No Surrender! A Tale Of The Rising in La Vendee

[Stone]

Chapter 18: Home

"Why did you come down the road?" Leigh asked Monsieur Flambard, as the carriage flew past the little inn. "We had not arranged for that, and in the dark we might have passed it without knowing that it was yours."

"We were on the lookout for you, and had no fear of missing you. I decided to drive back to the town as we went out. I believe the innkeeper to be an honest fellow, and he has been one of our customers for a number of years; but I thought it just as well to throw dust in his eyes. Therefore, as I got into the carriage, I said in his hearing:

"'Don't go through the main streets of the town, but drive round and strike the road beyond it. Keep on to Langon. We shall stop there tonight.'

"We drove off fast, and only broke into a walk just before you met us. The innkeeper would have gone into the house again, before we met; and as I noticed that the shutters were up, he certainly would not have supposed that the vehicle which passed was our carriage, coming back again.

"Well, thank God we are all safe and together! In three hours we shall be at the village. Lefaux was to keep a boat ashore, and to be himself at the inn. There is only one in the village."

The road was a good one, and the horses fast, and in less than an hour and a half they reached the spot where the relay of horses had been stationed. Five minutes sufficed to make the change and, in a little under three hours after starting, they arrived at the village two miles below Fort Medoc. They stopped at the first house.

"Now, Gregoire," Monsieur Flambard said, as they alighted, "here are five louis for yourself. You had better drive back to the place where we changed horses, and put up there for the night. Tomorrow you can go quietly back to Bordeaux. Don't get there until late in the afternoon. Return the carriage and the other two horses to the stables where you hired them, and take my two horses back to our stables.

"You are sure to be questioned, and can tell them the truth. Say that you acted by my orders, and had no idea of the reason for which I had hired the carriage and the extra horses; that you knew that I often made flying visits to the vineyards, and you thought I wanted to see some proprietor of Medoc, on business, and to return as quickly as possible; and were much surprised when you saw that madame went with me. Do not say anything about our picking up my friends on the road."

"I understand, monsieur, and I will stick to that story. God bless you, sir, and you, madame; and I trust that, before long, you will be back again with us."

"I hope so, Gregoire, but I fear it will not be for some time to come."

They now walked forward, Leigh hurrying on in front until he came to the little village inn. It was already closed but, on his knocking violently at the door, a window above was opened.

"What are you making such a noise for, at this time of night?"

"I have come to call Captain Lefaux," he said. "A messenger has just brought an order, from Bordeaux, that he is to get up anchor at daylight."

"I will call him," the landlord said, and in three minutes Lefaux came out.

"We are all here, Lefaux," Leigh said, "and we want to go on board and get up anchor at once, and to be as far down the river as we can, before daylight."

"The saints be praised that you have all escaped, Monsieur Stansfield! We will lose no time. I have two men sleeping in a cottage, close to where the boat is made fast. They sleep on the ground floor, and I can tap at the window and get them out. I told them to turn in as they stood, as they might be wanted at any moment."

The others had now come up, and together they went down to the boat. The tide had turned about an hour before, and the boat was afloat.

"Now, I will fetch the men out," the skipper said, and in five minutes he came down with them.

They untied the head rope of the boat, from the stump to which it was fastened, and hauled it in.

"That is the lugger, I suppose?" Leigh said, pointing to a dark object, a hundred yards from the shore.

"That is her, sir, and it won't take us long to get under weigh. Everything is ready for hoisting sail."

They rowed off to the Henriette, and Leigh could hardly restrain a shout of joy at finding himself once again on board her. The crew had been unchanged since they left Nantes and, tumbling up on deck as they heard the boat coming off, greeted Leigh most heartily; and respectfully saluted Patsey and their owner. They would have broken into cheers, had not their skipper sharply silenced them.

"It will be time enough to cheer when we reach the open sea, lads," he said; "and we will do so more heartily still, when we land Madame Martin, Monsieur Leigh, and the owner and his wife either on English ground, or the deck of an English ship."

"You mistake, captain," Monsieur Flambard said. "As you know, the lugger was only passed over to me by Monsieur Martin to escape confiscation. There is no longer any need that I should appear as owner; and in fact Madame Martin, as representative of her husband, is the owner of the Henriette, and I and my wife are  passengers on board her."

"I hope that you will find it all right below, madame," Captain Lefaux said. "Captain Martin's cabin--we have always called it so--is ready for you and Madame Flambard. Monsieur will take the spare cabin, and Monsieur Leigh mine."

"I will sleep on one of the sofas in the saloon, captain. I should not feel comfortable if I turned you out; and besides, I like being able to pop quietly on deck, whenever I feel inclined: so that is settled."

"Now we will have a tumbler of hot brandy and water," the captain said. "You have had a cold drive.

"What will you take, ladies?"

Both declared that they wanted nothing but to get to bed, and they at once retired to the after cabin with little Louis, who had slept without waking, ever since he had been lifted from his bed at Bordeaux. The captain had given orders, as soon as he came on board, to have the sails hoisted and, as Monsieur Flambard and Leigh sipped their grog, they had the satisfaction of hearing the water rippling past; and of feeling, by the heel of the boat, that there was sufficient wind to send them along at a good rate.

"What is she making, captain?" Leigh asked, as he went up to take a last look round.

"About five knots, but the wind is getting up. There was scarcely a breath when I turned in, at ten o'clock."

"How far do you call it to the mouth of the river?"

"It is about forty miles to the tower of Cordouan. Once past that, we reckon we are at sea."

"Eight hours going, at five knots. It is nearly twelve now. It will be daylight when we get there."

"I hope that we shall be there before that, sir. You have not allowed for the tide, nor for the wind increasing. I reckon we shall be there by six, and day does not begin to break till an hour later.

"I want to get past without being seen. There are always a couple of gunboats lying there. I fancy that they know us pretty well by this time, but sometimes as we go out they make us lie to, and come on board to see that we are not taking off suspected persons, and that any passengers we have tally with those on the manifest. If they should take it into their heads to do that in the morning, it would be awkward; and I am anxious to get past without being seen. Once out of gunshot I do not mind. I fancy that we can show our
heels to either of the gunboats."

Leigh and Monsieur Flambard turned in. The latter slept soundly, but Leigh went frequently on deck.

"She is doing well," the captain said gleefully, "she is going fully seven knots an hour. You see, Master Leigh, I still keep to Captain Martin's terms, and count by knots instead of by leagues. The tide is giving us another two knots. I reckon that, at the rate we are going, we shall keep it pretty nearly down to the mouth of the river. Seven and two are nine, and as I have just been looking up the chart, and as I find that it is but thirty-seven from the village where we started, we shall do it in five hours at the outside.

"The river is wide at the mouth, and by heading south directly we get there, and running so for a couple of miles before we put straight out to sea, there will be no chance whatever of our being seen. Once away, we shall of course lay a course inside the islands till we are off Finisterre; then we can either strike out into the Channel, or coast along as far as Cape la Hague, and thence sail straight for Poole. But there is no occasion to discuss that, at present."

Satisfied with the assurance of the captain, Leigh turned in again at two o'clock, and this time slept soundly. When he awoke the motion of the vessel told him he was at sea, and he saw that it was broad daylight. Leaping off the sofa, he saw by his watch that it was eight o'clock, and he was speedily on deck. The mate was in charge.

"The captain turned in half an hour ago, sir. Do you wish him to be called?"

"Certainly not. Where are we now?"

"We are just passing between the island of Oleron and the mainland."

"Oh, yes, I see. When I came down, of course we saw it from the other way; and I did not recognize it, at first. So we managed to get past Cordouan without being seen?"

"Yes, we rounded the south point of the river before six o'clock, laid her head southwest for an hour and, just as it became light, changed our course north and passed three miles to seaward of the tower. They doubtless supposed that we were coming up from Bayonne. At any rate, they paid no attention to us."

"The wind is blowing pretty strongly."

"Yes, sir, we should have had a rough tumble of sea if it had been from the west, and should have had to lie up under shelter of the island; but as it is blowing right off shore, it is just about the right strength for us, and we shall make a quick run of it if it holds.

"I hear there is no news of Captain Martin, monsieur?"

"No, I am sorry to say there is not; but I have every hope that we shall find he has got to Poole before us."

"We are all hoping that nothing has happened to him. Of course, we heard that he was fighting in La Vendee and, as every one of us comes from one port or another there, we only wished that we had been with him."

"You were well out of it, Edouard. It was a terrible business. No one could have fought better than your people did, but they had all France against them; and few, indeed, of those who were engaged from the first can ever have returned to their homes. And even when they get there there can be no safety for them, for Carrier and his commissioners seem to be determined to annihilate the Vendeans altogether."

The mate indulged in many strong expressions as to the future fate of Carrier and his underlings.

"We heard of that attack on the jail, Master Leigh. I guessed that you were in that, for among the prisoners who were delivered the names of Monsieur Martin and Madame Jean Martin were mentioned."

"Yes, Captain Martin and I were in the thick of it. There was very little fighting to do, for we chose a time when the troops were all busy with Cathelineau's and Stofflet's attack; and we had really only to open the door of the prison, to get them out."

"The captain has been telling us that Monsieur Flambard was also in danger of arrest. It is atrocious. Everyone knows that he is a good master, and I never heard a word said against him."

"That has very little to do with it," Leigh said. "His crime was that he was rich, and the scoundrels wanted his money. They did arrest him, but he was rescued before they got him out of his house, and fortunately everything had been prepared for his flight. At the present moment they are searching high and low for him, and I expect that no craft there will be permitted to leave till she has been thoroughly ransacked, to make sure that he and madame are not hiding there."

"Ah, they are bad times, monsieur. It may be that things were not quite as they might have been, though for my part I never saw anything to grumble at; nor did any other Vendean, as far as I ever heard; but if things had been ten times as bad as they were, they would have been better than what is going on now.

"Why, monsieur, all Europe must think that we Frenchmen are devils. They say that more than a hundred thousand people have been put to death, not counting the loss in La Vendee."

"Which must be quite as much more, Edouard; and it is no consolation to know that the loss of the Blues must have been fully equal to ours."

"How is it to end, monsieur?"

"I think that the first part will end soon. As far as I could find out as we travelled through the country, and in Paris, even the mob are getting sick of this terrible bloodshed. That feeling will get stronger, until finally I believe that Robespierre and his gang will be overturned. What will come after that, I don't know. One may hope that some strong man will rise, drive out the Convention, and establish a fixed government. After that, I should say that no one can guess what will follow."

"There is one consolation, monsieur. No change can be for the worse."

"That is absolutely certain."

He went to the galley.

"Well, cook, when are you going to let us have some breakfast? I am famishing, for I have eaten nothing since twelve o'clock yesterday."

"It will be ready in twenty minutes, monsieur. I was just going to ask you if you would call the ladies, or whether you will take the cafe au lait and eggs to their door."

"I will go and ask them."

He went and knocked at the cabin door.

"Patsey, cafe au lait will be ready in twenty minutes. Will you and Madame Flambard take it in your cabin, or come into the saloon?"

"I am just dressed, and shall be up on deck with Louis in two or three minutes. Madame Flambard will not get up. It is her first voyage, and she will not take anything to eat."

He was just going to knock at the merchant's door, when there was a shout from within:

"I have heard what you are saying, and shall be dressed in ten minutes."

Patsey was soon on deck.

"This is splendid, Leigh! And now that we have got away so wonderfully, I feel more hopeful than I have done before that Jean, also, will have made his escape.

"Well, Louis, what do you think of this? You had better keep hold of your uncle's hand, as well as mine, or you may get a nasty tumble."

"Nasty, bad ship, mama?"

"It is because the wind is blowing hard, and the sea is rough. We had smooth water on our last voyage, you know."

"Louis not like him," he said positively; "very bad ship."

"You will be all right, if you keep hold of your uncle's hand. He will walk up and down with you."

"This is good, indeed," Monsieur Flambard said. "If we go on as well as we have begun, we shall have nothing to grumble at."

The voyage to Ushant was accomplished without any adventure. The lugger was so evidently French that two or three privateers, who passed close by, paid no attention to them; and although they saw the sails of more than one British cruiser, they either escaped observation or were considered too insignificant to be chased.

On the voyage they had agreed that, when they came to Ushant, they would be guided by the wind. If it continued to blow as it had done, from the east, it would be a great loss of time to beat in to Saint Malo, and they would be within sight of England long before they could make in there.

As the wind was unchanged, they therefore laid their course from Ushant for the Isle of Wight. Before they had been many hours out they saw an English brig of war, making toward them. They did not attempt to escape, but slightly changed their course so as to head for her.

As the brig approached, they lowered their mainsail. The brig was thrown up into the wind, a couple of lengths away.

"Send your boat on board!" the captain of the brig shouted.

They had indeed already got the boat over the side.

"You may as well come with me," Leigh said, as he stepped into her. "Monsieur Flambard will take care of Louis while you are away."

Seeing that there was a woman in the boat, the brig lowered its accommodation ladder, and the captain was standing at the gangway.

"We are English, sir," Leigh said. "The lugger is owned by my sister's husband, if he is alive. If not, I suppose it belongs to her. We are escaping from France, with two French friends. My brother-in-law was a Vendean, and has fought through the war. We were with him until, at the attack on Le Mans, we were separated. We hope to meet him at Poole. The vessel traded between that port and Nantes until the war broke out. Some members of the family are already established there, and our father is a magistrate, living within a couple of miles of the town."

"I am sorry, madam, that I cannot offer you a passage; but I must not leave my cruising ground."

"Thank you, sir. We are doing very well in the lugger. We intend to register her as a British vessel; and the crew, who are all Vendeans, will probably remain in our service until things settle down in France."

"And were you through the war too, madam?" the captain asked Patsey.

"Not through the whole of it," she replied. "Our chateau was burned down by the Republicans, and I was carried to the prison at Nantes; and should have been guillotined had not my husband and brother rescued me, when the Vendeans were attacking the town. I remained at the farmhouse, until the Vendeans could no longer maintain themselves in La Vendee and crossed the Loire; then I accompanied my husband."

"Well, madam, I congratulate you heartily on your escape. We heard terrible tales, in England, of what is going on in France."

"However terrible they are, they can hardly give you an idea of the truth. At Nantes, for instance, the guillotine is too slow; and hundreds of men, women, and children are put into boats, which are sunk in the middle of the river. It is too horrible to think of."

"Is there anything that I can do for you, madam? Anything in the way of provisions with which we can supply you?"

"No, thank you, we have everything that we can want."

"Then I will detain you no further," he said, "and can only wish you a pleasant voyage. I see, by the course you are steering, that you are making for the Isle of Wight. You ought to be there tomorrow afternoon."

The boat returned to the lugger, the sails were filled again and, at four next afternoon, the Henriette passed Handfast Point, and headed for the entrance to Poole harbour. As the distance from home lessened, Patsey's excitement increased hourly. She could not sit down for a minute, quietly, but walked restlessly up and down the deck. She had scarcely spoken when Leigh said, after a long look through the telescope:

"I can make out the house on the hill, quite plainly, Patsey."

At any other time Patsey, who dearly loved their old home, would have shown the liveliest interest; but just then her thoughts were all of Jean, and she could spare none for anything else.

"They must have made us out, by this time," she said, as they passed Durleston.

"I should think so, but I don't suppose they watch as we used to do in the old days. The revenue men up there--" and he nodded up the cliff "--must of course see that we are French; and if there are any of them who were here, three or four years ago, no doubt they know us again, and must be wondering what brings us here."

They had scarcely passed Durleston when Patsey sprang on to the rail, holding fast by the shrouds, and gazed intently at the narrow entrance of the channel, between the island and the mainland.

"There is a boat coming out," she exclaimed.

"The coast guard are sure to have launched their boat, as soon as they made us out. They would naturally come out to inquire what a French lugger is doing here."

He went forward with his telescope, and took a long look at the boat.

"Yes, it is the coast guard, rowing six oars."

In a minute or two he went back to his sister.

"Do get down, Patsey," he urged. "Of course they may have news of Jean, but you must not be disappointed, too much, if they have not. You know that we have agreed, all along, that very likely we shall be the first back; and no news cannot be considered as bad news. It will only mean that we must wait."

She shook her head, but did not reply.

"There are three men in the stern," she said at last.

Leigh sprang up onto the rail behind her.

"Yes, there are three sitters."

Suddenly one of the men stood up. The boat was still too far away for the figure to be distinguished. Leigh would have called to the captain, to use his glass; but he feared to hold out even a hope, to Patsey, that Jean might be in the boat.

A minute later the standing figure began to wave his arms wildly.

"It is Jean, it is Jean!" Patsey cried. "He has made me out."

It was well that Leigh had taken his place beside her, for suddenly her figure swayed; his arm closed round her and, calling to the captain to help him, he lowered her and laid her on the deck.

"My sister has fainted. Bring a bucket of water."

Madame Flambard took Patsey from him.

"She thinks she sees her husband in that boat," Leigh said. "Pray try and get her round, before it comes up. I think it must be he; but if it should not be, we will take her below, directly we are sure. It will be a terrible blow to her to be disappointed, now; but possibly they may have news of him, and that would be almost as good as his being here."

"She could not have recognized him, at this distance," Monsieur Flambard said.

"No, she did not; but he would have recognized her. At least, he must have seen that there was a woman standing upon the rail, watching them; and it was hardly likely that, coming in his own boat, it should be anyone but her. I don't see why anyone else should have waved his arms, suddenly, in the way that he did."

He took the bucket of water from Lefaux's hands.

"We think it is Captain Martin," he said. "Run up the shrouds and take a look through the glass."

Then, taking a double handful of water, he dashed it into his sister's face.

"But, monsieur--" Madame Flambard began to remonstrate.

"Oh, it does not matter about her being wet a bit," Leigh said. "The great thing is to bring her round.

"There, she is opening her eyes. I never saw her faint before. She is not that sort."

At this moment, there was a joyous shout from the skipper:

"It is Captain Martin, himself! Hurrah, boys! It is the captain."

The crew broke into joyous shouts.

"It is Jean, Patsey," Leigh said, sharply. "Thank God, it is he.

"Steady, steady!" he added, as his sister suddenly sat up, and held out her arms to be lifted to her feet. "Are you all right, dear? He will not be alongside for some little time. Don't try to get up for a minute or two."

As Madame Flambard supported her, he ran down into the cabin, poured out a little brandy and water, and ran upstairs again with the glass.

"There, dear, drink this. You must be strong enough to greet him, as he comes alongside."

She drank it up, and then he helped her to her feet. She stood leaning on the rail, but unable to see the boat through her tears. Leigh ran up a few of the ratlines and waved his cap and, two or three minutes later, the whole crew, clustered along the side, raised a loud cheer as the boat came near.

Patsey held out her arms to Jean, who had, after his first eager signal, dropped back into his seat; and sat there, with his face covered in his hands, until within two or three hundred yards of the lugger. Then he had stood up again. He waved his cap in reply to the cheers of the crew, but his eyes were fixed upon Patsey.

As the boat came alongside he sprang on to the channel, swung himself over the rail, Patsey falling into his arms as his feet touched the deck. The others all drew back and, for two or three minutes, husband and wife stood together. Then Jean, placing Patsey in a chair, turned and embraced Leigh warmly.

"I felt sure that you would bring her back safely," he said. "I never allowed myself to doubt it, for a minute; and as soon as I made the lugger out, from the height there, I was sure that she was on board; and ran down to the coast guard station, and Captain Whittier and the crew were in her, in a couple of minutes.

"Where is Louis?"

"Here he is!" Monsieur Flambard said, coming forward with the child in his arms.

Louis knew his father at once, and greeted him with a little shout of pleasure.

"And you, too, Flambard?" Jean said, after he had kissed and embraced his boy. "I am glad indeed that you, too, have escaped from that inferno they call France."

"Yes, and my wife too, Martin; and, like your wife, we owe our safety to Leigh."

Although they had not met before, Jean and Madame Flambard shook hands as warmly as if they had been old friends, filled as they were by a common happiness.

Captain Whittier now came on board. He had hitherto remained in the boat, in order that the family meetings should be got over before he showed himself.

"I am glad to see you, Master Leigh," he said, shaking hands as he spoke; "though I certainly should not have known you again. You ought no longer to be called Master Leigh, for you are a grown man. We have talked of you, often and often; and it was not until Captain Martin arrived, a week ago, that we had any idea of what
had become of you.

"Everyone will be glad to know that you are safely back; and you too, Mrs. Martin. Everyone has missed Miss Patsey, as they still call you when they speak of you."

Jean had been shaking hands with Lefaux and the crew, and now returned.

"I don't know how we stand with this craft, captain. She has come into port of her own free will, and not as a prize. I claim that she is the property of a French Royalist, now an emigre; and as England, so far from being at war with French Royalists, is their ally, I intend to transfer her to my wife, and to have her registered as an English ship."

"Well, I suppose that you will have to settle that with the authorities, Captain Martin; but I should think that you are right, for other French craft have come across with emigres, and have always been allowed to return. Is there any cargo on board?"

"None," Leigh said. "She left Bordeaux the moment she discharged the cargo she brought there."

As they dropped anchor off the island another boat came alongside, with Mr. Stansfield and his two sons, and there was again a scene of tender greeting between them, her, and Leigh.

"Where is Polly?" Patsey asked.

"She was married, two years ago," her father said, "to Harry King, the son of the banker, you know. Of course, she lives in Poole now.

"And so this is your little boy?"

"Yes, but he cannot understand you, at present. We have always talked French with him since the troubles began as, had he spoken a word or two of English, it might have been fatal to him, and to us; but he will soon pick it up, now he is among you all."

It was a happy party, indeed, that evening at Netherstock, where Mr. Stansfield had insisted that Monsieur and Madame Flambard should stay, till they could find a lodging to suit them in Poole. Madame Martin and her daughter, Louise, arrived a few minutes after the others had reached the house; as Jean had sent off a boy to tell them, as soon as he made out the lugger; and a little later Patsey's sister, Polly, came over from Poole.

At first, innumerable questions were asked on each side; and then Leigh related all that had happened, since they left Le Mans. Monsieur Flambard interrupted, when it came to the point where Leigh had rescued him and his wife, and gave full particulars of it to Jean, who translated it to the others. Then it came to Jean's turn.

"I was with Rochejaquelein," he said. "We had made our last charge down on the head of the enemy's column. It was hot work. Desailles was shot through the head, close by my side and, as we rode off, I felt my horse stumble, and knew that it was hit. Almost at the same moment my sword fell from my hand, my right arm being broken by a musket ball.

"La Rochejaquelein had given orders that this charge was to be the last. He knew that, by this time, the main part of the army would have left the town. My horse lagged behind the others, and I was just turning it to ride to our meeting place, when it fell under me.

"I decided at once not to attempt to come to the rendezvous. In the first place, I felt sure that you had already followed out my instructions; and in the next place, had I joined you, I should have ruined your chance of escape. Being dismounted, I should have hampered your flight and, even had we escaped pursuit, your having a man with a broken arm with you would, everywhere, have roused suspicion. I therefore determined to go as far as I could, and then hide in a wood and shift for myself.

"I got a peasant, who was running past me, to stop for a moment and bind my arm tightly with my sash. It was broken high up. I walked, for two or three hours, in the direction opposite to that in which the army had retreated. The peasant who had bound my arm up accompanied me. I found that he came from a farm near us. He had recognized me at once, but I had not noticed who it was. I told him to try and save himself, but he would not hear of it.

"'Monsieur will require my aid," he said, 'and it is my duty to render it. Besides, I am as likely to escape one way as the other. Monsieur knows more about the roads than I do, and will be able to direct me.'

"Of course, I assented, for I was glad indeed to have him with me. As soon as we hid up in a wood, he cut two strips of bark off the trunk of a young tree, cut off the sleeve of my coat and shirt, put the arm straight and, with a strip torn off my sash first bandaged it, and then applied the two pieces of bark as splints, and finally bound another bandage round them.

"He had carried with him the blanket and valises he had taken off the saddle. The latter contained a bottle of wine, and some food, and on this we lived for three days. Then I determined upon starting. He went out in the evening and managed to buy, at a cottage, two loaves of bread and a couple of bottles of wine. We divided these. Then I put on my disguise, and we started in different directions, he making south for the river, which I trust the good fellow managed to reach and cross safely, while I struck north.

"My wine and bread lasted me for four days, by which time I had arrived at Louviers, on the Seine. I was now a hundred miles from Le Mans, and altogether beyond the line of action. I felt comparatively safe. My arm was so painful, however, that I felt that, at whatever risk, I must see a surgeon.

"I went first to an inn, where my appearance as a stranger, and without means of conveyance, excited the surprise of the landlord.

"'You are hurt, monsieur,' he said.

"'Yes; my horse fell under me and threw me heavily, and broke my arm. Before I could recover myself, it had run away. Fortunately a peasant who was going by bandaged my arm up, and I was able to walk on here. Who is the best surgeon in the place?'

"He mentioned the name of the doctor, and said that he had the reputation of being very skilful and kind. He offered to send for him but, being close by, I said that I would rather go to him.

"The man's face gave me confidence, as soon as I entered. I knew that it would be of no use to tell him the story of a fall, and I said at once:

"'Monsieur, I believe doctors are like confessors, and that they keep the secrets of their patients.'

"He smiled.

"'Monsieur has a secret, then?'

"'I have,' I said. 'I have had my arm broken by a musket ball--it does not matter how or when, does it?'

"'In no way,' he said; 'my business is simply to do what I can for you.'

"'It is seven days old,' I said, 'and is horribly painful and inflamed.'

"He examined the wound.

"'The bone is badly broken,' he said. 'It is well for you that it has been bound up with some skill, and that these rough splints have kept it in its place. Of course, what you require is rest and quiet. Without cutting down to the bone I cannot tell how badly it is splintered and, in the state of inflammation that it is now in, I could not venture upon that. I can only rebandage it again, and give you a lotion to pour over it, from time to time.

"Tell me frankly what you are. You can trust me.'

"'I am a sailor,' I said, 'captain of my own craft. I am also a Vendean and, as the cause is now lost, I am making my way down to the sea. I hope, in some way or other, to make my escape to England, where I have friends, my wife being an Englishwoman. What I require more than anything is a suit of sailor's clothes.'

"'I will do what I can to help you, my friend. I am not one of those who think that France can be regenerated by the slaughter of the whole of the best of her people, and by all power being given to the worst.

"'Let me see; I cannot go and buy sailor's clothes myself, but my old servant can be trusted absolutely. There is a shop down by the river where such things are sold. I will get her to go down there, and say that she has a nephew just arrived from sea, and that she wants to give him a new rig out; but as he has hurt himself, and cannot come, she must choose it. What is your height?'

"'About five foot ten,' I said.

"'And how broad round the shoulders?'

"'Forty-three inches. I have plenty of money to pay for all that is necessary, and more,' and I took out my roll of assignats.

"'Since you are well provided,' he said, 'I will take some. The people are very poor, and we all suffer together. They pay me when they can and, so that I can make ends meet, I am well content.'

"In an hour the woman returned, with a suit of rough sailor's clothes, and you may imagine how glad I was to put them on, the doctor helping me on with the jacket.

"'Now,' he said, when I had dressed and eaten some food the old servant had set before me, 'it happens that at daybreak tomorrow one of my patients, the master of a river boat, is starting on the turn of tide for Honfleur. I will first go round to the auberge, and tell the landlord that your arm is badly broken, and that I shall keep you here for the night, as you will require attention; then I will go to the captain, and arrange for your passage. When I tell him that you are a patient of mine, and that I should be obliged if he would find you some quiet lodging at Honfleur, where you can remain till your arm is better and you are fit to be about again, I have no doubt he will manage it. He is a good fellow, and I shall let him understand that you don't want inquiries made about you.

"'Now, you had better lie down on a bed upstairs, and try to sleep. I will call you in time to go down to the boat.'

"'There is no fear of my getting you into trouble?' I asked. 'I would rather go on to Honfleur by road at once, than do so.'

"'There is no fear of that; the maire is a friend and patient of mine. And if, as may be the case, the landlord mentions the arrival of a stranger, and his coming to me; I shall simply tell the maire that, your arm being badly broken, I kept you for the night, and then sent you on by boat; and that as for papers, not being a gendarme, I never thought of asking you for them.'

"The next morning he dressed my arm again, and then himself took me down to the boat, and handed me over to its skipper. He absolutely refused any payment for his services; but I insisted on his receiving a couple of hundred francs, in assignats, for the use of his poorer patients.

"The skipper carried out his instructions to the letter. We got to Honfleur after dark, on the day after starting, and he went with me to the cottage of a widow of his acquaintance.

"He said to her, 'Mother, I want you to take care of this young sailor. He has broken his arm, and wants nursing. He does not want his being here to be known, because he is afraid he might be packed off in one of the ships of war, as soon as he recovers. I suppose you can manage that?'

"'Oh, yes,' she said; 'I have very few visitors, and no one would guess that I have anyone upstairs.'

"'He has plenty of money to pay your charges. Now I will leave him with you, and will look in tomorrow, to see how he is getting on.'

"I stayed there a fortnight, by which time the inflammation had pretty well subsided. No one could be kinder than the old woman was. She used to bathe my arm by the hour, and she fed me up with broth.

"At the end of that time I felt ready for work, though my arm was of course useless. So, having paid my account, I went down boldly to the river and crossed to Harfleur, and then went on to Havre. I stayed there for a couple of days, at a sailors' cabaret; where they supposed that I belonged to a vessel in port, and no questions were asked.

"Finding that it would be difficult to pass the gunboat lying there, I walked up to Fecamp, picked out a likely looking boat afloat by the quay; and at night got on board, rowed quietly out, and then managed to get the sail hoisted. The wind was offshore, and by the morning I was out of sight of the French coast. I laid my course for Portsmouth, and landed there that evening. Being fortunately able to speak English, I had only to leave the boat tied up to the quay, and go up to a small inn close by. I slept there, crossed to Gosport, and walked to Southampton the next morning; and got into Poole on the following day, and soon found where my mother and sister were staying.

"So you see I had, altogether, very little adventure on my way from Le Mans. Since then, I have spent most of my time up here sweeping the water with your father's glass. I had been watching the Henriette, for hours, before she came near enough for me to be sure that it was she; though of course, I could see that she was a French-rigged boat.

"As soon as I made her out I sent off word to my mother, and ran down to the coast guard station. I felt sure that you were on board, for otherwise the lugger would not have come over here. Still, of course, I could not be absolutely certain until I saw that the figure I could make out, standing on the rail, was that of a woman."

It was some little time before their plans were finally decided upon. It was evident that, at present, no trade could be done in French wines. However, as Jean, his mother, and his friend Flambard had sufficient capital to enable them to live without trade, for some time, they agreed that they should establish themselves at once, in London, as wine merchants. Flambard had correspondents in Spain and Portugal, from whom he could obtain wine of these countries; and they agreed that Poole did not offer opportunities for carrying on any considerable trade. Both insisted that Leigh should become a member of the firm and, a month after their arrival at Poole, the party moved up to London.

Madame Martin, her daughter, Jean and his wife took a house, between them, at Hackney; and Monsieur Flambard and his wife
established themselves in another, a few hundred yards away.

From time to time came scraps of news from across the Channel. La Rochejaquelein and Stofflet, after being separated from their followers when crossing the Loire, had gathered a small band together, and gained some successes over parties of the enemy. Two grenadiers, after one of these skirmishes, were on the point of being shot by the peasants when Henri came up to save their lives. One of the prisoners, however, recognizing the gallant leader of the Vendeans, raised his musket and shot him dead.

It was not for two years after this that the struggle was finally brought to a conclusion, for the heroic people of La Vendee continued to resist all the efforts of their enemies; until Stofflet and Charette were captured and executed, the one in February, 1796, the other in the following month. The moderation and judgment of General Hoche finally brought about the end of a war which stands unexampled, in history, for the noble resistance offered by a small body of peasants to the power of a great country.

As soon as Monsieur Flambard heard, from his correspondents abroad, that a consignment of wine was on its way they took an office; for it had already been agreed that, having no connection for sales to private customers, they would work only as wholesale merchants, dealing with the trade and with large hotels and other establishments, contenting themselves with the smallest possible rate of profit until they made a connection; and at the end of two or three years, they were doing a considerable business.

The Henriette sailed for France, shortly after their arrival in Poole, as the crew preferred returning home. Lefaux was to trade as before and, being so well known at all the western ports, was certain of obtaining freights. He was to pay wages and all other expenses, and to transmit the balance as opportunity occurred.

Three years later, when the internal affairs of the country had calmed down, Jean managed to get a letter sent to the priest of their village, asking him to inquire about Marthe; and after a considerable time an answer was received, saying that she and Francois had reached home in safety, had been married shortly after their return, and were doing well; having, with their joint savings, purchased at a very low price one of Jean's confiscated farms.

Ten years later the firm of Flambard, Martin, & Stansfield were doing a large business, and when the war came to a termination, and trade with Bordeaux, Charente, and Nantes was renewed, Monsieur Flambard returned to Bordeaux and, having a large connection there, the firm soon became known as the largest importers of foreign
wines in London.

Madame Martin had, long before that, died. Patsey was the mother of three boys and two girls, and Leigh had a separate establishment of his own, and had been for fifteen years a married man. Mr. Stansfield was still alive, and things went on at Netherstock in very much the same fashion as before Patsey left home.

Jacques Martin had been one of the many who were guillotined when the terror came to an end, after the death of Robespierre.



THE END.