Paul Gerrard Part 19

At last they heard the tramp of horses' hoofs, and about a quarter of an hour afterwards, though they thought it much longer, Rosalie appeared with a tray, with coffee, and eggs, and bread, and other substantial fare. They were down the ladder in a twinkling, and warmly expressing their thanks. They did not require much pressing to set to; indeed, O'Grady had begun to cast ravenous glances at the viands alternately, with affectionate ones towards her, while Paul was translating what he desired him to say. She looked very pale, and told them that she had been very anxious, though the gendarmes had come, not to look for them, but for a political criminal, a royalist of rank, who had been concealed in the chateau, but had fortunately escaped. About noon she came back with a very nice old gentleman, a perfect picture of a French man of rank of the old school--buckles, knee-breeches, flowered waistcoat, bag, wig, and all. She introduced him as _Mon Oncle_. He at once began to talk with Paul, and soon became communicative.

"I once had two brave boys," he said. "I have lost both of them. One perished at sea; the other has been desperately wounded fighting in a cause he detests; yet he was dragged away without the power of escaping.

I scarcely expect to see him again; but if he recovers, my prayer is that he may be taken prisoner, for I am sure that he will be kindly treated by the brave English people. That is one of the reasons that I desire to help you. I have other reasons. One is, that I hope through the English the cause I espouse may triumph. I am sorry to say, however, that my chateau is no longer a safe abode for you. It will be subject to frequent visits from the police, and I myself may be dragged away with all my domestics, when you must either starve or be discovered."

The mids.h.i.+pmen agreed to the wisdom of this, and Paul, after thanking the old gentleman again and again for the refuge he had afforded them, said that they thought with him that it would be wise for them to start immediately on their journey to the north. They had consulted with Rosalie how they were to proceed, and they thought with her that they might make their way dressed as country lads from some place in the south of France where a patois was spoken scarcely known in the north; that he, Paul, was to act as spokesman, and that O'Grady was to pretend to be deaf and dumb. As a reason for their journey, Paul was to state that their father was a sailor, and that they had heard he was lying wounded at some place on the coast, and wanted to see them before he died.

This story, it must be understood, was concocted by Miss Rosalie, whose active fingers had been engaged night and day for nearly a week in making the costumes for the two mids.h.i.+pmen. They had reason to be thankful to her. The day was spent in preparing for the journey. The clothes fitted beautifully. Rosalie said that she did not know she was so good a tailor. The difficulty was to make them look sufficiently worn. Rosalie suggested, however, that they were to be the grandsons of a small farmer of a respectable cla.s.s, by whom they had been brought up, and that therefore they would be well clothed, with some little money in their pockets. She had also fastened up in two belts some gold and silver coins, all the little money she possessed, and she told them that they must take it and repay her when they could. O'Grady, who fully intended to come back, had no hesitation about accepting the money, but Paul wished that they could manage without it; however, he yielded when the former observed, "You don't suppose that we can get on without money in France more than in any other country, and if we intend to starve we had better have remained prisoners."

In the afternoon Jaques drove the cart into the court-yard, and backed it up to the door by which they had entered. Rosalie came up to the mids.h.i.+pmen; her eyes were red with crying; still she looked very pretty.

"I have come to tell you that it is time for you to go; you will follow out the directions you have received as nearly as possible."

It had been arranged that they should go on in the cart till dark, and then walk as far as they could on foot during the night, concealing themselves in some secluded spot in the day-time. If they were discovered, they were to plead fatigue for resting; they were not to court observation, though they were not to dread it, if it could not be avoided. They were, however, on no account to enter a town, by night or by day, if they could help it. No one, indeed, could have arranged a more perfect plan than Miss Rosalie had done. There's nothing like the wits of an honest clear-sighted woman when people are in trouble, to get them out of it.

Rosalie had provided them with wallets well filled with food, so that they need not for some days stop at any village to procure food--not, indeed, till they were well to the north of the line of road the Brest prisoners pa.s.sed.

Both the mids.h.i.+pmen were very, very sorry at having to part from Rosalie, and O'Grady felt more in love with her than ever; still they must be away. Her uncle gave them a kind embrace, and she accompanied them down-stairs, and kissing them both as if they were young brothers going to school, hurried them into the cart. It was loaded with sacks of corn going to the mill to be ground, with several span new sacks to fill with flour. There was a clear s.p.a.ce formed by placing two sacks across two others, with the empty sacks thrown over the inner end. Into this they crept. They could look out from behind the loose sacks, and as the cart drove out of the court-yard they could see Rosalie watching them with her ap.r.o.n to her eyes. They drove rapidly on, though more than once Jaques stopped and talked to some one, and then on he went at the same pace as before. One man asked for a lift, but he laughed and said, that the cart was already laden heavily enough with so many sacks of wheat, and that it would break down if a burly fellow like the speaker were to get into it, or the horse would refuse to go. It was getting dark, but the sky was clear, and as they could see the stars by which to steer, they had little doubt that they should find their way.

Jaques drew up in a solitary spot a little off the read.

"Farewell, young gentlemen, farewell!" he said, as he helped them to get from under the sacks: "may you reach your native land in safety. Go straight along that road; you will make good way before the morning. I wish that I could go further with you, but I dare not. Farewell, farewell!" Saying this, he shook them by the hand, and giving them a gentle shove on in the direction they were to take, as if his heart longed to go with them, he jumped into the cart and drove rapidly away.

They now felt for the first time how helpless they were, and the difficulty of their undertaking; but they were brave lads, and quickly again plucked up courage. They had been provided with sticks, and trudged on boldly. Mile after mile of dusty road, up and down hill, and along dead flats, were traversed.

"It will make us sleep all the sounder," observed O'Grady, who had a happy facility for making the best of everything. "If we were at sea now we should have to be pacing the deck with a cold breeze in our teeth, and maybe an occasional salt shower-bath."

Paul agreed, though they were not sorry when daylight came and warned them to look out for a resting-place. They saw a forest some way from the high road, and, going into it, before long discovered numerous piles of wood prepared for burning.

"They are not likely to be removed for some time," observed O'Grady; "if they do, they will begin on the outer ones, and we shall have time to decamp. Let's make ourselves some nests inside; see, there is plenty of dry gra.s.s, and we shall sleep as comfortable as on beds of down."

By removing some of the logs the work was easily accomplished, and no one outside would have observed what they had done. They crept in, and were very soon fast asleep. They awoke perfectly rested, and prepared to resume their journey; but on looking out they found that it was not much past noon, and that they had the greater part of the day to wait.

This they did not at all like. O'Grady was for pus.h.i.+ng on in spite of their first resolutions; Paul wished to remain patiently till the evening. No one had come to remove the wood, so that they were not likely to be disturbed. As they were hungry they ate some dinner, emptying their bottle of wine, and then tried to go to sleep again--not a difficult task for mids.h.i.+pmen.

Paul, after some time, was awoke by hearing some one singing. He touched O'Grady's arm. They listened. The words were English, and they both had an idea that they knew the voice. The singer appeared to be near, and employed in removing the logs of wood. Paul slowly lifted up his head. A shout and an expression indicative of astonishment escaped from the singer, who stood, like one transfixed, gazing at Paul. The shout made O'Grady lift up his head, and they had ample time to contemplate the strange figure before them. His dress was of the most extraordinary patchwork, though blue and white predominated. On his head, instead of a hat, he wore a wisp of straw, secured by a handkerchief; his feet were also protected by wisps of straw, and round his waist he wore a belt with an axe stuck in it. Altogether, he did not look like a man possessed with much of this world's wealth. The mids.h.i.+pmen looked at him, and he looked at the mids.h.i.+pmen, for a minute or more without speaking.

"It is--no it isn't--yes it is!" exclaimed the man at length. "Why, young gentlemen, is it really you? you looks so transmogrified, I for one shouldn't have known you!"

"What, Reuben Cole, is it really you? I may ask," cried Paul, springing out of his lair, and shaking him by the hand, followed by O'Grady.

"This is a fortunate meeting."

"Why, that's as it may turn out; but how did you come to look like that?"

Paul told him, and then put the same question to him.

"Why, do ye see, when I got away from our Jennydams, I found a hole in the hillside close under where I jumped off the road. Thinks I to myself, if I tumbles in here, they'll all go pelting away down the hill through the wood, leaving me snug; and so they did. I heard them halloing, and cursing, and swearing at one another, and I all the time felt just like an old fox in his cover till they'd gone away on their road wondering where I'd gone. I then started up and ran down the hill just in time to see a cart driven by a man in white. I shouted, but he didn't hear me, and so I hoped it would be all right for you, at all events. Then I went back to my hole, and thinks I to myself, if I goes wandering about in this guise I'll sure to be taken: so I remembers that I'd got in my pocket the housewife my old mother gave me, and which the rascally privateer's-men hadn't stolen; so out I takes it and sets to work to make up my clothes in a new fas.h.i.+on. I couldn't make myself into a mounseer--little or big--by no manner of means, so I just transmogrified my clothes as you see them, that I mightn't be like a runaway prisoner. It took me two days before I was fit to be seen-- pretty smart work; and that's how the servant the old gentleman sent out missed me. At last I set out for the sea; but I was very hungry, and I can't say if I'd fallen in with a hen-roost what I'd have done. I got some nuts and fruit though, enough to keep body and soul together.

Three days I wandered on, when I found myself in this very wood. I was getting wickedly hungry, and I was thinking I must go out and beg, when I sees a cart and a man coming along, so I up and axes him quite civilly if he'd a bit of a dinner left for a poor fellow. I was taken all aback with astonishment when he speaks to me in English, and tells me that he'd been some months in a prison across the Channel, and knows our lingo, and that he was treated so kindly that he'd sworn he'd never bear arms against us again, if he could help it. With that he gives me some bread and cheese and wine, and when his day's work was over he takes me to his house, at the borders of the forest, near a village. As I wouldn't eat the bread of idleness, I offered to help him, and as I can handle an axe with most men, I have been working away ever since as a wood-cutter. Now I know that if you'll come with me to his cottage, he'll gladly give you lodging and food as long as you like to stay, and then, of course, I must pack up and be off with you."

The mids.h.i.+pmen told Reuben how glad they were to find him, though they agreed that by his travelling on with them their difficulties would be somewhat increased, as they were puzzled to know what character he could a.s.sume. He was so thoroughly the English sailor that even his very walk would betray him.

He acknowledged this; but after scratching his head for five minutes, and giving sundry tugs at his rather curious-looking breeches, he exclaimed: "I've hit it. I'll go on crutches and follow in your wake; when no one is looking I'll make play, and I'll keep up with you, I'll warrant. If I'm axed who I am, I'll pretend that I'm a 'Talian, or some other furriner, who can't speak the French lingo, and just make all sorts of gabblifications. Just you leave it to me, young gentlemen, if you'll let me come with you."

Though there was considerable risk in the plan, the mids.h.i.+pmen could think of no other. They agreed to go to the wood-cutter's hut, and if, after talking the matter over, they could not improve on Reuben's plan, to start the following evening. Having a.s.sisted him to load his cart, they set forward at once. The path led them for most of the way through the forest. It was still broad daylight when they approached the cottage. It stood at the edge of a green, on which a number of villagers were seen collected. They were themselves perceived before they had time to retreat, which it would have been wise for them, they felt, to do.

"Let us put a bold face on the matter and go forward!" exclaimed O'Grady. "Reuben, go on with the cart; we had better have nothing to say to you at present."

They at once walked on towards the villagers without exhibiting any marks of hesitation. Reuben looked after them with as indifferent an air as he could a.s.sume, as he drove his cart up to the woodman's cottage.

"I see a high road; let us turn towards it, and walk along it as if we were not going to stop at the village," observed Paul; "we may thus avoid questions, and we may come back to the wood-cutter's when it is dark; Reuben will prepare him for our appearance."

O'Grady agreed to this plan, and they were walking along pretty briskly, hoping to pa.s.s an auberge, or inn, at the side of the road, when the aubergiste, or inn-keeper, who happened to be in very good humour after his evening potations, caught sight of them, and shouted out, "Come in, come in, mes garcons! there is no other auberge in the place, and you would not pa.s.s by the house of Francois le Gros!" And he patted his well-stuffed-out ribs, for there are fat Frenchmen as well as fat Englishmen.

Thus appealed to, the mids.h.i.+pmen thought it wiser to go up to the man, and Paul told him that as they had very little money, they preferred stopping out at night when the weather was fine.

"That will never do," cried honest Francois. "Tell me all about yourselves, and you shall have board and lodging free. Numerous great people stop here, and so does the diligence, and as I am patronised by all around, I can afford at times to help young wayfarers like yourselves."

Paul, anxious especially to avoid so public a place as an inn, made more excuses. While he was speaking the landlord looked very hard at him.

Several other villagers did the same.

"Why, you do not look very like what you say you are!" he exclaimed.

"Come nearer, and let me have a better look at you."

"Thank you," said Paul; "if you don't believe me, I won't ask you to do so; but let us go on, and we will not trouble you."

This speech did not satisfy the landlord, and several disagreeable remarks were made by the bystanders. Altogether, matters were looking very bad, when the attention of the villagers was called off by the sound of the loud cracks of whips, the tramping of horses, the rumbling of wheels, and the appearance of a cloud of dust, out of which emerged a huge lumbering vehicle with a vast hood in front, a long big body covered with boxes and baskets, and drawn by six horses, governed by two postillions dressed in huge jack boots, c.o.c.ked hats, and gold-laced coats. They dashed up to the inn with as much clatter and noise as they could make. More of the villagers collected; and while the horses were being brought out, and the landlord was engaged in attending to his customers, O'Grady whispered to Paul that he thought they might possibly slip out of the crowd un.o.bserved; and while some of the villagers had to move out of the way of the released horses, they moved round on the other side of the diligence and walked rapidly along the road.

At that moment Francois had come out with a jug of wine for an old gentleman in the inside, and as he was returning, his eye fell on the fugitives. His suspicions now increased; he shouted to some of his cronies to make chase and bring them back. As the villagers were making holiday and had nothing to do, a dozen or more set off in chase.

"I wish that we hadn't tried to get away," said Paul. "Let's go back boldly, and say that we hoped to get on to the next village; but as they are determined to keep us, we will stay with them."

They, however, had barely time to turn before their pursuers were upon them; and in no very happy state of mind they were dragged back to the village. They came in sight of the inn just as the diligence had driven off. One pa.s.senger had remained behind, who stood watching them with a look of considerable interest while the landlord was describing to him how they had made their appearance, and expressing his opinion that they were no better than they should be.

CHAPTER TEN.

Paul and O'Grady, as they were dragged back by the villagers to the inn, felt certain that their true character would be discovered, and that they would be sent to prison. Paul was especially unhappy under the belief that his bad French had betrayed him. He wished that he could give Reuben warning to keep out of the way of the meddling villagers, lest he also should be captured. Still, he was not a lad to give in, and he determined to play the part he had a.s.sumed as long as he could.

When the villagers saw Francois, they shouted out to him that they had got the young rogues fast enough. Paul at once began to expostulate with the inn-keeper, and, with a volubility which did him credit, gave the whole story which had been arranged by Rosalie. The traveller, who had retired on one side, but had remained near enough to hear what Paul said, now stepped forward, exclaiming, "Of course--all they say is true.

I know all about them. Their grandfather is a most estimable man--a tenant of my maternal uncle, the Sieur Caudbec. I saw him when last I was in the south of France, and these lads, I think I saw them--yes, surely I know both of them. You know me, the son of the Baron de Montauban--one who was always kind to the poor, and a friend of true liberty."

Paul glanced at the speaker; he was very young. He looked again. There could be no doubt about it. Though somewhat disguised by his travelling costume and civilian's dress, there stood before him Alphonse Montauban.

He ran forward and took Alphonse's hand, not to shake it, however, but, remembering their supposed relative ranks, to put it to his lips.

O'Grady, though not understanding what had been said, and wondering why he did so, followed his example.

"Come, worthy Francois," said Alphonse; "though I had intended to proceed across the country, I will rest here to-night; and as I take an interest in the family of these lads, they shall spend the evening with me, and live at my cost. Let a good supper be prepared for us all, and, mark you, a bottle of your best wine."

Saying this, Alphonse led the way into the inn. He stopped at the door, however, and taking some money out of his purse, handed it to the landlord, saying, "Let some of these honest people here, after their quick run, have wherewithal to drink my health."

Alphonse, with considerable dignity, walked into a private room in the inn, and taking a chair, beckoned to the seeming peasant lads to sit near him, while the landlord received his orders for supper. As soon as Francois had retired, he burst into a fit of laughter, and, jumping up, shook the mids.h.i.+pmen warmly by the hand, and begged them to tell him how they came to be there. They gave him, as rapidly as they could, an account of their adventures.

"And do you not know the name of the old gentleman, 'mon oncle,' as you call him, and that of the chateau? But I do. He is my dear father, and that pretty little Rosalie is my very sweet cousin. The story is just such as I could have supposed she would have invented. And they think me dead. That is very natural, for when the _Alerte_ escaped from the _Cerberus_, of course her people would have reported all on board their consort drowned. You will be surprised that I should not have reached home before this, but I had a long voyage, and as I had no wish to go to sea again, when I found on landing that it was not known I had escaped, I made the best of my way to the house of a relative near the coast, who provided me with clothing and funds, and I have only lately been able to commence my journey homeward. Now, however, I have a great inclination to turn back and to see you safely embarked to cross the Channel."