"From Powder Monkey to Admiral" (continued 7)

The country, from the glimpse they had had of it, appeared more inviting to the west, but Rayner reflected that by going in that direction they would get farther and farther from the Spanish territory, but were they once to reach it, they might claim assistance from the inhabitants. How many miles they were from the border neither Rayner nor Oliver was certain; it might be a dozen or it might be twenty or thirty. Le Duc could give them no information. It was difficult to find the way in the darkness; they could indeed only guide themselves by listening to the roar of the breakers, with an occasional glimpse of the dark ocean to the right. The two officers agreed that it would be of great advantage to get into Spanish territory before daylight, as they would thus avoid being taken prisoners. Though their object in coming on the coast was a peaceable one, it would be difficult to induce the authorities to believe that this was the case. Le Duc promised that he would bear testimony to the truth of the account they intended to give of themselves; but, he observed, “My word may not be believed, and I myself may be accused of being a deserter. The people hereabouts do not set much value on human life, and they may shoot us all to save themselves the trouble of making further inquiries.”

These observations, which Rayner translated to his companions, made them still more anxious to push on. He and Oliver led the way with Le Duc, whom they desired to answer should they come suddenly on any of the inhabitants.

They went on and on, stumbling among rocks, now forcing their way through a wood, now ascending a rugged slope, until they found themselves at what appeared to have been a sugar plantation, but evidently abandoned for the fences were thrown down, though the shrubs and bushes formed an almost impenetrable barrier. They discovered, however, at last, a path. Even that was much overgrown, though they managed to force their way through it.

When once out of the plantation they found the road less obstructed. Reaching a rising ground, they eagerly looked round, hoping to see a light streaming from the windows of some house, where they could obtain the rest and food they so much required.

“I think I caught sight of a glimmer among the trees. Look there!” said Oliver.

They took the bearings of the light, and descending the hill, endeavoured to direct their course towards it. At last they reached a road, which they concluded must lead towards the house where the light had been seen. They went on some way farther in darkness.

“We are all right,” cried Oliver. “I caught sight of three lights from as many different windows. That shows that it is a house of some size.”

“I don’t know whether that would be an advantage,” observed Rayner. “The owner may dislike the English, and refuse to receive us, or send off to the authorities and have us carried away to prison.”

“But you and Le Duc and Peek, as you speak French, may pass for Frenchmen; and a man must be a curmudgeon if he refuses to afford assistance to sailors in distress,” observed Oliver.

“I can’t say much for Peek’s French, or for my own either. I would rather state at once who we are,” said Rayner. “Le Duc is an honest fellow, and he will explain why we came on the coast, and will tell them how we saved his life.”

Le Duc, being asked, replied that he would gladly undertake whatever the English officers wished, and it was arranged that as soon as they got near the house he should go on and ascertain the disposition of the inhabitants. Should they be ill-disposed towards the English he was to return, and they would go on rather than run the risk of being detained and sent to prison.

Sooner than they had expected they got close up to what was evidently a house of considerable size, as the lights came from windows some distance above the ground. While Le Duc went forward, the rest of the party remained concealed under shelter of some thick bushes. He had not got far when a loud barking showed that several dogs were on the watch.

He advanced, however, boldly, calling to the dogs, and shouting for some one to come and receive him.

The animals, though satisfied that he was not a thief, seemed to suspect that there were other persons not far off.

“I say, here the brutes come,” whispered Tom. “They’ll be tearing us to pieces. The people in these parts, I have read, have great big bloodhounds to hunt the Indians with. If they come near us we must knock them over.”

“That won’t make the people inclined to treat us more kindly,” answered Jack. “When the dogs find we are quiet, they’ll let us alone.”

Just then the voice of some one was heard calling the dogs, who went back to the house.

Some time passed. At last Le Duc’s voice was heard. It was too dark to see him.

“It’s all arranged, messieurs,” he said. “There’s an old lady and two young ladies in the house. I told them all about you, when they said that they were fond of the English, and would be very happy to give you shelter and food, but that you must come quietly so that no one but their old brown maître d’hôtel, and black girls who wait on them, should know that you are in the house. Follow me, then, and just have the goodness to tell the men that they must behave themselves or they may be getting into trouble.”

“I’ll tell them what you say,” observed Rayner; and turning to the three seamen, he said—

“Remember that though you are on shore you belong to the Lily, and are, therefore, as much under discipline as if you were on board.”

They now proceeded towards the house, led by Le Duc. The two officers going first, they mounted the steps, and getting inside the house, they saw an old mulatto carrying a couple of wax candles. He beckoned them with his head to follow, and led the way to an inner room, when an old lady advanced to meet them. Behind her came two young ladies, whom the midshipmen thought very handsome, with dark flashing eyes and black tresses, their costumes being light and elegant, and suited to that warm clime. The old lady introduced them as her daughters, Sophie and Virginie. The midshipmen advanced bowing, and Rayner, who was spokesman, apologised for appearing in their wet and somewhat torn clothes.

“We have received the invitation madame has been so kind as to afford us, and we throw ourselves on her hospitality.” He then repeated what he had told Le Duc to say.

“You shall have your necessities supplied, and I will gladly do all I can to protect and help you regain your ship,” she said. “I was once with my daughters taken prisoner when on a voyage from France by an English ship-of-war, and we were treated by the English officers as if we had been princesses. Ah! they were indeed true gentlemen! They won our hearts;” and she sighed. “I thought two of them would have become husbands of my daughters, but stern duty compelled them to sail away after they had landed us, and we have never heard of them since.”

“We will gladly convey any message to them, if you will tell us their names, and the ships to which they belonged,” said Rayner, “should we be fortunate enough to fall in with them.”

“My daughters will tell you by-and-by,” answered the old lady. “You, I see, require to change your dresses, which you can do while supper is preparing. My maître d’hôtel will look to your men with the help of the French sailor whom you sent up with your message.”

“One of them was hurt on board the wreck, and requires some doctoring, I fear,” said Rayner; “he managed to drag himself, with the assistance of his shipmates, thus far, but he must be suffering.”

“Be sure that I will attend to him,” answered Madame La Roche. “I have some skill in surgery, and it will be a satisfaction to exercise it on one of your countrymen; but now François will conduct you to a room, and supply you with such garments as he can collect. Your men in the meantime will be attended to.”

François on this stepped forward with his candles, and, with an inimitable bow, requested the young officers to follow him. They bowing again to madame and her daughters, followed the maître d’hôtel, who led the way to a large room with two beds in it, as also a couple of cane sofas, several chairs, a table, and, what was of no small consequence, a washhand-stand.

“De best ting messieurs can do will be to get into de bed while I bring dem some dry clothes,” said François.

Rayner and Oliver requested, however, that they might be allowed, in the first place, to wash their hands and faces.

This done, they jumped into their respective beds, and when once there they agreed that, if they were not so hungry, they would infinitely prefer going to sleep to having to get up again and make themselves agreeable to the ladies. As soon as François got possession of their clothes he hurried away, but shortly returned, bringing with him a supply of linen and silk stockings, and two antiquated court suits. They were, he said, the only costumes which he considered worthy of the English officers, and he begged that they would put them on without ceremony.

Though not much inclined for merriment just then, they could not help laughing as they got into the white satin small clothes offered them. They then put on the richly-embroidered waistcoats, which, being very long, came down over their hips. Their frilled shirts stuck out in front to a considerable distance, but when they came to the coats, Rayner, who had the broadest pair of shoulders, felt considerable fear lest he should split his across, while his hands projected some way beyond the ruffles which adorned the wrists.

François assisted them in the operation of dressing, and after they had tied their neckcloths, he begged, with a low bow, to fasten on their swords. When their costumes were complete he stepped back, and surveyed them with evident satisfaction.

Oliver could not keep his countenance, but laughed heartily for some time.

“It’s just as well to get it over, Rayner,” he said; “for otherwise I could not help bursting out every time I looked at you.”

The maître d’hôtel, however, did not appear to think there was anything laughable in the appearance of the two Englishmen.

“Oh, messieurs! you are admirable. Let me have the honour of conducting you to the saloon.” Saying this he took up the candles, and with stately step marched before them, until they reached a large room, in the centre of which was a table spread with a handsome repast.

Madame La Roche, coming in, took the head of the table, and the young ladies, sailing like swans into the room, placed themselves by the side of their guests, on the strangeness of whose costumes they made not the slightest remark. Rayner and Oliver had become somewhat faint from long fasting, but their spirits quickly revived after they had eaten some of the viands placed before them. At first they supposed that the repast was served up solely on their account, but from the way the girls and their mother kept them in countenance, they were satisfied that they had simply come in for the family supper.

Rayner talked away, now to the old lady, now to the young one at his side, while Oliver found that he could converse much more fluently than he had supposed.

After a time, however, they found it very difficult to keep their eyes open, and Rayner heard the old lady remark to her daughters, in pitying accents, that “Les pauvres garçons much required rest, and that it would be cruel to keep them up longer than was necessary.”

She accordingly summoned François, who appeared with his huge candlesticks. Wishing them good-night, the old lady advised them to follow the maître d’hôtel to their chamber.

They bowed as well as they could, and staggered off, more asleep than awake.

“We are certainly in clover here,” remarked Oliver, as they reached their room; “I question whether we shall be as well treated when we reach Spanish territory; and I propose, if Madame La Roche is willing to keep us, that we take up our quarters here until Peek is better able to travel than he is now.”

“Certainly,” answered Rayner, taking off his silk coat and placing his sword on the table. “We’ll talk of that to-morrow.”

They had not placed their heads on their pillows many seconds before they both were fast asleep.

Chapter Thirty One.

Captured.

The shipwrecked midshipmen would probably have slept far into the next day had not François appeared with their clothes, nicely brushed and carefully mended, so that they were able to make a presentable appearance in their own characters before their hostesses.

He had also brought them a cup of café-au-lait, informing them that breakfast would be ready as soon as they were dressed in the salle-à-manger.

They found an abundant meal spread out, as François had promised. The old lady and her daughters welcomed them kindly—the latter with wreathed smiles, the elder with a host of questions to which she did not wait for a reply.

They were all three thorough Frenchwomen, talking, as Oliver observed, “thirteen to the dozen.”

Madame La Roche told them that she had been attending to the English sailor, who, she hoped, would, under her care, be quite well in a day or two. “I ought to warn you not to go out. People in these parts are not well affected towards the English, and should it be discovered that I am harbouring British officers I may get into trouble,” she added.

The morning passed very pleasantly. The young ladies produced their guitars, and sang with good voices several French airs. Rayner and Oliver thought them charming girls, and had they not felt it was their duty to get back to their ship as soon as possible, would gladly have remained in their society for an indefinite period.

At last they begged leave to go down to see their men. They were guided to their rooms by sounds of music and uproarious laughter. They found Le Duc seated on a three-legged stool on the top of a table fiddling away, while old François, three black women, Tom and Brown, were dancing in the strangest possible fashion, whirling round and round, kicking up their heels, and joining hands, while Jack lay on a bed at the farther end of the room, looking as if he longed to get up and take a part in the dance.

On seeing the strangers, François became as grave as a judge, and hurrying up to them, observed, “I thought it as well, messieurs, just to join in for one minute to set the young people going. The poor sailors needed encouragement, and I like to make people happy.”

“You succeeded well, Monsieur François,” remarked Rayner. “I will not interrupt them, but I have a few words to speak to my men.”

He then told Tom and Brown that it was the wish of Madame La Roche that they should remain in the house, and not show themselves by any chance to the people outside.

“In course, sir,” said Brown. “We are as happy as princes here. They feed us with as much as we can eat, and give us a right good welcome too.”

“Take care that you don’t indulge too much,” said Rayner. “We are obliged to you, Le Duc, for finding us such good quarters, and we shall be still more grateful if you will accompany us to the Spanish border. I conclude you will then desire to return home.”

“I am very much at home where I am,” replied Le Duc, with a grin. “If madame will accept my services, I shall be very happy to remain here. Perhaps one of the young ladies will fall in love with me, and I should prefer settling down to knocking about at sea.”

Rayner and Oliver were horrified at the Frenchman’s impudence.

“Pray do not be troubled at what I say, messieurs,” said Le Duc, with perfect coolness. “Such things have happened before, and one Frenchman here is as good as another.”

They saw that it would not do to discuss the matter with the seaman, who, it was evident, from the dishes and glasses standing on the table by the window, had been making himself merry with his companions.

The afternoon was spent very much as the morning had been. The young ladies possessed no other accomplishment than that of playing the guitar and dancing. They read when they could get books, but these were mostly French novels, certainly not of an improving character.

Rayner and Oliver could not help comparing them with Mary Crofton, and the comparison was greatly to her advantage.

The next day, François, who had been out to market returned with a troubled countenance. He hurried in to his mistress, who soon afterwards came into the room where her daughters and the young officers were seated.

“I am sorry to say that the authorities have heard of your being in the neighbourhood, and have sent the gendarmes to search for you!” she exclaimed, in an anxious tone. “I did not wish to drive you away, and am willing to try and conceal you. At present, no one knows you are in the house. You may remain in a loft between the ceiling of this room and the roof, where you are not likely to be found; but the place is low, and will, I fear, be hot in the daytime, and far from pleasant. François might manage to conduct you to a hut in the woods at no great distance from this, to which we could send you food; but there is the risk of the person who goes being seen, and your retreat being discovered.”

“We are very sorry to cause you so much trouble, madame,” said Rayner. “It will, I think, be safest to leave this place to-night, and to try and make our way, as we intended, into Spanish territory.”

“Ah! but the distance is long—fully twenty leagues,” answered Madame La Roche. “You would be recognised as strangers, and probably detained by the mayor of a large village you must pass through.”

“But we must take care and not pass through any village,” said Rayner. “We will try to make our way along bypaths. What we should be most thankful for is a trustworthy guide. Perhaps our good friend François here will find one for us.”

“That I will try to do,” said the old mulatto. “It is not, however, very easy, as few of them know much of the country to the east.”

“But how was it discovered that these English officers and their men were in the country?” asked Mademoiselle Sophie, the eldest of the young ladies, turning to François.

“It appears that yesterday morning there was found on the beach the dead body of a seaman, who was supposed from his appearance and dress to be English, while the marks of numerous feet were perceived on the sand, some going to the west, others coming in this direction. Those going to the west were traced until a party of French and black sailors were discovered asleep in a wood. They stated that the vessel was French, captured by an English man-of-war; that she had been driven by the hurricane on the reef, and that it was their belief the English officers and crew had escaped as well as themselves, but they could not tell what had become of them. The mayor, on hearing this, had despatched a party of gendarmes in search of the missing people. How soon they may be here it is impossible to say.”

“But they will not be so barbarous as to carry off to prison English officers who come with a flag of truce, and had no hostile intentions!” exclaimed Virginie.

“The authorities would be only too glad to get some Englishmen to exhibit as prisoners,” said François. “We must not trust them; and I propose that we hide away the officers and men.”

Just as François had finished giving this account, Le Duc ran into the room.

“Oh, madame, oh messieurs!” he exclaimed, “I have seen those gendarmes coming along the road towards the house; they will be here presently.”

“Here, come this way, my friends!” cried Madame La Roche. “François, run and get the ladder. There may be time for you all to mount up before the gendarmes appear. Call the other sailors. The sick man is strong enough to move, or some one must help him. Vite, vite!”

The old lady hurried about in a state of great agitation. Rayner and Oliver had serious fears that she would betray herself.

François soon came with the ladder, which he placed in a dark corner of a passage, and, ascending, opened a trapdoor, and urged the party to mount without delay. Oliver went up first. Jack was able to get up without assistance. Le Duc was unwilling to go until the old lady seized him by the arm.

“Go up, my son, go up,” she said. “You will not be worse off than the rest.”

He at length unwillingly obeyed.

As soon as Rayner got up, by François’ directions he shut down the trapdoor. There was just light sufficient, through a pane of glass in the roof, to see that the loft extended over a considerable portion of the building. Part only was covered with boards, on which, according to the instructions given them, they laid down. François had charged them on no account to move about, lest they should be heard by the people below. The planks, however, were not placed very close together, and after they had been there a minute or so, Rayner discovered a glimmer of light coming through a broadish chink.

Putting his face near it, he perceived that the old lady and her daughters had seated themselves at a table with their work before them, endeavouring to look as unconcerned as possible.

He had not been in this position many minutes, when he heard some heavy steps coming along the passage; they entered the room, and a gruff voice demanded if any Englishmen had been, or still were, in the house.

The old lady started to her feet with an exclamation of well-feigned astonishment.

“What can monsieur mean?” she asked. “Englishmen in my house! Where can they have come from? My character is well known as a true patriot. The enemies of France are my enemies. Pray explain yourself more clearly.”

On this the sergeant of gendarmes began to apologise in more courteous language than he had at first used, explaining why he had been sent to look for the Englishmen who, it had been ascertained, were in that part of the country.

“Suppose you find them, what would you do with them?” asked Madame La Roche.

“No doubt send them to prison. They are enemies of France, and it would not be wise when we can catch them to allow such to wander at large and commit mischief.”

“Very true, very true, Monsieur Sergeant,” said the old lady. “But that does not excuse you for accusing me of harbouring them, and coming to my house as if I were a traitress.”

The sergeant, however, was evidently persuaded, notwithstanding Madame La Roche’s evasion, that the fugitives had been at the house, if they were not there still, and he insisted, with due respect to her, that it was his duty to make a thorough search.

“As you desire it, pray obey your orders,” said Madame La Roche. “My maître d’hôtel will show you round the house and outbuildings, and wherever you wish to go. You must excuse me on account of my age, as also my daughters from their youth and delicate nerves from accompanying you.”

The sergeant bowed, and said something with a laugh which Rayner did not hear, and the old lady, calling François, bade him conduct the sergeant and his gendarmes through the house. “And take care that he looks into every corner, under the beds and in them, if he likes, so that he may be thoroughly satisfied,” she added.

“Oui, madame,” answered François with perfect gravity. “Come along, Monsieur Sergeant. If you do not find these Englishmen of whom you speak, do not blame me.”

Rayner heard them retire from the room. He now began to breathe more freely, hoping, for the sake especially of Madame La Roche, that the sergeant would be satisfied when they were not found in the house.

The ladies went on working and talking as if nothing were happening, though their countenances betrayed their anxiety. The gendarmes had been absent a sufficient time to make a thorough search through the whole of the building when Rayner heard them coming back. Suddenly the sergeant stopped, and asked, in a loud voice, “What is the object of this ladder, my friend?”

“To reach the roof from the verandah, or to enable the inmates to descend should the house be on fire,” answered François, promptly.

“The roof everywhere overlaps the verandah,” answered the sergeant, “and no ladder is necessary to get out of these windows to the ground. It appears to me of a length suited to reach the ceiling. Come, show me any trapdoor through which I can reach the loft over the rooms. You forgot, my friend, that part of the house.”

“A trapdoor in the ceiling! What a strange thought of yours!” exclaimed François. “However, perhaps you will find it, should one exist, that you may be satisfied on that point, and let one of your men take the ladder, for I am old, and it would fatigue me to carry it.”

One of the gendarmes took up the ladder, and he could be heard knocking at the ceiling in various directions. Still Rayner hoped that they would not discover the dark corner, which François evidently had no intention to show them.

“It must be found somewhere or other,” he heard the sergeant say. “This ladder is exactly suited to reach it.”

At last he entered the room where the ladies were seated.

“Will madame have the goodness to tell me whereabouts the trapdoor is that leads to the roof?” he asked.

“The trapdoor leading to the roof!” repeated Madame La Roche. “It is not likely that an old woman, as I am, would have scrambled up there, or my delicate daughters either. Surely, Monsieur Sergeant, you are laughing at me.”

The sergeant turned away, but presently one of the men exclaimed, “I have found it! I have found it—here, up in this corner!”

Rayner heard the men ascending, the trap was lifted, but he and his companions lay perfectly still, hoping that in the darkness they might not be perceived.

But the gendarme, after waiting a few seconds to accustom his eyes to the dim light, began groping about until he caught hold of Tom’s leg. Tom, dreadfully frightened, cried out in English, “Oh, dear; he’s got me!”

“Come down, messieurs, come down!” exclaimed the sergeant. “Oh, Madame La Roche, you would have deceived me.”

Rayner and his companions were compelled to descend. He truly felt more for his kind hostess and her daughters than he did for himself. They might be heavily fined, if not more severely punished. He and his companions had only to look forward to a prison, from which they might escape.

With the exception of Le Duc they were all soon collected in the room below. He had managed by some means to escape detection. They were allowed but a short time to take leave of Madame La Roche and her daughters. The sergeant having received no orders respecting the ladies, and satisfied at having secured his prisoners, seemed disposed to allow the former to remain unmolested. They looked very melancholy, however. The young ladies, as they shook hands, burst into tears. In vain Madame La Roche begged that their guests might be allowed to partake of some refreshment before commencing their journey. The sergeant would not hear of it. He had caught the spies, and he intended to keep them. If he allowed them to remain, some trick might be played, and they might make their escape.

He at once, therefore, ordered his men to lead his prisoners to the courtyard of the house.

“Hands off; I won’t be manacled by a French jackanapes,” cried Brown, turning round as one of the men seized his arm. “We are five to seven, mayn’t we knock the fellows over, sir? We could do it easily enough, and get off before they came to themselves again.”

“I’ll join you with all my heart,” said Jack, “though I can’t fight as well as I could before my ribs were stove in.”

“I’ll tackle one of the fellows if I may take the smallest,” said Tom, though he looked rather pale at the thought of the impending struggle.

“What do you advise, Rayner?” asked Oliver.

“I can advise no violence,” said Rayner. “We may succeed in mastering the Frenchmen, but if we did, the kind old lady here and her daughters would certainly suffer in consequence. We must submit with a good grace, and we may possibly afterwards have an opportunity of making our escape without fighting.”

Though the Frenchmen did not understand what was said, they evidently, from the looks of the seamen, suspected their intentions, and drawing their pistols presented them at the heads of their prisoners.

The ladies shrieked, fancying they were about to fire, and Tom turned pale.

“Pray don’t be alarmed,” said Rayner. “We yield to the sergeant, and before we go I wish, in the name of my companions and myself, to express to you the deep gratitude we feel for your kindness. Farewell!”

He and Oliver kissed their hands, and the sergeant made significant signs to them to go through the doorway.

“Have I the word of you two officers and your men that you will commit no violence?” he asked. “If you refuse it, I shall be under the necessity of binding your arms behind you.”

“What shall I say, Oliver?” asked Rayner. “If we give the promise we lose the chance of attempting to make our escape; but then again, if our arms are bound no opportunity can occur.”

“Say then that we will attempt no violence, and submit to any directions he may give us,” answered Oliver.

Rayner spoke as Oliver advised, and the sergeant appeared satisfied, as he imposed no other promise.

Chapter Thirty Two.

In prison, and out again.

The order to march was given. The two officers went first, followed by Brown and Tom supporting Jack, and the gendarmes marched on either side of them with their bayonets fixed.

Rayner and Oliver took the bearings of the house and remarked the country as they went along. They found that they were proceeding inland, and on inquiring of the sergeant he said that they were going to a place called Le Trou, where other English prisoners were confined.

“Are there many of them?” inquired Rayner.

“Yes,” answered the Frenchman, “some hundreds, I believe; for one of our frigates captured a ship of yours not long ago, and most of the officers and men who escaped death were sent there.”

Rayner in vain endeavoured to ascertain what English ship was spoken of, for he had heard of none taken by the French of late years. The sergeant, however, was positive, though he did not know either the name of the ship or the exact time of the capture.

“I suspect he has heard some old story, and he repeats it for the sake of annoying us,” observed Oliver.

“We must not let him suppose that we are cast down. We’ll try to learn how far off this Le Trou is.”

Rayner questioned the sergeant.

“He says it is three days’ journey. We shall have to stop at different houses on the road. That he must first take us to the mayor, or some official, who may perhaps send us to the governor at Leogane, by whom we shall be examined, and if found to be spies, we shall be shot.”

“Then Le Trou is not our first destination, and much will depend upon the character of the mayor before whom we are taken,” observed Oliver.

As they still continued in a northerly direction, they knew that they were not going to Leogane, which lay to the westward, nor were they increasing their distance from the Spanish border.

Towards evening they reached a house of some size built, as are most of those in the country, on one storey, raised on a platform, with a broad veranda and wide projecting eaves. At one end, however, was a circular tower of considerable height.

“Here we shall stop, and there will be your lodging after you have been examined by Monsieur le Maire,” said the sergeant, pointing to the tower.

They conducted them up the steps to a hall, at one end of which was a baize-covered table, with a large chair and several smaller chairs on either side.

After some time a little old gentleman in a red nightcap and flowered dressing-gown, with slippered feet, and spectacles on nose, entered the hall, followed by another in black, apparently his clerk. Two other persons also came in, and took their seats at the table, while the clerk began to nibble his pen and shuffle his papers.

The old gentleman, in a squeaky voice, inquired who were the prisoners now brought before him, and of what crime they were accused.

The sergeant at once stepped up to the table, and giving a military salute, informed Monsieur le Maire how he had heard of spies being in the country, and how he had captured them at the house of Madame La Roche.

“But if they are Englishmen, they cannot speak French, and we require an interpreter,” said the mayor. “Do any of you, my friends, understand the language of those detestable islanders?”

No one replied. After the remark of the mayor, it might seem a disgrace even to speak English.

Rayner, anxious not to prolong the business, on hearing what was said, stepped up to the table, and observed that, as he spoke French, he should be happy to explain how he and his companions came into the country.

He then gave a brief account of the circumstances which led to the shipwreck, and what had since occurred. He was sorry anybody present should entertain ill-feelings towards the English, as for his part he liked France, and had a warm regard for many Frenchmen.

Even the mayor was impressed, and a pleased smile came over his weazened features.

“I am ready to believe the account you give me, and that you certainly are not spies,” he said. “The body of your countryman found on the beach proves that you were shipwrecked. Still, as you are in the country, we must consider you as prisoners of war, and treat you as such. For this night you must remain here, and to-morrow I will consider whether I will send you to Leogane or Le Trou, where you will wait with others of your countrymen to be exchanged.”

After some further remarks the examination terminated, and Rayner and Oliver, with the three seamen, were marched off under a guard to the tower.

It was nearly dark, and they were conducted by the light of a lantern up two flights of steps to a room in an upper storey. As far as they could judge, it was furnished with several pallet beds, a table, some chairs, and stools.

“You are to remain here until to-morrow morning, messieurs, when I shall know in what direction to proceed. Monsieur le Maire has ordered you some food, and you will, I hope, not complain of your treatment,” said the sergeant, as he closed the door, which he locked and bolted. They heard him descending.

“We are better off than I should have expected,” remarked Rayner, surveying the room by the light of the lantern which the sergeant had left.

“The point is, Are we able to escape?” said Oliver.

“You mind, sir, how we got out of the prison in France, and I don’t see why we shouldn’t get out of this place,” observed Jack, going to one of the two narrow windows which the room contained, and looking forth. They were strongly-barred. The night was dark, and he could only see the glimmer of a light here and there in the distance. It was impossible also to ascertain the height of the window from the ground.

“We will certainly try to get out,” said Rayner, joining Jack at the window. “Though I fear that you with your bruises and battered ribs will be unable to make your way on foot across the country.”

“Don’t mind me, sir,” answered Jack. “I have no pain to speak of. If the worst comes to the worst, I can but remain behind. I shall be content if you and Mr Crofton and Tom and Brown make your escape.”

“No, no, my brave fellow,” said Rayner, “we will not leave you behind. But before we talk of what we will do, we must try what we can do. These bars seem very strongly fixed into the stone, and may resist our attempts to get them out.”

“There’s nothing like trying, however,” observed Oliver. “We must get away to-night, for if the mayor decides on sending us either to Leogane or Le Trou we shall have a very poor chance afterwards.”

They tried the bars, but all of them were deeply imbedded in the stone.

“Where there’s a will there’s a way,” observed Jack. “We may dig out the lead with our knives, and if we can get one bar loose we shall soon wrench off the ends of the others, or bend them back enough to let us creep through. Brown wouldn’t make much of bending one of these iron bars, would you, Sam?”

“I’ll try what I can do,” said the seaman, “especially if it’s to get us our liberty.”

“Then, not to lose time, I’ll make a beginning, if you’ll let me, sir,” said Jack; and he got out his knife, but just as he had commenced operations, steps were heard ascending the stairs. The door opened, and one of the gendarmes appeared, followed by a negro carrying a basket of provisions.

“Monsieur le Maire does not want to starve you, and so from his bountiful kindness has sent you some supper,” said the former.

“We are much obliged to Monsieur the Mayor, but we should be still more so if he would set us at liberty,” said Rayner.

Meanwhile the black boy was spreading the table with the contents of the basket.

The gendarme laughed. “No, no, we are not apt to let our caged birds fly,” he answered. “I hope, messieurs, you will enjoy your suppers, and I would advise you then to take some sleep to be ready to start early in the morning, as soon as it is decided in what direction you are to go.”

Rayner thanked the gendarme, who, followed by the black boy, went out of the room, bolting and barring the door behind him.

The men now drew their benches to the table, and Rayner and Oliver, taking their places, fell to with the rest, there being no necessity, under such circumstances, for keeping up official ceremony.

Supper was quickly got through, and each man stowed away the remainder of the provisions in his pockets. While they went to work with their knives at the bars, Rayner and Oliver examined the beds. They were thankful to find that the canvas at the bottom was lashed by pieces of tolerably stout rope. These, with the aid of the ticking cut into strips, would form a line of sufficient length and strength to enable them to descend, should they succeed in getting out the bars. This, however, was not easily to be accomplished. When the officers went to the window, they found that Jack and his companions had made little progress. The bars fitted so closely into the holes that there was but a small quantity of lead, and without a hammer and chisel it seemed impossible to make the hole sufficiently large to move the bars so as to allow Brown to exert his strength upon them. If the two centre perpendicular bars could be got out, the lowest horizontal bar might be sent up. This would afford ample room for the stoutest of the party to get through.

“We’ve got out of a French prison before, sir, and we’ll get out now,” said Jack, working away.

“Yes, but we were small boys then, and you, Jack, and I, would find it a hard matter to get through the same sized hole now that we could then,” observed Rayner.

“That’s just it, sir. If two small boys could get out of a French prison, I am thinking that five well-nigh grown men can manage the job. We’ll do it, sir, never fear. If this stone was granite it might puzzle us, but it’s softer than that by a long way, and I have already cut out some of it with my knife, though, to be sure, it does blunt it considerably.”

The progress Jack and his companions made was very small, and it was evident that unless they could work faster they would be unable to remove the bar before daylight. Rayner and Oliver searched round the room for any pieces of iron which might serve the purpose of a chisel. They examined the bedsteads—they were formed entirely of wood. There was, of course, no fireplace, or a poker might have assisted them. They had just returned to the window when their ears caught the sounds of a few low notes from a violin, played almost directly beneath them.

“Why! I do believe that’s the tune Le Duc was playing to us last evening,” exclaimed Jack.

All was again silent. Rayner and Oliver tried to look through the bars, but could see nothing; all was still. Again the notes were heard. Jack whistled a few bars of the same air. A voice from below, in a suppressed tone asked in French, “Have you a thin line? Let it down.”

“It is Le Duc. He has got something for us. Maybe just what we want,” cried Jack.

“Oui, oui,” he answered. “It will quickly be ready.”

The ticking of one of the mattresses was quickly cut up and formed into a line, which was lowered. Rayner, who held it, felt a gentle tug, and as he hauled it up, what was the delight of the party to find two strong files! There could be no doubt that Le Duc had formed some plan to assist them in escaping, or he would not have come thus furnished. Probably they had to thank Madame La Roche for suggesting it. They did not stop, however, to discuss the matter, but set to work immediately to file away the bars, making as little noise as possible. While two of them were thus employed, the rest walked about the room, and talked and laughed and sang, so as to drown the sound of the files. Presently they heard from the other side of the building the loud tones of a fiddle, the player evidently keeping his bow going at a rapid rate. Then came the sounds of laughter and the stamping of feet, as if people were dancing.

“Why, our guards will be kept awake and we shall have no chance of getting off, I fear,” said Oliver.

“If our guards dance they will drink, and sleep afterwards, never fear,” answered Rayner. “Our friend Le Duc knows what he is about. I’m sure that we can trust him, or he would not have taken the trouble to bring us these files.”

The fiddle was kept going, and Brown and Jack kept time to the tunes with the files as they worked, laughing heartily as they did so.

“Hurrah!” cried Jack, “there’s one bar through. Take a spell here, Tom. You’ve helped the armourer sometimes, and know how to use a file.”

Tom, being as eager to get out as the rest, worked away better than he did on most occasions.

Jack, however, soon again took the file, and in a short time announced that both the centre bars were cut through at the bottom. They had next to file the upper bars sufficiently to enable Brown to bend them back. Losing patience, however, he at last seized one of them, when, placing his feet against the window, he bent back with all his strength. He was more successful than he expected, for the iron giving way, down he fell on the floor with a tremendous crash, which would certainly have been heard by the guards below, had not their attention been drawn off by the fiddle of Le Duc, who was scraping away with more vehemence than ever. Rayner and Oliver had in the meantime been manufacturing the rope by which they hoped to descend to the ground. They could measure the necessary length by the small line with which the files had been drawn up, and they had the satisfaction of finding that it was amply long enough for their purpose. They now secured it to one of the remaining bars. Rayner and Oliver agreed that it would be wise to descend while the fiddle was going.

“Let me go first,” said Brown. “I am the heaviest, and if it bears me, it will bear any of you.”

Tom said nothing. His modesty or something else prevented him from putting himself forward when any danger was to be encountered.

Rayner himself had intended to descend first, but the rest of the party begged him to let some one else go, and at last Oliver led the way.

Judging by the still louder scraping of Le Duc’s fiddle, he must have suspected what they were about. Oliver could hear the notes coming round from the other side of the building. All, however, below him was silence and darkness. He could not judge, as he looked down, whether he was to alight on hard or soft ground, whether into a ditch or stream, or whether they should have a fence to climb. His chief fear was that some of the dogs allowed to go loose in every country house might discover him and his companions before they could effect their escape.

All this passed through his mind as he was letting himself down the rope, to which he clung with arms and feet as a sailor only can cling with security. He soon reached the bottom. The ground appeared to be firm, and was, as far as he could judge, perfectly level. The tower threw a dark shadow, in which he stood listening for any sounds which might indicate danger. It had been agreed, even should one or two of the gendarmes come round, to spring upon them, seize their arms, and gag them. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he pulled out his handkerchief, ready for the latter object. Presently another came down. It was Brown, the best man to tackle an enemy, as his muscular strength was equal to any two of the rest. No enemy appeared, however, and at length Rayner, who came last, reached the bottom in safety.

Chapter Thirty Three.

Travelling under difficulties.

They waited and waited. Le Duc kept fiddling away with as much vehemence as at first. But they could not ascertain whether their guards were still dancing—the scraping of the fiddle-strings drowning all other sounds.

At length the music became slower and slower, until only a low, moaning wail reached their ears. It was of a remarkably somniferous character,—the cunning Le Duc had evidently some object in playing thus. Presently the music ceased altogether. Not a sound was heard, except the soughing of the wind round the tower. Still their patience had to be tried. Something was keeping Le Duc.

At last they saw a figure coming towards the tower. Perhaps it was not Le Duc. If a stranger, they must stop his mouth. Perhaps they might have to bind him. They could cut off a sufficient length of rope for the purpose.

He appeared to be a peasant wearing a broad-brimmed hat and a shirt, with a long stick or ox-goad in his hand. They were so well concealed, crouching down against the wall, that he did not perceive them.

Rayner and Brown were on the point of springing out to seize him, when he said, in a low whisper, “Don’t you know me, friends? Follow me, but bend down as low as you can, that if seen from the house you may be taken for my dogs or sheep. Pardon me for saying so.”

“No necessity for that; lead on, we will follow,” said Rayner.

Walking upright, staff in hand, he proceeded at a good rate across the open space at the back of the village. They could see the lights glimmering from several houses on its borders.

They soon reached a stream with a long wooden bridge thrown over it. Here, as they would be exposed to view, the sooner they could get across it the better. They hurried over, still stooping down, Le Duc walking erect. At last their backs began to ache from remaining so long in a bent position.

They were thankful when they reached the edge of a plantation, and Le Duc, stopping, said, “You have acted admirably, my friends. Come on a little farther to a spot where we shall find some clothes in which you can disguise yourselves. We can get over some leagues before daylight, and the inhabitants we shall then meet with are all blacks, and being very stupid will not discover that you are English, provided those who do not speak French hold their tongues.”

“A very right precaution,” said Rayner. After he had thanked Le Duc for his exertions, he added, “Remember, Brown and Fletcher, neither of you attempt to open your mouths except to put food into them. If you are spoken to, make off, or pretend that you are deaf and dumb.”

After proceeding another mile or so, they reached a solitary hut, partially in ruins. Le Duc here produced five bundles from behind a heap of rubbish, covered over with bushes.

“These I brought by the desire of Madame La Roche,” he said. “She and her daughters, and their black girls, and old François, worked away very hard to get them finished. They began the very moment you and the gendarmes left the house. It was Mademoiselle Sophie’s idea, she’s a clever young lady. Directly the dresses were completed, François and I started off on horseback, as we knew the road you had taken, I dressed as you see me, and carrying my fiddle in a bag hung round my neck. I was a strolling player once, and belonged to a circus before I became a sailor, so I was at home on horseback, and I was at home also when playing my tricks off on the gendarmes. I have keen wits and strong nerves, messieurs. One without the other is of small value. United, wonders can be worked. How I did bamboozle those stupid fellows! It was fortunate, however, that none of the black crew of the schooner or my late shipmates appeared, or I should have been discovered. Now, put on these dresses, they are such as are worn by the planters of this country, and you can pretend you are going to a fair at Goave to buy mules, that is what François advises, and he has got a good head on his shoulders. I wish that he could have come with us, but as soon as he had deposited these clothes he had to ride back as fast as he could to attend to his mistress, and I undertook the rest.”

“You have indeed done your part well,” said Rayner. “What shall we do with our own clothes?”

“Do your jackets and trousers up in bundles, and carry them with you. You must take care, however, not to let them out of your hands,” answered Le Duc.

As they were in a solitary place, with no chance of being overheard, the men, as they looked at themselves by the light of a lantern Le Duc had carried, though he had not until now lit it, indulged in hearty laughter.

“You do look like an overseer, Brown,” said Jack, “and I should be precious sorry to be a black slave when you had your whip lifted above my shoulders. You’d hit mighty hard, I’ve a notion.”

As Rayner and Oliver surveyed each other, they expressed strong doubts whether their disguise was sufficient to enable them to pass undetected, and they agreed that it would be necessary to keep as much as possible out of the way of the inhabitants. Still, the risk must be run. The consequences of being caught would be very serious to them, yet more so to Le Duc, who would almost to a certainty be shot for having assisted in their escape.

Having done up their clothes in the handkerchiefs which had contained the dresses they now had on, they pushed forward.

Le Duc had never before been in that part of the country, but he had received minute directions from François, which helped greatly to guide them.

At length they came to a dense jungle. François had told Le Duc of this, and that he would find a path through it. They hunted about for some time in vain.

“Come this way, messieurs!” exclaimed Le Duc, at length. “This must be the path François told me of.” He had gone a short distance to the southward, and now led on, feeling the way with his long stick. The others followed. The path was narrow, and the trees met overhead, so that they were in complete darkness. On they went, keeping close behind each other, for there was no room for two to walk abreast.

Le Duc walked at a good pace. The jungle seemed interminable. They must have gone on, they fancied, for two or three miles, when they found their feet splashing in water.

“I am afraid we are getting into a swamp, messieurs,” said Le Duc. “It cannot be helped; we must scramble through it somehow or other. If we had daylight it would be an advantage. It won’t do to stop here, however.”

The water grew deeper. The ground had now become very soft, and they were often up to their knees in mud, so that their progress was greatly delayed.

“We shall cut but a sorry appearance, messieurs, if we meet any one when morning breaks,” observed Le Duc. “As soon as we get to dry ground we must stop and put ourselves to rights.”

“Perhaps we shall, and it would be as well if we can wash the mud off our legs,” said Rayner. “But go on, my fine fellow; if this path is in general use it cannot be much worse than it is.”

Rayner was right. In a short time the water became shallower, and soon afterwards they got on to firm ground. To their very great satisfaction they at last found themselves out of the jungle. Before them rose a hill, over which they had to climb.

At the foot of the hill they came to a clear, broad stream, passing over a shingly bed. Le Duc, feeling the depth with his staff, walked in. It was sufficiently shallow to enable them to ford it without difficulty; and they took the opportunity of washing off the mud which had stuck to their legs in the swamp.

All this time poor Jack never once complained, but he was suffering no small amount of pain. His great fear was that he might have to give in and delay the rest.

On the other side of the stream the country showed signs of cultivation. They passed outside several plantations, but what they were they could not tell; still, as they could manage to make their way to the eastward they went on.

“We must be near the large village François spoke of,” said Le Duc. “He advised that we should go to the southward of it, as the country on that side is more easily traversed, and we may hope thus to get by without being discovered if we can pass it before daybreak.”

They accordingly took the direction as advised. After going some way they heard the barking of dogs and saw a light gleaming, they supposed, from the window of a cottage, whose inmates were up early, or, perhaps, where some one lay dying or dead.

At length the bright streaks of early dawn appeared in the sky ahead.

Jack at last had to acknowledge that he could go no farther.

“If we could but reach some hut or other where the blacks would take care of me, I would be ready to stop sooner than let you be caught, sir,” he said, addressing Rayner.

“No, I will never allow that,” was the answer. “We’ll get you along a little farther, until we can find some place to rest in. There’s a wood I see ahead, and we must conceal ourselves in it until you are able to go on again. If Mr Crofton likes to lead on the rest and try to get across the frontier, he may do so, but I’ll stick by you, Jack. Don’t be afraid.”

“Thank you, Bill, thank you!” said Jack, pressing his old messmate’s hand, scarcely knowing what he was saying, but thinking somehow that they were again boys together. “You were always a brave, generous chap, and I know you’d never desert a shipmate.”

Poor Jack was getting worse every moment. Rayner made no reply, but calling Brown, they helped him along between them, lifting him over the rough places as they made their way towards the wood. They reached it just as daylight burst on the world, as it does in the tropics, the hot sun rushing up immediately afterwards to blaze away with intense heat.

Oliver, with Le Duc and Tom, hurried on ahead to look for some place where they might have a chance of effectually concealing themselves. In a short time Oliver came back.

“We have discovered just the sort of place we want,” he said. “The sooner we can stow ourselves away in it the better. Let me take your place and help Peek along.”

Rayner would not allow this.

“I can support him a mile farther if necessary,” he answered.

In a short time, making their way through the jungle, and crossing a small stream which would afford them water, they saw before them a huge tree, upturned from the roots, forming beneath it a cavern of considerable size, which Le Duc and Tom were engaged in clearing out. There was a risk of being bitten by snakes, which might have made it their abode, but that could not be avoided. Le Duc was running his stick into every hole he could see to drive out any which might be concealed. In other respects, no better place could be found.

Rayner and Brown lifted in Jack and placed him on the ground, and Rayner gave him some of the food they had brought from the tower. They had only enough, unfortunately, for one meal. Meantime it was better than nothing, and resolved to give Jack his share.

The rest of the party had collected some branches and brushwood to conceal the entrance. This done, they all crept in.

Le Duc, who had surveyed their place of concealment from the outside, declared that no person not actually searching for them would suspect that any one was there. No sooner had they swallowed their food than they all fell asleep.

Rayner was the first to awaken. He listened, but could hear no sound except the buzz of insects, and he knew, by the light which came in from the upper part of the entrance, that the sun was shining brightly.

Jack was still asleep. He was breathing easily, and appeared to be better; but still it was not probable that he would be able to continue the journey. It would be necessary, therefore, at all events, to remain in the cavern all the day, but should he be well enough they might continue their journey at nightfall. Their chief difficulty would be to procure food from the neighbouring village without exciting suspicion.

Rayner was unwilling to arouse his companions. At length, however, Oliver awoke; then Le Duc sat up rubbing his eyes.

They consulted as to what was to be done. Oliver agreed with Rayner that they must remain where they were, but Le Duc was for pushing on. When, however, Rayner reminded him that Jack could not possibly move as fast as necessary, if at all, he consented to remain.

“But should the gendarmes come in this direction to look for us, we shall probably be discovered,” he observed.

“We must hope, then, that they will not come in this direction,” said Oliver.

“But what about food, monsieur?” asked Le Duc.

“We must try to go without it for a few hours,” answered Rayner. “We shall be well rested, and must tie our handkerchiefs tightly round our stomachs. I have got enough for the sick man, who requires it more than we do; but we must not let him know that we have none, or he will probably refuse to touch it.”

“We can at all events procure some water,” said Le Duc. “Give me your hats, gentlemen; they will hold as much as we want.”

Though Rayner and Oliver would have preferred some other means of obtaining the water, they willingly gave their hats to Le Duc, who crept out with them, and soon returned with both full to the brim.

The thirst of the party being quenched, for a short time they suffered much less than before from the pangs of hunger.

Tom and Brown were ready to do what their officers wished, only Tom groaned at having nothing to eat.

Jack slept on while the rest again lay down. The light which came through the bushes began somewhat to decrease, and Rayner saw that the sun was sinking behind the trees in the west. He was watching Jack, who at length awoke. The moment he opened his eyes, Rayner offered him the food he had kept ready in his pocket.

“Come, Jack, stow this away in your inside as fast as you can, that you may have strength to go on as soon as it is time to start. We don’t intend to spend our lives here, like mice in a hole.” Jack did as he was bid, without asking questions. Just as he had finished, Tom groaned out, “I shall die soon if I don’t get something to eat.”

“Nonsense lad; you can hold out for a few hours longer,” replied Brown. “I’m just as bad as you are, for that matter.”

Le Duc guessed what they were talking about. He himself felt desperately hungry.

“I tell you what, messieurs, without food we shall make slow progress. I’ll go into the village and try to procure some. I shall easily learn from some person, before I venture to enter, whether the gendarmes are there, and if they are not, we shall be safe for the present. They will, I hope, fancying that you made your way back to the house of Madame La Roche, have gone off there. We must hope for the best, and I will try and invent some reason for wishing to purchase food. The kind lady supplied me with money, so that I shall have no difficulty on that score.”

Rayner, who in reality suffered more than any one, as he had had less to eat, at last consented to the proposal of Le Duc, who set off.

As soon as he had gone the bushes were drawn close again. The party sat in silence, anxiously waiting his return.

They waited and waited. Again it became dark.

Jack declared that he felt strong enough to go on.

“Yes, you may; but I could not budge an inch until I have had some food,” growled Tom. “I wish that that Frenchman would come back.”

“Shut up there, mate, and don’t be grumbling. You’re not worse than the rest of us,” said Brown.

Time wore on; it was now perfectly dark. They listened eagerly for the sound of Le Duc’s footsteps.

Rayner had made up his mind to go out and try to ascertain what had become of him, or at all events to obtain some food, for he felt that neither he nor the rest of the party could get through the night when travelling without it. Later on it would be still more difficult to obtain, as the inhabitants would be in bed. He thought he should be able to find his way back to their place of concealment; so, desiring the party to keep perfectly silent, he set out. He had not gone far in the wood, when he heard footsteps. He crouched down behind a tree, when, looking out, he saw a man, with something on his back, approaching. He hoped that it was Le Duc, but it might be a stranger. He kept quiet.

The person came nearer, now stopping, now turning on one side, now on the other. It must be Le Duc, thought Rayner. He has lost his way, perhaps that may account for his long absence. Stepping from behind the tree, he advanced.

“What are you searching for, my friend?” he asked, in French.

The man stopped, and seemed inclined to run away.

“Le Duc, what’s the matter?” asked Rayner, in a suppressed tone.

“Ah, monsieur! is it you?” cried Le Duc. “I thought I should never find the place where I left you. I saw it only in daylight. Things look so different in the dark. I have had a narrow escape, but I have got some food now. If you follow my advice you will eat and set off immediately. Is the cave near?”

“No; but I can lead you to it,” answered Rayner.

As they went along, Le Duc said, “When I got near the village I met an old black, who told me there were no strangers in the place, and that I might easily procure what I wanted. I accordingly went on boldly, until I reached a cottage just in the outskirts. I entered and found the people ready enough to sell me some bread and sausages, charging me three times as much as they were worth. I also procured this straw bag to put them in. While I was there packing them up several persons who had come in were talking, and I heard them say that a party of soldiers had just arrived, on their way from Leogane to Port Saint Louis in the bay, and that they were ordered to look out for several English spies, and that some blacks, who knew the Englishmen, had accompanied the soldiers to assist in finding them. As soon as I heard this I hastily put some of the things into my bag, not waiting for the remainder, and hurried out of the hut. As I did so, what was my dismay to see three of the soldiers, accompanied by one of the black fellows who had escaped from the wreck! Were I to have run away they would have suspected me, so I walked on whistling, as if I had nothing to fear from them.

“As mischance would have it, they were proceeding in the same direction, and it is my belief that they were even then going in search of you. Thoughtless of the consequence, I happened to whistle an air which I sang that night on board the schooner when we were becalmed. The rogue of a black recognised it, for, turning my head, I saw him coming after me. I was silent directly, and began to walk very fast. Fortunately it was almost dusk, and, reaching some thick bushes, I dodged behind them. The black passed me and went on. I lay quiet, and after a time he came back, and I heard him tell the soldiers, who had followed him, that he must have been mistaken; so they then proposed going back to the village.

“I waited until they were out of hearing, and then set off to try and find my way to the cave, but I missed it, and have been wandering about ever since.”

No one troubled Le Duc with questions. They were too eager to dispose of the contents of his bag. They could not see what they were eating, but they were not inclined to be particular. As soon as they had finished their meal, being told by Rayner that soldiers were in the neighbourhood, they begged at once to continue their journey; but Rayner was very doubtful whether Jack could keep up, though he declared that he was ready.

When, however, he crept out of the cave, he was scarcely able to stand, much less to walk any distance.

“I must remain, then,” said Rayner, “and you, Oliver, go on with the other two men and Le Duc, and when he has seen you safely into Spanish territory he will, perhaps, come back and assist me and Jack Peek. If he cannot, we must do our best by ourselves. We have been in a more difficult position together before now, and managed to escape.”

Oliver, however, would not hear of this, and it was finally settled that the whole party should remain in their cave another night and day.

Jack was very unhappy at being the cause of their detention; but Rayner cheered him up by reminding him that it was not his fault, and perhaps, after all, it was the best thing they could do.

They accordingly all crept into the cave and went to sleep.

In the morning light enough found its way through the bushes to enable them to eat breakfast. They, of course, took care not to speak above a whisper, though listening all the time for the sound of footsteps; but as no one came near them, they hoped that their place of concealment was unknown to any of the villagers, who might otherwise have pointed it out to the soldiers.

The day went by. All the food Le Duc had brought was consumed, except a small portion kept for Jack. He offered to go for more, but Rayner judged it imprudent to let him return to the village, where he would be recognised as having come on the previous evening. They accordingly had to go supperless to sleep, Tom grumbling, as usual, at his hard fate.

When daylight streamed into the cavern, Le Duc declared that he could hold out no longer, and that, both for his own sake and that of others, he must go and get some food.

“The soldiers will have gone away by this time,” he observed, “and the black people in the village can have no object in detaining me. If they do, I will bribe them to let me off, and they know if they hand me over to the soldiers that they will get nothing.”

The hunger all were feeling and his arguments prevailed, and he set off, promising to be back as soon as possible, and to take care that no one followed him.

Rayner felt some misgiving as he disappeared. All they could do in the meantime was to keep close in their hole.

All day they waited, but Le Duc did not return.

Tom muttered, “The Frenchman has deserted us after all.”

Even Brown expressed some doubts about his honesty.

“You never can trust those mounseers,” he said in reply to Tom’s remark.

“Be silent there, men,” said Rayner. “Our good friend has probably thought it safer to hide himself, and will manage to get back at night.”

Night came, however, and still Le Duc did not appear. Rayner and Oliver became more anxious than ever.

“I must not let you fellows starve,” said Rayner at last. “I’ll go out and try and get provisions of some sort. Le Duc spoke of several cottages on the outskirts of the village, and I’ll call at one of them and try to bribe the inhabitants, or to move their compassion; perhaps I may get tidings of our friend.”

Though either Oliver or Brown would gladly have gone instead, they knew that Rayner was the best person to undertake the expedition.

“If I do not return before midnight, you must all set out and travel eastward as fast as you can. How do you feel, Peek? Can you manage to move along.”

“Yes, sir,” answered Jack. “I could if you were with us, but I am afraid if you were left behind in the grip of soldiers I shouldn’t do much.”

“Don’t let that idea weigh on your mind. If I am captured and sent to prison, there I must remain until I am exchanged for a French officer, though I don’t think there’s much chance of my being caught.”

Having given his final directions, Rayner set off.

He went on till he saw a light streaming through a cottage window. The better sort of people were alone likely to be sitting up at that hour, as the poorer blacks, he knew, went to bed at sundown and rose at daybreak.

He went up to the door and knocked.

“May I come in?” he asked in French; and without waiting for an answer he lifted the latch.

An old mulatto woman was seated spinning. Near her sat a young girl of much lighter complexion, with remarkably pretty features, engaged in working on some pieces of female finery. She rose as he entered, and the old woman uttered an exclamation of astonishment.

He at once explained his errand. He wanted food, and was ready to pay for it. They would not be so hard-hearted as to refuse it to starving men.

The girl looked at the old woman, who was apparently her grandmother.

“Mon père will soon be back. Will monsieur object to wait?” she asked.

“I have no time to wait; here, accept this,” said Rayner, holding out a dollar which he fortunately had in his pocket.

The old woman’s eyes glittered.

“Give monsieur what he wants, but keep enough for your father’s supper and breakfast to-morrow. It is strange that he should require food since he is so rich.”

“I want sufficient for several persons—anything you have got,” said Rayner.

The girl went to a shelf at the other end of the room and got down a couple of loaves of maize bread, some cakes, salt-fish, and fruit.

“You can take some of these,” she said, placing them on the table; “but how are you to carry them?”

He had a silk handkerchief, which he produced, intending to tie up the provisions in. The girl looked at it with admiration.

“Perhaps you will accept this, and give me a basket, or a matting bag instead?” he said.

She quickly produced a bag large enough to hold all the things.

“Now can you give me any news of anything happening in the village?”

“Yes, some soldiers have been there, and impudent fellows they were; some of them came to our house, and if my Pierre had been present there would have been a fight. I am glad that they have gone. It is said they were in search of deserters or spies, and that they had caught one of them, but could not find the rest. If monsieur dislikes the military as much as I do, he’ll keep out of their way.”

The girl said this in a significant manner. Rayner thanked her and the old woman, and advised them to say nothing about his visit.

“If we know nothing we can say nothing, eh, monsieur? Bon voyage, and keep out of the way of the soldiers,” whispered the girl as she let him out.

He could not help thinking, as he hurried back towards the cave, that she suspected he was one of the persons the soldiers were in search of. Although she wished to befriend him, her father might be in a different mood. There was the danger, too, that if poor Le Duc was caught, he might be tortured to make him confess where his companions were. Rayner considered, therefore, that it would be imprudent to remain longer in the cave, and that it would be safer even to carry Jack, should he be unable to walk, than to delay their journey.

He got back safely, and the food he brought soon restored the spirits of the party. Even Jack declared that he was strong enough to walk a dozen miles if necessary. They were in great hopes, therefore, of getting across the border before daybreak. They regretted greatly the loss of Le Duc, who had served them so faithfully, especially as they feared that he himself was in danger of suffering in consequence of the assistance he had given them.

Rayner led the way. The stars being as bright as on the previous night, he had no difficulty in directing his course. The country was much of the same character as that they had previously crossed. In some parts they came to plantations, and could distinguish the residences of the proprietors.

Now they had to make their way by narrow paths through jungles, now to wade through marshes.

Jack, helped by Brown and Tom, got on better than might have been expected. Rayner intended to halt for a short time at the first convenient spot they could reach.

He had for some distance observed no signs of cultivation, when he found that they were passing close to a plantation. Then there appeared a house on one side, then another and another. Barking dogs came rushing out, and they had some difficulty in keeping them at bay. The brutes followed them, however, joined by others. A voice from a gateway shouted, “Who goes there?”

“Friends!” answered Rayner.

“Advance, friends, and show yourselves, and give the countersign,” said a sentry, at the same time calling out the guard.

To run would have been useless, besides which it is not a movement British officers and seamen are wont to make, except after an enemy.

Rayner therefore determined to put a bold face upon the matter, advanced with his companions, and the next instant they found themselves surrounded by a body of French soldiers, whose looks, as they held up a couple of lanterns, were anything but satisfactory.

Chapter Thirty Four.

Recaptured—An unexpected rescue.

“Whence do you come and where are you going, mes amis?” asked the sergeant of the guard, addressing Tom, who was nearest him.

“What’s that you say, old chap?” said Tom, forgetting the strict orders he had received to hold his tongue.

“Ah, what language is that?” exclaimed the sergeant, holding up his lantern and examining the sailor’s countenance. “You are not a Frenchman, I’ll vow.” He turned from one to the other, looking in the faces of each. “Why, I believe these are the very men we were ordered to search for. Seize them all. Take care that none escape. There are five of them, the very number we were told of, and one, the traitor, we have already got. Can any of you speak French? though I doubt it.”

“Should you be satisfied, monsieur sergeant, if we do speak French, and better French than many of the people about here?” asked Rayner. “If so, will you let us go on our journey? do we look like English sailors?”

“I don’t know how English sailors generally look,” said the sergeant, gruffly, and rather taken aback at being suddenly addressed in his own language. “You certainly have the appearance of overseers, or people of that sort, but your countenances betray you. I am not to be deceived. Bring them along into the guard-room.”

In vain Rayner pleaded that he and his companions were in a hurry to proceed on their journey.

They were dragged into the building, and a guard with fixed bayonets was placed over them. For the remainder of the night they had to sit on a hard bench, with their backs against the wall, sleeping as well as they could in so uncomfortable a position. At daybreak the next morning Sergeant Gabot, by whom they had been captured, entering the room, ordered the guard to bring them along into the presence of Captain Dupuis. The seamen, imitating their officers, quietly followed the sergeant, who led the way to a room in the same building. Here Captain Dupuis, a fierce-looking gentleman wearing a huge pair of moustaches, and a long sword by his side, was found seated at a table with two other officers.

He cast his eye over the prisoners and inquired their names. Here was a puzzle, for neither Rayner nor Oliver had thought of assuming French ones. They, therefore, without hesitation, gave their own, as did Jack.

“Please, sir, what does the chap say?” asked Brown, when the officer addressed him.

“He wishes to know your name,” said Oliver.

Captain Dupuis, twirling his moustaches, took them down as well as he could.

“These names do not sound like those of Frenchmen,” he said.

“And such we do not pretend to be,” replied Rayner, stepping forward. “We found it necessary to assume these disguises for the sake of escaping from prison. We are not spies, and have no desire to injure France or Frenchmen except in open warfare.”

He then gave an account of their object in approaching the coast and the way in which they had been so unwillingly compelled to land.

“I am inclined to believe you, monsieur,” said Captain Dupuis, more politely than at first. “But my duty is to convey you to Port Louis, where my regiment is stationed, and the colonel will decide on your case. We will march directly.”

Captain Dupuis appeared not to be ill-disposed, for he ordered some breakfast to be brought to them in the hall.

“Thank you for your kindness, monsieur,” said Rayner. “With your permission we will put on our proper dresses, which are contained in these bundles.”

“Assuredly you have my leave. It will show the people that we have two English officers in captivity, as well as some of their men, and probably the report will be spread that an English frigate and her crew have been taken,” observed the captain, laughing.

“Well, I do feel more like myself now,” exclaimed Brown, as he put on his shirt and jacket, and tied his black handkerchief in a lover’s knot round his throat.

Rayner and Oliver, though they did not say so, felt very much as their men did, thankful to throw off their disguises.

As soon as they had finished breakfast, the soldiers fell in, the prisoners being placed in the centre, and with the captain at their head they commenced their march to the southward.

It was not until late in the evening that they arrived at their destination. There were three old-fashioned forts, one intended to support the other, commanding the entrance of the bay.

Rayner and Oliver, as they approached, took note of their position, and they remarked that the water appeared to be deep close up to the heights on which the forts were situated. In the largest were several buildings, the residence of the commandant, the barracks, and a small edifice with strongly-barred windows, which they soon discovered to be a prison.

They were halted in front of these buildings, while the captain went in to make his report to the commandant. After waiting some time they were marched in between guards with fixed bayonets.

Their examination was very similar to that which they had before gone through. Rayner and Oliver, however, hoped that their account of themselves would be believed, and that they would, even at the worst, only be detained as prisoners-of-war. Still, they did not quite like the looks of the commandant, who was evidently of a more savage disposition than his subordinate. He glared at the English, and declared they he believed they were capable of the most abominable acts of treachery and deceit.

Rayner replied calmly, and pointed out how improbable it was that he and his companions should have landed for any sinister object.

“If you come not as spies yourselves, you come to land French spies. Miscreant traitors to their country!” exclaimed the commandant. “One of them has been caught. Death will be the penalty of his crime. Bring forward the witnesses.”

As he spoke the soldiers stepped aside and two black seamen were led forward. Rayner recognised them as the most ruffianly of the schooner’s crew. First one, and then the other, swore that the vessel had been sent to the coast for the purpose of landing some French spies, that the schooner was to wait for them, and then when they had gained information as to the strength of the forts and vessels in the harbours they were to return to the frigate.

In vain Rayner explained the truth. The commandant scornfully answered that he could not believe an English officer upon his oath, that he should send a report of their capture to Leogane, and that for his part he hoped that he should have orders to shoot them all forthwith.

The mock examination terminated, they were marched away to the prison on the other side of the fort. The door being opened, they were unceremoniously thrust in, one after the other, and it was closed behind them. As it was by this time growing dusk, and there were only small, narrow windows close under the roof, they were left in almost perfect obscurity, so that they could not venture to move from the spot where they stood. As, however, their eyes got accustomed to the gloom, they found that they were in a room about twelve or fourteen feet square, the floor and sides being of roughly hewn stone. Round it ran a stone bench, just above which they could see several massive iron rings fixed in the walls.

“While we have light we had better pick out the cleanest spots we can find,” said Oliver. “We shall be kept here to-night, at all events, and the surly commandant will not allow us any luxuries.”

As they moved a few paces forward, they saw three persons chained to the wall at the farther end of the room.

“Who are you?”

“Alas! alas!” exclaimed one of them, leaning eagerly forward; and they recognised Le Duc’s voice. “Ah, messieurs, you will understand the less said the better as to the past.”

Rayner took the hint, guessing that Le Duc was unwilling to have anything said in the presence of the two other prisoners which might implicate Madame La Roche or François.

“You have heard, messieurs, that they have condemned me to death,” continued Le Duc, “and the wonder is that they have not shot me already, but I know that at any moment I may be led out. I should wish to live that I may play the fiddle and make others happy as well as myself.”

“I am very sorry to hear this. If the commandant would believe us, we can prove your innocence, and, surely, our word ought to be taken instead of that of the two blacks,” said Rayner.

“So it would, according to law, for the evidence of the blacks is worth nothing, and is not received in a court of justice. It proves that the commandant has resolved, at all costs, to wreak his hatred of the English on your heads.”

Rayner and Oliver seated themselves on the stone bench near him. The men had drawn together on the opposite corner. Le Duc narrated how he had been captured just as he was quitting the village. His great fear had been lest he should be compelled to betray them; and he declared to Rayner, who believed him, that he would have undergone any torture rather than have done so.

Le Duc whispered that the two other prisoners had been condemned for murder.

“Pleasant sort of companions,” observed Oliver. “We may as well let them have their side of the prison to themselves.”

The men in the meantime had scraped the seat as clean as they could with their knives.

Tom, as usual, began to grumble.

“We must take the rough and the smooth together,” observed Jack. “I am hungry enough myself, and I hope the mounseers don’t intend to starve us, though maybe we shan’t get roast beef and plum pudding.”

“Don’t talk of it,” cried Brown; “I could eat half an ox if I had the chance.”

While they were talking the door opened, and a man appeared, carrying a lantern and a pitcher in one hand, and a basket in the other, which he placed on the bench near them.

The pitcher contained water, and the basket some very brown, heavy-looking bread, with a couple of tin mugs. Having allowed the other prisoners to drink, and given each of them a piece of bread, he handed the basket with its contents to the Englishmen.

“You Anglais like ros’ beef. Here you eat this. Good enough for you,” he said, in a surly tone.

They were all too hungry to refuse the bread or the water, which, in spite of its brackish taste, quenched the thirst from which they had long been suffering.

Their gaoler left them the lantern, in order that they might see how to divide the bread. It assisted them also to select places on which to stretch themselves round the room, and, in spite of the hardness of their couches, in a short time were all asleep.

Some more bread and water was brought them in the morning, and a similar unpalatable meal was provided in the afternoon. This was evidently to be their only food during their imprisonment. They had no one to complain to, no means of obtaining redress; so, like wise men, they made up their minds to bear it, though Tom grumbled and growled all day long at the way in which he was treated.

Rayner supposed that the commandant was waiting for a reply to the report he had sent to Leogane. Until that could arrive, no change either for the better or worse was likely to be made in their treatment.

Le Duc was still allowed to live; but, in spite of his high spirits, the feeling that he might at any moment be led out and shot was telling upon him. The two officers and Jack did their best to encourage him, and, under the circumstances, it was wonderful how he kept up. In the evening the gaoler appeared with their usual fare.

“There will be one less of you to feed to-morrow,” he growled out, looking at Le Duc, “and I can’t say but that you five others mayn’t have to join him company, for while the firing party are out it is as easy to shoot six as one.”

Le Duc made no answer, but bent his head down on his manacled hands. It was the first sign of deep emotion he had exhibited.

“I hope the fellow is only trying to alarm you for the purpose of exercising his own bad feelings,” said Rayner, after the surly gaoler had gone.

Again left in darkness, they prepared to pass another disagreeable night. Rayner felt that their position was critical in the extreme. He and his companions, accused as they were of being spies, might be led out at any moment and shot. He therefore considered it his duty to prepare his companions as best he could for the worst. Oliver he knew was as ready to die as he was himself. He spoke earnestly and faithfully to the others, pointing out the unspeakable importance of being prepared to stand in the presence of the Judge of all men. He was thankful to hear Jack’s reply, which expressed the simple hope of the Christian—faith in Christ as a Saviour; but the other two were silent.

After Rayner and his companions had talked for some time they stretched themselves on the bench to try and obtain some sleep. That was more easily sought for than found, for no sooner were they quiet than countless creatures began to sting, and bite, and crawl over them. Tom was continually slapping himself, and moaning and groaning.

But, in spite of their hard stone couches and the attacks of the insects, they did manage to drop off occasionally.

Rayner’s eyes had been closed some time when he was awakened by the dull roar of a gun fired from seaward. He started up, as did his companions.

“Where did that come from?” exclaimed Oliver.

Before Rayner could answer, the sound of eight or nine guns, a sloop’s whole broadside, was heard, followed by the crash of the shot as they struck the fortification.

In an instant the whole fort was in an uproar, the officers shouting their orders to the men, and the men calling to each other, as they rushed from their quarters to the ramparts. They had evidently been found napping, for before a single gun had been discharged from the fort, the shot from another broadside came plunging into it.

The game, however, was not to be all on one side. The Frenchmen’s guns were heard going off as fast as they could get their matches ready. They could easily be distinguished by the far louder noise they made. Those from the two other forts at the same time could be heard firing away. Cries and shrieks rose from wounded men, and a loud explosion, as if a gun had burst, rent the air.

“The vessel attacking is a corvette,” cried Rayner. “She must have run close in for her shot to strike in the way they are doing. It is a bold enterprise, and I pray she may be successful for her sake as well as ours.”

“Can she be the Ariel or Lily?” asked Oliver.

“Whichever she is, the attempt would not have been made without good hope of success,” remarked Rayner.

“I wish that we were out of this, and aboard her,” exclaimed Jack.

“So do I,” cried Brown. “I don’t like being boxed up here while such work is going on. Couldn’t we manage to break out?”

“We are safe here, and we’d better remain where we are,” said Tom; “only I hope none of those round shot will find their way into this place.”

On the impulse of the moment Jack and Brown made a rush at the door, but it was far too strongly bolted to allow them to break it open. The other prisoners sat with their hands before them, hoping probably, as Tom did, that no shot would find its way among them.