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

“That will not matter as long as we can read it,” the lieutenant said. “Now you had better come to the captain and hand it to him.”

“I am heartily glad to see you, Mr. Gilmore,” the captain said. “I have been very uneasy about you, and I really hardly expected you to return to-night. We knew that the boat was being chased, by the lights Lieutenant Falcon showed, but I feared that she was coming back without you. Now tell me what has happened to you. We knew by the firing that French sentries saw the boat come to land last night.”

Will gave a full account of his adventures.

“Well done indeed, Mr. Gilmore! I shall have much pleasure in reporting your conduct. Now let us examine the list.”

The words were a good deal blurred by water, but were still quite legible.

“They are stronger in gun-boats than I expected,” the captain said when he had read it. “If they had had an ounce of pluck about them they would have come out and fought us. A thirty-two-gun frigate is no match for sixteen gunboats. Well, now that we have got this despatch, we can make for Sheerness at once. Have her headed for that port, Mr. Falcon, if you please. We won’t lose a moment before making for England.”

CHAPTER XVI

A DARING EXPLOIT

On reaching Sheerness the captain at once went ashore, accompanied by Will, and they proceeded to London. Will took up his quarters at the Golden Cross, and next day called at the Admiralty, where he sent in his name to the First Lord.

“I have received a most favourable report from Captain Knowles of your conduct in landing on the coast of Holland, and of obtaining despatches of much value. How were you taken prisoner?”

“At the attack by a force from the Tartar on some batteries on one of the Isles d’Hyères. I was hit in the leg, and, being left behind in the confusion of the retreat, fell into the hands of the French. I was imprisoned for four months at Toulon, and then sent to Verdun. Six months after leaving Toulon I effected my escape in a disguise procured for me by a French girl. I had learned the language while in prison, and, travelling through France in the disguise of a pedlar, reached Dunkirk. There I worked in a fishing-boat for a month, and then, seeing the Artemis cruising off the town, I shut up two of the sailors in their cabin, and frightened the other two into taking me off to her.”

“In consideration of the valuable services you have rendered I have much pleasure in appointing you master’s mate.”

“Thank you, sir! but I own I had rather hopes of obtaining a lieutenancy.”

“A lieutenancy!” the admiral said in a changed tone. “I am surprised to hear you say so, when you have had no service as a master’s mate. What makes you entertain such a hope?”

“My past services, sir,” Will said boldly.

“Captain Purfleet, will you hand me down the volume of services under the letter G. Ah! here it is.”

He glanced at it cursorily at first, and then read it carefully.

“You were right, Mr. Gilmore, in entertaining such a hope. I see that you have been highly spoken of by the various officers under whom you have served; that you were most strongly recommended by the admirals both at Malta and in the West Indies for your singular services, and also by Lord Hood for your conduct in Corsica. You were in command of a small craft for nearly a year, and in that capacity you not only took a number of prizes, some of them valuable, but actually captured, in one hard-fought action, two pirates, each of which was stronger than yourself. You have, therefore, well shown your capacity to command. Captain Purfleet, have any appointments been made yet to the Jason?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well, then appoint Mr. Gilmore to be second lieutenant of her. You need not thank me, sir; you owe your commission to your own gallantry and good conduct. I don’t know that I have at any time seen such strong testimonials and so good a record for any officer of your age and standing. I am quite sure that you will do full justice to the appointment that I have made. As the Jason will not be ready for two months I can grant you six weeks leave.”

No sooner was this matter settled than Will took the coach to Fairham. Thence he drove to the village of Porchester, where Marie’s fiancé was confined. Here he put up at a little inn. He had, before starting from London, bought and put on the disguise of a countryman, as he could hardly have stayed in the village as a gentleman without exciting remark or suspicion. He had, however, brought other clothes with him, so that if necessary he could resume them, and appear either as a naval officer or as a civilian. His first step was to make a tour of the great wall which enclosed the castle and the huts in which the prisoners were confined. He saw at once that any attempt to scale the wall would be useless. At the inn he gave out that by the death of a relative he had just come into a few pounds and meant to enjoy himself.

The inn he had selected was scarcely more than a tavern, and he had chosen it because he thought it probable that it would be frequented by the soldiers whose camp stood near the walls, and who supplied the guards in the castle. This expectation was fulfilled a short time after his arrival by four or five soldiers coming in.

“Will you drink a glass with me?” he said. “I have been telling the landlord that I have come into a little brass, and mean to spend it.”

The soldiers, not unwillingly, accepted the invitation, and sat down at a table with him.

“It must be slow work,” he said, “keeping guard here, and I expect you would sooner be out at the war.”

“That we should,” one of them replied; “there is nothing to do here but to drill all day, and stare across the water when we are off duty, and wish we were at Portsmouth, where there is something to do and something to amuse one. This is the dullest hole I ever was quartered in. Cosham on one side and Fairham on the other are the only places that one can walk to. We expect, however, to be relieved before long, and I never want to see the place again.”

“I suppose you take recruits here?” Will said.

“Oh yes, we take recruits when we can get them.”

“How long is a recruit before he begins to be a soldier, and takes his regular turn as guard and so on?”

“Two or three months,” the man said; “that is long enough to get them into something like shape.”

“I should like to go in and have a look at the prisoners,”Will said after a little chat.

“Well, there is no chance of your doing that,” the soldier replied. “Orders are very strict, and only three or four hucksters are allowed to go in, to sell things to them.”

“How many are there of them?”

“About three thousand.”

He chatted for some time, and then, after calling for another pint of beer all round, sauntered out, leaving the soldiers to finish it. He saw at once that his only possible plan in the time he had at his command was either to bribe some of the guards, which appeared to him too hazardous a plan to adopt, and not likely to lead to success, or to get at one or other of the people who were allowed in.

He spent two days watching the gate of the prison. During that time five people in civilian dress went in. One of these was a short fat woman, who carried a large basket with cakes and other eatables. Another was similarly laden. A third, a man of about his own height, took in a variety of material used by the prisoners for making articles for sale. He had needles and thread, scraps of materials of many colours for making patchwork quilts, blocks of wood for carving out model ships, straw dyed various colours for making fancy boxes, glass beads, and other small articles. Will at once fixed on him as being the most likely of the visitors to serve his purpose. He spoke to him after he had left the prison.

“My friend,” he said, “do you want to earn fifty pounds?”

The man opened his eyes in surprise.

“I should certainly like to,” he said, “if I could see my way to do it.”

“Well, I will double that if you do as I tell you. I want you, in the first place, to find out the hut in which Lucien Dupres is confined, and give him a letter.”

“There will be no great difficulty about that,” the man said. “I only have to whisper to the first prisoner I meet that I want to find a man, and have got a letter from his friends for him, and if he doesn’t know him he will find him out for me. That is not much to do for a hundred pounds.”

“No; but in the next place I want you to keep out of the way for a week, and to lend me your clothes and pass. I want to go in and see the man.”

“Well, that is a more dangerous business. How could you pass for me?”

“I think I could do that without fear. We are about the same height. I should have a wig made to imitate your hair, and should, I imagine, have no difficulty in getting my face made up so as to be able to pass for you. You must be so well known that they will do no more than glance at me as I go in. The only alternative to that will be for you to take to him a rope and other things I will give you. I tell you frankly I want to aid his escape. Mind, a hundred pounds is not to be earned without some slight risk.”

“Of the two things I would rather risk carrying the rope and the tools, if they are not too bulky. Mind you, it is a big risk, for I should be liable to be shot for aiding in the escape of a prisoner.”

“Well, look here,” Will said, “I will go into Portsmouth this afternoon and find some man who can fake me up. There are sure to be two or three men who make that their business, for young naval officers are constantly getting into scrimmages, and must want to have their eyes painted before they go back on board. Do you go to the prison to-morrow morning. Find out the man, and deliver this letter to him. Then come into Portsmouth in the coach. I will be waiting there till it arrives, and you can go with me, and when I have got myself made up you shall judge for yourself whether I shall pass muster for you. There will be no difficulty in getting whiskers to match yours.”

“Very well,” the man said, “I will be on the coach to-morrow.”

Will at once changed his clothes to an ordinary walking suit, and went into town. On making enquiries he found that there was a barber who made it his business to paint black eyes and to remove the signs of bruises. He went to him and said: “I hear you are an artist in black eyes.”

The man smiled.

“You don’t look as if you wanted my services, sir.”