Roy of Roy's Court

Front matter

Copyrighted in the United States by J. B. Lippincott Company BY WILLIAM WESTALL AUTHOR OF 'NIGEL FORTESCUE,' 'THE PHANTOM CITY,' 'a QUEER RACE,' 'TWO PINCHES OF SNUFF,' etc VOL. I. LONDON WARD & DOWNEY 12 YORK STREET, COVENT GARDEN, W.C. Dedication TO COLONEL MARK LOCKWOOD M.P. FOR WEST ESSEX THIS STORY OF ' BATTLES, SIEGES, FORTUNES ' IS INSCRIBED BV HIS FRIEND AND CONSTITUENT THE AUTHOR CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I.— CAPTURED, 9 II.— THE ABBAYE, 18 III.— A HAPPY THOUGHT, 29 IV— A FRIEND AT COURT, .... 40 V.— THE CHEVALIER'S CHOICE, ... 58 VI.— SHOT, 69 VII.— JULIE'S WARNING, 79 VIII.— SHADOWED, 91 IX. -A CLOSE SHAVE, 103 X.— A STRANGE SAIL, 123 XL— THE PRIVATEER, 138 XII.— BECALMED, 144 XIIL— THE BOMB, 158 XIV.— A HOT CHASE, 168 XV.— A NEAR THING, 175 XVI.— FLEUR-DE-LYS COURT, -. . , .

Chapter I Captured

In the year 1798 there happened, judged by its consequences, the most important event of my life. I was taken prisoner by the French. This was the way of it : The Sylph, a smart forty-gun frigate, of which I was first lieutenant, had been cruising in the narrow seas and off the northern coast of France, capturing the enemy's merchantmen, engaging his war-ships, chasing and cutting out his privateers, and generally giving him all the trouble she could, in the which, as her captain was young, enterprising, and daring, and well seconded by his officers and crew, she was very successful. On a winter day, early in the year, Le Bonnet 9 A Rouge, a thirty-gun brig, which we had chased a whole afternoon, succeeded in evading us and anchoring under the guns of a battery at the mouth of the Seine. On this, Captain Wharton, who could not bear to be balked, decided to cut her out.

But before the feat could be attempted it was necessary to take bearings and soundings, recon noitre the battery, and ascertain the strength and position of several gunboats and armed luggers which, as we knew, were lying in the Seine. For this service I volunteered, and suggested a mean whereby it might be accomplished. The plan I proposed was to capture a fishing smack, of which there were plenty about, disguise myself and two or three of our fellows in the fishermen's clothing, and then sail up the river in broad daylight, making our observations at leisure. I spoke French so fluently and, as I flattered my self, so correctly, that if any questions were asked I felt pretty sure that I should be able to answer them without exciting suspicion. Captain Wharton approved, the fishing-boat was captured, and, taking with me a quartermaster and two A.B.s whom I could thoroughly trust,— all as well as myself rigged up in the fishermen's togs,— I sailed up the Seine as far as Honfleur, then stood over to Harfleur, making my observations and taking all the bearings I needed.

As I ran between Le Bonnet Rouge and the battery, the better to note them both, one of the brig's officers, a big man with a fierce red face and still redder hair, whom I took to be her captain, hailed us and asked whether we had seen aught of the Sylph. I said that we had seen her a few hours previously outside the bay, sailing nor'-west-by-north under a press of canvas. This seemed to satisfy the gentleman, and, though he looked hard at me, as if there was something either in my appearance or in my accent which piqued his curiosity, he let me pass without further questioning. At nightfall we reached the Sylph, which had been standing off and on during our cruise. After making my report, I told the captain that in my opinion it would be quite impossible to cut out Le Bonnet Rouge by main force.

I thought, however, that she might be taken by stratagem, which I explained, and which after some discussion it was resolved to adopt, so soon as the wind should be in the right quarter. My plan was to take the long-boat with twenty picked men, row up the river after sunset, run alongside the brig, and get aboard of her by pretending that we belonged to La Lionne (one of the gunboats), overpower the watch on the deck, batten down the hatches, slip the cables, and then make sail for the bay, where, all being well, we should fall in with the Sylph and get help to secure our prisoners. I calculated that the gunners in the fort, though they might guess what had happened, would not open fire on the brig, for fear of hurting their own people ; and once fairly under way, we could bid defiance to both gunboats and luggers.

A few nights later, the conditions as to wind and tide being favourable, we set out, and two hours after leaving the Sylph were under the brig's starboard quarter. My men, who had received their orders beforehand and knew exactly what to do, made fast the boat, and I boarded the vessel by the rope ladder which hung over the bulwarks. ' Who goes there ? ' asked the officer of the watch. 'Friend, from La Lionne,' I answered. ' From La Lionne ! And what do you want ? ' ' The captain has sent me with a very important message ; and here is a letter.' ' M. le Capitaine Dufour is ashore. He shall have the letter when he returns. But what want all these men ? And, mafoi, they are ' Before the officer could finish his sentence he was prone on the deck, and in a trice every other man of the watch was in the same position and securely pinioned.

The hatches had been battened down, and a gun run on each to prevent the people below from breaking out. All this took only a few minutes, the watch, fortunately for us, being very weak and half asleep; but when the prisoners recovered from their surprise they became so noisy and abusive that I had to threaten to knock them on the head. This pacified them. But their comrades under hatches, now fully aware of what had happened, were making a terrible uproar, shouting to the people at the fort, 'Les Anglais! les Anglais! A nous! d nous!' and dis charging muskets and pistols from the ports. Two or three of them jumped into the sea and swam ashore. But we were too busy making sail and slipping cables to heed the hubbub. ' Let those shout who win,' I said, as the canvas filled and the ship paid off. ' Only give me an hour of this breeze, and they may all go to the deuce.' Bang went all the guns in the fort ; a shot flew across our bows ; alarm-bells rang ashore ; rockets careered athwart the sky ; and by the light of the moon (which just then rose above a cloud-bank) we could see the luggers and gun-boats making sail. ' Never mind, sir,' says the quartermaster at the wheel : ' we've got the heels of them ; and if they overhaul us I'll be ' The words were hardly out of the man's mouth when the wind dropped, and if the tide had not been running strong we should have had no steering-way.

This was like to prove fatal to our enterprise, for, though the enemy could no more sail without wind than ourselves, they had sweeps and small boats, and as we were only a handful, and all the brig's ammunition was under hatches, we could offer no effective resistance. Two boats, filled with soldiers, were already pulling off from the fort. How I prayed for a wind ! And it came, but, as ill luck would have it, from the wrong quarter. As taking the brig out of the river was now out of the question, I resolved to do the next best thing, — run her ashore. So, after throwing overboard all her guns except those in the hatches, we put the ship about and steered straight for the nearest land ; but before we could reach it Le Bonnet Rouge grounded on a sand-bank with a shock that made her shiver from stem to stern ; the main-mast snapped like a stick, and, as the top hamper came down with a run, the Frenchmen below, thinking their last hour was come, set up a yell that might have been heard a mile off.

I ordered the brig's launch to be lowered, but she was hardly loosed from the tackles when one of the luggers and half a dozen boats came alongside ; at the same time the brig's crew swarmed out of the port-holes, and we were attacked by a force that outnumbered us ten to one. After a hot fight of five minutes, during which time as many of my men were killed and wounded, we were overpowered and compelled to surrender. All of us who were not hors de combat were taken to Havre-de-Grace and lodged in the town prison. Captain Wharton, getting wind of what had happened, sent in a cartel (forwarding at the same time my clothes and some money) with a proposal to exchange me for a French lieutenant whom he had captured a few days previously ; but the authorities of the port, having meanwhile communicated with the Directory and received orders to send me to Paris, refused.

They had taken it into their heads that we were acting in concert with the royalists, and that the cutting out of Le Bonnet Rouge was to have been the signal for a general rising. In no other way could they explain the temerity of twenty men in a long-boat attacking a heavily armed brig, anchored under the guns of a fort, and within pistol-shot of half a dozen gunboats and armed luggers. I was taken before the port captain and a juge de paix and closely questioned as to the designs of the royalists and my part in the supposed conspiracy. But, as I knew nothing of the designs in question, and the conspiracy was purely imaginary, they naturally got but little out of me. A few days afterwards I was sent to Paris in a post-chaise, under so strong an escort as to render escape out of the question.

Two gendarmes with cocked hats and half-cocked pistols sat opposite me all the way, and two fully-armed dragoons rode alongside. But it was by no means an unpleasant journey. Being regarded as a prisoner of importance, I fared well and was treated with great respect. I made friends with my companions, who were very good fellows, and saw more of la belle France than I had ever seen before. 1!

Chapter II The Abbaye

On my arrival at Paris I was taken to the Abbaye, an ancient building, now, I believe, no more. After breakfasting with the governor and his daughter, the former of whom was very polite and the latter very pretty, I was shown into the common room, a room, as I afterwards learned, of terrible memories, for here, in the September massacres, scores of men and women were slaughtered like sheep. During the Reign of Terror it was a vesti bule of death, thronged continually with prisoners on their way to the scaffold, whose places, as fast as the doomed of the day were dragged to the guillotine, were taken by fresh victims. Its aspect was sombre and depressing ; the walls were grimy, the long windows strongly barred, and here and there on the floor could be discerned dark stains as of blood. In this room were five or six men, one of whom came forward to greet me.

He was a man of about my own height, — that is to say, a little over middle height, — but slightly built, and with a pale worn face and dark expressive eyes. ' Good morning, sir,' he said, making a low bow. 'Good morning, sir,' I answered, also making a low bow. 'You are English, — if I may judge by your uniform and your accent.' ' Not exactly. But English is my mother tongue, and I am a subject of King George, and hold a commission in his navy.' ' Scottish or Irish, then ; it comes to the same thing. Pray excuse my seeming inquisitiveness. But, as we are a very small community here, and it is as well to be on friendly terms, I have been deputed to act as master of ceremonies and introduce you to our society. But, first of all, allow me to introduce myself. Before the Revolution I was the Chevalier de Gex, captain in the royal regiment of Languedoc ; now they call me Citizen Gex, and I am a prisoner of the republic' 'And I am Mark Roy, first lieutenant of His Britannic Majesty's ship Sylph, and a prisoner of war.' ' Good !

Now I shall have the honour of intro ducing you to our fellow-captives.' When we were done with our introductions and a few more questions had been asked and answered, the chevalier, putting his arm within mine, asked me in very passable English to take a walk with him. ' Where ? ' I asked. ' Here. This room is exactly forty paces long and thirty paces wide, — not bad for a prison. We can stretch our legs and wag our tongues at the same time. What say you ?' ' I am entirely at your service. How well you speak English ! ' 'Yes; I know English. It would be strange if I did not, seeing that I have lived several years in London ; and if I had been wise I should be there still.' ' You are likely to be a prisoner some time, then ? ' ' My faith, I wish I was ! I am much more likely to lose my head.' ' Lose your head !

I thought the Reign of Terror was over.' ' So it is, except for the class to which I belong. I am a returned emigrant, and returned emigrants receive little mercy.' ' Did you know this before you left London ? ' ' Surely. But I had a purpose, and London is not gay, and teaching young ladies and gentlemen the French language at a guinea a quarter is neither lucrative nor amusing.' ' Better than having your head sliced off, though.' 'Well, I am not so very sure. To be moneyless ici bas is almost as bad as being headless, and I was often very moneyless in that sacri London. It was to replenish my purse that I put my head into the lion's mouth. You are an officer and a gentle man, Mr. Roy ? ' This observation, or question, d propos of nothing, sounding mighty like an impertinence, made me stare. ' I am certainly an officer, and, I hope, also a gentleman,' I answered, coldly. ' Pardon me, I pray you,' said the chevalier, earnestly. ' It was an unnecessary question, — almost impertinent, indeed.

English officers always are gentlemen: the one implies the other. And your face is enough. I can read faces, and in yours I read high courage, honour, and sincerity. You are just the man to lead a boarding-party or stand by a friend to the death.' This time I merely bowed. I did not like these extravagant compliments ; and when a man begins by buttering you up he generally ends by asking a favour. 'You are surprised that I, an utter stranger, should address you thus,' continued De Gex, after a short pause. ' But necessity has no law. I stand in sore need of a friend, and among the men to whom you were just now introduced there is none that I dare trust. At least one of them — that smiling rascal with the slightly-hooked nose — is a mouton, a police spy, and the others are nobodies. You will under stand why I need a friend when I tell you that I am under sentence of death.' ' Under sentence of death !

Is it then so bad as that ? I thought you only feared ' ' Feared ! Do I look as if I were afraid ? ' asked the chevalier, haughtily. ' I beg your pardon. I should have said appre hended. At the same time, though I have faced death pretty often and may have to do so again, I frankly confess that if I were going to be beheaded I should be afraid.' ' Well, I do not like it. But it would ill become a De Gex not to meet his fate with sang-froid, and I would rather perish a thousand times than give these canaille the satisfaction of thinking they had made me afraid. The worst of it is that I know not when I am to die. I may be roused from my sleep before to-morrow's dawn and told that my last hour is come, or they may let me live a month. But you are wondering why I tell you this. It is not merely to enlist your sympathy : it is something much more practical.

I told you that I had been in London. I was there with my mother and sister, and though we all worked — when we could find anything to do — we found life so hard that I resolved to return to France and make an effort to recover a treasure which belonged to my family. ' I must tell you that at the outbreak of the Revolution the regiment to which I belonged joined the Rebels. As I could not turn my sword against the king, I left the army, and, escaping from Paris by the skin of my teeth, went to my ancestral home, — the chateau de Gex, in the romantic Jura country, which the flood of sedition and treason had not yet reached. My father had always dwelt among his people, and so confident was he in their loyalty that, although the peasants in other parts of the province were burning down the chateaux and murdering the seigneurs, he felt sure that no harm would befall him or his.

I did not agree with him ; I knew that sooner or later our place would be attacked like the others ; and I prevailed on him to send my mother and my sister to Geneva, where, as I thought, they would be safe. But my father refused to budge. He was resolved to stay at Gex and defend his property to the last; and, albeit the result was disastrous, I think he was right. If French gentle men, instead of deserting their posts at the first alarm, had stayed at home and done their duty, the Revolution, though it might not have been averted, would have been shorn of half its terrors. The canaille were left to themselves, and the republic they set up has become one of the vilest tyrannies upon earth. 'After a while we heard that a band of miscreants from Lyons were marching northward, stirring up the peasants to insurrection and murdering and plundering in the name of liberty.

Still my father did not believe that they would trouble us, and it was only when they were in the next commune that he allowed me to prepare for the worst. I did all I could, — furbished up our arms, got in supplies of food and ammunition, barricaded doors and windows and organised a small garrison, consisting of the gamekeepers and three or four old servants whose loyalty was beyond doubt. 'The old chateau, though strongly built, was, of course, quite incapable of withstanding artillery, but, to a force armed only with muskets and pitchforks it could offer a stout resistance. ' My father was not rich in money, but he possessed an exceptionally rich collection of gold and silver plate, old coins, and antique gems, which he had been gathering the greater part of his life, and several almost priceless paintings.

These he and I placed at dead of night in a hiding-place the whereabouts of which was known only to him and me. ' The next day we were beset by the Lyons mob, reinforced by several hundred peasants, among whom were many of our neighbours and tenants. ' The last thing they expected was resistance. All the other seigneurs had either left their houses to take care of themselves, or yielded at the first summons ; and when we answered their demand to surrender with a volley of musketry the scoundrels scattered like chaff before the wind. But, quickly rallying, they returned to the charge and opened a regular siege. A great deal of gunpowder was burnt, and, though little impression was made on the chateau, we were kept continually on the alert and forced to expend our ammunition at a rate that rendered our defeat a mere question of time, and a very short time.

And we had nothing to hope from the authorities ; they were against us ; and the number of our assailants increased every hour. ' At the close of the third day we had burnt our last cartridge, save a few which we reserved for the final struggle, and had to consider what we should do next, — whether to await assault and die fighting, or make a sortie and try to escape. 'We decided for the sortie, and took our measures accordingly. ' The Jacobins kept an indifferent watch, and at dead of night, when most of them were sleeping, we stole unperceived from the house, and but for one of those accidents which so often mar the best-laid plans we should have got safely through the investing lines. As we passed the last bivouac fires a barking dog roused the sleepers, and we had to run for our lives.

My father was shot dead by my side, and of the thirteen who formed our party only three succeeded in getting away. All the others were either slain in the fight or killed in cold blood on the following morning. ' Once in the mountains, we three were safe from pursuit, and I eventually reached Geneva, and joined my mother and sister. ' From Geneva, where (as it was becoming a hot bed of sedition) we did not consider ourselves safe, we travelled to London by way of Germany and Holland. 'And then began another struggle for life. Our resources — my mother's jewellery and the rest — were soon exhausted, and we had to keep the wolf from the door as best we could. I gave lessons in French, my sister in painting, my mother made lace ; but, as we knew little English and had neither influence nor friends, pupils and customers were hard to find.

More than once we were on the verge of starvation ; and in the end, as I have already mentioned, I resolved to return to Gex and try to recover the hidden treasure. ' A compatriot lent me money for the journey, which I accomplished by way of Switzerland. I found the chateau unoccupied and dismantled ; and if an old servant to whom I made myself known had not betrayed me I should have succeeded. ' I need not go into details. I was arrested, sent to Paris, and ten days ago sentenced to death as a returned emigrant. ' You see now why I require a trustworthy friend. My sister and mother are eating the bitter bread of exile, — when they can get it, — yet there is property at Gex, rightly ours, a small portion of which would render them independent for life. But I cannot help them : my days, my very hours, are numbered.

Will you undertake the enterprise in which I have sailed, — the saving of the treasure ? ' ' You forget that I am a prisoner like yourself. Moreover ' ' A prisoner of war, sure sooner or later to be exchanged. But hear my proposal. I do not ask you to do this merely for the sake of two women that you never saw and for whom you cannot care. The collection at Gex is worth, at the very least, fifty thousand pounds sterling, and would find ready purchasers in London. Half this sum will make my mother and sister more than happy. The other half I offer to you as a compensation for your risk and and trouble ; and if you succeed you will richly deserve it. It may also weigh somewhat with you that by agreeing to my proposal you will lift a heavy load from the mind of a doomed man, and confer a great favour on two forlorn women, who, I can promise you, will not be ungrateful.'

Chapter III

A HAPPY THOUGHT TRULY a tempting offer. Twenty-five thousand pounds, the gratitude of two noble ladies, and the sense of satisfaction that comes of doing a good action ; and all I had to do for it was the recovery of a treasure the whereabouts of which were well known and would be imparted to me. It seemed almost too good to be possible ; but there were several little difficulties in the way which the chevalier had seemingly not taken into account. ' What I can do to oblige the ladies and yourself I will,' was my answer; 'but you forget that I, also, am a prisoner.' 'You will be exchanged.' ' When it pleases the Directory ; and that may not be for a long time. And, though I were exchanged, I should not like to abandon a career which I prefer to any other, and in which I hope to gain distinction, even for twenty-five thousand pounds.' ' You could get leave.' ' No, my ship is in commission, and, as she is one of the smartest frigates in the service, will remain so as long as the war lasts.

Besides, I should lose my chance of promotion, to say nothing of the chance of being arrested and shot as a spy' ' The war will not last.' ' You think so ? ' ' Yes, the royalist feeling is gaining ground daily, and I have reason to believe that General Bonaparte will play the part of Monk and bring back the king.' ' In that case your mother and sister will come back with him and claim their own.' ' Unfortunately, there is nothing for them to claim. The chateau and estates were confiscated by the National Convention, and are now the property of various occupying owners, who would perish rather than give up possession. My mother's right to the treasure would be contested, and she would end by getting nothing, even though she had the wherewithal to fight a protracted law-suit. No, it can be recovered only through stratagem and address, and by a man of energy and resource like yourself.' ' You are pleased to be complimentary ; but never mind that,' I said, after a moment's thought. ' To the point.

Apart from any advantage to myself, I should be really glad to help Madame de Gex and her daughter to their own ; and I promise you that so soon as the war is over, or sooner if opportunity should offer, I will make the attempt ; and the first time I am in England I will see these ladies.' ' That is all I ask or can expect,' exclaimed the chevalier, grasping my hand, 'and I thank you with all my heart. I will draw a little sketch of the chateau, and show you where the treasure is con cealed. I must also give you a letter to my mother, in which I shall set forth our agreement, so expressed, however, that only you and herself will understand its purport. Perhaps I had better do this to-day: I may not be here to-morrow.' I could not help shuddering. I was beginning to like the man ; he had a winning way with him ; and it made me feel bad to think that within twenty-four hours he might have to lay his head on the block. ' I am sure you will be here to-morrow ; and I don't believe this shameful sentence will be carried out.

It would be sheer murder.' ' My dear sir, the Directory don't stop at murder, and to returned emigrants they show no mercy. I have abandoned hope.' ' You have done a very bad thing. I would not abandon hope though I were on my way to the scaffold. Why shouldn't we try to escape ? ' ' Escape ! How ? ' ' I don't know yet. I have not seen my room. But men have got out of stronger places than this, and what others can do we can do.' ' It is impossible : the windows are barred, and the prison well guarded, both within and without.' 'All the same I mean to try. I made up my mind to escape within five minutes of my capture ; I have been on the lookout for an opportunity ever since, and I know that it will come.' ' Very likely ; but I fear that it will not come soon enough to save my life. We cannot escape by a coup de main.

We need time, patience, opportunity, and this day may be my last. I can think of only one possibility which offers a gleam of hope, and that is so remote as not to be worth thinking about, — the immediate overthrow of the Directory by General Bonaparte.' ' You think General Bonaparte would revoke your sentence?' ' I do. They say he is opposed to the execution of returned emigrants ; and Madame Bonaparte must be a royalist at heart. She comes of a noble family, and as her first husband, Viscount Beauharnais, was guillotined, she cannot have much love for the Revolution.' ' By Jove, it is come ! ' I exclaimed, excitedly. ' How was it I did not think of it before ? ' ' What is come ? ' asked De Gex, looking as if he thought I had suddenly gone mad. ' A stroke of luck ; a chance of recovering my liberty and saving your life.