Part 22 (1/2)

”I met her, _mon ami_,” he wrote, ”entering the gallery of audience at Versailles where I was in attendance, and she looked, although pale, for she wears no paint like the other _grandes dames_--I know not why, since his Christian Majesty expects it----”

”She wore enough when I saw her last!” St. Georges muttered.

”--most beautiful. _Mon Dieu!_ what eyes, what a figure! I knew her only from seeing her pa.s.s in to audience before, while as for me she had never deigned so much as a glance. Yet now, _figurez vous, mon ami_, she spoke to me while waiting for the others to pa.s.s before her.

'I have heard,' she said, speaking very low, 'that you are Monsieur Boussac.' I answered that that was my name. Then, after a glance around to see that no eyes were upon us, she went on: 'You did a service once to an unhappy gentleman--a _chevau-leger_--now dead?'

What she was going to say further I know not, since I interrupted her so by the slight start I gave that she paused in her intention, whatever it may have been, raised her eyes to mine and regarded me fixedly. Then she approached her face nearer to mine and whispered: 'Why do you start? He _is_ dead--is he not?' _Mon ami_, what could I reply? She is the sister, by marriage, of your foe; if I told her you lived, who knows what evil I might work? Therefore, I answered briefly, 'Madame, the _galere_ L'Idole was sunk, and he was in it.'

Still she regarded me, however--_mon Dieu!_ it seemed as though her eyes would tear the secret from out of my brains. Then--for now the throng was moving on and she had to go with it--she whispered again: 'If--if by any hazard--he was not sunk with the galley--if he still lives, there is news for him that would make him happy.' Then she pa.s.sed on with the others, and so out by the main gallery, and I have not seen her since.”

There was more in the letter, but at that time St. Georges read no further. Once this news would have stirred every fibre in him, for once he had believed that Aurelie de Roquemaure was his friend--was on his side! He had long ceased, however, to do so; had, instead, come to believe that she and her mother were as inimical to him as their cowardly brother. And long months of meditation had brought him to the belief also that the marquise's scorn against the man who had attacked him and Boussac, and endeavoured to slay the child, was simulated; that they regarded his and Dorine's existence with as much hatred as did De Roquemaure himself. And now, now he felt sure that she knew he was alive and was only eager to discover if he was anywhere near them--near enough to work vengeance on them. As for the news which would ”make him happy!”--well, any scheming intriguer might endeavour to hoodwink so simple a soldier as Boussac with such a tale as that!

He was only too thankful Boussac had had sufficient discretion not to betray his existence to her. To have done that would be to have put her and De Roquemaure on their guard against that return to France which should yet be made, against that revenge which should yet be taken.

He opened Sir George's letter now, quietly and without excitement, for he had grown used to occasional communications at long intervals from that gallant sailor, telling him that at present it was not in his power to be of service to him; but as he hastily ran his eye over the lines he uttered an exclamation of delight. They ran:

”Namesake, if you are still of the mind you were, the time has come. There is a big muster at St. Helens, for Tourville puts to sea to invade us. A place shall be found for you, though maybe not in my s.h.i.+p. Hurry, hurry, hurry!”

CHAPTER XXI.

MAY, 1692.

None riding along the Portsmouth road that warm April night could doubt that a great crisis was at hand. Certainly St. Georges did not do so as couriers and messengers galloped past him toward London calling out the news to all who cared to hear it. As he mounted Kingston Vale two men, hastily jumping on their steeds outside ”The Baldfaced Stag,” cried that they must rouse the queen even, though she be a-bed,[7] for the Frenchman was at sea with an enormous fleet and had been seen in the morning from the coast of Dorset; and all along the route it was the same. Wherever he changed his horse he found couriers setting out for London; whomsoever he pa.s.sed on the road gave him the same news. At Ripley they told him the French had landed under the command of Bellefonds and King James--but these were rustics drinking in a taproom--at Guildford the news was contradicted, but the certainty of the landing taking place shortly was much believed in.

Then, at G.o.dalming, where by now the day had come, he pa.s.sed a regiment marching as fast as might be toward the coast, and the officer in command told him that no landing had yet been effected; at Petersfield he heard the same; at Portsmouth laughter and derision, scorn and contempt were hurled at all who dared even to suppose that a French fleet would put a French army ash.o.r.e. For here, in every inn and tavern, were men who had fought in a score of naval engagements, and who were going out now to fight again. And, as he stood upon the Hard, waiting for a boat to take him off, he observed the vast fleet of sixty-three s.h.i.+ps under Russell's command lying at anchor off the island, and saw from the maintop-gallant-mast head of the Britannia (flags.h.i.+p) the admiral's flag flying. Also on the main shrouds he saw another flag, showing that a council of war was already being held.

There, too, were visible the ensigns of Rooke, Sir Cloudesley Shovell, Sir John Ashley, Sir Ralph Delaval, and Rear Admiral Carter, and as the n.o.ble spectacle met his view his heart beat fast within him. The country that had adopted him was about to help him revenge his wrongs on the country that had sent him forth to stripes and beatings and ignominy.

[Footnote 7: William was fighting on the Continent, and, as usual, being defeated.]

The sh.o.r.e boat made its way through countless others--some filled with officers and their baggage going off to the s.h.i.+ps, some with sailors half drunk, who would, nevertheless, fight to the death when once they boarded the Frenchmen; some with provisions for the fleet; and some with other volunteers like himself, and with, in several cases, girls going off to say farewell to their sweethearts, or with mothers and wives. From most of these boats there rose the babel of scores of different songs and ballads, all telling how when French sailors met English their doom was sealed. Yet at this time, and for about another month, the French held the supremacy of the sea. After that month was over the supremacy was gone forever!

From the Britannia there came away, as St. Georges's boat approached the lines, several barges bearing the admirals and captains who had attended the council of war, and among them St. Georges saw that of Admiral Rooke, who, as he saluted him, made signs for the other boat to follow to his s.h.i.+p.

”Now,” said Rooke, after he had greeted St. Georges and complimented him upon his prompt.i.tude in hastening down to the fleet, and also on his improved appearance--for the two years he had pa.s.sed in London had done much to restore his original good looks, and, with the exception that there rested always upon his face a melancholy expression, none would have guessed the sufferings he had once endured--”now let me understand. Therefore, speak definitely and frankly. You have thrown in your lot forever with England.”

”Forever,” St. Georges replied.

”Without fear of change, eh?” the admiral said. ”Remember--recall before we sail to-night--all you are doing. If you fight on our side now, there will be--henceforth--no tie between you and France. That dukedom of which you told me once is gone forever, no matter how clearly you may find your t.i.tle to it. Louis will never forgive the work we mean to do. If you are English to-day--for the next week, the next month--you are English for always.”

”I have come down here,” St. Georges replied, his voice firm, his words spoken slowly, so that Rooke knew that henceforth his resolution would never be shaken, ”to fight on England's side against France.

There will be no wavering! If I fall, I fall an Englishman; if I survive, I am an Englishman for the rest of my life. I renounce my father's people, whomsoever that father may have been, provided he was a Frenchman: I acknowledge only my mother's. Short of one thing--my endeavour to regain my child.”

”How is that to be accomplished? If you survive this which we are about to undertake, your life will be forfeited in France.”

”It is forfeited already. Remember, sir, I am still, in the eyes of the law of France, a galley slave. That alone is death, or worse than death. In the future when I go, as I intend to go if I live, upon another quest for her I have lost, I shall be in no worse case. Only, then, it will be the halter and not the galleys. So best!”

”Be it so,” the admiral replied. ”Henceforth you belong to us. Now, this is what I can do for you. Listen. I find there is a place for you here on this very s.h.i.+p. You know something of seamans.h.i.+p from your bitter experiences; as a soldier, also, you understand discipline. The master's mate of this s.h.i.+p was drowned a week ago; you can try the post if you please. And when the campaign is over, it may be that I can find you a better one.”