal for a general fusillade of questions from my inquisitive messmates as to the why and wherefore of my summons to the cabin, and great was the disgust which each felt thathehad been passed over in favour of so unimportant a personage as myself. It was quite true that no one of them could claim to possess more than the merest rudimentary knowledge of French, yet each was prepared with what he considered an amply sufficient reason why he should have been specially selected for the service.Mr Midshipman Raleigh maintained that the duty was his by right, in virtue of his seniority; and as to his ignorance of French, that was a mere trifle which he was quite satisfied would never have proved the slightest impediment to his success.Little Percy Neville—a blue-eyed, golden-haired lad whom not even a blind man could well have mistaken for anything else than pure Anglo-Saxon—flattered himself that “the cut of his jib” was so eminently French as to deceive even the most practised eye; while as to language, he could saybonjour or bon soir, and bow with the air of a born Parisian. These accomplishments were, he considered, amply sufficient to ensure his perfect safety while travelling, and to enable him triumphantly to accomplish his mission—if need were—in the full light of day, and under the very eyes of unsuspecting thousands.Mr Robert Summers was of opinion that that was all very well, andmightdo; but ifhehad been entrusted with the duty, his first step would have been to proceed straight to Ajaccio, and there disburse some of the French coin in the acquisition of an organ and monkey, together with a full suit of picturesque Italian rags, all of which he knew would be easily procurable; and provided with these, he would have felt prepared to face with the most unruffled nonchalance the severest scrutiny of a whole regiment of French detectives—the acuteness of the mere soldiery he considered would have proved simply beneath his contempt.Each of the other “young gentlemen” was equally ready to suggest an infallible scheme for baffling the vigilance of the enemy; and if the conversation had no other value, it at least served to amuse me while making my preparations for the expedition.The money was mostly paper, and my first act was to carefully secrete it among the lining of the suit of “long togs” which I had decided to bend for my cruise ashore. I then packed a small leather bag with a shirt or two, selecting such as—I say it with shame—I had been too lazy to mark, a pair of socks, a brush and comb, a piece of soap—afterwards rejected upon the urgent representation of Bob Summers that the Frenchneverused soap, much less carried it about with them—and a few other necessaries of trifling bulk, together with a small sketch-book and a box of colours; my idea being that the best way to elude inconvenient attention was by neither courting nor avoiding it, and my intention was to endeavour to pass as a young German artist student on a sketching tour, a sufficient knowledge of German and drawing for such a purpose being among my accomplishments. Lastly, I summoned up courage to ask of Mr Annesley the loan of a pair of beautiful little pocket-pistols which I had frequently noticed when I had had occasion to go to his cabin.This completed my equipment, and by the time that I was ready and once more on deck the frigate had approached to within some six miles of the land, and was in the act of heaving-to, it being considered that we were now as close in as it was prudent to go.When I stepped on deck, Captain Hood was on the quarter-deck, talking to Mr Annesley and Mr Rawlings, the master—who was so far convalescent as to be able once more to resume the duties of his post—and as I approached the group, I heard the skipper remark, “And so you know Ajaccio well, Mr Rawlings?”“Ay, ay, sir,” responded the master, “almost as well as I know Portsmouth Harbour; I have been in there twice, and can put the ship wherever you want her, within a fathom or so, dark as it is.”“Is there not a ruin of some sort close to the water’s edge, about six miles to the southward of the town?”“There is, sir; an old chapel I believe it is. The ground rises rather steeply from the water’s edge there, and is covered with trees. The ruin stands just on the edge of an over-hanging bank, about thirty feet above high-water mark; and the beach below is—or was when I saw it last—littered with stones and blocks of masonry which have fallen from the building.”“Would it be safe to attempt a landing there with a boat on such a night as this?” asked the skipper.“Couldn’t find a safer spot to land on anywhere in the island,” confidently replied Rawlings. “The beach is all shingle, and pretty steep, bottom quite clear of rocks, and not a ripple there with the wind this way. Run the boat’s nose up high and dry, and jump out on to the beach without wetting your feet. Then, as to the chance of being discovered, the place is dreadful lonesome, specially at night—they do say as it’s ha’nted, though I can’t vouch for the truth of the story; but Idoknow this much, that the last time I was ashore there, I took a stroll out as far as the ruin towards nightfall, and they told me as I don’t know what would happen if I went there; nobody ever went a-near the place at nightfall, so they said.”“Anddidanything happen?” inquired Mr Annesley.“Lord bless you! no, sir. I enjoyed the walk amazingly; sat and smoked my pipe among the ruins, and watched the sun go down; stayed there till the moon rose, and then walked back again to the town, and never saw a soul within a mile of the spot all the while I was there.”“Does not the high road to Ajaccio pass close by the ruin?” inquired the skipper.“Within a cable’s length of it,” replied Rawlings. “And when once you’re in the road, turn to the left, and it’s all plain sailing for the rest of the way right into the town. There’s only one turning in the road, and that’s just after you leave the ruin; but it is only a narrow road; it turns to the right, and leads off somewhere among the hills.”“Just so,” remarked the skipper in a tone of great satisfaction. “What Rawlings says agrees most accurately with the information supplied to us, you see,” he continued, addressing Mr Annesley; “so I think if young Chester only follows out his instructions with ordinary care, he should have no difficulty in finding the place to which he is sent.”“None whatever, I should imagine,” returned Mr Annesley. “He is very young, I admit, to be entrusted with such important documents, but on that very account he is all the less likely to attract attention; and I have the utmost faith in his readiness of resource, which I believe is quite equal to the task of keeping him clear of all difficulty. Do you still feel quite confident of success?” he asked, turning to me.“Perhaps I ought not to say quite so much as that, sir,” I replied, “but I feel no nervousness whatever, and I will do all I possibly can to succeed.”“That is quite sufficient,” said the skipper. “And now it is time you were off. Let them man my gig, the crew taking their sidearms with them. And as you know the place so well, Mr Rawlings, I will ask you to take command of the expedition, and kindly put Mr Chester fairly in the main road to Ajaccio. Remember, Mr Chester—the first turning to the right.”“Ay, ay, sir,” I replied. A few brief and final instructions were given me; the skipper once more shook hands, and wished me success, Mr Annesley following suit; and then, the gig being by that time manned and in the water, I slipped down the side and seated myself in the stern-sheets alongside old Rawlings, the bowman shoved off, and the crew, dropping their oars with a splash into the water and dashing it into liquid fire, stretched out to their work, sending the light boat dancing over the wavelets toward the distant shore, and leaving far astern a luminous wake, with six small whirlpools of fire eddying on each side of it.We pulled steadily on for half an hour, and then, that no precaution might be omitted, the crew were ordered to muffle their oars. This done, we resumed our way, but at a much quieter pace, the land rising up before us an uniform black mass against the deep violet of the star-studded sky, without the faintest suggestion of detail of any kind whereby to direct our course. How Rawlings could possibly hit a spot so absolutely invisible as the ruin seemed quite incomprehensible to me; but there is no doubt he was specially gifted in that respect, it being apparently impossible for him to forget or confuse the slightest details of any locality which he had once visited.Be that as it may, we paddled gently on until the boat was so completely within the shadow of the land that we were in utter darkness, it being impossible to distinguish the face of the stroke oarsman from where I sat. A few more strokes, and Rawlings uttered in a low tone the word “oars!” they were noiselessly laid in, and in another moment the boat’s bow grated upon the shingle of the beach.“Now as soon as we have landed, shove off to about fifty or sixty fathoms from the beach, and lay on your oars, ready to pull quietly in again when you hear me whistle three times. But if Ihailinstead of whistling, bend your backs and send her in upon the beach with all your strength, and then jump out and shove her off again the moment I’m aboard, for in that case I shall have Johnny Crapaud after me,” said Rawlings to the coxswain, as we stepped gingerly forward to the bow of the boat.As soon as our feet touched the shingle, we turned round, and giving the boat’s nose a vigorous shove launched her off the beach, with enough stern-way upon her to carry her the prescribed distance from the beach without the aid of the oars. As we stood for a moment watching her, we were much disconcerted to observe how distinctly she could be seen upon the surface of the starlit water by eyes which had become accustomed to the surrounding gloom.I should have been seriously apprehensive of almost instant discovery, but for Rawlings’s steady adherence to his original statement that no one would ever approach the place after dusk upon any consideration. As it was, I felt that the sooner Rawlings was once more on board and on his way back to the ship, the easier should I be in my mind; I therefore proposed that we should push ahead for the high road without further pause.The spot was indeed of a character calculated to impress with awe and superstitious dread the uneducated mind. The ground sloped steeply toward the shore, terminating, at its juncture with the beach, in a sort of low cliff or precipitous bank about thirty feet high, the face of which was densely overgrown with shrubs of various kinds, from the midst of which irregular strata of a coarse dirty-white marble cropped out. On the extreme verge of the cliff stood the shattered ruin already referred to, barely distinguishable from where we stood, as a gaunt, shapeless, indefinable mass; while the beach below was encumbered with stones and blocks of masonry which had fallen from it from time to time. The uneven surface of the ground for some distance on each side of the ruin, and as far back as the road, was completely overshadowed by enormous cypress-trees, all of which seemed extremely ancient, while some appeared quite dead and withered. There was, in addition to these trees, a thick undergrowth of long rank grass and stunted shrubs, among which an outrageously prickly variety of the cactus made itself conspicuously apparent to the touch; while, more than half hidden by the undergrowth, there were dotted here and there a few sepulchral stones and monuments in the very last stage of irretrievable dilapidation. Add to these sombre surroundings the melancholy sighing of the night-wind through the branches of the trees overhead, and the occasional weird cry of some nocturnal bird, and it will not be wondered at if I confess I felt a strong desire to get beyond the precincts of the eerie place with as little delay as possible.After listening intently for a minute or two, without hearing any sound whatever indicative of the proximity of the enemy, our eyes meanwhile growing more accustomed to the intense darkness, we pushed forward as rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit, and in about ten minutes more found ourselves in an excellent road about sixty feet wide, which Rawlings informed me led direct to Ajaccio, distant about seven miles.“Now, Mr Chester,” said he, “my duty is ended as far as you are concerned, and all I have to do is to slip back to the beach and get off to the ship as soon as possible, and we shall not be long running out to her with this pretty little breeze. I only wish your task was as easy as the remainder of mine—but there, if it was, there’d be no honour nor credit in the doing of it, whereas I make no manner of doubt that if you succeed in this business your promotion will be certain the moment you’ve sarved long enough, and anyway it’ll be a fine feather in your cap. I got an inkling of what it is, while talking to the skipper just now, but didn’t get quite the rights of it; is it a secret?”“Certainly not fromyou” I replied; “at least I have not been given to understand so. My errand is merely to deliver certain papers into the hands of a certain individual ashore here, and then rejoin the ship as early as possible. The task would be absurdly easy, were it not for the unsettled state of the country, which seems to be all up in arms, what with the French, the insurgent Corsicans, and the banditti, the latter being, I am told, especially dangerous.”“No doubt—no doubt!” remarked Rawlings in an absent sort of way. “Well, I wish you well over your cruise, my lad; keep a cool head, for it seems to me that you’ve white water all round you, whichever way you shape a course. Concerning the rejoining business, how are you going to set about that?”“Captain Hood advised me to make the best of my way to the northern end of the island, as soon as I have delivered my despatches; he thinks it most likely I shall find the ‘Juno’ there.”“Ay, ay? So that’s it, eh?” ejaculated Rawlings. “Well, I s’pose you’ll haul your land-tacks aboard for that trip; it’ll be a change from knocking about at sea. But if you find you can’t work that traverse, just you slip down to Ajaccio some quiet night; there’s a whole fleet of pleasure-boats of all sorts and sizes there; just jump aboard one of ’em, slip your moorings, and make a coasting v’yage of it. They’re most of ’em capital sea-boats, and you know a good model when you see one by this time, I s’pose. Don’t take a larger craft than you can handle, and, above all, don’t take a lateener; they’re fine craft when they have a full crew aboard as knows how to handle ’em, but they’re dreadful awkward for one hand. You’ll find some little things about five-and-twenty foot over all; they’re plenty large enough, and some of ’em are regular leg-o’-mutton-rigged—a big sail for’ard and a jigger aft; they sail like witches, and’ll go right in the wind’s eye. Look out for one of them chaps; one man can handle ’em in any weather. And now I must be off. Good-bye, my lad, and good luck to ye.”So saying, he shook hands, and, plunging into the shrubbery, disappeared.

My descent to the midshipmen’s berth for the purpose of making my few preparations was the signal for a general fusillade of questions from my inquisitive messmates as to the why and wherefore of my summons to the cabin, and great was the disgust which each felt thathehad been passed over in favour of so unimportant a personage as myself. It was quite true that no one of them could claim to possess more than the merest rudimentary knowledge of French, yet each was prepared with what he considered an amply sufficient reason why he should have been specially selected for the service.

Mr Midshipman Raleigh maintained that the duty was his by right, in virtue of his seniority; and as to his ignorance of French, that was a mere trifle which he was quite satisfied would never have proved the slightest impediment to his success.

Little Percy Neville—a blue-eyed, golden-haired lad whom not even a blind man could well have mistaken for anything else than pure Anglo-Saxon—flattered himself that “the cut of his jib” was so eminently French as to deceive even the most practised eye; while as to language, he could saybonjour or bon soir, and bow with the air of a born Parisian. These accomplishments were, he considered, amply sufficient to ensure his perfect safety while travelling, and to enable him triumphantly to accomplish his mission—if need were—in the full light of day, and under the very eyes of unsuspecting thousands.

Mr Robert Summers was of opinion that that was all very well, andmightdo; but ifhehad been entrusted with the duty, his first step would have been to proceed straight to Ajaccio, and there disburse some of the French coin in the acquisition of an organ and monkey, together with a full suit of picturesque Italian rags, all of which he knew would be easily procurable; and provided with these, he would have felt prepared to face with the most unruffled nonchalance the severest scrutiny of a whole regiment of French detectives—the acuteness of the mere soldiery he considered would have proved simply beneath his contempt.

Each of the other “young gentlemen” was equally ready to suggest an infallible scheme for baffling the vigilance of the enemy; and if the conversation had no other value, it at least served to amuse me while making my preparations for the expedition.

The money was mostly paper, and my first act was to carefully secrete it among the lining of the suit of “long togs” which I had decided to bend for my cruise ashore. I then packed a small leather bag with a shirt or two, selecting such as—I say it with shame—I had been too lazy to mark, a pair of socks, a brush and comb, a piece of soap—afterwards rejected upon the urgent representation of Bob Summers that the Frenchneverused soap, much less carried it about with them—and a few other necessaries of trifling bulk, together with a small sketch-book and a box of colours; my idea being that the best way to elude inconvenient attention was by neither courting nor avoiding it, and my intention was to endeavour to pass as a young German artist student on a sketching tour, a sufficient knowledge of German and drawing for such a purpose being among my accomplishments. Lastly, I summoned up courage to ask of Mr Annesley the loan of a pair of beautiful little pocket-pistols which I had frequently noticed when I had had occasion to go to his cabin.

This completed my equipment, and by the time that I was ready and once more on deck the frigate had approached to within some six miles of the land, and was in the act of heaving-to, it being considered that we were now as close in as it was prudent to go.

When I stepped on deck, Captain Hood was on the quarter-deck, talking to Mr Annesley and Mr Rawlings, the master—who was so far convalescent as to be able once more to resume the duties of his post—and as I approached the group, I heard the skipper remark, “And so you know Ajaccio well, Mr Rawlings?”

“Ay, ay, sir,” responded the master, “almost as well as I know Portsmouth Harbour; I have been in there twice, and can put the ship wherever you want her, within a fathom or so, dark as it is.”

“Is there not a ruin of some sort close to the water’s edge, about six miles to the southward of the town?”

“There is, sir; an old chapel I believe it is. The ground rises rather steeply from the water’s edge there, and is covered with trees. The ruin stands just on the edge of an over-hanging bank, about thirty feet above high-water mark; and the beach below is—or was when I saw it last—littered with stones and blocks of masonry which have fallen from the building.”

“Would it be safe to attempt a landing there with a boat on such a night as this?” asked the skipper.

“Couldn’t find a safer spot to land on anywhere in the island,” confidently replied Rawlings. “The beach is all shingle, and pretty steep, bottom quite clear of rocks, and not a ripple there with the wind this way. Run the boat’s nose up high and dry, and jump out on to the beach without wetting your feet. Then, as to the chance of being discovered, the place is dreadful lonesome, specially at night—they do say as it’s ha’nted, though I can’t vouch for the truth of the story; but Idoknow this much, that the last time I was ashore there, I took a stroll out as far as the ruin towards nightfall, and they told me as I don’t know what would happen if I went there; nobody ever went a-near the place at nightfall, so they said.”

“Anddidanything happen?” inquired Mr Annesley.

“Lord bless you! no, sir. I enjoyed the walk amazingly; sat and smoked my pipe among the ruins, and watched the sun go down; stayed there till the moon rose, and then walked back again to the town, and never saw a soul within a mile of the spot all the while I was there.”

“Does not the high road to Ajaccio pass close by the ruin?” inquired the skipper.

“Within a cable’s length of it,” replied Rawlings. “And when once you’re in the road, turn to the left, and it’s all plain sailing for the rest of the way right into the town. There’s only one turning in the road, and that’s just after you leave the ruin; but it is only a narrow road; it turns to the right, and leads off somewhere among the hills.”

“Just so,” remarked the skipper in a tone of great satisfaction. “What Rawlings says agrees most accurately with the information supplied to us, you see,” he continued, addressing Mr Annesley; “so I think if young Chester only follows out his instructions with ordinary care, he should have no difficulty in finding the place to which he is sent.”

“None whatever, I should imagine,” returned Mr Annesley. “He is very young, I admit, to be entrusted with such important documents, but on that very account he is all the less likely to attract attention; and I have the utmost faith in his readiness of resource, which I believe is quite equal to the task of keeping him clear of all difficulty. Do you still feel quite confident of success?” he asked, turning to me.

“Perhaps I ought not to say quite so much as that, sir,” I replied, “but I feel no nervousness whatever, and I will do all I possibly can to succeed.”

“That is quite sufficient,” said the skipper. “And now it is time you were off. Let them man my gig, the crew taking their sidearms with them. And as you know the place so well, Mr Rawlings, I will ask you to take command of the expedition, and kindly put Mr Chester fairly in the main road to Ajaccio. Remember, Mr Chester—the first turning to the right.”

“Ay, ay, sir,” I replied. A few brief and final instructions were given me; the skipper once more shook hands, and wished me success, Mr Annesley following suit; and then, the gig being by that time manned and in the water, I slipped down the side and seated myself in the stern-sheets alongside old Rawlings, the bowman shoved off, and the crew, dropping their oars with a splash into the water and dashing it into liquid fire, stretched out to their work, sending the light boat dancing over the wavelets toward the distant shore, and leaving far astern a luminous wake, with six small whirlpools of fire eddying on each side of it.

We pulled steadily on for half an hour, and then, that no precaution might be omitted, the crew were ordered to muffle their oars. This done, we resumed our way, but at a much quieter pace, the land rising up before us an uniform black mass against the deep violet of the star-studded sky, without the faintest suggestion of detail of any kind whereby to direct our course. How Rawlings could possibly hit a spot so absolutely invisible as the ruin seemed quite incomprehensible to me; but there is no doubt he was specially gifted in that respect, it being apparently impossible for him to forget or confuse the slightest details of any locality which he had once visited.

Be that as it may, we paddled gently on until the boat was so completely within the shadow of the land that we were in utter darkness, it being impossible to distinguish the face of the stroke oarsman from where I sat. A few more strokes, and Rawlings uttered in a low tone the word “oars!” they were noiselessly laid in, and in another moment the boat’s bow grated upon the shingle of the beach.

“Now as soon as we have landed, shove off to about fifty or sixty fathoms from the beach, and lay on your oars, ready to pull quietly in again when you hear me whistle three times. But if Ihailinstead of whistling, bend your backs and send her in upon the beach with all your strength, and then jump out and shove her off again the moment I’m aboard, for in that case I shall have Johnny Crapaud after me,” said Rawlings to the coxswain, as we stepped gingerly forward to the bow of the boat.

As soon as our feet touched the shingle, we turned round, and giving the boat’s nose a vigorous shove launched her off the beach, with enough stern-way upon her to carry her the prescribed distance from the beach without the aid of the oars. As we stood for a moment watching her, we were much disconcerted to observe how distinctly she could be seen upon the surface of the starlit water by eyes which had become accustomed to the surrounding gloom.

I should have been seriously apprehensive of almost instant discovery, but for Rawlings’s steady adherence to his original statement that no one would ever approach the place after dusk upon any consideration. As it was, I felt that the sooner Rawlings was once more on board and on his way back to the ship, the easier should I be in my mind; I therefore proposed that we should push ahead for the high road without further pause.

The spot was indeed of a character calculated to impress with awe and superstitious dread the uneducated mind. The ground sloped steeply toward the shore, terminating, at its juncture with the beach, in a sort of low cliff or precipitous bank about thirty feet high, the face of which was densely overgrown with shrubs of various kinds, from the midst of which irregular strata of a coarse dirty-white marble cropped out. On the extreme verge of the cliff stood the shattered ruin already referred to, barely distinguishable from where we stood, as a gaunt, shapeless, indefinable mass; while the beach below was encumbered with stones and blocks of masonry which had fallen from it from time to time. The uneven surface of the ground for some distance on each side of the ruin, and as far back as the road, was completely overshadowed by enormous cypress-trees, all of which seemed extremely ancient, while some appeared quite dead and withered. There was, in addition to these trees, a thick undergrowth of long rank grass and stunted shrubs, among which an outrageously prickly variety of the cactus made itself conspicuously apparent to the touch; while, more than half hidden by the undergrowth, there were dotted here and there a few sepulchral stones and monuments in the very last stage of irretrievable dilapidation. Add to these sombre surroundings the melancholy sighing of the night-wind through the branches of the trees overhead, and the occasional weird cry of some nocturnal bird, and it will not be wondered at if I confess I felt a strong desire to get beyond the precincts of the eerie place with as little delay as possible.

After listening intently for a minute or two, without hearing any sound whatever indicative of the proximity of the enemy, our eyes meanwhile growing more accustomed to the intense darkness, we pushed forward as rapidly as the nature of the ground would permit, and in about ten minutes more found ourselves in an excellent road about sixty feet wide, which Rawlings informed me led direct to Ajaccio, distant about seven miles.

“Now, Mr Chester,” said he, “my duty is ended as far as you are concerned, and all I have to do is to slip back to the beach and get off to the ship as soon as possible, and we shall not be long running out to her with this pretty little breeze. I only wish your task was as easy as the remainder of mine—but there, if it was, there’d be no honour nor credit in the doing of it, whereas I make no manner of doubt that if you succeed in this business your promotion will be certain the moment you’ve sarved long enough, and anyway it’ll be a fine feather in your cap. I got an inkling of what it is, while talking to the skipper just now, but didn’t get quite the rights of it; is it a secret?”

“Certainly not fromyou” I replied; “at least I have not been given to understand so. My errand is merely to deliver certain papers into the hands of a certain individual ashore here, and then rejoin the ship as early as possible. The task would be absurdly easy, were it not for the unsettled state of the country, which seems to be all up in arms, what with the French, the insurgent Corsicans, and the banditti, the latter being, I am told, especially dangerous.”

“No doubt—no doubt!” remarked Rawlings in an absent sort of way. “Well, I wish you well over your cruise, my lad; keep a cool head, for it seems to me that you’ve white water all round you, whichever way you shape a course. Concerning the rejoining business, how are you going to set about that?”

“Captain Hood advised me to make the best of my way to the northern end of the island, as soon as I have delivered my despatches; he thinks it most likely I shall find the ‘Juno’ there.”

“Ay, ay? So that’s it, eh?” ejaculated Rawlings. “Well, I s’pose you’ll haul your land-tacks aboard for that trip; it’ll be a change from knocking about at sea. But if you find you can’t work that traverse, just you slip down to Ajaccio some quiet night; there’s a whole fleet of pleasure-boats of all sorts and sizes there; just jump aboard one of ’em, slip your moorings, and make a coasting v’yage of it. They’re most of ’em capital sea-boats, and you know a good model when you see one by this time, I s’pose. Don’t take a larger craft than you can handle, and, above all, don’t take a lateener; they’re fine craft when they have a full crew aboard as knows how to handle ’em, but they’re dreadful awkward for one hand. You’ll find some little things about five-and-twenty foot over all; they’re plenty large enough, and some of ’em are regular leg-o’-mutton-rigged—a big sail for’ard and a jigger aft; they sail like witches, and’ll go right in the wind’s eye. Look out for one of them chaps; one man can handle ’em in any weather. And now I must be off. Good-bye, my lad, and good luck to ye.”

So saying, he shook hands, and, plunging into the shrubbery, disappeared.

Chapter Twelve.Betrayed into the Hands of the Philistines.I was now fairly embarked upon my adventure, the various difficulties of which seemed suddenly to present themselves to my mind in all their formidable reality. While safe on board the frigate, surrounded by my shipmates, they had appeared to be the veriest trifles, scarcely worth a serious thought; but now that I stood alone in an enemy’s country, with nothing to depend upon but my own sagacity and nerve, I saw in an instant—as though the truth had been revealed by a lightning-flash—that I had indeed undertaken a task, the successful performance of which would tax to their utmost extent every one of the qualities for which the skipper had given me credit.However, I was now irretrievably in for it; there was no possibility of backing out, had I been ever so inclined—but I was not; I would have died first—so pulling myself together, and conquering by a strong effort a curious quaky sensation which had for a moment oppressed me, I set out upon my journey.The spot to which I was bound was a chateau situated about eighteen miles inland, in the very heart of the mountain district. It was the property of Count Lorenzo Paoli, the brother of the General Paoli who, at the head of the Corsican insurgents, was then endeavouring to drive the French out of the island. My despatches—or whatever they were—were for Count Lorenzo; and though I was of course unacquainted with their contents, I surmised that they had relation to some probable assistance to be rendered by the English to the Corsicans. Under ordinary circumstances my mission would have been extremely easy of accomplishment; but, as I have already remarked, the island was in a thoroughly unsettled state, almost every male inhabitant being in arms.The French, irritated by the rising of the Corsicans, and imbued with that feeling of cold-blooded and demoniacal ferocity which developed itself during the Reign of Terror, rendering that period of French history for ever infamous, were of course those from whom I had most to fear. But the Corsicans, their naturally excitable temperament raised to frenzy by the atrocities of the French, rendered suspicious by frequent treachery, and impetuously rushing into a system of the most hideous reprisals, were almost equally dangerous, their creed being that he who was not with them must necessarily be against them; and their proceedings with regard to suspected persons were rumoured to be of the most summary character. Lastly, there were the brigands, composed principally of the very dregs of Corsican society, a community made up of all the criminality in the island, thieves, murderers, escaped convicts, and outcasts of every description, utterly destitute of the faintest spark of honour, patriotism,orhumanity, preying upon friend and foe alike, and outstripping both in deeds of fiendish cruelty. As I thought these matters over, it seemed to me that my only safety lay in the most careful avoidance of every human eye, pursuing my journey during the dead of night, and lyingperduthroughout the day.A walk of two or three hundred yards along the main road brought me to the “turning-off” on the right, which I was directed to follow in order to gain the chateau. It appeared to be quite a by-road, so narrow that there seemed scarcely room for two vehicles to pass, and it was in a most wretched condition, the surface being ploughed into deep broad ruts, and completely cut up by the feet of cattle.It led apparently through the heart of an extensive forest, the trees of which, uniting their branches overhead, must have veiled the way in semi-obscurity even at noon-day. When I turned into it—at about two o’clock a.m.—the starlit sky gave just sufficient light to enable me to pursue my way along the main road; but by the time I had penetrated a couple of hundred yards into this by-path, I was enveloped in a perfectly Egyptian darkness. By degrees, however, my vision became accustomed to the gloom, and I stumbled on over the uneven ground for a distance of some twelve miles, when daylight began to appear through the leafy canopy overhead, and prudence suggested to me the desirability of forthwith seeking some safe hiding-place wherein to pass the day and take that repose of which I was beginning to feel the need. I therefore turned off the road and plunged into the forest for about a quarter of a mile, when I came upon a dense and almost impenetrable thicket which seemed admirably suited to my purpose; I accordingly forced my way into it until I found a spot of clear ground wide enough to stretch myself upon comfortably, when flinging myself upon the turf, and placing my bag beneath my head, I almost immediately dropped off into a deep and dreamless slumber.It was just three o’clock in the afternoon when I awoke. My somewhat unwonted exertions of the previous night had greatly fatigued me, and I should probably have slept on until darkness had once more returned, had it not been for a wandering sun-ray which had found its way through the branches overhead, and, shining directly in my face, had awakened me. I awoke stiff, ravenously hungry, and parched with thirst. I had had the forethought to provide against an inopportune attack of the former feeling, by putting a biscuit or two in my pocket; but in the excitement of coming away I had omitted—as I now found to my chagrin—to bring my flask with me. I accordingly brought out my biscuits, and endeavoured to make a meal of them alone, but they were, like all biscuits, dry, and my throat was so parched that I found I could scarcely swallow a mouthful. While struggling with this little difficulty a faint breeze brought to my ear a sound which I decided must be the rushing of a distant stream over its rocky bed, and thinking of nothing at the moment so much as my intense thirst, I sprang to my feet, and seizing my bag, set out in the direction from which the sound appeared to come.My progress was anything but rapid, the ground being entirely overgrown with creepers and thick shrubs, but that I was proceeding in the right direction was satisfactorily demonstrated by the increasing distinctness with which I could hear the sound of the rushing water.My exertions in the close and stifling atmosphere of the wood soon made me uncomfortably warm, at the same time increasing my thirst to an almost unbearable degree, but there was nothing for it but patience, so I pushed on, panting and perspiring, as rapidly as it was possible for me to get over the ground. As I continued to advance, the sound increased in volume, though it still appeared to come from a considerable distance, and I at length came to the conclusion that it was not caused so much by the rush of the river over its bed as by the fall of the water down a cataract. The surmise eventually proved to be correct, for after an hour and a half of severe exertion, the latter half-hour of which I had been journeying over steeply-rising ground, I found myself beside a considerable stream, the waters of which, about a hundred yards higher up, came foaming and tumbling down from a height of some fifty feet, through a deep cleft in the face of the rock, into a deep, transparent pool, from whence they passed away over a rocky bed, and wound out of sight among the trees.It was a lovely spot upon which I had thus stumbled. The ground rose abruptly on both sides of the stream; that on the opposite side being a rocky precipice, the strata of variously-coloured stone twisted and contorted in the most extraordinary manner, geraniums of various hues growing out from between the interstices of the rock, and the summit of the precipice crowned with a rich profusion of trailing creepers, some of which, notwithstanding the time of year, were in blossom, and the perfume of which scented the air.Round the mossy rim of the basin into which the waters fell, and which appeared to be always damp with spray, grew a profusion of exquisitely delicate ferns; the sward beyond was thickly starred with a species of double daisy and the elegant hyacinth, and enclosing all was the pine wood through which I had been travelling.The beauties of the place, however, had no attraction for me until I had in some measure assuaged my burning thirst, which I did by going down upon my hands and knees on a convenient rock, and plunging my heated face into the cool, pellucid water. I was careful to drink at first with extreme moderation, and then, having satisfied the first sharp craving for a draught, I stripped and plunged in, treating myself to as thorough an ablution as was possible in the absence of my cake of old brown Windsor. Refreshed and invigorated with the bath, I at length emerged, and dressing with all expedition, sat down to discuss my biscuits, which I disposed of to the last mouthful, gazing admiringly upon my surroundings meanwhile.My meal finished, it became necessary for me to set out forthwith in search of the road which was to guide me to my destination. I had no intention whatever of retracing my steps over the ground already traversed. In the first place, I was exceedingly doubtful whether I could find my way back to the spot from which I had started, and in the next, I considered that it would be simply a waste of time and strength. I had not been altogether unmindful of the course I was steering while seeking for the river, and I was of opinion that though I had been travelling rather away from the road, if anything, yet on the whole my course had been pretty much in its direction. In order to regain it, therefore, all that seemed necessary was to make my way in a direction about at right angles with my former course.I accordingly edged away in what I judged to be the right direction, choosing my ground, however, more with a view to easy than to direct progress. I estimated that it would occupy about an hour, or perhaps an hour and a half—certainly not more—to regain the road, and as I was anxious to do this before it became quite dark, I pushed rapidly forward, and the wood growing somewhat more open as I proceeded, with less undergrowth, I made very fair progress.The hour which I had allowed myself passed, and still there was no sign of the road. I felt sure, however, that it could not be far away, and at all events I was going in the right direction, the ground rising continuously, so I carried on under a heavy press of sail, expecting every moment to emerge into the beaten track, and growing increasingly anxious to do so as I noted the rapidity with which darkness was falling upon the scene, notwithstanding the fact that the trees were by this time so far apart and the ground so clear that walking was as easy as it would have been on the road itself. In this state of mingled hope and anxiety I hurried on for another hour, still without hitting upon the road; by which time it had become so dark that I grew fearful of losing my way. The stars had appeared, and shone brilliantly, their light, however, being insufficient to enable me to see where I was going; so after stumbling on over the uneven ground for a quarter of an hour longer, during which I experienced more than one awkward tumble, the conclusion forced itself upon me that I had strayed somewhat from the right direction, and had better defer until the next morning any further effort to discover the lost road.Having arrived at this conclusion, my next business was to find a tolerably comfortable spot in which to bestow myself for the night. While searching for this, I quite unexpectedly reached the edge of the wood, and in another minute stood beyond its boundary, finding myself upon a broad expanse of rugged, open moorland, at the farther extremity of which the ground again rose steeply until it terminated in what was evidently the ridge of the mountain-chain running north and south through the island.Two circumstances struck me at the same moment on emerging into the open, one of which was that a heavy thunder-storm was rapidly working up against the wind, the other being that a hut or hovel of some sort stood about half a mile distant.The question immediately arose in my mind whether I should approach this building, upon the chance of obtaining a night’s lodging therein, or whether it would be more prudent to pass the night and brave the gathering storm in the open. I might of course have returned to the comparative shelter of the wood, but I should have been obliged to penetrate it for some distance before it would be thick enough to afford me the slightest protection from the deluge of rain which was coming up in those black and threatening clouds, and, in addition to this, I felt that, while only inadequately sheltered from the rain, I should be exposed to the very serious danger of being struck by lightning. Then again, it was possible that the hut might be deserted, in which case I need have no hesitation about availing myself of its shelter. There was of course, on the other hand, a chance of its being inhabited, but if so, its occupant would probably be no one more dangerous than a simple herd or wood-cutter, and it was not from such that I had anything to fear. As I stood irresolute, turning these matters over in my mind, a vivid flash of lightning, followed, after a pause of some seconds, by the long reverberating roll of distant thunder, reminded me of the desirability of coming to a decision, one way or another, without delay; I accordingly made up my mind to risk going to the hut, rather than remain exposed to the storm.I therefore hurried forward, the lightning meanwhile flashing out more and more vividly, and at shorter intervals; the thunder sounding louder and nearer at every discharge; and the vast curtain of cloud spreading rapidly athwart the sky, obliterating the stars, and enveloping nature in a pall of awful gloom.On approaching the hut, it became apparent that it was uninhabited, for the door hung pendent from one hinge, the other being wrenched off, while of the two small windows which admitted light to the interior, one sash was gone altogether, the aperture being completely denuded of every vestige of woodwork, while the other was protected only by a battered and weather-stained wooden shutter. The edifice itself was constructed of sods, the roof being roughly framed together with branches—no doubt lopped from the trees of the neighbouring wood—and thatched.I reached the building only just in time. While yet a hundred yards or so from it, the cool night-breeze dropped all in a moment, and was succeeded by a hushed and breathless calm. An awful silence suddenly fell upon nature, the myriad insect voices became mute, the night-birds ceased to utter their melancholy cries, the sighing of the wind through the trees of the distant wood was no longer heard; a hush of dread expectancy ensued. A few seconds elapsed, and then a mysterious murmur filled the air, the trees swayed and tossed their branches wildly for a moment, a fierce gust of hot air swept past, and all was still again. I dashed forward and reached the doorway, and as I passed across the threshold, the canopy of cloud overhead was rent open, a blinding flash of livid lightning blazed out, illumining for a single instant the whole landscape, as well as the interior of the building, and at the same instant came a deafening crash, such as might occur were the universe suddenly to crumble into ruin. So near was the lightning that I really fancied (if itwasfancy and not fact after all) I could feel it scorch my cheek, and there could be no doubt whatever about the strong sulphurous smell which pervaded the atmosphere.Again and yet again flashed forth the terrible lightning, crash on crash came the thunder, and then the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and the rain came rushing down in a perfect torrent.I expected nothing less than to be speedily flooded out, but fortunately the roof of the hut proved weather-tight, and the rain happening to beat upon the back of the house, in which were no openings, the interior of the place remained perfectly dry.I took advantage of the frequent lightning-flashes to survey the interior of my place of shelter, which I ascertained to be entirely devoid of furniture of every kind, there being absolutely nothing in the place except a heap of wood in one corner, composed of dry twigs and branches, probably gathered from the adjacent forest.I stood in the doorway for some time, watching the magnificent spectacle of the storm, until an increasing sensation of fatigue reminded me of the desirability of resting while I had the opportunity. I accordingly fixed upon a spot which seemed tolerably free from the eddies of wind which found easy access to the building, and first, by some strange instinct for which I cannot account, concealing the bag in which were the despatches among the wood stacked in the corner, placed my back against the wall, and folding my arms soon dropped off into a deep sleep, lulled thereto by the sound of the pouring rain upon the root.I seemed to have been asleep but a few minutes, when I became conscious of an odour of burning pine; then through my still-closed eyelids I perceived that the hut was lighted up. I heard the crackling sound of the blazing torch, and, as consciousness fully returned, I also heard voices speaking in a low tone in French.“Are you quite certain this is he? Why, he is a mere lad!” I heard a voice exclaim.“Quite sure, noble signor,” replied another voice, gruff, harsh, and repellent. “I could see plainly, though the night was dark; I had been watching the approach of the boat, and had been lying so long concealed in the darkest part of the ruins that my eyes had grown thoroughly accustomed to the gloom, so that when I followed this one and the other to the road, it seemed quite light. Moreover, they both passed close to me as I was making my way through the trees towards the road, and I saw their faces distinctly enough to recognise them both again wherever I might meet them. I never forget a face I have once seen,” the voice added in a sinister tone.“Umph!” ejaculated the first voice. “I can scarcely credit that the English captain would be fool enough to entrust important despatches to so young an officer. Poor lad! how soundly he sleeps; he must have lost his way and been wandering aimlessly about in the wood. By-the-way, did you hear him say where he had secreted those same despatches?”“No, signor, I did not; but he had a bag with him when he landed, no doubt they are in that.”“A bag? What sort of a bag? I see no bag here anywhere. Perhaps—look here, Monsieur Guiseppe, or whatever your name is, I hope you are not playing fast and loose with us. You have not stolen the bag and handed over the despatches to some of your own people, claiming a reward for the safe conveyance of such important documents, eh?”“Stolen? For what does your mightiness take me?”“For a traitor, my good fellow—nay, no occasion to snatch at your knife in that threatening fashion; it is dangerous, for I am a hasty man, and apt to use these without much reflection,” and I heard the click of a pistol-lock. “I am sorry if I have wounded your delicate sense of honour, but when a man sells his own countrymen for gold, one is a little—just a trifle, you know—apt to be suspicious of him.”“A manmustlive,” responded the churlish voice. “I have a wife and children to feed and clothe, and no man would employ me. If I have turned traitor, it is because I have been driven to it.”“No doubt, no doubt,” remarked the other speaker in a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. “The good Corsicans, your fellow-countrymen, have perhaps been weak enough to allow your slightly singular cast of countenance to prejudice them against you, eh? Well, I really cannot blame them; you must yourself admit that it is the reverse of prepossessing.”“I am as God made me,” growled the traitorous Corsican.“Say rather, as the devil and your own evil passions made you,” retorted the Frenchman. “Do not libel your Creator by attributing to Him any share in the work of moulding a visage whereon the words ‘treachery, avarice, theft, and murder’ are printed in large capitals. You may possibly have been born simply ugly, but your present hang-dog cast of countenance is entirely your own handiwork, my good friend Guiseppe. Nowpraydo not fumble at your knife again, that is an excessively bad habit which you have contracted; take my advice and break it off. If you do not, it will assuredly get you into serious trouble some day.”The individual thus addressed muttered some inaudible reply, which sounded, however, very much like an imprecation, to which his tormentor responded with a gay laugh. Then I heard the door creak upon its solitary hinge and scrape along the ground, as it was dragged open, and the voice of the Frenchman said, addressing some one outside,—“Well, Pierre, how are things in general looking by this time?”“Much better,mon sergent” replied another voice. “The rain has ceased, the clouds are dispersing, and yonder appears the first gleam of daybreak.”“That is well,” remarked the sergeant. “We will wait another half-hour, by which time it will be light enough to see where we are going, and then we must march once more.”The door creaked-to again; I heard a sound as of some one settling himself comfortably, and then all was once more silent, save for the sound of heavy breathing, of which I had been cognisant all through the foregoing conversation.I had been fully awakened, as may easily be supposed, by almost the first words which I had distinctly heard; but I had presence of mind enough not to give any indication of the fact. It was clear that this rascally Corsican—who appeared to be regularly in league with the enemy—had unfortunately witnessed my landing, and he must also have overhead and understood much if not all of the conversation which had passed between Rawlings and myself. And it seemed equally clear that he had put the Frenchmen upon my track, and that to him I was chiefly indebted for my unlucky capture—for of course Iwasa prisoner, though they had not roused me to make me acquainted with the fact. As soon as the conversation ceased, I rapidly turned the circumstances over in my mind, and decided upon two things, one of which was to keep secret my knowledge of the French language, and the other, to act upon the idea suggested by the sergeant’s words, and lead him to believe that my bag with the despatches had been stolen from me. For the rest, I was unable to form any plan, my original one of passing for a German art student being completely knocked on the head by the Corsican’s discovery; so I resolved to be governed by the turn which events might take.On one thing I was resolved, and that was to keep careful watch for an opportunity to escape, as I was in imminent risk of being hanged or shot at any moment, so long as I remained a prisoner.Notwithstanding my anxiety, I was dozing off once more, when footsteps approached me, a hand was laid on my shoulder, and the voice of the sergeant exclaimed in French, “Hallo, here! awake, my young friend, awake!”I opened my eyes with a start, and saw standing before me a young man of about four-and-twenty years of age. He was dressed in the uniform of a French regiment of the line—blue tunic, red trowsers with a stripe of yellow braid down the seam, red forage cap trimmed with the same, and his sword buckled close up to his belt. He had dark hair and eyes, the latter of which beamed upon me good-naturedly, and he had a pleasant expression of countenance, which afforded me much comfort.Seated or reclining in more or less uncomfortable attitudes against the walls of the hut were some five-and-twenty men wearing a similar uniform, their muskets being piled in the middle of the room; while, apart from the rest, was a man standing with his back towards me, gazing abstractedly out of the window. He was dressed in the ordinary Corsican garb, and was leaning upon a long-barrelled musket, the butt of which rested upon the floor, his hands being crossed upon the muzzle of the barrel, and his chin resting upon them.“Good morning!” said I in English to the sergeant, as I struggled to my feet; “who are you, pray, and where have you come from?”“Approach, most amiable Guiseppe, and lend us your valuable aid as interpreter,” said the sergeant, turning to the Corsican; “and see, my friend, that you interpret correctly. What was it he said?”The Corsican, whose brutal and sinister countenance fully justified the sergeant’s previous remarks upon it, translated my salutation into excellent French.“Tell him,” said the sergeant, “that you saw him land, and overheard sufficient of his conversation with his fellow-officer to satisfy you that he is the bearer of despatches from the English to one of your countrymen; that you betrayed him, and that I and my men were in consequence sent out to scour the country in search of him. Tell him also that, being found, he may make up his mind to be hanged before sunset; or—no, do not say anything about the hanging at present, he will know all about that soon enough, poor lad!”The rascal translated this speech in a manner to suit himself; that is, he said never a word concerning his own treachery, but to make up for the omission he included that part which had reference to my probable speedy fate.Of course I had learned pretty much all this in the first conversation between him and the sergeant; it was no news to me, but it terribly confirmed the surmises which had suggested themselves to my mind when I first became conscious that I was a prisoner. There was a single ray of hope, it is true, to which I clung, but it was by no means bright. I was evidently to be taken before his commanding officer, and I would acquaint him with the fact of my being a British officer, and claim to be treated as a prisoner of war. But then there was the ugly fact of my being in plain clothes—how was that to be got over? There was of course the shadow of a possibility that I might get out of my difficulties, could I but fabricate a sufficiently ingenious string of falsehoods; but now that it actually came to the point, I could not bring myself to the depths of meanness and cowardice which this involved. I had learned at school the maxim that “liars never prosper,” and my dear old father had taught me to avoid falsehood from much higher considerations than those of mere temporal prosperity. I determined therefore that, whatever the danger, I would not endeavour to shield myself by anything so despicable as a lie.In the meantime it was no use to be down-hearted over my misfortune, that would only tend to make matters worse instead of better; besides which, I had no notion of showing my enemies that I was disheartened or apprehensive; so I brightened up, and assuming a great deal more nonchalance than I felt, I directed the Corsican to inquire our destination, and also to say that I hoped we should breakfast before starting, as I felt frightfully hungry.He interpreted my question, adding that, as he supposed the sergeant could find his way back to Ajaccio without assistance, he would now leave us, as he had several matters requiring his immediate attention. Before going, however, he trusted that the sergeant would pay him the reward promised in case of my capture, or give him a note to the colonel, certifying that he had duly performed his contract.The sergeant seemed rather surprised at the proposal; beyond expressing, however, an ironical regret that the party was to be deprived of Master Guiseppe’s entertaining society, he made no demur, and drawing an old letter from his pocket he scribbled in pencil on the inner side of the envelope the required certificate, which he handed over to the Corsican with the remark,—“There you are, most glorious Apollo; take care of it, for it is worthmorethan you are likely to honestly earn for many a year to come. Will you stay and have some breakfast? No? Well, good-bye then for the present; I dare say we shall meet again.”“Assuredly, signor, and not long hence, I trust. For breakfast I have all I require with me, and I shall eat as I travel, since time is precious with me, and I wish to get a lift as far as Ajaccio in one or other of the market carts.Au revoir!”The Corsican flung his musket over his shoulder as he spoke, and, thrusting the certificate into his ammunition pouch, strode out of the hut and disappeared, just as one of the men entered with a pot of hot coffee, which had been prepared outside.Upon this the sergeant produced some bread and meat from his wallet, and drawing forth a knife divided it into two equal parts, one of which he offered me, saying,—“Come,mon enfant, eat and be merry while you have the opportunity. We have a long tramp before us, and for you there is probably a still longer journey afterwards; still, do not let that spoil your appetite. We cannot understand each other, but I am sorry for you,pauvre garçon! and we may as well be friends for the short time that remains.”He offered me his hand, as he said this, which I shook heartily.The speech was by no means calculated to raise my spirits, but I took pains to conceal my knowledge of its import, hoping that my supposed ignorance of the language would cause the men to speak unrestrainedly to each other, and perhaps let fall some piece of information of value, should I see a chance to make my escape.We fell to at our breakfast, for which, strange to say, I had a very tolerable appetite, notwithstanding the disastrous turn which my affairs had taken, and the soldiers, producing what provisions they had, also set their teeth to work upon them with a will, laughing and chattering gaily together meanwhile, but without letting drop any information likely to help me out of my difficulty.Breakfast over, the men fell in. I was placed in the centre of the body, the sergeant giving instructions to those having my more immediate custody to shoot me on the instant, should I make any attempt to escape. The word was given to march, and we tramped away across the moor for about a couple of miles, when we struck upon a beaten track, into which we turned, and which I learned from a remark made by one of the men was the road to Ajaccio.

I was now fairly embarked upon my adventure, the various difficulties of which seemed suddenly to present themselves to my mind in all their formidable reality. While safe on board the frigate, surrounded by my shipmates, they had appeared to be the veriest trifles, scarcely worth a serious thought; but now that I stood alone in an enemy’s country, with nothing to depend upon but my own sagacity and nerve, I saw in an instant—as though the truth had been revealed by a lightning-flash—that I had indeed undertaken a task, the successful performance of which would tax to their utmost extent every one of the qualities for which the skipper had given me credit.

However, I was now irretrievably in for it; there was no possibility of backing out, had I been ever so inclined—but I was not; I would have died first—so pulling myself together, and conquering by a strong effort a curious quaky sensation which had for a moment oppressed me, I set out upon my journey.

The spot to which I was bound was a chateau situated about eighteen miles inland, in the very heart of the mountain district. It was the property of Count Lorenzo Paoli, the brother of the General Paoli who, at the head of the Corsican insurgents, was then endeavouring to drive the French out of the island. My despatches—or whatever they were—were for Count Lorenzo; and though I was of course unacquainted with their contents, I surmised that they had relation to some probable assistance to be rendered by the English to the Corsicans. Under ordinary circumstances my mission would have been extremely easy of accomplishment; but, as I have already remarked, the island was in a thoroughly unsettled state, almost every male inhabitant being in arms.

The French, irritated by the rising of the Corsicans, and imbued with that feeling of cold-blooded and demoniacal ferocity which developed itself during the Reign of Terror, rendering that period of French history for ever infamous, were of course those from whom I had most to fear. But the Corsicans, their naturally excitable temperament raised to frenzy by the atrocities of the French, rendered suspicious by frequent treachery, and impetuously rushing into a system of the most hideous reprisals, were almost equally dangerous, their creed being that he who was not with them must necessarily be against them; and their proceedings with regard to suspected persons were rumoured to be of the most summary character. Lastly, there were the brigands, composed principally of the very dregs of Corsican society, a community made up of all the criminality in the island, thieves, murderers, escaped convicts, and outcasts of every description, utterly destitute of the faintest spark of honour, patriotism,orhumanity, preying upon friend and foe alike, and outstripping both in deeds of fiendish cruelty. As I thought these matters over, it seemed to me that my only safety lay in the most careful avoidance of every human eye, pursuing my journey during the dead of night, and lyingperduthroughout the day.

A walk of two or three hundred yards along the main road brought me to the “turning-off” on the right, which I was directed to follow in order to gain the chateau. It appeared to be quite a by-road, so narrow that there seemed scarcely room for two vehicles to pass, and it was in a most wretched condition, the surface being ploughed into deep broad ruts, and completely cut up by the feet of cattle.

It led apparently through the heart of an extensive forest, the trees of which, uniting their branches overhead, must have veiled the way in semi-obscurity even at noon-day. When I turned into it—at about two o’clock a.m.—the starlit sky gave just sufficient light to enable me to pursue my way along the main road; but by the time I had penetrated a couple of hundred yards into this by-path, I was enveloped in a perfectly Egyptian darkness. By degrees, however, my vision became accustomed to the gloom, and I stumbled on over the uneven ground for a distance of some twelve miles, when daylight began to appear through the leafy canopy overhead, and prudence suggested to me the desirability of forthwith seeking some safe hiding-place wherein to pass the day and take that repose of which I was beginning to feel the need. I therefore turned off the road and plunged into the forest for about a quarter of a mile, when I came upon a dense and almost impenetrable thicket which seemed admirably suited to my purpose; I accordingly forced my way into it until I found a spot of clear ground wide enough to stretch myself upon comfortably, when flinging myself upon the turf, and placing my bag beneath my head, I almost immediately dropped off into a deep and dreamless slumber.

It was just three o’clock in the afternoon when I awoke. My somewhat unwonted exertions of the previous night had greatly fatigued me, and I should probably have slept on until darkness had once more returned, had it not been for a wandering sun-ray which had found its way through the branches overhead, and, shining directly in my face, had awakened me. I awoke stiff, ravenously hungry, and parched with thirst. I had had the forethought to provide against an inopportune attack of the former feeling, by putting a biscuit or two in my pocket; but in the excitement of coming away I had omitted—as I now found to my chagrin—to bring my flask with me. I accordingly brought out my biscuits, and endeavoured to make a meal of them alone, but they were, like all biscuits, dry, and my throat was so parched that I found I could scarcely swallow a mouthful. While struggling with this little difficulty a faint breeze brought to my ear a sound which I decided must be the rushing of a distant stream over its rocky bed, and thinking of nothing at the moment so much as my intense thirst, I sprang to my feet, and seizing my bag, set out in the direction from which the sound appeared to come.

My progress was anything but rapid, the ground being entirely overgrown with creepers and thick shrubs, but that I was proceeding in the right direction was satisfactorily demonstrated by the increasing distinctness with which I could hear the sound of the rushing water.

My exertions in the close and stifling atmosphere of the wood soon made me uncomfortably warm, at the same time increasing my thirst to an almost unbearable degree, but there was nothing for it but patience, so I pushed on, panting and perspiring, as rapidly as it was possible for me to get over the ground. As I continued to advance, the sound increased in volume, though it still appeared to come from a considerable distance, and I at length came to the conclusion that it was not caused so much by the rush of the river over its bed as by the fall of the water down a cataract. The surmise eventually proved to be correct, for after an hour and a half of severe exertion, the latter half-hour of which I had been journeying over steeply-rising ground, I found myself beside a considerable stream, the waters of which, about a hundred yards higher up, came foaming and tumbling down from a height of some fifty feet, through a deep cleft in the face of the rock, into a deep, transparent pool, from whence they passed away over a rocky bed, and wound out of sight among the trees.

It was a lovely spot upon which I had thus stumbled. The ground rose abruptly on both sides of the stream; that on the opposite side being a rocky precipice, the strata of variously-coloured stone twisted and contorted in the most extraordinary manner, geraniums of various hues growing out from between the interstices of the rock, and the summit of the precipice crowned with a rich profusion of trailing creepers, some of which, notwithstanding the time of year, were in blossom, and the perfume of which scented the air.

Round the mossy rim of the basin into which the waters fell, and which appeared to be always damp with spray, grew a profusion of exquisitely delicate ferns; the sward beyond was thickly starred with a species of double daisy and the elegant hyacinth, and enclosing all was the pine wood through which I had been travelling.

The beauties of the place, however, had no attraction for me until I had in some measure assuaged my burning thirst, which I did by going down upon my hands and knees on a convenient rock, and plunging my heated face into the cool, pellucid water. I was careful to drink at first with extreme moderation, and then, having satisfied the first sharp craving for a draught, I stripped and plunged in, treating myself to as thorough an ablution as was possible in the absence of my cake of old brown Windsor. Refreshed and invigorated with the bath, I at length emerged, and dressing with all expedition, sat down to discuss my biscuits, which I disposed of to the last mouthful, gazing admiringly upon my surroundings meanwhile.

My meal finished, it became necessary for me to set out forthwith in search of the road which was to guide me to my destination. I had no intention whatever of retracing my steps over the ground already traversed. In the first place, I was exceedingly doubtful whether I could find my way back to the spot from which I had started, and in the next, I considered that it would be simply a waste of time and strength. I had not been altogether unmindful of the course I was steering while seeking for the river, and I was of opinion that though I had been travelling rather away from the road, if anything, yet on the whole my course had been pretty much in its direction. In order to regain it, therefore, all that seemed necessary was to make my way in a direction about at right angles with my former course.

I accordingly edged away in what I judged to be the right direction, choosing my ground, however, more with a view to easy than to direct progress. I estimated that it would occupy about an hour, or perhaps an hour and a half—certainly not more—to regain the road, and as I was anxious to do this before it became quite dark, I pushed rapidly forward, and the wood growing somewhat more open as I proceeded, with less undergrowth, I made very fair progress.

The hour which I had allowed myself passed, and still there was no sign of the road. I felt sure, however, that it could not be far away, and at all events I was going in the right direction, the ground rising continuously, so I carried on under a heavy press of sail, expecting every moment to emerge into the beaten track, and growing increasingly anxious to do so as I noted the rapidity with which darkness was falling upon the scene, notwithstanding the fact that the trees were by this time so far apart and the ground so clear that walking was as easy as it would have been on the road itself. In this state of mingled hope and anxiety I hurried on for another hour, still without hitting upon the road; by which time it had become so dark that I grew fearful of losing my way. The stars had appeared, and shone brilliantly, their light, however, being insufficient to enable me to see where I was going; so after stumbling on over the uneven ground for a quarter of an hour longer, during which I experienced more than one awkward tumble, the conclusion forced itself upon me that I had strayed somewhat from the right direction, and had better defer until the next morning any further effort to discover the lost road.

Having arrived at this conclusion, my next business was to find a tolerably comfortable spot in which to bestow myself for the night. While searching for this, I quite unexpectedly reached the edge of the wood, and in another minute stood beyond its boundary, finding myself upon a broad expanse of rugged, open moorland, at the farther extremity of which the ground again rose steeply until it terminated in what was evidently the ridge of the mountain-chain running north and south through the island.

Two circumstances struck me at the same moment on emerging into the open, one of which was that a heavy thunder-storm was rapidly working up against the wind, the other being that a hut or hovel of some sort stood about half a mile distant.

The question immediately arose in my mind whether I should approach this building, upon the chance of obtaining a night’s lodging therein, or whether it would be more prudent to pass the night and brave the gathering storm in the open. I might of course have returned to the comparative shelter of the wood, but I should have been obliged to penetrate it for some distance before it would be thick enough to afford me the slightest protection from the deluge of rain which was coming up in those black and threatening clouds, and, in addition to this, I felt that, while only inadequately sheltered from the rain, I should be exposed to the very serious danger of being struck by lightning. Then again, it was possible that the hut might be deserted, in which case I need have no hesitation about availing myself of its shelter. There was of course, on the other hand, a chance of its being inhabited, but if so, its occupant would probably be no one more dangerous than a simple herd or wood-cutter, and it was not from such that I had anything to fear. As I stood irresolute, turning these matters over in my mind, a vivid flash of lightning, followed, after a pause of some seconds, by the long reverberating roll of distant thunder, reminded me of the desirability of coming to a decision, one way or another, without delay; I accordingly made up my mind to risk going to the hut, rather than remain exposed to the storm.

I therefore hurried forward, the lightning meanwhile flashing out more and more vividly, and at shorter intervals; the thunder sounding louder and nearer at every discharge; and the vast curtain of cloud spreading rapidly athwart the sky, obliterating the stars, and enveloping nature in a pall of awful gloom.

On approaching the hut, it became apparent that it was uninhabited, for the door hung pendent from one hinge, the other being wrenched off, while of the two small windows which admitted light to the interior, one sash was gone altogether, the aperture being completely denuded of every vestige of woodwork, while the other was protected only by a battered and weather-stained wooden shutter. The edifice itself was constructed of sods, the roof being roughly framed together with branches—no doubt lopped from the trees of the neighbouring wood—and thatched.

I reached the building only just in time. While yet a hundred yards or so from it, the cool night-breeze dropped all in a moment, and was succeeded by a hushed and breathless calm. An awful silence suddenly fell upon nature, the myriad insect voices became mute, the night-birds ceased to utter their melancholy cries, the sighing of the wind through the trees of the distant wood was no longer heard; a hush of dread expectancy ensued. A few seconds elapsed, and then a mysterious murmur filled the air, the trees swayed and tossed their branches wildly for a moment, a fierce gust of hot air swept past, and all was still again. I dashed forward and reached the doorway, and as I passed across the threshold, the canopy of cloud overhead was rent open, a blinding flash of livid lightning blazed out, illumining for a single instant the whole landscape, as well as the interior of the building, and at the same instant came a deafening crash, such as might occur were the universe suddenly to crumble into ruin. So near was the lightning that I really fancied (if itwasfancy and not fact after all) I could feel it scorch my cheek, and there could be no doubt whatever about the strong sulphurous smell which pervaded the atmosphere.

Again and yet again flashed forth the terrible lightning, crash on crash came the thunder, and then the flood-gates of heaven were opened, and the rain came rushing down in a perfect torrent.

I expected nothing less than to be speedily flooded out, but fortunately the roof of the hut proved weather-tight, and the rain happening to beat upon the back of the house, in which were no openings, the interior of the place remained perfectly dry.

I took advantage of the frequent lightning-flashes to survey the interior of my place of shelter, which I ascertained to be entirely devoid of furniture of every kind, there being absolutely nothing in the place except a heap of wood in one corner, composed of dry twigs and branches, probably gathered from the adjacent forest.

I stood in the doorway for some time, watching the magnificent spectacle of the storm, until an increasing sensation of fatigue reminded me of the desirability of resting while I had the opportunity. I accordingly fixed upon a spot which seemed tolerably free from the eddies of wind which found easy access to the building, and first, by some strange instinct for which I cannot account, concealing the bag in which were the despatches among the wood stacked in the corner, placed my back against the wall, and folding my arms soon dropped off into a deep sleep, lulled thereto by the sound of the pouring rain upon the root.

I seemed to have been asleep but a few minutes, when I became conscious of an odour of burning pine; then through my still-closed eyelids I perceived that the hut was lighted up. I heard the crackling sound of the blazing torch, and, as consciousness fully returned, I also heard voices speaking in a low tone in French.

“Are you quite certain this is he? Why, he is a mere lad!” I heard a voice exclaim.

“Quite sure, noble signor,” replied another voice, gruff, harsh, and repellent. “I could see plainly, though the night was dark; I had been watching the approach of the boat, and had been lying so long concealed in the darkest part of the ruins that my eyes had grown thoroughly accustomed to the gloom, so that when I followed this one and the other to the road, it seemed quite light. Moreover, they both passed close to me as I was making my way through the trees towards the road, and I saw their faces distinctly enough to recognise them both again wherever I might meet them. I never forget a face I have once seen,” the voice added in a sinister tone.

“Umph!” ejaculated the first voice. “I can scarcely credit that the English captain would be fool enough to entrust important despatches to so young an officer. Poor lad! how soundly he sleeps; he must have lost his way and been wandering aimlessly about in the wood. By-the-way, did you hear him say where he had secreted those same despatches?”

“No, signor, I did not; but he had a bag with him when he landed, no doubt they are in that.”

“A bag? What sort of a bag? I see no bag here anywhere. Perhaps—look here, Monsieur Guiseppe, or whatever your name is, I hope you are not playing fast and loose with us. You have not stolen the bag and handed over the despatches to some of your own people, claiming a reward for the safe conveyance of such important documents, eh?”

“Stolen? For what does your mightiness take me?”

“For a traitor, my good fellow—nay, no occasion to snatch at your knife in that threatening fashion; it is dangerous, for I am a hasty man, and apt to use these without much reflection,” and I heard the click of a pistol-lock. “I am sorry if I have wounded your delicate sense of honour, but when a man sells his own countrymen for gold, one is a little—just a trifle, you know—apt to be suspicious of him.”

“A manmustlive,” responded the churlish voice. “I have a wife and children to feed and clothe, and no man would employ me. If I have turned traitor, it is because I have been driven to it.”

“No doubt, no doubt,” remarked the other speaker in a somewhat sarcastic tone of voice. “The good Corsicans, your fellow-countrymen, have perhaps been weak enough to allow your slightly singular cast of countenance to prejudice them against you, eh? Well, I really cannot blame them; you must yourself admit that it is the reverse of prepossessing.”

“I am as God made me,” growled the traitorous Corsican.

“Say rather, as the devil and your own evil passions made you,” retorted the Frenchman. “Do not libel your Creator by attributing to Him any share in the work of moulding a visage whereon the words ‘treachery, avarice, theft, and murder’ are printed in large capitals. You may possibly have been born simply ugly, but your present hang-dog cast of countenance is entirely your own handiwork, my good friend Guiseppe. Nowpraydo not fumble at your knife again, that is an excessively bad habit which you have contracted; take my advice and break it off. If you do not, it will assuredly get you into serious trouble some day.”

The individual thus addressed muttered some inaudible reply, which sounded, however, very much like an imprecation, to which his tormentor responded with a gay laugh. Then I heard the door creak upon its solitary hinge and scrape along the ground, as it was dragged open, and the voice of the Frenchman said, addressing some one outside,—

“Well, Pierre, how are things in general looking by this time?”

“Much better,mon sergent” replied another voice. “The rain has ceased, the clouds are dispersing, and yonder appears the first gleam of daybreak.”

“That is well,” remarked the sergeant. “We will wait another half-hour, by which time it will be light enough to see where we are going, and then we must march once more.”

The door creaked-to again; I heard a sound as of some one settling himself comfortably, and then all was once more silent, save for the sound of heavy breathing, of which I had been cognisant all through the foregoing conversation.

I had been fully awakened, as may easily be supposed, by almost the first words which I had distinctly heard; but I had presence of mind enough not to give any indication of the fact. It was clear that this rascally Corsican—who appeared to be regularly in league with the enemy—had unfortunately witnessed my landing, and he must also have overhead and understood much if not all of the conversation which had passed between Rawlings and myself. And it seemed equally clear that he had put the Frenchmen upon my track, and that to him I was chiefly indebted for my unlucky capture—for of course Iwasa prisoner, though they had not roused me to make me acquainted with the fact. As soon as the conversation ceased, I rapidly turned the circumstances over in my mind, and decided upon two things, one of which was to keep secret my knowledge of the French language, and the other, to act upon the idea suggested by the sergeant’s words, and lead him to believe that my bag with the despatches had been stolen from me. For the rest, I was unable to form any plan, my original one of passing for a German art student being completely knocked on the head by the Corsican’s discovery; so I resolved to be governed by the turn which events might take.

On one thing I was resolved, and that was to keep careful watch for an opportunity to escape, as I was in imminent risk of being hanged or shot at any moment, so long as I remained a prisoner.

Notwithstanding my anxiety, I was dozing off once more, when footsteps approached me, a hand was laid on my shoulder, and the voice of the sergeant exclaimed in French, “Hallo, here! awake, my young friend, awake!”

I opened my eyes with a start, and saw standing before me a young man of about four-and-twenty years of age. He was dressed in the uniform of a French regiment of the line—blue tunic, red trowsers with a stripe of yellow braid down the seam, red forage cap trimmed with the same, and his sword buckled close up to his belt. He had dark hair and eyes, the latter of which beamed upon me good-naturedly, and he had a pleasant expression of countenance, which afforded me much comfort.

Seated or reclining in more or less uncomfortable attitudes against the walls of the hut were some five-and-twenty men wearing a similar uniform, their muskets being piled in the middle of the room; while, apart from the rest, was a man standing with his back towards me, gazing abstractedly out of the window. He was dressed in the ordinary Corsican garb, and was leaning upon a long-barrelled musket, the butt of which rested upon the floor, his hands being crossed upon the muzzle of the barrel, and his chin resting upon them.

“Good morning!” said I in English to the sergeant, as I struggled to my feet; “who are you, pray, and where have you come from?”

“Approach, most amiable Guiseppe, and lend us your valuable aid as interpreter,” said the sergeant, turning to the Corsican; “and see, my friend, that you interpret correctly. What was it he said?”

The Corsican, whose brutal and sinister countenance fully justified the sergeant’s previous remarks upon it, translated my salutation into excellent French.

“Tell him,” said the sergeant, “that you saw him land, and overheard sufficient of his conversation with his fellow-officer to satisfy you that he is the bearer of despatches from the English to one of your countrymen; that you betrayed him, and that I and my men were in consequence sent out to scour the country in search of him. Tell him also that, being found, he may make up his mind to be hanged before sunset; or—no, do not say anything about the hanging at present, he will know all about that soon enough, poor lad!”

The rascal translated this speech in a manner to suit himself; that is, he said never a word concerning his own treachery, but to make up for the omission he included that part which had reference to my probable speedy fate.

Of course I had learned pretty much all this in the first conversation between him and the sergeant; it was no news to me, but it terribly confirmed the surmises which had suggested themselves to my mind when I first became conscious that I was a prisoner. There was a single ray of hope, it is true, to which I clung, but it was by no means bright. I was evidently to be taken before his commanding officer, and I would acquaint him with the fact of my being a British officer, and claim to be treated as a prisoner of war. But then there was the ugly fact of my being in plain clothes—how was that to be got over? There was of course the shadow of a possibility that I might get out of my difficulties, could I but fabricate a sufficiently ingenious string of falsehoods; but now that it actually came to the point, I could not bring myself to the depths of meanness and cowardice which this involved. I had learned at school the maxim that “liars never prosper,” and my dear old father had taught me to avoid falsehood from much higher considerations than those of mere temporal prosperity. I determined therefore that, whatever the danger, I would not endeavour to shield myself by anything so despicable as a lie.

In the meantime it was no use to be down-hearted over my misfortune, that would only tend to make matters worse instead of better; besides which, I had no notion of showing my enemies that I was disheartened or apprehensive; so I brightened up, and assuming a great deal more nonchalance than I felt, I directed the Corsican to inquire our destination, and also to say that I hoped we should breakfast before starting, as I felt frightfully hungry.

He interpreted my question, adding that, as he supposed the sergeant could find his way back to Ajaccio without assistance, he would now leave us, as he had several matters requiring his immediate attention. Before going, however, he trusted that the sergeant would pay him the reward promised in case of my capture, or give him a note to the colonel, certifying that he had duly performed his contract.

The sergeant seemed rather surprised at the proposal; beyond expressing, however, an ironical regret that the party was to be deprived of Master Guiseppe’s entertaining society, he made no demur, and drawing an old letter from his pocket he scribbled in pencil on the inner side of the envelope the required certificate, which he handed over to the Corsican with the remark,—

“There you are, most glorious Apollo; take care of it, for it is worthmorethan you are likely to honestly earn for many a year to come. Will you stay and have some breakfast? No? Well, good-bye then for the present; I dare say we shall meet again.”

“Assuredly, signor, and not long hence, I trust. For breakfast I have all I require with me, and I shall eat as I travel, since time is precious with me, and I wish to get a lift as far as Ajaccio in one or other of the market carts.Au revoir!”

The Corsican flung his musket over his shoulder as he spoke, and, thrusting the certificate into his ammunition pouch, strode out of the hut and disappeared, just as one of the men entered with a pot of hot coffee, which had been prepared outside.

Upon this the sergeant produced some bread and meat from his wallet, and drawing forth a knife divided it into two equal parts, one of which he offered me, saying,—

“Come,mon enfant, eat and be merry while you have the opportunity. We have a long tramp before us, and for you there is probably a still longer journey afterwards; still, do not let that spoil your appetite. We cannot understand each other, but I am sorry for you,pauvre garçon! and we may as well be friends for the short time that remains.”

He offered me his hand, as he said this, which I shook heartily.

The speech was by no means calculated to raise my spirits, but I took pains to conceal my knowledge of its import, hoping that my supposed ignorance of the language would cause the men to speak unrestrainedly to each other, and perhaps let fall some piece of information of value, should I see a chance to make my escape.

We fell to at our breakfast, for which, strange to say, I had a very tolerable appetite, notwithstanding the disastrous turn which my affairs had taken, and the soldiers, producing what provisions they had, also set their teeth to work upon them with a will, laughing and chattering gaily together meanwhile, but without letting drop any information likely to help me out of my difficulty.

Breakfast over, the men fell in. I was placed in the centre of the body, the sergeant giving instructions to those having my more immediate custody to shoot me on the instant, should I make any attempt to escape. The word was given to march, and we tramped away across the moor for about a couple of miles, when we struck upon a beaten track, into which we turned, and which I learned from a remark made by one of the men was the road to Ajaccio.


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