Chapter XXIV
What occurred at Flushing, and what occurred when we got out ofFlushing.
An hour before daybreak we started; the snow was thick on the ground,but the sky was clear, and without any difficulty or interruption wepassed through the towns of Axel and Halst, arrived at Terneuse on thefourth day, and went over to Flushing in company with about a dozen morestragglers from the main body. As we landed, the guard asked us whetherwe were conscripts. O'Brien replied that he was, and held out his paper.They took his name, or rather that of the person it belonged to, down ina book, and told him that he must apply to the _etat major_ beforethree o'clock. We passed on delighted with our success, and then O'Brienpulled out the letter which had been given to him by the woman of thecabaret, who had offered to assist me to escape, when O'Brien passed offas a gendarme, and reading the address, demanded his way to the street.We soon found out the house, and entered.
"Conscripts!" said the woman of the house, looking at O'Brien; "I ambilleted full already. It must be a mistake. Where is your order?"
"Read," said O'Brien, handing her the letter.
She read the letter, and putting it into her neckerchief, desired him tofollow her. O'Brien beckoned me to come, and we went into a small room."What can I do for you?" said the woman; "I will do all in my power:but, alas! you will march from here in two or three days."
"Never mind," replied O'Brien, "we will talk the matter over by-and-by,but at present only oblige us by letting us remain in this little room;we do not wish to be seen."
"_Comment done_!--you a conscript, and not wish to be seen! Are you,then, intending to desert?"
"Answer me one question; you have read that letter, do you intend to actup to its purport, as your sister requests?"
"As I hope for mercy I will, if I suffer everything. She is a dearsister, and would not write so earnestly if she had not strong reason.My house and everything you command are yours--can I say more?"
"But," continued O'Brien, "suppose I did intend to desert, would youthen assist me?"
"At my peril," replied the woman: "have you not assisted my family whenin difficulty?"
"Well, then, I will not at present detain you from your business; I haveheard you called several times. Let us have dinner when convenient, andwe will remain here."
"If I have any knowledge of phiz--_what d'ye call it_," observedO'Brien, after she left us, "there is honesty in that woman, and I musttrust her, but not yet; we must wait till the conscripts have gone." Iagreed with O'Brien, and we remained talking until an hour afterwards,when the woman brought us our dinner.
"What is your name?" inquired O'Brien.
"Louise Eustache; you might have read it on the letter."
"Are you married?"
"Oh yes, these six years. My husband is seldom at home; he is a Flushingpilot. A hard life, harder even than that of a soldier. Who is thislad?"
"He is my brother, who, if I go as a soldier, intends to volunteer as adrummer."
"_Pauvre enfant! c'est dommage_."
The cabaret was full of conscripts and other people, so that the hostesshad enough to do. At night, we were shown by her into a small bed-room,adjoining the room we occupied. "You are quite alone here; theconscripts are to muster to-morrow, I find, in the _Place d'Armes_, attwo o'clock; do you intend to go?"
"No," replied O'Brien: "they will think that I am behind. It is of noconsequence."
"Well," replied the woman, "do as you please, you may trust me: but I amso busy, without any one to assist me, that until they leave the town, Ican hardly find time to speak to you."
"That will be soon enough, my good hostess," replied O'Brien: "_aurevoir_."
The next evening, the woman came in, in some alarm, stating that aconscript had arrived whose name had been given in before, and that theperson who had given it in, had not mustered at the place. That theconscript had declared, that his pass had been stolen from him by aperson with whom he had stopped at St Nicholas, and that there wereorders for a strict search to be made through the town, as it was knownthat some English officers had escaped, and it was supposed that one ofthem had obtained the pass. "Surely you're not English?" inquired thewoman, looking earnestly at O'Brien.
"Indeed, but I am, my dear," replied O'Brien: "and so is this lad withme: and the favour which your sister requires is, that you help us overthe water, for which service there are one hundred louis ready to bepaid upon delivery of us."
"_Oh, mon Dieu! mais c'est impossible_."
"Impossible!" replied O'Brien; "was that the answer I gave your sisterin her trouble?"
"_Au moins c'est fort difficile_."
"That's quite another concern; but with your husband a pilot, I shouldthink a great part of the difficulty removed."
"My husband! I've no power over him," replied the woman, putting theapron up to her eyes.
"But one hundred louis may have," replied O'Brien.
"There is truth in that," observed the woman, after a pause, "but whatam I to do, if they come to search the house?"
"Send us out of it, until you can find an opportunity to send us toEngland. I leave it all to you--your sister expects it from you."
"And she shall not be disappointed, if God helps us," replied the woman,after a short pause: "but I fear you must leave this house and the townalso to-night."
"How are we to leave the town?"
"I will arrange that; be ready at four o'clock, for the gates are shutat dusk. I must go now, for there is no time to be lost."
"We are in a nice mess now, O'Brien," observed I, after the woman hadquitted the room.
"Devil a bit, Peter; I feel no anxiety whatever, except at leaving suchgood quarters."
We packed up all our effects, not forgetting our two blankets, andwaited the return of the hostess. In about an hour she entered the room."I have spoken to my husband's sister, who lives about two miles on theroad to Middelburg. She is in town now, for it is market-day, and youwill be safe where she hides you. I told her, it was by my husband'srequest, or she would not have consented. Here, boy, put on theseclothes; I will assist you." Once more I was dressed as a girl, and whenmy clothes were on, O'Brien burst out into laughter at my blue stockingsand short petticoats. "_Il n'est pas mal_," observed the hostess, as shefixed a small cap on my head, and then tied a kerchief under my chin,which partly hid my face. O'Brien put on a greatcoat, which the womanhanded to him, with a wide-brimmed hat. "Now follow me!" She led us intothe street, which was thronged, till we arrived at the market-place,when she met another woman, who joined her. At the end of themarket-place stood a small horse and cart, into which the strange womanand I mounted, while O'Brien, by the directions of the landlady, led thehorse through the crowd until we arrived at the barriers, when shewished us good day in a loud voice before the guard. The guard took nonotice of us, and we passed safely through, and found ourselves upon aneatly-paved road, as straight as an arrow, and lined on each side withhigh trees and a ditch. In about an hour, we stopped near to thefarmhouse of the woman who was in charge of us. "Do you observe thatwood?" said she to O'Brien, pointing to one about half a mile from theroad. "I dare not take you into the house, my husband is so violentagainst the English, who captured his schuyt, and made him a poor man,that he would inform against you immediately; but go you there, makeyourselves as comfortable as you can to-night, and to-morrow I will sendyou what you want. _Adieu! Je vous plains, pauvre enfant_." said she,looking at me, as she drove off in the cart towards her own house.
"Peter," said O'Brien, "I think that her kicking us out of her house isa proof of her sincerity, and therefore I say no more about it; we havethe brandy-flask to keep up our spirits. Now then for the wood, though,by the powers, I shall have no relish for any of your pic-nic parties,as they call them, for the next twelve years."
"But, O'Brien, how can I get over this ditch in petticoats? I couldhardly leap it in my own clothes."
"You must tie your petticoats round your waist and make a good run; getover as f
ar as you can, and I will drag you through the rest."
"But you forget that we are to sleep in the wood, and that it's nolaughing matter to get wet through, freezing so hard as it does now."
"Very true, Peter; but as the snow lies so deep upon the ditch, perhapsthe ice may bear. I'll try; if it bears me, it will not condescend tobend at your shrimp of a carcass."
O'Brien tried the ice, which was firm, and we both walked over, andmaking all the haste we could, arrived at the wood, as the woman calledit, but which was not more than a clump of trees of about half an acre.We cleared away the snow for about six feet round a very hollow part,and then O'Brien cut stakes and fixed them in the earth, to which westretched one blanket. The snow being about two feet deep, there wasplenty of room to creep underneath the blanket. We then collected allthe leaves we could, beating the snow off them, and laid them at thebottom of the hole; over the leaves we spread the other blanket, andtaking our bundles in, we then stopped up with snow every side of theupper blanket, except the hole to creep in at. It was quite astonishingwhat a warm place this became in a short time after we had remained init. It was almost too warm, although the weather outside was piercinglycold. After a good meal and a dose of brandy, we both fell fast asleep,but not until I had taken off my woman's attire and resumed my ownclothes. We never slept better or more warmly than we did in this holewhich we had made on the ground, covered with ice and snow.
Peter Simple; and, The Three Cutters, Vol. 1-2 Page 28