Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War

Home > Literature > Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War > Page 51
Springhaven: A Tale of the Great War Page 51

by R. D. Blackmore


  CHAPTER LI

  STRANGE CRAFT

  While his love was lapsing from him thus, and from her own true self yetmore, the gallant young sailor, whose last prize had been that usefulone misfortune, was dwelling continually upon her image, because hehad very little else to do. English prisoners in France were treatedsometimes very badly, which they took good care to proclaim to Europe;but more often with pity, and good-will, and a pleasant study of theirmodes of thought. For an Englishman then was a strange and ever freshcuriosity to a Frenchman, a specimen of another race of bipeds, withdoubts whether marriage could make parentage between them. And a centuryof intercourse, good-will, and admiration has left us still inquisitiveabout each other.

  Napoleon felt such confidence in his plans for the conquest of Englandthat if any British officer belonging to the fleet in the narrow seaswas taken (which did not happen largely), he sent for him, upon hisarrival at Boulogne, and held a little talk with any one who couldunderstand and answer. He was especially pleased at hearing of thecapture of Blyth Scudamore (who had robbed him of his beloved Blonde),and at once restored Desportes to favour, which he had begun to dobefore, knowing as well as any man on earth the value of good officers."Bring your prisoner here to-morrow at twelve o'clock," was his order;"you have turned the tables upon him well."

  Scudamore felt a little nervous tingling as he passed through thesentries, with his friend before him, into the pavilion of the greatestman in Europe. But the Emperor, being in high good-humour, and pleasedwith the young man's modest face and gentle demeanour, soon set him athis ease, and spoke to him as affably as if he had been his equal. Forthis man of almost universal mind could win every heart, when he sethimself to do it. Scudamore rubbed his eyes, which was a trick of his,as if he could scarcely believe them. Napoleon looked--not insignificant(that was impossible for a man with such a countenance), but mild, andpleasing, and benevolent, as he walked to and fro, for he never couldstay still, in the place which was neither a tent nor a room, but amixture of the two, and not a happy one. His hat, looped up with adiamond and quivering with an ostrich feather, was flung anyhow upon thetable. But his wonderful eyes were the brightest thing there.

  "Ha! ha!" said the Emperor, a very keen judge of faces; "you expectedto find me a monster, as I am portrayed by your caricaturists. Yourcountrymen are not kind to me, except the foremost of them--the greatpoets. But they will understand me better by-and-by, when justiceprevails, and the blessings of peace, for which I am strivingperpetually. But the English nation, if it were allowed a voice, wouldproclaim me its only true friend and ally. You know that, if you are oneof the people, and not of the hateful House of Lords, which engrossesall the army and the navy. Are you in connection with the House ofLords?"

  Scudamore shook his head and smiled. He was anxious to say that he hada cousin, not more than twice removed, now an entire viscount; butNapoleon never encouraged conversation, unless it was his own, or inanswer to his questions.

  "Very well. Then you can speak the truth. What do they think of all thisgrand army? Are they aware that, for their own good, it will very soonoccupy London? Are they forming themselves to act as my allies, when Ihave reduced them to reason? Is it now made entirely familiar to theirminds that resistance to me is as hopeless as it has been from the firstunwise? If they would submit, without my crossing, it would save themsome disturbance, and me a great expense. I have often hoped to hear ofit."

  "You will never do that, sire," Scudamore answered, looking calmly andfirmly at the deep gray eyes, whose gaze could be met by none of themillions who dread passion; "England will not submit, even if youconquer her."

  "It is well said, and doubtless you believe it," Napoleon continued,with a smile so slight that to smile in reply to it would have beenimpertinent; "but England is the same as other nations, although themost obstinate among them. When her capital is occupied, her creditruined, her great lords unable to obtain a dinner, the government (whichis not the country) will yield, and the country must follow it. I haveheard that the King, and the Court, and the Parliament, talk offlying to the north, and there remaining, while the navy cuts off ourcommunications, and the inferior classes starve us. Have you heard ofany such romance as that?"

  "No, sire:" Scudamore scarcely knew what to call him, but adopted thisvocative for want of any better. "I have never heard of any suchplan, and no one would think of packing up, until our fleet has beendemolished."

  "Your fleet? Yes, yes. How many ships are now parading to and fro, andgetting very tired of it?"

  "Your Majesty's officers know that best," Scudamore answered, with hispleasant open smile. "I have been a prisoner for a month and more, andkept ten miles inland, out of sight of the sea."

  "But you have been well treated, I hope. You have no complaint to make,Monsieur Scutamour? Your name is French, and you speak the languagewell. We set the fair example in the treatment of brave men."

  "Sire, I have been treated," the young officer replied, with a low bow,and eyes full of gratitude, "as a gentleman amongst gentlemen. I mightsay as a friend among kind friends."

  "That is as it should be. It is my wish always. Few of your Englishfabrications annoy me more than the falsehoods about that. It is mostungenerous, when I do my best, to charge me with strangling braveEnglish captains. But Desportes fought well, before you took his vessel.Is it not so? Speak exactly as you think. I like to hear the enemy'saccount of every action."

  "Captain Desportes, sire, fought like a hero, and so did all his crew.It was only his mishap in sticking fast upon a sand-bank that enabled usto overpower him."

  "And now he has done the like to you. You speak with a brave man'scandour. You shall be at liberty to see the sea, monsieur; for a sailoralways pines for that. I will give full instructions to your friendDesportes about you. But one more question before you go--is there muchanxiety in England?"

  "Yes, sire, a great deal. But we hope not to allow your Majesty'sarmament to enter and increase it."

  "Ah, we shall see, we shall see how that will be. Now farewell, Captain.Tell Desportes to come to me."

  "Well, my dear friend, you have made a good impression," said the Frenchsailor, when he rejoined Scudamore, after a few words with the Master ofthe State; "all you have to do is to give your word of honour to avoidour lines, and keep away from the beach, and of course to have nocommunication with your friends upon military subjects. I am allowedto place you for the present at Beutin, a pleasant little hamlet onthe Canche, where lives an old relative of mine, a Monsieur Jalais, anancient widower, with a large house and one servant. I shall be afloat,and shall see but little of you, which is the only sad part of thebusiness. You will have to report yourself to your landlord at eightevery morning and at eight o'clock at night, and only to leave the housebetween those hours, and not to wander more than six miles from home.How do these conditions approve themselves to you?"

  "I call them very liberal, and very handsome," Scudamore answered, ashe well might do. "Two miles' range is all that we allow in England toFrench officers upon parole. These generous terms are due to your kindfriendship."

  Before very long the gentle Scuddy was as happy as a prisoner can expectto be, in his comfortable quarters at Beutin. Through friendly exchangeshe had received a loving letter from his mother, with an amiableenclosure, and M. Jalais being far from wealthy, a pleasant arrangementwas made between them. Scudamore took all his meals with his host, whocould manage sound victuals like an Englishman, and the house-keeper,house-cleaner, and house-feeder (misdescribed by Desportes as a servant,according to our distinctions), being a widow of mark, sat down toconsider her cookery upon choice occasions. Then for a long time wouldprevail a conscientious gravity, and reserve of judgment inwardly,everybody waiting for some other body's sentiments; until the author ofthe work, as a female, might no more abide the malignant silence of malereviewers.

  Scudamore, being very easily amused, as any good-natured young man is,entered with zest into all these doings, and became an
authority uponappeal; and being gifted with depth of simplicity as well as highcourtesy of taste, was never known to pronounce a wrong decision. Thatis to say, he decided always in favour of the lady, which has been themajestic course of Justice for centuries, till the appearance of Mrs.-----, the lady who should have married the great Home-Ruler.

  Thus the wily Scudamore obtained a sitting-room, with the prettiestoutlook in the house, or indeed in any house in that part of the worldfor many leagues of seeking. For the mansion of M. Jalais stood in anelbow of the little river, and one window of this room showed the curveof tidal water widening towards the sea, while the other pleasantly gaveeye to the upper reaches of the stream, where an angler of rose-colouredmind might almost hope to hook a trout. The sun glanced down the streamin the morning, and up it to see what he had done before he set; andalthough M. Jalais' trees were leafless now, they had sleeved their bentarms with green velvetry of moss.

  Scudamore brought his comfortable chair to the nook between thesewindows, and there, with a book or two belonging to his host, and thepipe whose silver clouds enthrone the gods of contemplation, many apleasant hour was passed, seldom invaded by the sounds of war. For thecourse of the roads, and sands of the river, kept this happy spot alooffrom bad communications. Like many other streams in northern France,the Canche had been deepened and its mouth improved, not for uses ofcommerce, but of warfare. Veteran soldier and raw recruit, bugler,baker, and farrier, man who came to fight and man who came to writeabout it, all had been turned into navvies, diggers, drivers of piles,or of horses, or wheelbarrows, by the man who turned everybody intohis own teetotum. The Providence that guides the world showed mercy insending that engine of destruction before there was a Railway for him torun upon.

  Now Scudamore being of a different sort, and therefore having pleasedNapoleon (who detested any one at all of his own pattern), might havebeen very well contented here, and certainly must have been so, if hehad been without those two windows. Many a bird has lost his nest, andhis eggs, and his mate, and even his own tail, by cocking his eyes tothe right and left, when he should have drawn their shutters up. Andwhy? Because the brilliance of his too projecting eyes has twinkledthrough the leaves upon the narrow oblong of the pupils of a spotty-eyedcat going stealthily under the comb of the hedge, with her stomach wiredin, and her spinal column fluted, to look like a wrinkled blackthornsnag. But still worse is it for that poor thrush, or lintie, or robin,or warbler-wren, if he flutters in his bosom when he spies that cat, andsets up his feathers, and begins to hop about, making a sad little chirpto his mate, and appealing to the sky to protect him and his family.

  Blyth Scudamore's case was a mixture of those two. It would have beenbetter for his comfort if he had shut his eyes; but having opened them,he should have stayed where he was, without any fluttering. However, heacted for the best; and when a man does that, can those who never do sofind a word to say against him?

  According to the best of his recollection, which was generally near themark, it was upon Christmas Eve, A.D. 1804, that his curiosity was firstaroused. He had made up his room to look a little bit like home, witha few sprigs of holly, and a sheaf of laurel, not placed daintily as alady dresses them, but as sprightly as a man can make them look, and asbright as a captive Christmas could expect. The decorator shed a littlesigh--if that expression may be pardoned by analogy, for he certainlyneither fetched nor heaved it--and then he lit his pipe to reflect uponhome blessings, and consider the free world outside, in which he hadvery little share at present.

  Mild blue eyes, such as this young man possessed, are oftenshort-sighted at a moderate range, and would be fitted up with glassesin these artificial times, and yet at long distance they are mostefficient, and can make out objects that would puzzle keener organs. Andso it was that Scudamore, with the sinking sun to help him, descried ata long distance down the tidal reach a peaceful-looking boat, which madehis heart beat faster. For a sailor's glance assured him that she wasEnglish--English in her rig and the stiff cut of her canvas, and in allthose points of character to a seaman so distinctive, which apprise himof his kindred through the length of air and water, as clearly as welandsmen know a man from a woman at the measure of a furlong, or aquarter of a mile. He perceived that it was an English pilot-boat, andthat she was standing towards him. At first his heart fluttered witha warm idea, that there must be good news for him on board that boat.Perhaps, without his knowledge, an exchange of prisoners might have beenagreed upon; and what a grand Christmas-box for him, if the order forhis release was there! But another thought showed him the absurdityof this hope, for orders of release do not come so. Nevertheless, hewatched that boat with interest and wonder.

  Presently, just as the sun was setting, and shadows crossed the water,the sail (which had been gleaming like a candle-flame against the hazeand upon the glaze) flickered and fell, and the bows swung round, andher figure was drawn upon the tideway. She was now within half a mileof M. Jalais' house, and Scudamore, though longing for a spy-glass, wasable to make out a good deal without one. He saw that she was anEnglish pilot-boat, undecked, but fitted with a cuddy forward, riggedluggerwise, and built for speed, yet fit to encounter almost any Channelsurges. She was light in the water, and bore little except ballast. Hecould not be sure at that distance, but he thought that the sailors mustbe Englishmen, especially the man at the helm, who was beyond reasonabledoubt the captain.

  Then two long sweeps were manned amidship, with two sturdy fellows totug at each; and the quiet evening air led through the soft rehearsal ofthe water to its banks the creak of tough ash thole-pins, and the groanof gunwale, and the splash of oars, and even a sound of human staple,such as is accepted by the civilized world as our national diapason.

  The captive Scuddy, who observed all this, was thoroughly puzzled atthat last turn. Though the craft was visibly English, the crew mightstill have been doubtful, if they had held their tongues, or kept themin submission. But that word stamped them, or at any rate the one whohad been struck in the breast by the heavy timber, as of genuine Britishbirth. Yet there was no sign that these men were prisoners, or acting bycompulsion. No French boat was near them, no batteries there commandedtheir course, and the pilot-boat carried no prize-crew to directreluctant labours. At the mouth of the river was a floating bridge, forthe use of the forces on either side, and no boat could have passed itwithout permission. Therefore these could be no venturesome Britons,spying out the quarters of the enemy; either they must have been allowedto pass for some special purpose, under flag of truce, or else theywere traitors, in league with the French, and despatched upon some darkerrand.

  In a few minutes, as the evening dusk began to deepen round her, themysterious little craft disappeared in a hollow of the uplands on theother side of the water, where a narrow creek or inlet--such asis called a "pill" in some parts of England--formed a shelteredlanding-place, overhung with clustering trees. Then Scudamore rose, andfilled another pipe, to meditate upon this strange affair. "I amjustly forbidden," he thought, as it grew dark, "to visit the camp, orendeavour to learn anything done by the army of invasion. And I havepledged myself to that effect. But this is a different case altogether.When Englishmen come here as traitors to their country, and in a placewell within my range, my duty is to learn the meaning of it; and ifI find treachery of importance working, then I must consider about myparole, and probably withdraw it. That would be a terrible blow to me,because I should certainly be sent far inland, and kept in a Frenchprison perhaps for years, with little chance of hearing from my friendsagain. And then she would give me up as lost, that faithful darling,who has put aside all her bright prospects for my sake. How I wish I hadnever seen that boat! and I thought it was coming to bring me such goodnews! I am bound to give them one day's grace, for they might notknow where to find me at once, and to-night I could not get near them,without overstaying my time to be in-doors. But if I hear nothingto-morrow, and see nothing, I must go round, so as not to be seen, andlearn something about her the very next mo
rning."

  Hearing nothing and seeing no more, he spent an uncomfortable ChristmasDay, disappointing his host and kind Madame Fropot, who had done allthey knew to enliven him with a genuine English plum-pudding. And thenext day, with a light foot but rather heavy heart, he made the longround by the bridge up-stream, and examined the creek which the Englishboat had entered. He approached the place very cautiously, knowing thatif his suspicions were correct, they might be confirmed too decisively,and his countrymen, if they had fire-arms, would give him a warmreception. However, there was no living creature to be seen, excepta poor terrified ox, who had escaped from the slaughter-houses of thedistant camp, and hoped for a little rest in this dark thicket. He wasworn out with his long flight and sadly wounded, for many men had shotat him, when he desired to save his life; and although his mouth waslittle more than the length of his tail from water, there he lay gaspingwith his lips stretched out, and his dry tongue quivering between hisyellow teeth, and the only moisture he could get was running out insteadof into his mouth.

  Scudamore, seeing that the coast was clear, and no enemy in chase ofthis poor creature, immediately filled his hat with fresh water--for thetide was out now, and the residue was sweet--and speaking very gently inthe English language, for he saw that he must have been hard-shoutedat in French, was allowed without any more disturbance of the system tosupply a little glad refreshment. The sorely afflicted animal licked hislips, and looked up for another hatful.

  Captain Scuddy deserved a new hat for this--though very few Englishmenwould not have done the like--and in the end he got it, though he musthave caught a bad cold if he had gone without a hat till then.

  Pursuing his search, with grateful eyes pursuing him, he soon discoveredwhere the boat had grounded, by the impress of her keel and forefoot onthe stiff retentive mud. He could even see where a hawser had been madefast to a staunch old trunk, and where the soil had been prodded witha pole in pushing her off at the turn of tide. Also deep tracks of somevery large hound, or wolf, or unknown quadruped, in various places,scarred the bank. And these marks were so fresh and bright that theymust have been made within the last few hours, probably when the lastebb began. If so, the mysterious craft had spent the whole of ChristmasDay in that snug berth; and he blamed himself for permitting his host'sfestivities to detain him. Then he took a few bearings to mark thespot, and fed the poor crippled ox with all the herbage he could gather,resolving to come with a rope to-morrow, and lead him home, if possible,as a Christmas present to M. Jalais.

 

‹ Prev