Part 25 (2/2)
For Albion still is Ocean-Queen, and though her sons be few, They challenge the world with a dauntless mien, and the flag of Billy Blue.
4
”Then pledge me your English palm, my lad; Keep the knuckles for Sir Frenchman; No slave can you be till you change your dad, And no son of yours a henchman.
The fight is to come; and we will not brag, Nor expect whatever we sigh for, But stand as the rock that bears the flag Our duty is to die for.
CHORUS
For Englishmen confront serene whatever them betideth; And England shall be Ocean's Queen as long as the world abideth.”
What with the drum and the fifes of one of the regiments now at Stonnington, and the mighty ba.s.s of some sea-captains vehement in chorus, these rough and rolling lines were enough to frighten a thousand Frenchmen, while proving the vigour of British nerve, and fort.i.tude both of heart and ear. When people have done a thing well, they know it, and applaud one another to include themselves; and even the ladies, who were meant to be unseen, forgot that and waved their handkerchiefs. Then up and spoke Blyth Scudamore, in the spirit of the moment; and all that he said was good and true, well-balanced and well-condensed, like himself.
His quiet melodious voice went further than the Lord-Lieutenant's, because it was new to the air of noise, and that fickle element loves novelty. All was silence while he spoke, and when he ceased--great uproar.
”That lad will do,” said the Marquis to his supporter on the right hand; ”I was just like him at that age myself. Let me draw this cork--it is the bottle of the evening. None but my own fellows understand a cork, and they seem to have got away somewhere. What the doose are they about--why, halloa, Darling! What's the meaning of all this, at such a time?”
”Well, my lord, you must judge for yourself,” said the Admiral, who had made his way quietly from the bottom of the table. ”We know that false alarms are plentiful. But this looks like business, from the paper it is written on; and I know that old Dudgeon is as solid as myself. Vickers the Coast-guard brought it in, from an officer whose horse was blown, who had orders to get somehow to Stonnington.”
”Is Vickers a knave, or a fool who is likely to be made the victim of a very low joke? There are hundreds of jealous scoundrels eager to spoil every patriotic gathering. Ah, this looks rather serious, though, if you can vouch for the paper.”
”I can vouch for the paper, my lord, and for Vickers; but not for Dudgeon's signature. Of that I have no knowledge--though it looks right enough, so far as I know. Shall I read it aloud, and let officers who are not under my command judge for themselves, as I shall judge for those I have the honour to command?”
The Lord-Lieutenant, with his cork just squeaking in the neck of the bottle, nodded; and the Admiral, with officers crowding round, read aloud as follows, part being in type, and part in ma.n.u.script:
”Commander of Coast-defence at Hythe, to Vice-Admiral Darling, Springhaven.
”French fleet standing in, must have slipped Cornwallis. Do all you can.
Not a moment to lose.
(Signed) ”BELLAMY DUDGEON.”
”Well, it may be true, or it may be a lie,” said the Marquis, pouring carefully; ”my opinion is the latter; but I have nothing to do with it officially, according to the new arrangements. Every gentleman must judge for himself. And I mean to abide by my own judgment, which strongly recommends me to finish this bottle.”
”Probably you are right enough; and in your place perhaps I should do the same,” the Admiral answered, quietly; ”but be the alarm either true or false, I am bound to act otherwise. All Naval Officers present will be good enough to follow me, and prepare to rejoin if ordered. We shall very soon know from the signal-point, unless fog has set in suddenly, whether we are bound to beat a general alarm.”
All the sons of the sea arose quietly, and were despatched with brief orders to the right and left, to communicate with their signal stations, while Stubbard hurried back to his battery.
”What cold blood they do display!” whispered the Frenchman, who had returned with the author of the plot to watch the issue from a point of vantage. ”My faith, they march slowly for their native land! Not less than six bottles of great French wine did I antic.i.p.ate to steal through the window, while they fell out precipitous. But there sits a man big enough to leave me nothing--not even a remainder of my own body. Soul of St. Denis, can it be that they question the word of a gentleman?”
”Not they!” replied Carne, who was vexed, however; ”they are taking things easily, according to the custom of the nation. But two good things we have done, friend Charron; we have learned their proceedings, and we have spoiled their feasting.”
”But not at all; they are all coming back to enjoy it all the more!”
cried the Frenchman. ”Oh that I were an Englishman, to get such a dinner, and to be so loyal to it!”
CHAPTER x.x.xVI
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