Part 17 (1/2)

”They're all alike! Never mind whether they're French, or Dons, or blackamoors, there's a tender place in most women's hearts, unless they're downright bad, and then stand clear of them, I say, for they're worse than us men.”

The next time Mammy Otello appeared, Mr Collinson placed a gold piece in her hand.

”Here, madame,” he said; ”I beg that you will accept this as a mark of how sensible we are of your kindness; and I beg to a.s.sure you, that, if you can give us better accommodation, we will gladly pay for it.”

Mammy Otello's countenance beamed, her mouth grew considerably wider, and her eyes sparkled, partly at the sight of the money, and partly at the lieutenant's polite speech. Putting the coin into her pocket, she hastened away. In a short time she returned.

”Our family is a small one,” she said; ”and as the authorities here do not object, my good man and I have arranged to give you two rooms in our house, while you shall take your meals in our public room.”

Mr Collinson's great difficulty was to find paper and pen to write a suitable reply to Mademoiselle Mouret. His own pocket-book had been destroyed. Not a particle of paper could he find in the place, not even the fly-leaf of a book. The other two officers had no paper of any sort. He was able, therefore, only to return a verbal answer to the young lady.

”I told you so,” said Bill, when these satisfactory arrangements had been made, ”that things would improve with us, and so they have.”

”Yes; but we've not had yellow Jack among us yet; and depend upon it he will be coming before long,” answered old Grim.

The good fortune of the Lillys, as the other prisoners called Mr Collinson and his followers, rather excited their jealousy. It tended, however, but little to raise his spirits, and he began to fear that he should never again see his friends.

”Cheer up, sir,” said Bill, who had const.i.tuted himself his special attendant, ”things have mended, and they will mend still more. It's a dark day when the sun does not s.h.i.+ne out; and depend upon it, though the clouds seem pretty heavy just now, the sun will come out before long.”

One day there was an unusual commotion in the village. The negroes were running about and talking to each other, and the white people especially wore anxious countenances. Soon afterwards, drums were heard, and a regiment of militia marched by. For some time, the prisoners could not ascertain what was taking place, though it was evident that something of importance was about to occur. The few regulars in the neighbourhood were seen hurriedly to march away.

Mr Collinson and the other two officers were talking together.

”Hark!” said the former; ”that's the sound of a heavy gun!”

Others followed. Eagerly they listened. Some thought that they were fired at sea, others on sh.o.r.e. At length the excitement of the people, who had also heard the firing, greatly increased, and they confessed that an English force had come off the island, and that the English troops had landed that morning.

”I wish we could manage to get to the top of some hill to see what is going forward,” exclaimed Jack Windy. ”Bill, what do you say? We could get away from these fellows now.”

”If Mr Collinson wishes it, I am ready enough to go,” answered Bill.

”I am afraid he would say no, if we were to ask him,” said Jack. ”I would give anything to find out who is winning the day.”

However, the nearest hills were some way off, and, even if they had got to the top of them, they could not at all tell that they would be able to see what was taking place. The sound of the firing increased, and it became very certain that a fierce engagement was going on. The people about them, however, knew no more than they did, so they could gain no information.

At length a body of men was seen coming over a pa.s.s in the distance.

They were watched anxiously. Who could they be--English or French? On they came, increasing their speed. As they drew nearer, it was evident that they were black troops--the same regiment, indeed, which had pa.s.sed through the village in the morning. It seemed, from the way they marched, or rather ran, that they thought an enemy was behind them.

They bore among them several wounded men. Not till they had hurried through the village did they halt.

At first, no one would say what had happened. The hopes of the English prisoners, however, began to rise, and soon the news spread through the village that a fierce battle had been fought, and that the English had been victorious. At length a French officer was seen coming along the road, who stopped for a few minutes to give his horse some water. Mr Collinson approached him.

”I am one of the English officers who have been some time prisoners in the island,” he said, addressing him in French.