by G. A. Henty
Chapter 20: The Path Down The Heights.
As the midshipman crawled away from the tent of the French general, headopted the precautions which James had suggested, and felt the groundcarefully for twigs or sticks each time he moved. The still-glowingembers of the campfires warned him where the Indians and Canadians weresleeping, and, carefully avoiding these, he made his way up beyond thelimits of the camp. There were no sentries posted here, for the Frenchwere perfectly safe from attack from that quarter, and, once fairlybeyond the camp, the midshipman rose to his feet, and made his way tothe edge of the slopes above the Saint Lawrence. He walked for about amile, and then paused, on the very edge of the sharp declivity, andwhistled as agreed upon.
A hundred yards further, he repeated the signal. The fourth time hewhistled he heard, just below him, the answer, and a minute later JamesWalsham stood beside him.
"You young scamp, what are you doing here?"
"It was not my fault, Captain Walsham, it wasn't indeed; but I shouldhave been tomahawked if I had stayed there a moment longer."
"What do you mean by 'you would have been tomahawked,'" James askedangrily, for he was convinced that the midshipman had made up his mind,all along, to accompany him.
"The pilot of the Sutherland swam ashore, with the news that you hadbeen taken prisoner on purpose, and were really a spy."
"But how on earth did he know that?" James asked. "I took care the manwas not on deck, when we made the holes in the boat, and he does notunderstand a word of English, so he could not have overheard what themen said."
"I am sorry to say, sir, that it is a case of treachery, and that oneof our officers is concerned in it. The man said that an officerreleased him from his cell, and took him to his cabin, and then loweredhim by a rope through the porthole."
"Impossible!" James Walsham said.
"It sounds impossible, sir; but I am afraid it isn't, for the officergave him a note to bring to the general, telling him all about it, andthat note I have got in my pocket now."
The midshipman then related the whole circumstances of his discovery.
"It is an extraordinary affair," James said. "However, you arecertainly not to blame for making your escape when you did. You couldnot have got back into your tent till too late; and, even could youhave done so, it might have gone hard with you, for of course theywould have known that you were, what they would call an accomplice, inthe affair."
"I will go on if you like, sir," the boy said, "and hide somewhereelse, so that if they track me they will not find you."
"No, no," James said, "I don't think there's any fear of our beingtracked. Indian eyes are sharp; but they can't perform miracles. In theforest it would be hopeless to escape them, but here the grass is shortand the ground dry, and, without boots, we cannot have left any tracksthat would be followed, especially as bodies of French troops have beenmarching backwards and forwards along the edge of these heights for thelast fortnight. I won't say that it is impossible that they can findus, but it will not be by our tracks.
"Now, come down to this bush where I was lying. We will wait there tilldaylight breaks. It is as far down as I dare go by this light, but,when we can see, we will find a safer place further down."
Cautiously they made their way down to a clump of bushes, twenty feetbelow the edge, and there, lying down, dozed until it became lightenough to see the ground. The slope was very steep, but bushes grewhere and there upon it, and by means of these, and projecting rocks,they worked their way down some thirty feet lower, and then sat downamong some bushes, which screened them from the sight of anyone whomight be passing along the edge of the river, while the steep slopeeffectually hid them from anyone moving along above.
"Is there any signature to that letter," James asked presently.
The midshipman took the piece of paper out and looked at it.
"No, there is no signature," he said; "but I know the handwriting. Ihave seen it in orders, over and over again."
James was silent a few minutes.
"I won't ask you who it is, though I fear I know too well. Look here,Middleton, I should like you to tear that letter up, and say no moreabout it."
"No, sir," the boy said, putting the paper in his pocket. "I can't dothat. Of course I am under your orders, for this expedition; but thisis not an affair in which I consider that I am bound to obey you. Thisconcerns the honour of the officers of my ship, and I should not bedoing my duty if I did not, upon my return, place this letter in thehands of the captain. A man who would betray the general's plans to theenemy, would betray the ship, and I should be a traitor, myself, if Idid not inform the captain. I am sorry, awfully sorry, that this shouldhappen to an officer of the Sutherland, but it will be for the captainto decide whether he will make it public or not.
"There is one thing. If it was to be anyone, I would rather that it washe than anyone else, for there isn't a man on board can abide him. No,sir, I am sorry, but I cannot give up the letter, and, even if you hadtorn it up when you had it in your hand just now, I should havereported the whole thing to the captain, and say I could swear to thehandwriting."
James was silent. The boy was right, and was only doing his duty indetermining to denounce the act of gross treachery which had beenperpetrated. He was deeply grieved, however, to think of theconsequences of the discovery, and especially of the blow that it wouldbe, to the squire, to hear that his nephew was a traitor, and indeed amurderer at heart, for, had not his flight taken place before thediscovery was made, he would certainly have been executed as a spy.
The day passed quietly. That the Indians were searching for him, farand wide, James Walsham had no doubt, and indeed, from their hidingplace he saw several parties of redskins moving along on the riverbank, carefully examining the ground.
"It's lucky we didn't move along there," he said to his companion, "forthe ground is so soft that they would assuredly have found our tracks.I expect that they think it possible that we may have been taken off,in a boat, during the night."
"I hope they will keep on thinking so," the midshipman said. "Then theywill give up looking for us."
"They won't do that," James replied; "for they will be sure that theymust have seen our tracks, had we passed along that muddy bank.Fortunately, they have no clue to where we really are. We might havegone east, west, or north, and the country is so covered with bush thatanything like a regular search is absolutely impossible."
"I hope we ain't going to be very long, before we get on board again,"the midshipman said, as he munched the small piece of bread Jamesserved out to him for his dinner. "The grub won't last more than twodays, even at this starvation rate, and that one bottle of water is amockery. I could finish it all, straight off. Why, we shall be as badlyoff as if we were adrift at sea, in a boat."
"Not quite so bad," James replied. "We can chew the leaves of some ofthese bushes; besides, people don't die of hunger or thirst in fourdays, and I hope, before that, to be safely on board."
Not until it was perfectly dark did they leave their hiding place, and,by the aid of the bushes, worked their way up to the top of the ascentagain. James had impressed on his companion that, on no account, was heto speak above a whisper, that he was to stop whenever he did, and,should he turn off and descend the slope, he was at once to follow hisexample. The midshipman kept close to his companion, and marvelled howassuredly the latter walked along, for he himself could see nothing.
Several times, James stopped and listened. Presently, he turned off tothe right, saying "hush!" in the lowest possible tone, and, proceedinga few paces down the slope, noiselessly lay down behind the bush. Themidshipman imitated his example, though he wondered why he was soacting, for he could hear nothing. Two or three minutes later he hearda low footfall, and then the sound of men speaking in a low voice, insome strange tongue. He could not see them, but held his breath as theywere passing. Not till they had been gone some minutes did James rise,and pursue his course.
"Two Indians," he said, "and on the search
for us. One was just sayingto the other he expected, when they got back to camp, to find that someof the other parties had overtaken us."
Another mile further, and they saw the light of several fires ahead.
"That is a French battery," James said. "We must make a detour, and getto the other side of it; then I will crawl back, and see if there isany path down to the river."
The detour was made, and then, leaving the midshipman in hiding a fewpaces from the edge, James crawled back. He soon saw, by the fires,that the battery was manned by sailors from the French fleet, and hehad little fear of these discovering him. Keeping well below them, hecame presently upon a narrow path. Above him, he could hear a Frenchsentry walking. He followed the path down, with the greatest caution,stepping with the most extreme care, to avoid displacing a stone. Hefound the path was excessively steep and rugged, little more, indeed,than a sheep track. It took him half an hour to reach the bottom, andhe found that, in some places, sappers had been lately at workobliterating the path, and that it could scarcely be consideredpracticable for men hampered with their arms and ammunition.
Another half hour's work took him to the top again, and a few minuteslater he rejoined his companion.
"That won't do," he said. "We must try again. There is a path, but thetroops could scarcely climb it if unopposed, and certainly could not doso without making such a noise as would attract the notice of thesentinels above."
"That is the battery they call Sillery," the midshipman said. "Theyhave fired at us over and over again from there, as we went up or downthe river. There is another about a mile further on. It is calledSamos."
Upon reaching the Samos battery, James again crept up and reconnoitred.The way down, however, was even more difficult than at Sillery. Therewas, indeed, no regular path, and so steep was the descent that hedoubted whether it would be possible for armed men to climb it. Evenhe, exceptionally strong and active as he was, and unencumbered witharms, had the greatest difficulty in making his way down and up againand, indeed, could only do so by grasping the trunks of trees andstrong bushes.
"It can't be done there," he said to the midshipman when he joined himagain. "And now we must look for a hiding place. We must have been fiveor six hours since we started, and the nights are very short. At anyrate, we cannot attempt another exploration before morning."
"I wish we could explore the inside of a farm house and light uponsomething to eat and drink," the midshipman said.
"It's no use wishing," James replied. "We can't risk anything of thatsort and, probably, all the farm houses are full of troops. We have gota little bread left. That will hold us over tomorrow comfortably."
"It may hold us," Middleton said; "but it certainly won't hold mecomfortably. My idea of comfort, at the present time, would be a roundof beef and a gallon of ale."
"Ah! You are an epicure," James laughed. "If you had had three or fouryears of campaigning in the forest, as I have had, you would learn tocontent yourself on something a good deal less than that."
"I might," the boy said; "but I have my doubts about it. There's onecomfort. We shall be able to sleep all day tomorrow, and so I sha'n'tthink about it. As the Indians did not find our tracks yesterday, theyare not likely to do so today."
They were some time before they found a hiding place, for the descentwas so steep that they had to try several times, before they could getdown far enough to reach a spot screened by bushes, and hidden from thesight of anyone passing above. At last they did so, and soon lay downto sleep, after partaking of a mouthful of water each, and a tiny pieceof bread. They passed the day for the most part in sleep, but themidshipman woke frequently, being now really parched with thirst. Eachtime, he chewed a few leaves from the bush in which they were lying,but derived but small comfort from it.
"It's awful to think of tomorrow," he said, as evening approached."Even supposing you find a way down tonight, it must be midnighttomorrow before we are taken off."
"If I find a way down," James said, "I will, if possible, take you downwith me, and then we can take a long drink at the river; but, at anyrate, I will take the bottle down with me, and bring it up full foryou. The next place to try is the spot where we saw some tents, as wewent up the river. There is no battery there, and the tents can onlyhave been pitched there because there was some way down to the water.It cannot be more than half a mile away, for it was not more than amile from Fort Samos."
"Can't I go with you?" the midshipman said. "I will be as quiet as acat; and, if you find it is a good path, and come up to fetch me down,you see there will be a treble risk of being seen."
"Very well," James agreed. "Only mind, if you set a stone rolling, orbreak a twig, it will cost us both our lives, to say nothing of thefailure of our expedition."
"I will be as quiet as a mouse. You see if I ain't," the midshipmansaid confidently; "and I will try not to think, even once, of the waterbelow there, so as not to hurry."
Together they crept cautiously along the edge of the ridge, until theycame to a clump of some fifteen tents. As they approached they couldsee, by the light of the fires, that the encampment was one of Canadiantroops.
James had not intended to move forward until all were asleep, but themen were all chatting round the fires, and it did not seem to him thata sentry had, as yet, been placed on the edge of the descent. Hetherefore crept forward at once, followed closely by the midshipman,keeping, as far as possible, down beyond the slope of the descent.
Presently, he came to a path. He saw at once that this was verydifferent from the others--it was regularly cut, sloping gradually downthe face of the sharp descent, and was wide enough for a cart to pass.He at once took his way down it, moving with the greatest caution, lesta sentry should be posted some distance below. It was very dark, for,in many places, the trees met overhead.
About halfway down he suddenly came to a stop, for, in front of him,rose a bank breast high. Here, if anywhere, a sentry should have beenplaced, and, holding his companion's arm, James listened intently forsome time.
"Mind what you are doing," he said in a whisper. "This is a breastworkand, probably, the path is cut away on the other side. Fortunately, weare so far down the hill now, that there is not much risk of theirhearing any slight noise we might make. You stand here, till I find outwhat's on the other side."
James climbed over the breastwork, and cautiously let himself go on theother side. He fell some five or six feet.
"Come on," he said in a low voice. "Lower yourself down by your arms. Ican reach your legs then."
The gap cut in the path was some ten feet across, and six feet deep.When, with some difficulty, they clambered up on the other side, theyfound the path obstructed by a number of felled trees, forming a thickabattis. They managed to climb the steep hillside, and kept along ituntil past the obstruction. Then they got on to the path again, andfound it unbroken to the bottom.
"So far, so good," James said. "Now, do you stop here, while I crawlforward to the water. The first thing to discover is whether they havea sentinel stationed anywhere near the bottom of this path."
The time seemed terribly long to Middleton before James returned,though it was really but a few minutes.
"All right!" he said, as he approached him. "There is no one here,though I can hear some sentries farther up the river. Now you can comeforward, and have a drink. Fortunately, the river is high."
After having satisfied their thirst, Middleton asked:
"Where are you going now? I don't care how far we have got to march,for, after that drink, I feel ready for anything."
"It won't do to hide anywhere near," James said; "for, if the boatwhich comes to take us off were to be seen, it would put them on theirguard, and there would be plenty of sentries about here in future. No,we will keep along at the foot of the precipice till we are abouthalfway, as far as we can tell, between Samos and Sillery, and then wewill climb up, as high as we can get, and show our signal in themorning. But you must be careful as we walk, for, as I told you
, thereare some sentries posted by the water's edge, higher up."
"I will be careful, don't you fear," the midshipman said. "There is notmuch fear of a fellow, walking about in the dark without boots, notbeing careful. I knocked my toe against a rock, just now, and it was asmuch as I could do not to halloa. I will be careful in future, I cantell you."
An hour's walking brought them to a spot where the hill was rather lesssteep than usual. They climbed up, until they gained a spot some fiftyfeet above the level of the river, and there sat down in a clump ofbushes.
"As soon as it's daylight, we will choose a spot where we can show asignal, without the risk of it's being seen from below," James said."We mustn't go to sleep, for we must move directly the dawn commences,else those sentries below might make us out."
At daybreak they shifted their position, and gained a spot completelyhidden from below, but from which an entire view of the river could beobtained.
"Tide will be low in a couple of hours," the midshipman said. "Thereare the fleet below. They will come up with the first flood, so, inthree or four hours, they will be abreast of us. I hope they will makeout our signal."
"I have no fear of that," James replied. "They are sure to keep a sharplookout for it."
Presently the tide grew slacker, and, half an hour later, the shipswere seen to hoist their sails, and soon began to drop slowly up theriver. When they approached, James fastened his handkerchief againstthe trunk of a tree, well open to view from the river, and then stoodwith his eyes fixed on the approaching ships. Just as the Sutherlandcame abreast of the spot where they were standing, the ensign wasdipped. James at once removed his handkerchief.
"Now," he said, "Middleton, you can turn in and take a sleep. At twelveo'clock tonight there will be a boat below for us."
Two or three hours after darkness had fallen, James and his companionmade their way down the slope, and crawled out to the water's edge.There was no sentry within hearing, and they sat down, by the edge ofthe river, until suddenly a light gleamed for an instant, low down onthe water, two or three hundred yards from the shore.
They at once stepped into the river, and, wading out for some littledistance, struck out towards where they had seen the light. A fewminutes' swimming, and they saw something dark ahead. Another fewstrokes took them alongside, and they were hauled into the boat.
The slight noise attracted the attention of a sentry, some littledistance along the shore, and his qui vive came sharply across thewater, followed a few seconds later by the flash of his gun.
The crew now bent to their oars, and, a quarter of an hour later, theboat was alongside the Sutherland, which, with her consorts, was slowlydrifting up the stream. General Wolfe and the admiral were on deck, andanxiously waiting the arrival of the boat. The former, in his anxiety,hailed the boat as it approached.
"Is Captain James Walsham on board?"
"Yes, sir," James replied.
"Bravo, bravo!" the general cried, delighted.
"Bravo!" he repeated, seizing James Walsham's hand as he stepped ondeck. "I did not expect to see you again, Captain Walsham, at leastuntil we took Quebec. Now, come to my cabin at once and tell me allabout it. But perhaps you are hungry."
"I am rather hungry, general," James said quietly. "We have had nothingto eat but a crust of bread for three days."
"We? Who are we?" the general asked quickly.
"Mr. Middleton and myself, sir. He escaped after I had left, and joinedme."
"The galley fires are out," the admiral said, "but you shall have somecold meat in my cabin, instantly."
James was at once led to the cabin, where, in two or three minutes,food and a bottle of wine were placed before him. The general would notallow him to speak a word, till his hunger was satisfied. Then, when hesaw him lay down his knife and fork, he said:
"Now, Captain Walsham, in the first place, have you succeeded--have youfound a practicable path down to the river?"
"I have found a path, sir. It is cut in one place, and blocked withfelled trees, but the obstacles can be passed. There are someCanadians, in tents, near the top of the path, but they seem to keep avery careless watch, and no sentry is placed at the bottom, or on theedge of the river anywhere near."
"Admirable, admirable!" Wolfe exclaimed. "At last there is a chance ofour outreaching Montcalm. And you were not seen examining the path?Nothing occurred to excite their suspicion, and lead them to keep abetter lookout in future?"
"No, sir," James replied. "They have had no suspicion of my presenceanywhere near. The spot where I was taken off was two miles higher. Imoved away in order that, if we were seen swimming off to the boat, nosuspicion should occur that we had been reconnoitring the pathway."
"That is right," the general said. "Now, tell me the whole story ofwhat you have been doing, in your own way."
James related his adventures, up to the time when he was joined by themidshipman.
"But what made Mr. Middleton escape?" the admiral asked. "I thoughtthat his instructions were precise, that he was to permit himself to betaken prisoner, and was to remain quietly in Quebec, until we couldeither exchange him or take the place."
"That was how he understood his instructions, sir," James said; "but Iwould rather that you should question him, yourself, as to his reasonsfor escaping. I may say they appear to me to be perfectly valid, as anoccurrence took place upon which it was impossible for Captain Petersto calculate, when he gave them."
James then finished the report of his proceedings, and General Wolfeexpressed his great satisfaction at the result.
"I will put you in orders, tomorrow, for your brevet-majority," hesaid; "and never was the rank more honourably earned."
The admiral rang a hand bell.
"Send Mr. Middleton to me. Where is he?"
"He is having supper in Captain Peters' cabin."
"Ask Captain Peters if he will be good enough to come in with him."
A minute later Captain Peters entered, followed by the midshipman.
"I suppose, Peters, you have been asking young Middleton the reason whyhe did not carry out his instructions?"
"I have, admiral," Captain Peters said gravely, "and I was only waitinguntil you were disengaged to report the circumstance to you. He hadbetter tell you, sir, his own way."
Captain Peters then took a seat at the table, while the midshipmanrelated his story, in nearly the same words in which he had told it toJames. When he told of the account the Canadian pilot had given of hisescape, the admiral exclaimed:
"But it seems altogether incredible. That some one has unbolted theman's cabin from the outside seems manifest, and it is clear thateither gross treachery, or gross carelessness, enabled him to get free.I own that, although the sergeant of marines declares positively thathe fastened the bolts, I think that he could not have done so, fortreachery seems almost out of the question. That an officer should havedone this seems impossible; and yet, what the man says about the cabin,and being let out by a rope, would seem to show that it must have beenan officer."
"I am sorry to say, sir," Middleton said, "that the man gave proofs ofthe truth of what he was saying. The officer, he said, gave him apaper, which I heard and saw the general reading aloud. It was awarning that Captain Walsham had purposely allowed himself to becaptured, and that he was, in fact, a spy. The French officer, in hishaste, laid down the paper on the table when he rushed out, and I hadjust time to creep under the canvas, seize it, and make off with it.Here it is, sir. I have showed it to Captain Peters."
The admiral took the paper and read it, and handed it, without a word,to General Wolfe.
"That is proof conclusive," he said. "Peters, do you know thehandwriting?"
"Yes," Captain Peters said gravely. "I recognized it at once, as didMr. Middleton. It is the handwriting of Lieutenant Horton."
"But what on earth could be the motive of this unhappy young man?" theadmiral asked.
"I imagine, sir, from what I saw on the evening before Captain Walshamset ou
t, and, indeed, from what Captain Walsham said when I questionedhim, that it was a case of private enmity against Captain Walsham."
"Is this so, Captain Walsham?" General Wolfe asked.
"I have no enmity against him, sir," James said, "though I own that hismanner impressed me with the idea that he regarded me as an enemy. Thefact is, we lived near each other as boys, and we had a fight. I gotthe best of it. He gave an account of the affair, which was not exactlycorrect, to his uncle, Mr. Linthorne, a wealthy landowner and amagistrate. The latter had me up at the justice room; but I broughtforward witnesses, who gave their account of the affair. Mr. Linthorneconsidered that his nephew--whom he had at that time regarded as hisheir--had not given a correct account, and was so angry that he senthim to sea.
"I would say, sir," he said earnestly, "that, were it possible, Ishould have wished this unhappy affair to be passed over."
"Impossible!" the admiral and general said together.
"I fear it is impossible now, sir," James said gravely; "but it mighthave been stopped before."
"Captain Walsham wanted me to tear up the note," the midshipman put in;"but, though I was awfully sorry such a thing should happen to anofficer of the Sutherland, I was obliged to refuse to do so, as Ithought it was my duty to hand the note to you."
"Certainly it was, Mr. Middleton," the admiral said. "There can be noquestion about that."
"I wonder that you even suggested such a thing, Captain Walsham," thegeneral remarked. "This was not a private affair. The whole success ofthe enterprise was jeopardized."
"It was, sir," James said quietly; "but you must remember that, at thetime I asked Mr. Middleton to tear up the note, it had ceased to bejeopardized, for I had got fairly away. I am under great obligations toMr. Linthorne, and would do much to save him pain. I regarded this act,not as one of treason against the country, but as one of personalenmity to myself, and I am sure that Lieutenant Horton, himself, didnot think of the harm that his letter might do to the cause, but wasblinded by his passion against me."
"Your conduct does credit to your heart, Captain Walsham, if not toyour head," General Wolfe said.
The admiral rang the bell.
"Tell Lieutenant Horton that I wish to speak to him, and order acorporal, with a file of marines, to be at the door."
The messenger found Lieutenant Horton pacing the quarterdeck withhurried steps. On the receipt of the message, instead of going directlyto the admiral's cabin, he ran down below, caught something from ashelf by his berth, placed it in the breast of his coat, and then wentto the admiral's cabin. The corporal, with the two marines, had alreadytaken his station there. The young officer drew a deep breath, andentered.
A deadly fear had seized him, from the moment he saw the signal ofJames Walsham, although it seemed impossible to him that his treacherycould have been discovered. The sudden summons at this hour of thenight confirmed his fears, and it was with a face almost as pale asdeath that he entered the cabin.
"Lieutenant Horton," the admiral said, "you are accused of havingassisted in the escape of the pilot, who was our prisoner on board thisship. You are further accused of releasing him with the special purposethat the plans which General Wolfe had laid, to obtain information,might be thwarted."
"Who accuses me?" Richard Horton asked. "Captain Walsham is my enemy.He has for years intrigued against me, and sought to do me harm. He wasthe companion of smugglers, and was captured by the Thetis, and had thechoice of being sent to prison, and tried for his share in the killingof some of the coast guards, or of going before the mast. I was alieutenant in the Thetis at the time, and I suppose, because I did notthen interfere on his behalf, he has now trumped up this accusationagainst me, an accusation I defy him to prove."
"You are mistaken, Lieutenant Horton," the admiral said. "CaptainWalsham is not your accuser. Nay, more, he has himself committed agrave dereliction of duty in trying to screen you, and by endeavouringto destroy the principal evidence against you. Mr. Middleton overhearda conversation between the Canadian pilot and the French general, andthe former described how he had been liberated by an English officer,who assisted him to escape by a rope from the porthole in his cabin."
"I do not see that that is any evidence against me," Richard Hortonsaid. "In the first place, the man may have been lying. In the secondplace, unless he mentioned my name, why am I suspected more than anyother officer? And, even if he did mention my name, my word is surelyas good as that of a Canadian prisoner. It is probable that the man wasreleased by one of the crew--some man, perhaps, who owed me agrudge--who told him to say that it was I who freed him, in hopes thatsome day this outrageous story might get about."
"Your suggestions are plausible, Mr. Horton," the admiral said coldly."Unfortunately, it is not on the word of this Canadian that we have todepend.
"There, sir," he said, holding out the letter; "there is the chiefwitness against you. Captain Peters instantly recognized yourhandwriting, as Mr. Middleton had done before him."
Richard Horton stood gazing speechlessly at the letter. So confoundedwas he, by the unexpected production of this fatal missive, that he wasunable to utter a single word of explanation or excuse.
"Lay your sword on the table, sir," the admiral said, "and retire toyour cabin, where you will remain, under close arrest, till a courtmartial can be assembled."
Richard Horton unbuckled his sword and laid it on the table, and leftthe cabin without a word.
"It would have been better to send a guard with him," Captain Peterssaid; "he might jump overboard, or blow his brains out."
"Quite so, Peters," the admiral said. "The very thing that was in mymind, when I told him to retire to his cabin--the very best thing hecould do, for himself and for the service. A nice scandal it would be,to have to try and hang a naval officer for treachery.
"I am sure you agree with me, general?"
"Thoroughly," the general said. "Let him blow his brains out, ordesert; but you had best keep a sharp lookout that he does not desertat present. After we have once effected our landing, I should say keepas careless a watch over him as possible; but don't let him go before.It is bad enough that the French know that Captain Walsham went ashorefor the purpose of discovering a landing place; but it would be worsewere they to become aware that he has rejoined the ships, and that hewas taken off by a boat within a couple of miles of the spot where wemean to land."
The admiral was right. Richard Horton had, when summoned to the cabin,hastily placed a pistol in his bosom, with the intention of blowing outhis brains, should he find that the discovery he dreaded had been made.Had the marines posted outside the cabin been ordered to accompany him,he would at once have carried his purpose into execution; but, findinghimself free, he walked to his cabin, still determined to blow out hisbrains before morning; but, the impulse once past, he could not summonup resolution to carry his resolve into effect. He would do it, he saidto himself, before the court martial came on. That would be timeenough.
This was the decision he arrived at when the morning dawned upon him,lying despairing in his cot.