By Conduct and Courage: A Story of the Days of Nelson

“But why have you left?”

“I came away because the girl I was engaged to jilted me for a richer suitor, and I could not stop there to see her married; I should have cut his throat or my own. So I have tramped down here to see if I can find some work for a time.”

“You are a fool for your pains,” the skipper said. “No girl is worth it.”

“Ah, you never could have been jilted! If you had been you wouldn’t think so lightly of it.”

“Well, mates, what do you say? Shall we take this young fellow? He looks strong and active, and I dare say will suit us.”

“At any rate we can give him a trial for a voyage or two.”

“Well, you may begin by helping us up into the town with our fish. We have had a heavy catch to-day.”

Will at once shouldered a basket and went up with them to the market-place.

“We are going to get a drink,” the fisherman said. “Let us see how well you can sell for us. You must get a franc a kilogramme. Here are scales.”

For a couple of hours Will sold fish, attracting, by his pleasant face, buyers who might otherwise have passed him; and when the fishermen returned they were pleased to find that he had almost sold out their stock, and accounted for his take to the last sou.

“I have been watching you all the time,” the captain said,“though you did not know. I wanted to see if you were honest, and, now that I have a proof of it, will take you willingly. The pay is twelve francs a week and a tenth share in the sales. The boat takes a third, I take two, and the sailors take one apiece, and you will have half a share besides your pay till you know your business. Do you agree to that?”

“Yes,” Will said.

Accordingly he settled down to the work of a fisherman, and gave great satisfaction. His mates were indeed astonished at the rapidity with which he learned his work, and congratulated themselves upon the acquisition of so promising a recruit.

A month after he had joined the smack a ship-of-war was seen sailing along three miles from shore. The fishermen were half-way between her and the land, and paid no great attention to her, knowing that British men-of-war did not condescend to meddle with small fishing-boats. Will waited until the captain and one of the men were below; then, suddenly pushing the hatch to and throwing a coil of rope over it, he produced from his pockets a brace of pistols which he had bought at Dunkirk out of the stock of money he had had in his pocket when he was captured, and ordered the man at the helm to steer for the frigate. The man let go the tiller at once, and he and his companion prepared to make a rush upon Will. But the sight of the levelled pistols checked them.

“You will come to no harm,” Will said. “You have but to put me on board, and I warrant you shall be allowed to depart unmolested. I am an English officer. Now, down with the helm without hesitation, or I will put a bullet through your head; and do you, Jacques, sit down by his side.”

Sullenly the men obeyed his orders, and the boat went dancing through the water in a direction which, Will calculated, would enable him to cut off the frigate. In the meantime the captain and his companion, unable to understand what was going on, were thumping at the hatchway. Will, however, paid no attention to them, but stood on it, keeping his eye upon the men in the stern. Twenty minutes brought them close to the frigate, which, on seeing a small boat making for her, threw her sails aback to wait for it. As they came close a rope was thrown; Will grasped it and swung himself up the side, leaving the boat to drift away. The sailors stood looking in surprise at him, but Will went straight up to the first lieutenant.

“I beg to report myself as having come on board, sir. I am, or rather was, a midshipman on board the Tartar. I have just escaped from Verdun.”

“Do you really mean it?” the lieutenant said. “I thought only one or two English prisoners had ever made their escape from there.”

“That is so, sir, and I am one of the fortunate ones.”

“But how on earth have you managed to pass right through France?”

“I was detained three months at Toulon, sir, and there was allowed to buy some French books. I was then a month on the way to Verdun, and five months there. During that time I practised French incessantly, and picked up enough to pass muster. At last, thanks to a French girl, I succeeded in getting a disguise and climbing over the wall, and passed through France as a pedlar with wares made by the prisoners.”

“Come with me to the captain’s cabin. He will, I am sure, be glad to hear your story. How were you captured?”

“In the attack the Tartar made on a battery on one of the Isles d’Hyères I was shot through the leg and left behind in the retreat.”

“Yes, I heard of that affair, and a most unfortunate one it was. You caught it hot there, and no mistake!”

The captain listened to the story with great interest, and then said: “Well, Mr. Gilmore, I congratulate you very heartily on getting out of that terrible prison. I am rather short of officers, and will rate you as midshipman until I have an opportunity of sending you home. I have no doubt your brother officers will manage to rig you out.”

The lieutenant went out with Will and introduced him to the officers of the ship, to whom he had again to tell the tale of his adventure. “Now come down below to our berth,” the senior midshipman said, “and we will see what we can do to rig you out. We lost one of our number the other day, and I have no doubt the purser’s clerk will let you take what you require out of his kit if you give him a bill on your paymaster.”

Fortunately the clothes fitted Will, so he took over the whole of the effects, as there was sufficient standing to his account on the Tartar to pay for them, in addition to the pay that would accrue during the time of his captivity.

He learned that they were on their way to the Texel, where they were to cruise backwards and forwards to watch the flotilla of boats that Napoleon was accumulating there for the invasion of England. It was arduous work, for the heavy fogs rendered it necessary to use the greatest caution, as there were many dangerous shoals and currents in the vicinity.

One dark night, when they thought that they were in deep water, the ship grounded suddenly. The tide was running out, and though they did everything in their power they could not get her off.

“If we have but another couple of hours,” the first lieutenant said, “we shall float, as the tide will be turning very soon. But it is getting light already, and we are likely to have their gun-boats out in no time.”

His anticipation turned out correct, for six gun-boats were soon seen making their way out of the Texel. When within range they opened fire. The Artemis replied with such guns as she could bring to bear on them. She suffered a good deal of damage, but the tide had turned and was flowing fast. Hawsers had been run out at the stern and fastened to the capstan, and the bars were now manned, and the sailors put their whole strength into the work. At last there was a movement; the ship quivered from stem to stern, and then slipped off into deep water. A joyous cheer burst from the crew. But they did not waste time. They ran at once to their guns, and opened a broadside fire on the gun-boats. One was disabled and taken in tow by two others; and the rest, finding themselves no match for the frigate, sheered off and re-entered the Texel.

The Artemis continued to cruise to and fro for upwards of a month. One evening the first lieutenant said to Will: “The captain is worried because we were told to expect a messenger with news as to the state of affairs at Amsterdam and in Holland generally, and none has arrived. There is no doubt that they are adding to the number of gun-boats there, and also to the flat-bottomed boats for the conveyance of troops. The delay is most annoying, especially as we have orders to sail for England with the news as soon as we get it, and we are all heartily sick of this dull and dreary work.”

“I will volunteer to land and communicate with some of the country-people near Amsterdam,” Will said, “if the captain would like it. We know that their sympathies are all with us, and I have no doubt that I could get what information is required. If my offer is accepted I should greatly prefer to go in uniform, for, while I am quite ready to run the risk of being taken prisoner, I have certainly no desire to be captured out of uniform, as I should be liable to be hanged as a spy.”

The first lieutenant mentioned the matter to the captain, who at once embraced the offer, for he, too, was sick of the work, in which no honour was to be obtained, and in which the risks were great, as the coast was a dangerous one. He sent for Will and said: “I hear, Mr. Gilmore, that you are willing to volunteer to land and gain information. Have you considered the risks?”

“I know that, of course, there is a certain amount of danger, sir, but do not consider it to be excessive. At any rate I am ready to try it.”

“I am very much obliged to you,” the captain said, “for we are all anxious to get away from this place; but mind, I cannot but consider that the risk is considerable. With our glasses we constantly see bodies of horsemen riding along the sands, and have sometimes noticed solitary men, no doubt sentinels; and it is probably because of them that the messenger we expected has not been able to put out. I will give you his address. He lives within half a mile of Amsterdam, in a house near the shore of the Texel. When are you prepared to start?”

“This evening if you wish it, sir.”

“Well, I think the sooner you go the better. If you land to-night I will send the boat ashore to the same spot to-morrow night. They will lie off two or three hundred yards, and come to your whistle.”

“Very well, sir.”

Will had no preparations to make for his journey. He received a letter from the captain authorizing the man to give every information in his power to the bearer, and with this in his pocket he took his place in the boat after dark and was rowed towards the shore. The Artemis was four miles from the land when he embarked in the gig, the oars were muffled, and the men were enjoined to row with the greatest care when they approached the land. An officer went in charge, and theArtemis was to show a light an hour after they started, so that they could find their way back to her. Will chatted in a whisper to the officer till they were, he judged, within half a mile of the land. Then they rowed on in perfect silence till the keel grated on the sands. At that moment a musket shot was heard from a sand-hill a couple of hundred yards away. Will leapt out and ran at full speed for some little distance, and then threw himself down. The shots were repeated from point to point, and men ran down to the water’s edge and fired after the retiring boat.

Presently the noise ceased. Whether he had been seen or not he could not say, but he hoped that, although the sentinel had made out the boat against the slight surf that broke on the beach, he had not been able to see him leave it. He got up cautiously, and, stooping low, moved off until he was quite certain that he was well beyond the line of sentries. Once or twice he heard the galloping of parties of men, evidently attracted by the sound of firing, but none of them came very near him, and he ran on without interruption. In two hours he saw lights before him, and knew that he was approaching Amsterdam. He turned to the right, and went on until he came to a wide sheet of water, which must, he knew, be the Texel. Then he lay down and slept for some hours. At the first gleam of dawn he was on his feet again, and made his way to a farmhouse which exactly agreed with the description that had been given him. He knocked at the door, and it was presently opened by a man in his shirt-sleeves.

“Are you Meinheer Johan Van Duyk?” he asked.

“I am,” the man said. “Who are you?”

“I am the bearer of this letter from the captain of theArtemis, who had expected you to communicate with him.”

“Come in,” the man said. “We are early risers here, and it is advisable that no one should see you. Yes,” he went on when the door was closed, “I have been trying to communicate, but the cordon of sentries along the shore has been so close, and the watch so vigilant, that it has been quite impossible for me to come out. I suppose you are an officer of that ship?”

“Yes.”

“Do you speak Dutch?”

“No, I speak French.”

The man read the letter.

“That is all right; I can furnish you with all these particulars when you leave to-night, but of course in that uniform you must lie dark until then. For some reason or other the French have suspicions of me, and they have paid me several visits. Were you seen to land last night?”