Now considerably intrigued, Roger had his steersmen alter course until they were within fifty feet of the stern of the frigate; then he retrieved the floating bottle from the slightly choppy water. As he pulled the cork from the bottle neck and fished out the paper, he expected to find that the decidedly attractive Senorita had sent him a note to say that her lover was ashore and inviting him to come aboard to entertain her.
To his utter amazement he read, ‘Roger, do you not recognise me? I dared not shout in English for fear of giving you away, but I am Georgina. I am held captive by the Captain of this frigate. For God’s sake, rescue me.’
27
Napoleon Triumphant
For a few moments Roger was so overcome by mingled surprise and joy that his wits refused to work. Then they snapped back with their usual resilience to an unexpected situation.
Three courses were open to him. He could have the boat rowed under the stern of the frigate and tell Georgina to jump for it. But the stern gallery over which she was leaning was a good twenty feet above the water, so that would mean a nasty drop and a chill wind was blowing. When they hauled her aboard she would be soaked to the skin and might catch her death of cold before he could get her to his inn.
Secondly, she could speak a little Spanish; so he could call up to her in that language that he would return after nightfall bringing with him a line to throw her and a rope ladder that she could then haul up, make fast and descend by to the boat. But while it was evident that the man who held her captive was not with her at the moment it was highly probable that he would be during the night. Not only would he prevent her escaping but, perhaps, grab up his pistols and fire down upon her defenceless would-be rescuer.
The third course was to go boldly on board right away and claim her. And that Roger decided to do.
In his halting Spanish he called to Georgina, ‘I am coming for you, Senorita. Get your things together quickly.’ Then he said to the owner of the boat, ‘That Senorita is an old friend of mind. She is being held on the ship against her will. Steer along to the gangway.’
As usual with ships in port for some time, instead of a rope ladder slung over the side, a flight of wooden steps had been rigged from her deck down to a platform a few feet above the level of the water. Much amused by this romantic encounter, the grinning sailors brought the boat alongside the platform and Roger jumped on to it.
Taking the wooden steps three at a time he mounted to the quarter deck. As the ship was in port only a skeleton watch was being maintained. Except for two seamen sitting on coils of rope smoking their long pipes at the entrance to the fo’c’sle no one was about, but at the sound of Roger’s footsteps a young Lieutenant emerged from the after deck house. Saluting Roger politely he asked his business.
‘I am here,’ said Roger, ‘to see the Senorita in the Captain’s quarters.’
The Lieutenant looked startled and exclaimed, ‘I… I fear that is not possible, Monsieur le Colonel. Nobody is allowed to see her without Captain Fouraier’s permission, and he is ashore.’
‘I require nobody’s permission,’ returned Roger sharply. ‘Come! Be good enough to take me to her.’
‘But … but, monsieur le Colonel,’ stammered the lieutenant. ‘I am under orders. The lady is English. She… she is a captive and held incommunicado.’
‘Of that I am aware, as also are the authorities who sent me here.’ Roger’s blue eyes flashed as he added with a sneer. ‘And since when did Frenchmen make war on women?’
The young man reddened. ‘Please believe I am in no way responsible. But I have my orders. I cannot disobey them.’
‘That I appreciate. However, by making your protest you have done your duty. I will go find her for myself.’ Turning on his heel Roger walked briskly towards the entrance under the poop that led to the ship’s stern cabin.
Now sweating slightly with apprehension, the Lieutenant hurried after him and cried, ‘Monsieur le Colonel, will you not wait until Captain Fournier comes aboard? He is due back now, so should be here quite shortly. Wait and discuss this with him, I beg; otherwise I’ll find myself in most grievous trouble.’
Ignoring the plea Roger, strode down the passage until he reached a door at the end which obviously gave on to the big stateroom. Seizing the handle of the door he rattled it, but it was locked. The noise he made brought a big, broad-shouldered man out of a nearby galley. A glance at the kit he was wearing led Roger to judge that he was the Captain’s steward and he snapped:
‘Where is the key to this door? Get it at once.’
The steward gave him a surly look then glanced at the Lieutenant, who quavered, ‘Monsieur le Colonel, we have our orders.’
‘To hell with your orders! Refuse me the key and I’ll kick the door in.’ Roger drew back a pace as though about to raise his heavily-booted foot.
‘These quarters is private,’ said the steward aggressively. ‘An’ ’tis my job to see as no one enters ’em in Capn’s absence.’ Then he moved to step in front of Roger.
Drawing himself up, Roger said harshly, ‘You know my rank. Observe also my sash. It is that of an A.D.C. to the Emperor. Lay a hand on me or endeavour to prevent me from entering this stateroom and by God you’ll rue it. I’ll have you sent to the galleys. Now, give me the key.’
The steward wilted and produced a long key from his jacket pocket. Taking it, Roger snarled at him, ‘Get back to your galley.’ Then he turned to the Lieutenant. ‘I am about to relieve you of your prisoner. Should you make any attempt to stop me I shall report the matter personally to Monsieur Decrès, the Minister of Marine, and see to it that you are court martialled with your Captain for having aided him in an illegal act. You will now return to your quarter-deck.’
Still surly, but cowed, the steward shuffled back into his pantry. The Lieutenant, white to the gills, saluted then turned on his heel. Roger quickly inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. Georgina was standing near one end of a large table which occupied the centre of the big stateroom. She now had on a cloak and hood and was holding a big straw basket into which she had hurriedly crammed her belongings.
As Roger stepped through the doorway into the stateroom, Georgina, her great dark eyes shining with delight, started to run towards him. With a swift gesture he checked her, and put a finger to his lips enjoining silence. Then he bowed and asked:
‘Madame, parlez-vous français?’
She nodded, and he went on in French, ‘It has come to the knowledge of the authorities that you are being held here against your will. I have been sent to take you ashore. Permit me to relieve you of your basket.’ He was playing this little comedy for the benefit of the steward, who he felt sure was listening behind the half-open galley door. And as he stepped up to Georgina to take the basket, he added in a whisper, ‘Until we are alone it is better that we should pretend to be strangers.’ Then he stood aside for her to precede him from the cabin.
On the quarter deck the Lieutenant was standing, still sweating at the thought of having to face his Captain’s wrath; but he made no move to stop them and saluted as they stepped up on to the gangway.
The moment Roger could see over the ship’s side he received a most unpleasant shock. His excitement at freeing Georgina had caused him momentarily to forget about the Lieutenant’s having told him that Captain Fournier was expected back on board at any time. And there was the Captain just stepping out of his gig on to the platform below.
Quickly handing Georgina back her basket, he put her behind him and started down the steps. At the same moment the Captain glanced up. On seeing Georgina his mouth fell open in surprise. Then his face became black with anger and he bellowed at Roger:
‘Who the devil are you? What’s the meaning of this?’
Roger smiled at him and replied, ‘I should have thought you could see for yourself. I am about to take this lady ashore.’
‘You’ll do nothing of the kind.’
‘Indeed I shall. And you will attempt to stop me at your pe
ril.’
Fournier was a tall, bronze-faced man of about forty, his good looks now marred by an ugly scowl. He had run up a dozen steps of the gangway and Roger had quietly walked down about the same number; so they were now within a few feet of one another.
‘Who are you?’ demanded the Captain. ‘By what right are you in my ship?’
‘My name is Galahad,’ Roger grinned down at him. ‘And I am about my normal business of rescuing damsels in distress.’
‘Damn your insolence! I’ll teach you manners before you are much older. Get back on deck this instant.’
‘Manners? Oh come, Captain. Where are yours? Had you any you would not keep a lady waiting, but descend to the platform so that she could pass.’
Infuriated by this baiting, Fourner put his hand to his sword. Roger had been expecting that so was ready for it, but he had no intention of exchanging thrusts; for should either of them seriously wound the other he would have little hope of getting away with Georgina. If he got the worst of the encounter that would be that. If the Captain did it was certain that his men would prevent them from leaving the ship until some senior officer could be brought on the scene.
Instead he waited another moment until both Fournier’s hands were engaged, the right gripping the hilt of the sword and the left grasping the scabbard. Then, grabbing with one hand the rope that ran alongside the gangway he went down one step and, with the other, gave the Captain a terrific box on his right ear.
The blow sent Fournier reeling sideways. Roger followed it up with a swift kick that landed on the unfortunate man’s right shoulder. His whole weight was thrown upon the rope, it gave outward, his feet slid from the step and he hurtled downward to land with a loud splash in the sea.
The Spaniards in Roger’s boat had no love for their French masters and gave vent to loud olés of approval. The French sailors in the gig apparently had little affection for their Captain, as they had difficulty in hiding their grins at his discomfiture while putting off to rescue him before he was swept away by the tide. Georgina held her sides and roared with laughter.
Two minutes later Roger had her in his boat and the Spaniards were pulling lustily for the harbour. Eager as they were to question one another during the trip ashore, Georgina obeyed Roger’s injunction to treat him as a stranger; so they could do no more than steal furtive eager glances at one another in the semi-darkness. It was not until they reached harbour and he had paid off the boatman that Roger could ask her:
‘How in Heaven’s name did you come to be here at Cadiz and in that ship?’
‘I came in her from the Indies,’ she replied quickly. ‘She was one of Admiral Villeneuve’s fleet.’
‘Well, I’ll be damned!’ he exclaimed. ‘And I was in another; at least from Madeira. To think we sailed in company and did not know it. You must then have been at the battle off Finisterre?’
‘I was, and scared out of my wits.’
‘But how came you to be in a French frigate?’
‘The ship in which I left Jamaica eighteen months ago was attacked by buccaneers and…’
‘I know it. I saw you in a vision and you were nearly drowning.’
She pressed his arm, ‘Dearest Roger. It was you then who saved me. Had I not had the sense to free myself of my skirt and petticoats before the boat I was in went down I would certainly have drowned. Even so I was nearly exhausted and the shore still distant. I recall thinking of you. Then new strength seemed to enter into me. I reached the beach of a desert island and was marooned there many months.’
‘I know that, too. I went in search of you and found the place.’
‘Oh, Roger, Roger. I might have known you would if you believed me to be still alive. But you came too late.’
‘I did not get there till May 12th of this year; but I knew it for certain to be the island you had been on, for I found your pearls and have ever since worn them beneath my shirt.’ Suddenly he halted and began to laugh.
Turning her face up to his she said gently, ‘I see nothing humorous in that. It does but show that you treasured the memory of me.’
‘Nay, not that,’ he strove to control his laughter. ‘On the island I came upon two skeletons. One, tall and with fair hair still on its skull, I had no doubt was that of my Lord Rockhurst, with whom you travelled out. The other was short and had black hair. I believed it to be you, and was so overcome with grief that my men took me from the place. When I returned I found they had buried both. Had they not done so I’d have taken that black hair, plaited it and would be wearing it now instead of your pearls.’
Georgina then burst out laughing too. ‘My dear! My dear! Just to think of you going about Europe for years to come treasuring a hank of hair you believed to be mine when it was really that of a half-caste seaman.’ After a moment she went on, ‘His name was José. With Rockhurst and myself he was the only survivor from our boat. The poor Skiffingtons and the other men in it were all drowned.’
‘But what happened later?’ Roger asked quickly. ‘How did Rockhurst and José come to die and you escape?’
‘We had been on the island just on a year,’ she replied, ‘when the French frigate you found me in anchored off shore to water. A party of sailors from her came upon us. Little José had been taken with a fever and was lying in his own hut, so was helpless and must have died shortly after. Seeing me skirtless and half-naked the sailors thought me fair game for a rape. Rockhurst endeavoured to defend me, but they were too many for him and he was struck down. Luckily for me a young officer appeared at that moment and called his men to order. He took me aboard the ship and I told my story to Captain Fournier. The gallant Captain was much taken with me.’
‘And then?’ Roger prompted her.
Georgina giggled, ‘Surely you can guess the rest. Although something of a martinet he is a handsome fellow, and after a few days at sea I made a bargain with him. I agreed to become his mistress if he would take me back to Europe. The frigate lay for some while at Port-au-Prince, then sailed down to Martinique, joined Admiral Villeneuve’s fleet and recrossed the ocean.
‘After the battle off Finisterre we put in to Vigo. I asked Jules Fournier to put me ashore and give me sufficient money to journey down to Gibraltar, so that I could get back to England. But he had become quite besotted about me and behaved most ungenerously, declaring it to be his intention to keep me with him indefinitely. There have been occasions since when I could have escaped; but I dared not land penniless in a foreign port; and though I watched him like a hawk he was too clever to give me an opportunity to steal money from him.’
By this time they were approaching the ‘Inca Queen’, and even while listening to Georgina’s story Roger had been giving half his mind to considering what it would be best to do in this most unexpected situation. Drawing Georgina into the shadow of an arch that led into the stable yard of the inn, he said quickly:
‘Listen, my sweet. We are not yet out of the wood. Fournier will be coming ashore at any moment to hunt for us. If he finds us you may be certain he will force a duel upon me. I’m a good enough blade to back myself to get the better of him, but duels are tricky things and did he chance to wound me severely that would spell disaster for us both. For me because I have information of the utmost importance that I must get to England; for you because you would be left stranded here without money or anyone to turn to. That we dare not risk, so we must get out of Cadiz as swiftly as we can.’
‘Gibraltar is no great distance from here, is it?’ Georgina said.
‘Stap me!’ Roger exclaimed as an idea suddenly came into his head. ‘I have it. To Gibraltar you must go. Though I cannot.’
‘But why?’ she cried. ‘Oh Roger, having found one another again must we part so soon?’
‘Alas, beloved, ‘I fear we must. I cannot go there because the place is besieged and the Spaniards would not let me through their lines. But they are chivalrous people and, unlike Napoleon, do not interfere with civilians from enemy countries caught in theirs b
y a war. You have only to tell some story to the Spanish officers at La Linea. Say that your husband is a merchant on the Rock and that when war was declared you were staying with friends in Madrid; that you have recently heard that he has met with a serious accident and wish to rejoin him. I am confident they will let you through.’
‘But, Roger,’ Georgina was in tears now. ‘Since… since you cannot go to Gibraltar, I’ve no wish to go. We’ll go to some other place. Anywhere as long as I can remain with you.’
‘Hush, dear heart, hush,’ he pleaded. ‘Stop crying, I beg, and listen. In this we must think not of ourselves but of our country. It is of the utmost importance that I get a message to the Governor of Gibraltar as swiftly as possible. And you can take it for me.’
He then told her of Napoleon’s orders to Villeneuve to leave port and join Gantheaume’s fleet from Brest which, unless Villeneuve could be intercepted, would make the French masters of the Channel.
Georgina realised at once how vital it was to get the information through and that by taking it to Gibraltar she could get it there perhaps as much as a week earlier than Roger could himself. So she dried her tears and made no further protest about being separated from him again so soon.
While they had been talking in the shadow of the arch several people had passed them, and back in the big yard of the inn a team of horses was being harnessed to a coach while it was loaded up. Glancing in that direction, Roger said:
‘Wait here one moment, dearest, while I enquire of an ostler where that coach is bound for. It is most probably going to Seville, as that is the main road into central Spain; but he will be able to tell me the hour at which the one for Algeciras leaves in the morning, then we’ll find some small inn at which Fournier is unlikely to enquire for us, and there pass the night.’
Two minutes later he returned to her and said huskily, ‘My sweet Georgina, I’ve bad news for us; but good in that we’ll not have to take the risk of Fournier running us to earth during the night and forcing a duel on me that might ruin everything. That vehicle about to start is the overnight diligence for Algeciras. And you must take it.’
The Wanton Princess Page 45