The Wanton Princess

He remained in his cabin, rather than go up on deck, for a very good reason. In Fort de France there were hundreds of people who had known him as His Excellency Mr. Roger Brook; so to have gone ashore would have been fatal. As a reason for not doing so he had decided to sham illness as long as they were anchored off the town, and in preparation for this deception he had given out twenty-four hours earlier that he had a slight fever which, he feared, heralded an attack of malaria. The ship's chief doctor had been to see him, given him some quinine pills, which it had recently been discovered were a good remedy for the disease and. without showing the reluctance Roger felt, he had allowed himself to be bled. His brother officers were too elated at the prospect of getting ashore to give much thought to him; and, having taken lo his bunk with a number of books, he had reconciled himself to remaining there until the squadron sailed for Dominica. But at least he was able to relieve his self-inflicted captivity by enjoying meals of newly-killed poultry, fresh fish and tropical fruits.

Admiral Villaret-Joycuse, who commanded in Martinique, proved most helpful in sending men to assist in making the repairs necessary in Missiessy's ships and revictualling them; so they were made fit to sail again in a little over a week.

But, Roger learned from the Brigadier who shared his cabin, Missiessy was by no means so helpful to Villaret-Joyeuse. The latter was much concerned about a small island called Diamond Rock, which lay a few miles to the southwest of Martinique. When, in accordance with the treaty of Amiens, the British had returned Martinique to the French, a party of British subjects had retired to the Rock with their possessions and a number of small ships. During the peace the French had not interfered with them and they had suc­ceeded in supporting themselves. When war was again dec­lared they had promptly sent for help to Dominica, troops and cannon had been sent to garrison die island and, ever .-.ince, it had proved a thorn in the side of French shipping approaching Fort de France. Villaret-Joyeuse had attempted but failed to take this stronghold, and now he appealed to Missiessy to capture it for him. But Missiessy refused to delay his own mission, and set sail for Dominica.

The northern tip of Martinique lay only twenty-five miles from the southern tip of Dominica, and Roseau, the capital of the latter, some forty-five from Fort de France. The wind being fairly favourable the passage was made in a little under two days and, soon after dawn, the French squadron appeared off Roseau.

Roger, who meanwhile had declared himself recovered, knew that a great part of the island, dominated by a lofty extinct volcano, Mornc Diablotin, was covered with dense jungle. In spite of that, had he been commanding the expedi­tion he would have landed his troops on the eastern shore and, even had it taken a fortnight, had them cut their way through the jungle to assault the capital from the rear. As the garrison of such a place was unlikely to consist of more than a single battalion, and the French had twelve thousand men at their disposal, by adopting such a strategy they could not have failed to take it; and on the island there were no other towns of importance, so the surrender of Roseau would have completed the operation.

After landing his troops, Missiessy could too, have sailed his squadron round to the west coast and, when they made their assault, have assisted them in a swift capture of the place by bombarding the fort and town. But the Admiral, confident that the broadsides of his ships would swiftly cause the British flag to be hauled down, elected to rely on a frontal assault.

That the garrison had been taken by surprise there could be no doubt as, but for the firing of a single alarm gun, nearly a quarter of an hour elapsed before the fort began to reply to its bombardment by the French. But once the British gunners got into action their fire soon began to tell. Not only were they better trained and reloaded their pieces more swiftly, but they had the advantage always enjoyed by shore batteries engaging ships. Their cannons were on a firm base, whereas those in the ships were in constant motion owing to the swell of the sea. In consequence, the shooting of the British was much more accurate. Soon the French squadron was taking heavy punishment. Cannon balls smashed great holes in the sides of the ships, ploughed through the soldiers massed on their decks and brought down spars and masts.

Roger could not escape the obligation to stand on the poop of the flag-ship near the Admiral and his staff. As the battle raged the palms of his hands became damp and he felt goose pimples on his skin from fear that at any moment a cannon ball might cut him in half. Then, to his great relief, soon after ten o'clock, it became so obvious to Missiessy that he was getting by far the worse of the engagement that he had a signal hoisted breaking off the action.

A quarter of an hour later the squadron was out of range of the fort and heading up the coast. In a quiet bay some miles north of Roseau the ships dropped anchor and lay there for two days while the dead were consigned to the sea and the damage that had been done to the ships was, as far as possible, repaired.

On the day following the assault Missiessy called his Cap­tains aboard the flag-ship for a Council of War, at which Roger and other senior Army officers were present. The general opinion was that now the garrison at Roseau had been alerted and shown itself capable of putting up such a stout resistance there could be no hope of taking the island. It was then decided to sail north and see if they would meet with better fortune at Montserrat, Nevis and St. Kitts.

Had the French succeeded in taking Dominica Roger would then have been faced with the problem of getting from there to the exit of the Windward Passage where 'Enterprise' had been lost; which meant a voyage of twelve hundred miles across the Caribbean west of the are of islands that enclosed that sea, and he had already planned how to set about it.

Now he had to think again, but he soon decided what to do. As he was only a passenger and not under Missiessy's orders he went to the Admiral after the Council of War, and said, 'Since there is to be no further attempt to take Dominica, sir, it is pointless for me to remain in the West Indies and the Emperor will expect mc to return to France as soon as possible. The speediest way for mc to do so would be to get a ship from Guadeloupe, so I should be grateful if you would have mc put ashore at Pointe-a-Pitre.'

Guadeloupe was the next island northwards in the chain from Dominica and the squadron had to pass it on its way to Montserrat, so.Roger's request presented no difficulty. Two days later he said good-bye to his companions on the terrible Atlantic crossing and was landed at Pointe-a-Pitre.

There Roger had no fear of being recognized as Mr. Brook, as Guadeloupe was the only French-owned island in the Caribbean that had never been taken by the British. The Governor made him welcome as one of the Emperor's A.D.C.s and. eager to hear all about Napoleon's Imperial Court, said that he must be his guest at the Residency until he could get a ship. Roger thanked him and. now that Missiessy was out of the way, enquired, not for one to take him back to France, but one bound for San Domingo.

On account of his health he was not expected back in France until the early summer; so now he would sav that he had employed his time by visiting several French islands in order to be able to report upon conditions in them.

If, haunted as he was by the nagging fear that Georgina had been sold into a brothel, it was unlikely that she would have been taken so far from the place where she had been captured as Guadeloupe. Nevertheless, during Roper's «'av of six days on the island, on the excuse of amusing himself after a long voyage, he visited all the haunts of vice in Pointe-a-Pitre, and paid the 'Madams' handsomely to produce all their girls for his inspection, having said that he was searching for one girl in particular whom he had known on a previous visit to the West Indies.

The majority of the girls in the less expensive houses were Caribs or of mixed blood; but in the better ones more than half of them were French with here and there Spanish, Dutch and English trollops. Sonic of them had previously served in houses in other islands and these, having stood them wine, Roger closely questioned; but none of them could recall having known a woman at all resembling Roger's description of Georgina.

On March 10th he went aboard the ship that was to take him on the eleven hundred mile run north-west across the Caribbean. The winds proved fairly favourable and for day after day, now brown as a berry, he lay on deck shaded by a sail from the blazing sun, reading or idly watching the flying fish skim the blue water. It was April 2nd when they docked at Port-au-Prince, and there he paid only a formal call on the Governor, courteously refusing his offer of hospitality with the explanation that he meant to spend only long enough in the capital to hire a small sea-going craft in which he intended to sail up the coast.

This left him free to explore the vice haunts of the city; but after three days he had met with no success in his quest for news of Georgina. Meanwhile he had chartered a ketch owned by a grizzle-haired quadroon named Charbon. who knew those waters well. The crew were mulattos; one of them called Pepe Pcpe being a half-caste Spaniard who could act as an interpreter in Cuba. On the 5th he sailed across the southern end of the Windward passage for Santiago dc Cuba, arriving there on the 10th.

As allies of the French, the Spaniards made no difficulties for him; and for the next three days, with Pepe Pepe as his companion, he continued his search, visiting a score of brothels, but with no more success than in Port-au-Prince. On the 13th he sailed again, this time up the Windward Passage and round the north-eastern end of Cuba to Baracoa. This was the nearest port to the place where 'Enterprise' had gone down and, again with Pepe Pepe's help, he spent forty-eight hours visiting every vice spot in the town, until he had satisfied himself that Georgina had not been taken there.

On the 18th he left Cuba and recrosscd the Windward Passage to Port dc Paix on the northern tip of San Domingo. There he spent another two days, by now sick of the sight of near-nude women and the stench of their cheap perfume. Still he failed to pick up any trail, but he remained convinced that Georgina was alive and was determined not to give up until he had found her; so he sailed along the north coast to the French stronghold of Cap Haitien. Yet another two days' search proved unavailing.

He had by now explored the stews in all the most likely ports to which Georgina might have been taken. There remained only Port Royal outside Kingston in Jamaica. It was more distant from the scene of her disappearance than the others but there, down by the palisades there was a whole town of houses of ill fame that was notorious throughout the Caribbean, and if she had become the victim of an English buccaneer it was in Port Royal that he would probably have sold her.

If Roger landed in Jamaica he could become Mr. Brook, but his crew, although half-castes, were French subjects; so for fear of capture it would be necessary to bribe them heavily before they would agree to put him ashore in some deserted bay. Moreover Kingston was four hundred miles distant from Cap Haitien, whereas the place where the 'Enter­prise' had gone down was only some hundred or so miles off and in the opposite direction. As there had always been the possibility that Georgina was still marooned on a desert island Roger intended, should he fail to trace her in any of the ports, to search the area for her. To go south to Kingston and return would take anything from a fortnight to three weeks; so he decided to save for the time being the money with which he would have had to bribe his crew, explore the islands first then, if need be, go down to Jamaica as a last resort.

Accordingly they sailed from Cap Haitien on April 24th and set a north-west course, which would carry them about half way between the north-eastern tip of Cuba and the many shoals and sandbanks to the south-west of Great Inagua.

The only information Roger had to go on was Mr. Small's statement that 'Enterprise' had been attacked when a day's run outside the Windward Passage and, depending on wind and weather, that might have taken the ship anything from twenty to a hundred miles or more beyond the point of Cuba; so the area to be searched was a considerable one.

On the 27th they sighted the first group of islands. During the next three days the ketch dropped anchor in the shallows off each in turn, and Roger had himself rowed ashore in the dinghy to explore them. Two of the largest were inhabited, but only by a few families of miserable-looking Carib Indians who contrived to eke out a bare existence on fish and coco­nuts and lived in palm leaf huts. Scared out of their wits at the sight of Roger they ran off and hid in the undergrowth; but he made no attempt to lure them out as, not knowing their language, he could not have questioned them.

During the past three weeks Roger had been favoured with good weather, only occasionally meeting with a wind strong enough to make the sea uncomfortably choppy; but soon after the ketch left the group the sky became overcast, the wind dropped and the atmosphere became ominously still. Realizing that a hurricane was blowing up, they hastily got out the oars and pulled with all their strength to get back to the nearest island. Fortunately they reached it near a creek up which they were able to pole the ketch a few hundred yards. By then the sky was black with great drops of rain spattering down. A few minutes later it was descending in torrents. Lightning flashed in great jagged streaks and thunder boomed like the discharge of whole broadsides of guns. The down­pour lasted for two hours, to be succeeded by a terrible wind that it seemed would tear the clothes from their bodies and bent a nearby group of palm trees so far over that their fronds at times brushed the sand. The sea had been churned into huge waves that rushed up the creek and caused the ketch to bounce wildly up and down, then beached her high and dry. By evening the worst of the hurricane was over, but they had to remain there for another three days before the weather was sufficiently settled for them to relaunch the ketch and set sail again.

In the nine days that followed they visited a score or more of other islands, among them several on which there were wild pigs, and one of these, Roger felt sure, after finding the remains of a camp, must be that on which Jenny and Mr. Small's party had been marooned from March to June in the preceding year.

Then, on the morning of May 12th they sighted an island about two miles long with a shelving beach which ran up to higher ground on which there was dense vegetation. As they approached it recognition dawned in Roger's mind. Suddenly he was positive that it was the island to which in his vision he had seen Georgina swimming. The airs were light and with maddening slowness the ketch edged in towards the coast. Trembling with impatience, when they entered shallow water he cried:

'I'll not use the dinghy. Beach her! Run her ashore!'

Captain Charbon looked at him in astonishment but obeyed the order. Jumping from the bow Roger plunged waist deep into the water and waded the last twenty feet to dry sand. Looking swiftly about him he saw the entrance to a shallow valley some two hundred yards to his right. At a run he set off towards it. The valley had a small stream trickling through it and curved inland, the banks growing steeper until on one side he was hastening along beneath a fifteen-foot high cliff. After he had covered a quarter of a mile the little canyon widened into a clearing, in which there were two rough palm-leaf huts leaning crookedly against the cliff. As he stumbled towards the larger of the two he pulled up short and gave a horrified gasp. Sprawled in front of the rickety door lay a bundle of clothes. Inside them was a skeleton.

From the well-cut breeches, the rapier still clutched in the hand of bones and the fair hair that still covered the grinning skull, Roger realized instantly that it must be Lord Rockhurst. It was evident that he had been dead for a consider­able time and that the ants had eaten every shred of flesh from his bones.

Sweating with fear Roger entered the rude hut. It contained two couches of leaves, a roughly made table and stools but was otherwise empty. Turning, he lurched towards the smaller hut, pulled back the doorway made of palm fronds and looked inside. The light there was dim but sufficient for him to see a couch of leaves on which lay another skeleton. It was much shorter than the other and clad only in a pair of sailcloth shorts, but from the skull there rose a mop of dead-black hair.

With a sob, Roger threw himself down beside it. He felt that his heart was breaking, for he had come to the end of his quest and, too late, found his beloved Georgina.

26

The Fate of England Hangs ...

Roger was still crouching there in stricken silence when, half an hour later. Captain Charbon and two of his mulatto crew came upon him. On previous occasions he had often spent four or five hours on his own exploring islands while the seamen hunted for shell fish along the shore; but his excited behaviour that morning had given the ketch captain the idea that he might suddenly have become the victim of sunstroke. Knowing that Roger had been searching the islands for castaways, Charbon on seeing the two skeletons at once grasped the tragedy that had befallen his employer and en­deavoured to comfort him.

But Roger was beyond all comfort and his mind so bemused by shock that he could only shake his head in dumb despair. After a while he allowed himself to be led away, back to the ketch. There Charbon made him swallow several mouthsful of liquid from a small grimy bottle. It contained a potent brew of herbs used by the Negroes in San Domingo to dull pain and, having been given such a large dose, ten minutes later Roger lapsed into unconsciousness.

When he roused the sun was setting. Memory of his terrible discovery that morning returned to him and he burst into tears. Again he refused to be comforted by Charbon and Pepc Pepe. Silently he made to climb out of the boat, but they gently restrained him and told him it was pointless to go ashore as they had buried the two skeletons that morning. Then they persuaded him to take another draught of the narcotic, which caused him to sleep dreamlessly through the night.

Next morning he had his grief sufficiently under control to speak of it and said he intended to go back to the clearing to sec the graves. Charbon went with him and helped him to make two wooden crosses. As Roger had often been present at burials at sea he knew the burial service almost by heart and repeated over the graves all he could remember of it.

Only afterwards, as they knelt to pray, he suddenly remembered that Georgina had left him her hair. As he had seen it the day before it had been straight instead of curly and only about eight inches in length but, marooned there as she had been for many months, he had realized at once that she would have had no means of keeping it in curlers and must have cut off her long lovelocks because they would have bothered her in the intense heat. He had half a mind to disinter the skeleton and plait her hair into an armband that he would always wear; but he had no need of any such material thing to remember her by and, having said the burial service over the grave, felt that it would now be near-sacrilege to disturb it.

Before leaving the clearing they again looked round the two huts, finding in them a few things that had evidently been washed ashore from the wreck of 'Enterprise'. They also discovered in a little niche behind the head of one of the beds of leaves two tortoiseshell combs and a string of fine pearls that Roger knew of old to be Georgina's.

Being anxious to get his employer away from the scene of the tragedy as soon as possible, Charbon had given his men orders to get the ketch ready for sea and, as soon as he and Roger were aboard, they set sail. Without asking for instruc­tions the Captain set a course back to his home port of Port-au-Prince and they arrived there six days later.

During thosc days Roger had remained in a lethargy of despair, but on landing he roused himself to thank his crew for all they had done for him, then he took Charbon to a bank, cashed one of his letters of credit, and paid him off with a handsome bonus. At the hostelry in which he had stayed for a few nights six weeks earlier he took a room and there endeavoured to concentrate on what he should do with himself.

It was now May 19th and in the midday hours the heat was grilling. There was no point in his staying longer in the West Indies so obviously the sooner he could get back to Europe the better. To meet Napoleon's wishes he should have sailed over a month before, but he could excuse the lateness of his return by saying that, after carrying out unofficial inspections in Martinique, Guadeloupe and San Domingo, he had decided to find out the state of the Allies' warships in the Cuban ports, but had been blown off course, wrecked and marooned for some weeks on a desert island.

On the other hand, did he really wish to continue in Napoleon's service? The knowledge that Georgina was definitely dead seemed to have killed all ambition in him; he wondered now if it would not be better for him to carry out his old plan of settling down in England. Colonel Thursby and Aunt Marsham, he knew, would be delighted for him to make his home at Stillwaters. There he could play the role of what Georgina had termed 'a proper man' to bring up her boy; and he would, too, derive much happiness from seeing his own little Susan grow up into a lovely girl. Whatever he might decide, situated as he was, the quickest way for him to get back to Europe was in a French warship.

With this in mind he called next day upon the Governor, who told him that a frigate would be sailing in a week or ten days' time and that he would secure him accommodation in her, then asked him to stay to dinner. Reluctantly, but out of politeness, Roger accepted. At the meal four other naval and military officers were present, and from their conversation he learned what had been happening in the Caribbean during his ten-week search for Georgina.

Missiessy's squadron had alarmed the English by appear­ing off several of their ports and caused them considerable annoyance by capturing merchantmen whose value as prizes was estimated to be £60,000; but the cruise was accounted a failure because he had not succeeded in taking a single one of their islands.

Villeneuve had put to sea from Toulon in March, and orders had been sent to Missiessy to await him in the Indies, then return with him to European waters. But Nelson had headed Villeneuvc off in the Mediterranean so he had had to put back to port. Missiessy had then received an order while at Martinique to return alone via the Canaries. Believing a British fleet to have reached the Caribbean he had been so eager to leave it that he had again refused Villaret-Joyeuse's request to reduce Diamond Rock, made all speed to San Domingo, landed his troops there and set sail for home.

Meanwhile Villeneuve had again left Toulon, fooled Nelson by feinting towards Egypt and passed through the Straits of Gibraltar on April 9th. A fast frigate had been despatched to tell Missiessy to await him, after all, but Missiessy had been in such a hurry to obey the previous order that he was gone before the frigate arrived in the Indies. Villeneuve had made a good passage and arrived at Mar­tinique soon after the frigate. Having captured Diamond Rock he had sailed again, it was believed with the intention of attacking Barbados; but for some days there had been no further news of him.

On May 28th Roger sailed in the frigate Guillaume Ic Conquerant which, with fair winds, should have landed him in Europe early in July; but during the first part of her voyage she suffered a severe check. When six days out she was struck by a hurricane, lost her foremast, sprang a leak and was driven from her north-eastern course hundreds of miles to the south.

Roger had a ghastly time, lying in his narrow cabin sick as a dog and praying that an end might be put to his misery by the ship going down. She survived the tempest, but only because good luck brought her on to the northern coast of

Puerto Rico and she was able to put in to San Juan. Their Spanish allies there proved most helpful and hospitable; but time seemed to have no meaning for them, so it was June 14th before the repairs had been completed and they were able to put to sea again.

From then on they were favoured with good weather and on July 3rd, having spent a day scouting round the island of Madeira to make sure there were no British warships in the vicinity, they put into Funchal to water. They were still loading crates of live poultry, pigs and fresh fruit when Villeneuve's fleet came into view.

As soon as it anchored in the bay, the Captain of Guillaume le Conquirant put off in his gig for the flagship to pay his respects to the Admiral, taking Roger with him. They were invited to stay to dine and after dinner, over some good bottles of old Madeira wine, Villeneuve gave them an account of his voyage to the Indies.

Having left Nelson hunting for him in the Mediterranean, after passing Gibraltar, he had picked up the Spanish squadron from Cadiz but it had proved in such ill condition as to be worse than useless and two of its ships had been lost during the ocean crossing. Frigates had later brought intel­ligence that after leaving the Mediterranean in pursuit Nelson had again been misled and, believing that Villeneuve was making for Ireland, had set a course for the Scillies. But, on learning the truth he had sailed with ten ships-of-the-line to 'save the West Indies', made a surprisingly swift passage and, having picked up two more ships-of-the-line at Barbados, set about scouring the Caribbean for the French.

Intent on obeying the Emperor's orders to clear the British out of the Antilles, Villeneuve had sailed from Martinique early in June with the intention of capturing Barbados. When approaching the island he had captured a convoy of merchantmen and from them learned that he had missed coming into collision with Nelson's fleet only by a few hours. Knowing that the Emperor's prime intention was that the combined fleets should, during the summer, sweep the Channel in order to clear it for the invasion of England, he had cheerfully left Nelson hunting for him in the Caribbean and made all speed to recross the Atlantic.

After two days at Madeira while their reluctant allies, the Portuguese, slowly watered and revictualled the fleet, it sailed north to European waters. Adverse winds made their pro­gress slow but on July 22nd they were off Finisterre in foggy weather. Out of the mist emerged Admiral Calder's squadron. He had only fifteen ships to oppose Villeneuvc's twenty but, nevertheless, gave battle.

Stoically, Roger put the best face possible on having to stand on the poop of Guillaume Le Conquerant and chance his luck whether he survived, while shot ripped through the sails’ crashed through the bulwarks and made men utter agonizing screams.

To his relief the engagement proved a very minor battle compared to that of the Nile, which had raged with the most appalling carnage from sundown all through the night and, eventually, led to his having to go overboard from Admiral Brueys' flagship to save himself from being blown up in her. Here the lines of battle soon became confused and ship engaged ship then drifted away in the fog until each became visible to another enemy.

When night came Admiral Calder drew off so, on that account, it could be considered a French victory; but before the battle was over two of the ships under Villeneuve's colleague, the Spanish Admiral Gravina, struck their flags, whereas none of the British surrendered, and later it was learned that more than twice the number of French and Spanish seamen had been killed or wounded so, on points, the British had had the better of it

On the 23rd Villeneuve put into Vigo to land his wounded and repair his ships. When they arrived in the port Roger took stock of his situation. Northern Spain was still a long way from England. If he remained with Villeneuve's fleet, as soon as it was fit to put to sea again it would head up Channel and he might easily become involved in another sea battle. Whereas if he had himself put ashore he could ride in safety to Bordeaux and, with less risk, cross from there.

It so happened that before he had even made up his mind his decision was taken for him. Villeneuve sent for him to come aboard the flagship and, after some general conversa­tion, said:

'Colonel Brcuc, I must, as soon as possible, send particu­lars to the Emperor of our action off Finisterre, and I know that you are anxious to rejoin him as swiftly as you can. I wish to inform him, too, that as soon as my fleet is shipshape I intend to move up to Ferrol. Are you willing to take a despatch to His Majesty?'

Roger at once agreed, returned to Guillaume le Conquerant to collect his baggage then picked up the despatch and went ashore. The following morning he set out on his long ride along the northern coast of Spain and round the Bay of Biscay to Bordeaux.

During those days of hacking along the dusty roads and sleeping in bug-ridden inns at Lugo, Oviedo, Santander, Bilbao, San Sebastian and several lesser places, he had ample time to think again about his future, and he decided that, at least for some time to come, he could not settle down at Stillwaters. The picture of Georgina's skeleton was still too clear in his mind; and he felt sure that in the lovely house where they had enjoyed such happiness together it would constantly haunt him.

As an alternative he could have occupied Thatched House Lodge. The two years he had spent there had been among the most enjoyable of his life. During them he had undertaken no dangerous missions and, Richmond being within easy dis­tance of London, he and Amanda had thrown themselves with youthful enthusiasm into the social whirl. But Amanda, too, was dead, he had no inclination at all to dance or chatter among crowds of idle people and to live there alone with only old Dan to talk to must soon become terribly monoto­nous.

Since the battle off Finisterre other thoughts too had begun to stir his sluggish mind. It had brought home to him that a war was still raging upon which the fate of his country depended. When, after his abortive peace mission, he had broken with Mr. Pitt, it had not seemed to him remotely possible that Napoleon would ever be in a position to invade England, and even a year ago his prospects of doing so had been extremely slender. But during the past six months the results of his shipbuilding programme had begun to show and this, together with the Spanish alliance, had made the picture very different.

When Roger had left Paris in December it was estimated that Britain had seventy-five ships of the line against the Allies' sixty-four; but twelve of the British ships were known to be on far distant stations, so in Atlantic and home waters the Allies had actually achieved a superiority of one. Admittedly, ship for ship the British, being better equipped and their crews far better trained, were superior to the French and greatly superior to the Spanish. But should Napoleon's strategy prove successful and the main fleet under Nelson be kept out of the way for a few weeks, sheer weight of numbers would enable the Allies to drive the British squadrons from the Channel. The more Roger thought about this the more convinced he became that, not only did the best hope of escaping from his terrible depression lie in again actively occupying his mind, but that it was his definite duty to do his utmost to learn the latest French plans and, if possible, get information to England which would prevent the Allied fleets concentrating into another Armada. In consequence, instead of seeking out the smuggler Jubert at Bordeaux, he rode on through Poitiers, Tours and Orleans to Paris. His journey from Vigo had taken him sixteen days and he reached the French capital on August 8th.

Napoleon's blind spot was the hazards met with at sea. He expected fleets and frigates to move from place to place with the same precision as armies and despatch riders, taking no account of winds or weather, and that if a passage proved a bad one supplies sometimes ran so low that squadrons were compelled to delay further by going hundreds of miles off course to pick up food and water. So when Roger reported to him at St. Cloud he met with a rough reception and had to remain silent for several minutes while the Emperor upbraided him for not having returned to France by May at the latest.

When the tirade subsided, Roger, without going into details, told his story: that he had been shipwrecked and for some while marooned on a desert island, then having given his master particulars of the battle of Finisterre, he went on to mollify him by saying that he had brought him a confiden­tial report upon conditions in not only the fleet, but also in Martinique, Guadeloupe and the principal ports of San Domingo.

Taking the long document that Roger had written in the evenings in the hostelries at which he had stayed during his journey through France, the Emperor threw it on his desk and said:

'Well, well! That may prove useful and enable me to stir these lazy devils up a little, particularly my Admirals. Why I should be cursed with Naval Commanders who show such lack of initiative. I cannot think. That fool Gantheaume had the chance to break out of Brest weeks ago but never took it. And here is Villeneuve, instead of sailing up Channel while Nelson is out of the way, by now skulking like a sick dog in Ferrol. Do you know it? 'Tis the worst port in Spain, with a river entrance so narrow that a squadron rarely gets in or out of it without several of the ships becoming stuck on the mud banks and days being wasted getting them off. He should have gone to Cadiz, from where he could sally forth swiftly at any time. And I sent him orders that should he meet with serious opposition in the Channel that was what he was to do. I sent them, yes, on July 16th.'

'That is above three weeks ago. Sire,' Roger remarked soothingly. 'So he should have had them by now.'

'Yes, and I suppose he will now sit in Cadiz until I order him out. Had he had the stomach of a man he would by this time have driven the English off their beat outside Brest; then we would have had Ganthcaume's fleet joined to his at sea and the Channel would be ours. But I have hopes yet that we will be able to launch the invasion this month. I would proceed to the coast now for a final inspection had I not so many things requiring my presence at the moment in Paris. Did you know that I was recently absent in Italy for three months?'

'I heard so on my way north, Sire; and am happy to congratulate Your Majesty upon now being King as well as Emperor, for I am told that you crowned yourself King of Italy in Milan Cathedral.'

'Yes. You should have been there, Breuc. It was a splendid spectacle. But while I was away a hundred matters got out of hand here; so I left young Beauharnais as my Viceroy and hurried back. We did the journey from Milan to Fontainebleau in eighty-five hours. Things here now are in better trim but I'll need another week or so before I can leave for the coast. You will, of course, come with me. In the meantime see Decres at the Ministry of Marine. Give him an account of the battle off Finisterre, but of nothing else. I do not wish him to know that your voyage to the Indies had any other reason than to restore your health.'

The following morning Roger made his report to the Min­ister of Marine. When he had done Decres said, 'I am inclined to agree with the Emperor that Villeneuvc was wrong in not continuing up the Channel even if he had to engage Admiral Caldcr again. Although his superiority in ships was negligible, by detaching a fast frigate and sending it across the Bay of Biscay he could have brought the Rochefort squadron out to his assistance, which would have given him sufficient odds to win the battle. But His Majesty is far from being right in most of his naval appreciations. For example, it is his own fault that Gantheaumc's fleet is not now at sea.'

'How so. Your Excellency?' Roger enquired.

The Minister made an unhappy grimace, 'His orders to Gantheaume were that he was not to break out of Brest should it entail a battle. When Admiral Nelson was known to be on his way to the West Indies, the blockading fleet at Brest became so reduced in numbers that Ganthcaumc could easily have defeated it. He asked permission to do so, but the

Emperor would not agree. Since then the English have been reinforced, so the opportunity was lost.'

'Before Nelson can return from the Indies there may come another,' Roger hazarded.

Decres shrugged 'There may. If the Emperor orders Villeneuve up from Cadiz he could raise the blockade long enough for Gantheaume to break out; then, at last, we'd be masters of the Channel. But for how long? Unfortunately His Majesty refuses to face the fact that ship for ship we are not equal to the English, so basing operations simply on counting hulks leads to false assumptions. I have warned him of this many times but he refuses to listen. And my fear is that, even if we can concentrate a large enough fleet to cover the launching of the invasion, within a week or so Nelson will arrive on the scene and, even with one-third fewer ships than we have at our disposal, inflict a crushing defeat on us. Then our Army in England would be cut off.'

That, loo, was Roger's belief, and he left the unhappy Decres with the thought that of all posts the one he would least like to occupy was that of Napoleon's Minister of Marine.

Two days later he breakfasted with his old friend Tal­leyrand and found the Foreign Minister also in a far from optimistic frame of mind. After describing the Italian journey, on which he had accompanied the Emperor, he said:

'But I fear he may have to pay a price for his antics as cock-of-the-walk while in Italy. The Lombards were by no means averse to having their Republic converted into a Monarchy, but they would naturally have preferred to have as their ruler one of their own people rather than Josephine's boy Eugene, and they resent intensely the hordes of French officials that remain there battening upon them. The same applies to the territories of Piombino and Lucca which he has given to his sisters. Not content with that he has made the entire Ligurian Republic a part of France.

'Mr. Pitt, meanwhile, remains our deadly enemy. Soon after you sailed for the Indies, the Emperor sent another letter to King George III proposing a cessation of hostilities; but the British Cabinet refused even to discuss the matter, and 'tis clear that they have strong hopes that Napoleon's ambitions may yet bring about his downfall.

'For many months past Mr. Pitt has been working tirelessly to bring about a third Coalition against us, and the Emperor has played into his hands. Our unpopularity in Italy has reached a point where the Italians would welcome the Austrians back if only they could get rid of us, and that has encouraged Vienna to contemplate another attempt to regain her old possessions in the peninsula. The Czar, too, displayed intense resentment at our incorporating the Ligurian Republic into France; so both Austria and Russia are, I am convinced, already secretly concerting measures with England. So I'd willingly wager that we'll have another Continental war on our hands before the autumn is out.'

'What view does the Emperor take of this new threat?" Roger enquired.

Talleyrand shrugged, 'Cher ami, he has become so confident of himself that he docs not give a button. And should his invasion of England succeed he'll have no need to. Without the great subsidies that England always pays to keep her allies' armies in the field, they would not even start a war or, if they had, would promptly eat humble pie and sue for peace.’

'And what think you of his prospects of launching the invasion?'

'If he attempts it at all it should be this summer, otherwise that great Army of the Coast which has been training for so long will become stale. Therefore I think he will risk it provided he can achieve even temporary superiority in the Channel. To do that the fleets of Villeneuve and Gantheaumc must unite. Were they defeated separately, or even one of them sufficiently crippled as to be useless for a year or more, I think it certain that the invasion project would have to be shelved for good.'

'After all these years of preparation and trumpet-blowing that would mean a great loss of face for Napoleon.'

'Not necessarily,' Talleyrand smiled, 'He is as slippery as an eel when it comes to wriggling out of awkward situations. Measures would be taken to ensure it being known in every corner of France that he and the Army had been ready and eager to go; but that his first care was the lives of his men, and that his miserable Navy having refused to promise them a safe passage to the English beaches was his reason for cancelling the operation.'

Roger smiled back, 'And when does Your Excellency think we are likely to hear if it is to be or not to be?'

'Within a day or two of his carrying out his final inspec­tion of the Army of the Coast. I and several other Ministers are to accompany him, and a Grand Council is to be held at which he will make known his decision.'

A week later the huge cavalcade set out for Boulogne. There on August 22nd the greatest military spectacle of that, and perhaps, any age, took place. The Emperor, followed by a glittering array of Marshals, Generals and Staff officers reviewed the Grande Armee. With intervals of only a few yards between formations it stretched across the downs for nine miles.

By then it was known among Napoleon's intimate circle that Austria had accepted from England a subsidy of five and a half millions and that Russia and Sweden were actively preparing to renew the war against France; but the Emperor remained quite unperturbed. The only measure he took was to send Duroc to the ever-irresolute Frederick William, to offer Hanover to Prussia as the price of an alliance. Austria was not ready for war and many weeks must elapse before she could put an army in the field. The Army of the Rhine, with the aid of France's ally Bavaria, was capable of staving off any premature attacks. The Russian armies were so far away that they could not become a serious menace for several months. Meanwhile great events might alter the whole European scene.

The morning after the Grand Council the Emperor sent for Roger, gave him a despatch and said, 'You will take this to Villeneuve and hand it to him personally. I have chosen you rather than an ordinary courier because this is in a sense a mission. You already know the Admiral and as one of my personal staff he will know you to be in my confidence. You are to inform him of the latest developments in Europe and discuss them, and the orders contained in this des­patch, freely with him. My orders are that he is to put to sea, come up Channel, raise the blockade of Brest so as to free Gantheaumc and make possible the invasion. Now, this is the delicate point. Should he again show reluctance to risk his ships you are to hint that I may deprive him of his command and give it to Admiral Rosily. You could say that you chanced to overhear a conversation between myself and Decres. That should spur this mulish sailor into being of some use to me. Do you understand?'

'Perfectly, Sire,' Roger bowed. 'But Your Majesty will appreciate that to execute your order I'll have to ride near the whole length of France and Spain, so you can hardly expect Villeneuve to appear in the Channel much before mid-October.'

'Umph,' Napoleon gave a grunt. 'I know it. But that will be lime enough. The weather is often excellent in the autumn. Unless the Admirals prove even more spineless than they have so far led me to suppose, we'll cat our Christmas dinners in what's left of London. Go now, and ride hard.'

Much perplexed as to what course to pursue, Roger set out on his long journey. More than ever now he regretted having quarrelled with Mr. Pitt before the Prime Minister's resig­nation for, had he not done so, the Foreign Office would have kept him informed during Addington's administration of the changes that occurred from time to time in the secret post offices maintained in France for conveying intelligence to England. Such pillar boxes rarely lasted more than a year or two before the static agents who ran them were detected by counter-espionage or decided that it was no longer safe to run them at the same address; so those that Roger had used in the old days of the Revolution and the Directory must have long since been closed down. In the previous year he had had to get his information in person, and must do so again now.

How and when were the questions. If Jubert was still smuggling cargoes of wine across from Bordeaux, that was the answer to the first. The second was a much knottier problem. Normally, taking into consideration the bad posting service in Spain, horses going lame and other causes of delay, he could not be expected to accomplish his thirteen-hundred-mile journey in much under twenty-six days. But if he rode all-out he could probably lessen that time by ten days. That should be sufficient for him to break his journey at Bordeaux, cross to England, recross to France and still reach Cadiz by about September 18th.

But should any mischance befall him during the crossing everything would go awry. Villeneuvc would not receive his orders, so remain in port and the crux of the matter was to get him out of it, then ensure that he was intercepted and defeated.

Roger thought again of Talleyrand's remark that, if only one of France's two major fleets were crippled sufficiently to render it useless for a year or so, that would put an end to the invasion project. And he had no doubt that Talleyrand was right. It also entered his mind how fortunate it was that the shrewd Foreign Minister was evidently not aware that Napoleon had chosen for this mission le Colonel Breuc for, knowing him now to be still loyal to England, and therefore not to be trusted where operations against that country were concerned, Talleyrand would certainly have produced some plausible reason why one of the Emperor's other A.D.C.s should be charged with conveying his orders to Villeneuvc.

After considerable cogitation Roger decided that he dared not risk a crossing from Bordeaux before delivering his des­patch in Cadiz. Villcneuve would not put to sea immediately. Several days must elapse before he had watered and revictuallcd to capacity for a long cruise and got his ships into the best possible state to engage, as he would foresee he might have to, in a great naval battle. And Cadiz was only some sixty miles from Gibraltar.

Since Spain was at war with England the Rock was again besieged, so it might not be easy to reach, but Roger felt fairly confident of his ability to do so one way or another within a few days of leaving Cadiz; and from Gibraltar, while Villeneuve was still in port fitting out his fleet for the great endeavour, a fast frigate could be despatched to England, to ensure that a fleet of sufficient strength would be waiting to give battle to him by the time he entered the Channel.

Alternatively, Roger decided, should it prove too difficult and dangerous to get through the Spanish lines to Gilbraltar, he could ride back at full speed to Bordeaux, cross with Jubert or some other smuggler to Devon and by the new semaphore telegraph send his information to London, still with enough margin of time for Villeneuve to be intercepted.

Having settled this question in his mind, Roger decided that there was nothing to be gained by exhausting himself in riding all-out to Cadiz. The longer Villwneuve's sailing was delayed the worse the weather would become; which meant that even if he succeeded in evading a battle with a British fleet and enabled Gantheaume's to emerge from Brest, the worse would be the prospects of the invasion being successful.

In consequence, Roger rode south through Rouen, Lc Mans, Tours, Poitiers, Angouleme, Bordeaux, Bayonne, Vitoria, Burgos, Madrid, Cordoba and Seville by easy stages, averaging no more than fifty miles or so a day, and arriving at the little town of Jerez de la Frontera on September 19th.

Jerez was fewer than twenty miles from the coast but over thirty from Cadiz, because the road to the port ran first in a semi-circle round a wide bay then along a ten-mile spit of low-lying ground to the city, which lay at its northern extremity. It was this peninsula, running parallel to the coast and almost enclosing a great area of protected water, that made Cadiz the finest natural harbour in Europe.

Early on the morning of the 20th Roger rode out of Jerez; but when he came to the crossroads near the coast, instead of taking the road that curved round towards Cadiz, he con­tinued on for another fifty miles until, in the afternoon, he reached Algeciras. Further thought had decided him that, if he could do so without difficulty, it would be better for him to inform the Governor of Gibraltar of his mission before delivering the despatch to Villeneuve, as that should result in the Admiralty receiving news of French intentions several days earlier than if he had followed his original plan.

To the east, only a few miles across the bay from Algeciras, the great Rock of Gibraltar towered up clear in the evening light. The shipping lying under the guns of its forts and the houses on the terraced roads could be seen quite distinctly; but that evening Roger learned that to get there was a thing that could not be done without considerable risk and, anyway, not overnight.

The inn at which he had put up was much frequented by Spanish officers. On seeing his French uniform they saluted him with grave courtesy. He spoke a little Spanish and several of them spoke French so he had no difficulty in conversing with them and spent the evening drinking in their company. As an allied officer they freely discussed the progress of the siege with him and, although it had made no headway, it soon emerged that the fortress was so closely invested that it would be a most hazardous proceeding to attempt to get through the Spanish lines.

Next day he rode out round the perimeter encircling the approaches to the Rock, to La Linea and back, and his ride convinced him that he could not get through to it by land. He would have to use some of his gold to bribe a fisherman in some village along the coast to put him ashore on the Rock at night. But that meant a delay of two or three days, and as he had ridden down through France and Spain without hurrying he felt that he could no longer put off delivering his despatch. He reckoned it would be at least a week before Villeneuve was ready to put to sea; so he would have ample time to ensure a frigate's being despatched from Gibraltar before the French fleet sailed.

On the morning of the 23rd he left Algeciras and by afternoon was riding along the great natural breakwater that enclosed the harbour of Cadiz. Proceeding to the port on the inland curve of the promontory he stabled his horse at an inn on the waterfront called the 'Inca Queen'. He then hired a boat with a steersman and four oarsmen and had himself rowed towards the flagship. She lay about two miles south of the harbour and as the boat carried him towards her he had ample opportunity to take stock of the Allied fleet lying at anchor in the soft evening light.

His boat was about to pass within about sixty yards of a French frigate and his eye was caught by the bright dress of a young woman leaning out from the high stern gallery. Her hair was dressed high in the Spanish manner, rising to a big tortoiseshell comb from which a lace mantilla fell partially covering her plump breasts. He was at once reminded of Georgina, for the woman's features, colouring and form were very similar to hers. But he had no doubt at all that she was some Spanish trollop that the Captain of the frigate had taken aboard to amuse himself with while the fleet was in harbour.

When his boat drew nearer, the woman suddenly began to wave and shout something at them. Taking it as an exhibition of joie de vivre, Roger waved back, then her cries gradually faded as his boatmen pulled on towards the flagship.

As he mounted the gangway, the officer of the watch observed his rank and had him ceremoniously piped aboard where he was received with every courtesy. But it transpired that Admiral Villeneuve was not on board. He had left that morning for Seville—in which city, associated with the ancient 'Board of the Indies', the Spanish Admiralty had its headquarters—to negotiate for further supplies for his fleet, and he was not expected back in Cadiz for several days.

Rcger accepted a glass of Malaga wine from the senior officer on duty, then said that he must proceed to Seville to deliver personally a despatch to the Admiral. As his boat took him back towards the harbour it again passed fairly close to the frigate in which he had seen the woman who resembled Georgina. She was still leaning over the stern gallery, but twilight had now fallen so her features were less distirct. When they came nearer she gave a shout and waved a sheet of white paper to attract their attention. Roger was in no mood for a waterborne flirtation but he returned her hail. As he did so she quickly rolled the piece of paper into a spill, pushed it into an empty bottle, rammed home the cork and threw the bottle as far as she could towards the passing boat.

Now considerably intrigued, Roger had his steersmen alter course until they were within fifty feet of the stern of the frigate; then he retrieved the floating bottle from the slightly choppy water. As he pulled the cork from the bottle neck and fished out the paper, he expected to find that the decidedly attractive Senorita had sent him a note to say that her lover was ashore and inviting him to come aboard to entertain her.

To his utter amazement he read. 'Roger, do you not recog­nize me? I dared not shout in English for fear of giving you away, but I am Georgina. I am held captive by the Captain of this frigate. For God's sake, rescue me.'

27

Napoleon Triumphant

For a few moments Roger was so overcome by mingled sur­prise and joy that his wits refused to work. Then they snapped back with their usual resilience to an unexpected situation.

Three courses were open to him. He could have the boat rowed under the stern of the frigate and tell Georgina to jump for it. But the stern gallery over which she was leaning was a good twenty feet above the water, so that would mean a nasty drop and a chill wind was blowing. When they hauled her aboard she would be soaked to the skin and might catch her death of cold before he could get her to his inn.

Secondly, she could speak a little Spanish; so he could call up to her in that language that he would return after nightfall bringing with him a line to throw her and a rope ladder that she could then haul up, make fast and descend by to the boat. But while it was evident that the man who held her captive was not with her at the moment it was highly pro­bable that he would be during the night. Not only would he prevent her escaping but, perhaps, grab up his pistols and fire down upon her defenceless would-be rescuer.

The third course was to go boldly on board right away and claim her. And that Roger decided to do.

In his hailing Spanish he called to Georgina, 'I am coming for you, Senorita. Get your things together quickly.' Then he said to the owner of the boat, 'That Senorita is an old friend of mind. She is being held on the ship against her will. Steer along to the gangway.'

As usual with ships in port for some time, instead of a rope ladder slung over the side, a flight of wooden steps had been rigged from her deck down to a platform a few feet above the level of the water. Much amused by this romantic encounter, the grinning sailors brought the boat alongside the platform and Roger jumped on to it.

Taking the wooden steps three at a time he mounted to the quarter deck. As the ship was in port only a skeleton watch was being maintained. Except for two seamen sitting on coils of rope smoking their long pipes at the entrance to the fo'c'sle no one was about, but at the sound of Roger's footsteps a young Lieutenant emerged from the after deck house. Saluting Roger politely he asked his business.

'I am here,' said Roger, 'to see the Scnorita in the Cap­tain's quarters.'

The Lieutenant looked startled and exclaimed, 'I... I fear that is not possible, Monsieur le Colonel. Nobody is allowed to see her without Captain Fournier's permission, and he is ashore.'

'I require nobody's permission,' returned Roger sharply. 'Come! Be good enough to take me to her.'

'But . . . but, monsieur le Colonel! stammered the lieu­tenant. 'I am under orders. The lady is English. She... she is a captive and held incommunicado.'

'Of that I am aware, as also are the authorities who sent mc here.' Roger's blue eyes flashed as he added with a sneer, 'And since when did Frenchmen make war on women?'

The young man reddened. 'Please believe I am in no way responsible. But I have my orders. I cannot disobey them.'

'That I appreciate. However, by making your protest you have done your duty. I will go find her for myself.' Turning on his heel Roger walked briskly towards the entrance under the poop that led to the ship's stern cabin.

Now sweating slightly with apprehension, the Lieutenant hurried after him and cried, "Monsieur le Colonel, will you not wait until Captain Fournier comes aboard? He is due back now, so should be here quite shortly. Wait and discuss this with him, I beg; otherwise I'll find myself in most grievous trouble.'

Ignoring the plea Roger, strode down the passage until he reached a door at the end which obviously gave on to the big stateroom. Seizing the handle of the door he rattled it, but it was locked. The noise he made brought a big, broad-shouldered man out of a nearby galley. A glance at the kit he was wearing led Roger to judge that he was the Captain's steward and he snapped:

'Where is the key to this door? Get it at once.'

The steward gave him a surly look then glanced at the Lieutenant, who quavered, 'Monsieur le Colonel, we have our orders.'

'To hell with your orders! Refuse me the key and I'll kick the door in.' Roger drew back a pace as though about to raise his heavily-booted foot.

'These quarters is private,' said the steward aggressively. 'An' 'tis my job to see as no one enters 'em in Capn's absence.' Then he moved to step in front of Roger.

Drawing himself up, Roger said harshly, 'You know my rank. Observe also my sash. It is that of an A.D.C. to the Emperor. Lay a hand on me or endeavour to prevent mc from entering this stateroom and by God you'll rue it. I'll have you sent to the galleys. Now, give me the key.'

The steward wilted and produced a long key from his jacket pocket. Taking it, Roger snarled at him, 'Get back to your galley.' Then he turned to the Lieutenant. 'I am about to relieve you of your prisoner. Should you make am attempt to stop me I shall report the matter personally tc Monsieur Decres, the Minister of Marine, and see to it that you are court martialled with your Captain for having aided him in an illegal act. You will now return to your quarter­deck.'

Still surly, but cowed, the steward shuffled back into his pantry. The Lieutenant, white to the gills, saluted then turned on his heel. Roger quickly inserted the key in the lock and opened the door. Georgina was standing near one end of a large table which occupied the centre of the big stateroom. She now had on a cloak and hood and was holding a big straw basket into which she had hurriedly crammed her belongings.

As Roger stepped through the doorway into the stateroom, Georgina, her great dark eyes shining with delight, started to run towards him. With a swift gesture he checked her, and put a finger to his lips enjoining silence. Then he bowed and asked:

'Madame, parlez-vous francais?'

She nodded, and he went on in French, 'It has come to the knowledge of the authorities that you are being held here ugainst your will. I have been sent to take you ashore. Permit me to relieve you of your basket.' He was playing this little comedy for the benefit of the steward, who he felt sure was listening behind the half-open galley door. And as he stepped up to Georgina to take the basket, he added in a whisper, "Until we are alone it is better that we should pretend to be strangers.' Then he stood aside for her to precede him from the cabin.

On the quarter deck the Lieutenant was standing, still sweating at the thought of having to face his Captain's wrath; but he made no move to stop them and saluted as they stepped up on to the gangway.

The moment Roger could see over the ship's side he received a most unpleasant shock. His excitement at freeing Georgina had caused him momentarily to forget about the Lieutenant's having told him that Captain Fournier was expected back on board at any time. And there was the Cap­tain just stepping out of his gig on to the platform below.

Quickly handing Georgina back her basket, he put her behind him and started down the steps. At the same moment the Captain glanced up. On seeing Georgina his mouth fell open in surprise. Then his face became black with anger and he bellowed at Roger:

'Who the devil are you? What's the meaning of this?'

Roger smiled at him and replied, 'I should have thought you could sec for yourself. I am about to take this lady ashore.'

'You'll do nothing of the kind.’

'Indeed I shall. And you will attempt to stop me at your peril.’

Fournier was a tall, bronze-faced man of about forty, his good looks now marred by an ugly scowl. He had run up a dozen steps of the gangway and Roger had quietly walked down about the same number; so they were now within a few feet of one another.

'Who are you?' demanded the. Captain. 'By what right are you in my ship?'

'My name is Galahad,' Roger grinned down at him. 'And I am about my normal business of rescuing damsels in distress.'

'Damn your insolence! I'll teach you manners before you are much older. Get back on deck this instant.'

'Manners? Oh come, Captain. Where are yours? Had you any you would not keep a lady waiting, but descend to the platform so that she could pass? '

Infuriated by this baiting. Foumer put his hand to his sword. Roger had been expecting that so was ready for it, but he had no intention of exchanging thrusts, for should either of them seriously wound the other he would have little hope of getting away with Georgia If be got the worst of the encounter that would be that, [f the Captain did it was certain that his men would prevent them from leaving the ship until some, senior officer could be brought on the scene.

Instead he waited another moment until both Fournier's hands were engaged, the right gripping the hilt of the sword and the left grasping the scabbard. Then, grabbing with one hand the rope that ran alongside the gangway he went down one step and, with the other, gave the Captain a terrific box on his right car.

The blow sent Fournier reeling sideways. Roger followed it up with a swift kick that landed on the unfortunate man's right shoulder. His whole weight was thrown upon the rope, it gave outward, his feet slid from the step and he hurtled downward to land with a loud splash in the sea.

The Spaniards in Roger's boat had no love for their French masters and gave vent to loud oles of approval. The French sailors in the gig apparently had little affection for their Captain, as they had difficulty in hiding their grins at his discomfiture while putting off to rescue him before he was swept away by the tide. Georgina held her sides and roared with laughter.

Two minutes later Roger had her in his boat and the Spaniards were pulling lustily for the harbour. Eager as they were to question one another during the trip ashore, Georgina obeyed Roger's injunction to treat him as a stranger; so they could do no more than steal furtive eager glances at one another in the semi-darkness. It was not until they reached harbour and he had paid off the boatman that Roger could ask her:

'How in Heaven's name did you come to be here at Cadiz and in that ship?'

'I came in her from the Indies,' she replied quickly. 'She was one of Admiral Villeneuve's fleet.'

'Well, I'll be damned!' he exclaimed. 'And I was in another; at least from Madeira. To think we sailed in com­pany and did not know it. You must then have been at the battle off Finisterre?'

‘I was, and scared out of my wits.'

'But how came you to be in a French frigate?'

'The ship in which I left Jamaica eighteen months ago was attacked by buccaneers and...'

'I know it. I saw you in a vision and you were nearly drowning.'

She pressed his arm, 'Dearest Roger. It was you then who saved me. Had I not had the sense to free myself of my skirt and petticoats before the boat I was in went down I would certainly have drowned. Even so I was nearly exhausted and the shore still distant. I recall thinking of you. Then new strength seemed to enter into me. I reached the beach of a desert island and was marooned there many months.'

'I know that, too. I went in search of you and found the place.'

'Oh, Roger, Roger. I might have known you would if you believed me to be still alive. But you came too late.'

‘I did not get there till May 12th of this year; but I knew it for certain to be the island you had been on, for I found your pearls and have ever since worn them beneath my shirt.' Suddenly he halted and began to laugh.

Turning her face up to his she said gently, 'I see nothing humorous in that. It does but show that you treasured the memory of me.'

'Nay, not that,' he strove to control his laughter. 'On the island I came upon two skeletons. One, tall and with fair hair still on its skull, I had no doubt was that of my Lord Rockhurst, with whom you travelled out. The other was short and had black hair. I believed it to be you, and was so overcome with grief that my men took me from the place. When I returned I found they had buried both. Had they not done so I'd have taken that black hair, plaited it and would be wearing it now instead of your pearls.'

Georgina then burst out laughing too. 'My dear! My dear! Just to think of you going about Europe for years to come treasuring a hank of hair you believed to be mine when it was really that of a half-caste seaman.' After a moment she went on, 'His name was Jose’ With Rockhurst and myself he was the only survivor from our boat. The poor Skiffingtons and the other men in it were all drowned.'

'But what happened later?' Roger asked quickly. 'How did Rockhurst and Jose come to die and you escape?'

'We had been on the island just on a year,' she replied, 'when the French frigate you found me in anchored off shore to water. A party of sailors from her came upon us. Little Jose had been taken with a fever and was lying in his own hut, so was helpless and must have died shortly after. Seeing me skinless and half-naked the sailors thought mc fair game for a rape. Rockhurst endeavoured to defend me but they were too many for him and he was struck down. Luckily for mc a young officer appeared at that moment and called his men to order. He took me aboard the ship and I told my story to Captain Fournier. The gallant Captain was much taken with me.'

'And then?' Roger prompted her.

Georgina giggled, 'Surely you can guess the rest. Although something of a martinet he is a handsome fellow, and after a few days at sea I made a bargain with him. I agreed to become his mistress if he would take me back to Europe. The frigate lay for some while at Port-au-Prince, then sailed down to Martinique, joined Admiral Villeneuve's fleet and recrossed the ocean.

'After the battle off Finisterre we put in to Vigo. I asked Jules Fournier to put mc ashore and give me sufficient money to journey down to Gibraltar, so that I could get back to England. But he had become quite besotted about me and behaved most ungenerously, declaring it to be his intention to keep me with him indefinitely. There have been occasions since when I could have escaped; but I dared not land penniless in a foreign port; and though I watched him like a hawk he was too clever to give me an opportunity to steal money from him.'

By this time they were approaching the 'Inca Queen', and even while listening to Georgina's story Roger had been giving half his mind to considering what it would be best to do in this most unexpected situation. Drawing Georgina into the shadow of an arch that led into the stable yard of the inn, he said quickly:

'Listen, my sweet. We are not yet out of the wood. Fournier will be coming ashore at any moment to hunt for us. If he finds us you may be certain he will force a duel upon me. I'm a good enough blade to back myself to get the better of him, but duels are tricky things and did he chance to wound me severely that would spell disaster for us both. For mc because I have information of the utmost importance that I must get to England; for you because you would be left stranded here without money or anyone to turn to. That we dare not risk, so we must get out of Cadiz as swiftly as we can.'

'Gibraltar is no great distance from here, is it?' Georgina said.

'Stap me!' Roger exclaimed as an idea suddenly came into his head. 'I have it. To Gibraltar you must go. Though I cannot.'

'But why?' she cried. 'Oh Roger, having found one another again must we part so soon?'

'Alas, beloved, I fear we must. I cannot go there because the place is besieged and the Spaniards would not let me through their lines. But they are chivalrous people and, unlike Napoleon, do not interfere with civilians from enemy countries caught in theirs by a war. You have only to tell some story to the Spanish officers at La Linea. Say that your husband is a merchant on the Rock and that when war was declared you were staying with friends in Madrid; that you have recently heard that he has met with a serious accident and wish to rejoin him. I am confident they will let you through.'

'But, Roger,' Georgina was in tears now. 'Since... since you cannot go to Gibraltar, I've no wish to go. We'll go to some other place. Anywhere as long as I can remain with you.'

'Hush, dear heart, hush,' he pleaded. 'Stop crying, I beg, and listen. In this we must think not of ourselves but of our country. It is of the utmost importance that I get a message to the Governor of Gibraltar as swiftly as possible. And you can take it for mc.'

He then told her of Napoleon's orders to Villeneuve to leave port and join Gantheaume's fleet from Brest which, unless Villeneuve could be intercepted, would make the French masters of the Channel.

Georgina realized at once how vital it was to get the information through and that by taking it to Gibraltar she could get it there perhaps as much as a week earlier than Roger could himself. So she dried her tears and made no further protest about being separated from him again so soon.

While they had been talking in the shadow of the arch several people had passed them, and back in the big yard of the inn a team of horses was being harnessed to a coach while it was loaded up. Glancing in that direction, Roger said:

'Wait here one moment, dearest, while I enquire of an ostler where that coach is bound for. It is most probably going to Seville, as that is the main road into central Spain; but he will be able to tell me the hour at which the one for Algeciras leaves in the morning, then we'll find some small inn at which Fournier is unlikely to enquire for us, and there pass the night.'

Two minutes later he returned to her and said huskily, 'My sweet Georgina, I've bad news for us; but good in that we'll not have to take the risk of Fournier running us to earth during the night and forcing a duel on me that might ruin everything. That vehicle about to start is the overnight dil­igence for Algeciras. And you must take it.'

'Oh, Roger! If I must, come with me.'

'Dearest, I dare not. I have to deliver my despatch to Villeneuve and it is already overdue. Besides, if you were seen in Algeciras with a French officer, since the French are the bitterest enemies of the English the Spaniards might sus­pect that I was an Englishman in a French uniform. It is, too, essential that you should play the part of a woman alone and in great distress on account of her injured husband.'

While he was speaking he had undone his tunic so that he could get at his money belt. From it he took a handful of Spanish gold pieces and gave them to Georgina. As she was stowing them away she said:

'Should the Spanish officers not after all prove as gallant as you expect and refuse to let me through, what am I to do?'

'I should have thought of that.' He paused a moment to consider, then went on. 'As soon as you have gone I shall set out for Jerez and pass what remains of tonight there. You should be across the frontier tomorrow, but we'll allow an extra day, and it is no more than a day's journey up from Algeciras to Jerez. Tomorrow is the 24th. Although it means still further delay in delivering my despatch I'll bide at the best inn in Jerez until the morning of the 27th. Should you not have joined me by then I'll take it as certain that you have got through to Gibraltar. And now, most beloved of all beloveds, you must leave me to get a place in the diligence.'

For a good three minutes they embraced while he kissed her eyes, her neck, her mouth and felt her tears wet on his cheeks; then she tore herself away and walked resolutely to­wards the coach. He remained under the arch until ten minutes later the diligence clattered past him.

Immediately it was out of sight he had his horse saddled, paid the livery and bait fee, and set off for Jerez. Just outside the city he passed the diligence at a canter but he did not give it a glance. He dared not, for fear that his resolution would break down and he would, after all, accompany her to Algeciras.

He reached Jerez soon after one o'clock in the morning, knocked up the inn and went to bed. For a long time he lay awake, his mind filled by the miracle that Georgina was alive and that sometime, somewhere, he would again hold her lovely naked body in his arms. Then he slept soundly until well on in the morning.

When he awoke the events of the previous evening flooded back to him, but he thought they could have been only a vivid dream. Then the strange room brought home to him that they could not have been. He really was in Jerez and Georgina alive and well and on her way to Gibraltar.

For a while he lay there in ecstatic happiness. The years seemed to have fallen from him. When he got up he felt a buoyancy that he had not known since the terrible day when she had betrayed him to the tipstaffs. She had made no mention of that, or that she had forgiven him for having killed John Beefy. But the time they had spent together had been so short—apart from their silent trip from ship to shore in the boat—not much more than twenty minutes. And every moment had been occupied by her telling him how she had got back to Europe, the urgency of their leaving Cadiz before Fournier found them and his giving her the information that she must take to Gibraltar.

Although he had ridden down from Boulogne by easy stages, he had been for thirty-one days almost continuously in the saddle; so the prospect of a few days' rest was an added joy and, after a hearty breakfast, he strolled round the little town.

It was a pleasant place in the centre of the sherry industry. As he was aware, several of the principal shippers were Englishmen; but the chivalrous Spaniards had left them at liberty to continue conducting their businesses, except for the restriction that they were no longer allowed to send cargoes to England. As a French officer Roger naturally avoided con­tact with them, but he met several of the Spanish growers. Members of both the Gonzalez and Domecq families took him round the great bodegas where the wine was stored and entertained him most hospitably.

Nevertheless, during the three days he spent in Jerez for most of the time his mind was on the miracle of Georgina being alive and wondering if she had succeeded in getting to Gibraltar. By the morning of the 27th he felt confident that all was well so, still in the highest spirits, he took horse for Seville.

Late in the afternoon he entered the ancient city and dismounted at the great building that housed the Board of the Indies. To his relief he learned that Villeneuve was still in Seville and, half an hour later, he was received by him at the Casa that the Spaniards had placed at the disposal of the Admiral and his staff.

The evenings were still warm enough to sit out in the sheltered patio of the Casa and there, seated beside a tinkling fountain, they held a long conference, during which Roger learned that Austria had declared war on France some three weeks before and that the Russians and Swedes had soon afterwards proclaimed their intention to join the Third Coali­tion against France. Villeneuve then said that he had not brought his fleet down to Cadiz for fear of further encounters with the English but because the last direct order he had received from the Emperor had enjoined him, should he meet serious opposition when sailing north, to retire into that port. He then spoke of the difficulties he would have to overcome before again putting to sea.

The Spaniards were politeness personified but unbelievably dilatory about carrying out their promises. Supply problems, which in France could be dealt with in a week, in Spain took a month. Admiral Gravina, who commanded the Spanish squadron in Cadiz, was a charming man but his ships were in a wretched condition and several, by French standards, unseaworthy. This made them so cumbersome to handle that they became a drag upon the remainder of the fleet and hampered its manoeuvres.

Another matter that gave Villeneuve grave concern was that both navies had been cooped up in port for so long that many of the Captains had had no opportunity to practise any but the most elementary evolutions. In fact the only one they could be relied on to carry out, without throwing the fleet into disorder, was to form line-of-battle; and that was a terrible disability when going into action against the English, who had been trained at a given signal to change formation with perfect precision.

He then lamented the fact that they were so far from Paris that time did not permit of his going there and attempting to dissuade the Emperor from staking everything on the autumn campaign; and Roger got the impression that, in spite of Napoleon's order, he might still not leave the port, later making the excuse that the Spanish fleet was unfit to sail and that without it he would find himself heavily outnumbered.

In spite of what Talleyrand had said about the Army becoming stale, it was Roger's view, too, that Napoleon would stand a greater chance of success if he waited until the Spring, because the worst-found ships in the Allied fleet would meet with less trouble in better weather. On the other hand, if they sailed in October rough weather would favour the British and, if caught in a bad storm, Villeneuve's fleet might well suffer the same fate as had the Spanish Armada.

It being Roger's object to do everything he could to bring about the destruction of the Allied Fleet, and the Admiral's reactions being much as Napoleon had anticipated, he did not scruple to use the spur he had been given. As tactfully as he could, he spoke to Villeneuve about the conversation he was supposed to have overheard and told him that if his fleet lingered in port until the weather became too bad for it to put to sea it was probable that he would be replaced by Admiral Rosily.

Having thanked him for the warning, the Admiral asked him to remain at the Casa as his guest until his negotiations with the Spaniards were completed; so Roger spent the fol­lowing two days seeing the sights of Seville. He found the huge Cathedral very impressive, but was much more inter­ested in the fascinating collection in one wing of the House of the Indies consisting of maps, gear and weapons used by Columbus and the great Conquistadors.

On the 30th Villeneuve told him that he now hoped to be able to sail from Cadiz in about a fortnight, then gave him a despatch for the Emperor containing detailed information upon the state of the fleet. At midday Roger again reluctantly mounted his horse and started on his long journey north. Anxious now to get back to Paris he covered longer daily stages than he had while coming south and reached Bayonne on October 9th.

Having stabled his horse at a good inn and sent his valise up to a room in it, he walked round to the Cavalry Barracks to gel the latest military news. The officers there made him welcome in their Mess and, to his astonishment, told him that the whole of the Grande Armee had left the coast towards the end of August; but nobody there yet knew if the Emperor had sent it to the Rhine with the intention of invading Austria or down into Italy where it was believed that the Austrians had taken the offensive.

Puzzling over the matter later, it seemed to Roger at first sight a crazy business for Napoleon to have sent him with orders for the Allied Fleet to clear the Channel in preparation for an invasion then, within a few days of having despatched him with them, withdrawn the troops who were to make the invasion should Villeneuve prove successful. But he knew the subtle mind of the Corsican far too well to believe that he had acted on impulse. Napoleon always had an alternative plan for every situation but if he did use it, invariably kept it to himself until the last moment.

That, given a reasonable chance of success, he would have invaded England Roger had no doubt at all. But evidently he had come to the conclusion that he could place no reliance on his Navy and, therefore, was using it only as a factor in a vast deception plan. By setting his Army in motion more than a week before the ill-prepared Austrians had even declared war, he had already stolen a march on them, and it would probably still be several weeks before his enemies learned that the Grande Armee had left the coast. If, before that, Villeneuve put to sea and the fact was reported by watching British frigates it would be assumed that he was about to launch the invasion. Reports of French troop movements towards the Rhine or Italy would be discounted as no more than the despatch of reinforcements. Then, one fine morning, the Austrians in one theatre or another would wake up to find the mightiest army in the world arrayed against them.

That night, before he went to sleep, Roger felt happier about the European situation than he had done for a long time. It was certain now that Mr. Pitt had succeeded in his great undertaking of welding together a Third Coalition against France. In whichever direction the Grande Armee was marching it could not be in two theatres of war at once. So even if the Austrians were defeated between the Rhine and the Danube they might hope to be victorious in Italy; or vice versa. And behind Austria was ranged Sweden and the might of Russia, last, but not least, much against his will Villeneuve was being forced to come out of Cadiz. If he could be intercepted and his fleet destroyed that would put an end for years to come of any fear of England being invaded.

Next day Roger pressed on, covering over a hundred miles, and reached Bordeaux. There nothing more was known than he had learned in Bayonne. Early the following morning he set out for Angouleme. But when he was a little more than half way there, disaster overtook him.

Shortly after he had passed through the little town of Chalais the road ran through a wood and stretches of the highway were covered with long drifts of fallen autumn leaves. Beneath a drift there lay a deep pothole. The off fore hoof of his horse plunged into it and he was flung from the saddle to crash heavily on the same shoulder he had injured in his fall on the night he had had his vision of Georgina drowning.

Half dazed, he stumbled to his feet, to find that his mount had broken a leg. There was nothing to be done but take one of his pistols from a holster and shoot the animal; then, in great pain, walk back to Chalais.

The inn there might have been worse. The local sawbones was called in to set his broken collar bone and the landlady proved to be a kindly body who did her best to make him comfortable. But he was delayed there six days before, having bought another horse, he felt fit enough to continue his journey; and, even then, his injury compelled him to go by easy stages.

It was not until the 18th that he reached Poitiers, where rumour had it that the Grande Armee had crossed the Rhine and that the Emperor was commanding it in person. At Tours reports were conflicting, but at Orleans on the 21st it was said that he had gained a great victory somewhere in Bavaria.

As Roger's shoulder was still paining him it took him two days to cover the last eighty miles to Paris. After a happy reunion with his old friends the Blanchards and an excellent dinner with them in their parlour, he went to bed greatly relieved to think that his seemingly endless ride was over.

First thing next morning he hurried round to the Tuileries to get authentic news of what had been happening. There, to his surprise, he found Duroc; as it was unusual for Napoleon to set off on a campaign without this faithful friend. But Duroc explained that he had only recently returned from his mission to Berlin, which had been only partially successful. The avaricious but cowardly Frederick William had agreed to accept Hanover from France, not as a fee for becoming an ally, but as the price only of maintaining a benevolent neutrality. Duroc then gave Roger such intelligence as was known about the enemy and an account of the great battle that had taken place between the 12th and 17th of the month.

From captured despatches and the reports of spies it had emerged that the Emperor Francis had decided to despatch into Italy his largest army, some ninety thousand strong, under his ablest General, the Archduke Charles; while a smaller one of about thirty thousand, under the Archduke Ferdinand, with the veteran General Mack as his adviser, stood on the defensive to cover Austria; on the assumption that, before it could be attacked, it would be reinforced by a Russian army, also thirty thousand strong, that was advan­cing under Kutusoff.

Meanwhile the Coalition had in preparation two other offensives. In the north, from Swedish Pomerania, a combined Swedish and Russian army was to strike at Hol­land with the object of freeing that country from French domination, and a joint expedition of Russians from Corfu and English from Malta was to land in the south of Italy.

Napoleon had ignored these threats to the extremities of his dominions, left Massena to do the best he could in northern Italy and decided to concentrate the maximum possible strength against Austria. Only skeleton forces had been left in Holland and on the Channel coast. The rest, by swift night marches, undetected by the enemy, had passed the Rhine and penetrated the Black Forest.

Although the movement had begun towards the end of August, in order to mask his intentions the Emperor himself had remained in Paris right up to September 23rd and, to publicise his presence there, had issued a decree that had set all Europe talking—no less than the abolition of the Revolutionary calendar and a reversion to the old Gregorian one.

It appeared that the Austrians, presumably on Mack's advice, had decided to march through Bavaria and take their stand on the line of the river Uler thereby having the great fortress of Ulm, where the Iller flowed into the Danube, as a buttress to their northern flank and some fifty miles south another considerable fortress, Memmingen, to buttress their southern flank.

Totally unaware that a great French army was approach­ing, Mack had advanced from the line of the Iller into the Black Forest, possibly with the idea, if he met no resistance, of invading Alsace. The Emperor, playing for time, had opposed him only with light troops and led him on. Meanwhile, the Corps of Bernadotte, Ney, Soult and Lannes were coming down from the north-west towards the Danube and, on the 6th, the troops of the two last, with the help of Murat's cavalry, captured Donauworth, fifty miles down the river from Ulm.

By the 13th, while the advance guard of the Russian army was only just crossing the river Inn and still a hundred and fifty miles away, the French were already far to the south behind the Austrian lines and Soult had cut off the big garrison in the fortress town of Memmingen. On the same day Ney, by a brilliant dash across the Danube from Elchingen, inflicted a severe defeat on the Austrians outside Ulm. Having encircled both wings of Mack's army, the Emperor had then ordered his whole force to go in for the kill. Ney, the hero of the campaign, had stormed the Michaelsberg, the key position in the Ulm defences, and the Austrians had asked for an armistice.

Having been in Naples when Mack, lent by the Austrians to the Neapolitans, had made a hopeless mess of their cam­paign and lost their country for them to a mere two divisions of French troops, Roger thought the Emperor Francis must be crazy to have entrusted another army to such an aged and incompetent General. But the damage was now done. While displaying for the benefit of Duroc enthusiastic delight at Napoleon's triumph, he could only secretly bemoan the fact that the new war on the Continent had opened so badly for the Coalition.

His next visit was to Decres; for. although he would have taken Villeneuve's despatch direct to the Emperor had he been in Paris, it was obviously a matter for the Minister of Marine. After glancing through the document, Decres said:

'Poor Villeneuve; fortune has been most unkind to him. He is a good and courageous sailor. Through no fault of his, the tools he has been given to work with are only third-rate; but, try as I will, I cannot make the Emperor understand that. And now, unless he left port by the middle of this month, he is finished. Before leaving for the Rhine the Emperor decided to replace him and Admiral Rosily is now on the way south to take over his command.'

Roger nodded, 'Even should he have left port before Rosily reaches Cadiz, I do not envy him. He will be terribly hampered by those almost useless Spanish ships, and you may be sure that the English will fight him tooth and nail as he makes his way up Channel.'

'Mon cher Colonel, you are out of date,' Decres smiled. 'The Emperor deceived the enemy brilliantly by his forced march to the Rhine, but before he left Paris he realized that if Villeneuve reached the Channel at all it would be too late for his fleet to play any useful part in the deception. Fresh orders were sent some time after your departure, that when he left Cadiz he was to re-enter the Mediterranean and use his ships to protect our lines of communication between Marseilles and Genoa, so that we can continue to supply our army in Italy.'

That was another and far worse blow for Roger; but he concealed his dismay and, soon after, took his leave of the Minister.

On the following day, October 25th, a special bulletin was published in Le Moniteur. A full account of the battle of Ulm was given, then the great news that the Austrians had surrendered. On the 20th, at the foot of the great Michaelsberg that Ney, 'the bravest of the brave', had stormed, the Emperor sat his white charger. Behind him were his Marshals and his brilliant staff, and behind them the serried ranks of the Imperial Guard. To either side were four columns of troops each thousands strong, the standard bearers holding aloft their Eagles. From Ulm there filed out a long, sad procession headed by old General Mack. When he had handed over his sword, twenty thousand infantry and three thousand cavalry laid down their arms before their con­querors.

No more was said, but Roger could foresee the sequel. Kutusoff and his thirty thousand Russians could have saved the day if only Mack had had the simple sense to withdraw while there was still time and fall back upon them; but on their own, they could not possibly check the advance of the Grande Armee; so they could only retreat while Napoleon, the way now open to him, entered Vienna in triumph.

Sadly, Roger contemplated the situation. In England the new Coalition, brought about by Mr. Pitt with such tireless labour and a great outpouring of British gold, must have raised high hopes. They had been shattered at the very first encounter. In Vienna Napoleon would impose a peace on Austria that would bring the war in Italy to a close, and he had troops enough to defeat both any Russian advance in Central Europe and from Swedish Pomerania.

Still more in Roger's mind was the fact that he had sent by Georgina misleading information to England. A British fleet might now lie in wait for Villeneuve in the Channel, but he would not appear. If he, or Rosily, left port at all it would be for the Mediterranean; so both his fleet and that of Gantheaume in Brest would remain intact. That meant that when Napoleon had dealt with his enemies on the Continent, he might, after all, next Spring succeed in combining the two fleets, clear the Channel and invade England.

There was nothing more that Roger could do, and his depression was lightened only by the belief that Georgina was alive. Yet, at times, he had worrying misgivings even about that. They had been together for so short a time and all that had occurred that evening in Cadiz now seemed so improb­able. He had since often wished that he had returned there, found his boat's crew and through them verified his belief that he really had brought her off from the frigate. Even at the risk of an encounter with the infuriated Fournier, he felt now that he should have done so; for that in itself would have been proof that the whole episode was not a vivid dream.

During his long journey north he had told himself again and again that had he not seen her in the flesh he would never have relied on her taking his information to Gibraltar but have gone there himself. Yet why had no mention of her betrayal of him and of John Beefy's death passed between them; and why had he not given her back her pearls?

Now that he had completed his mission and had nothing else to think about, these unsubstantial but worrying doubts began to obsess him and, after another day in Paris, he decided that he would have no peace of mind until he settled them. Suddenly, too, it dawned upon him that if as he really felt sure, his encounter with Georgina had not been a dream, only a crossing of the Channel lay between them and a glorious reunion.

His mind made up, he hastened to the Tuileries, saw Duroc again and said to him, 'Old friend, in another week it will be November. As you know, the weakness of my wretched lungs compels me each year to winter in the south of France. In your next despatch to the Emperor please be good enough to inform him that I have taken leave to go thither.'

Duroc readily agreed and later that morning Roger set out for Bordeaux. Now imbued with fresh energy he reached the city on the 28th. To his relief he found the smuggler Jubert still operating. He was not due to sail with another cargo of Bordeaux wine until November 1st but Roger, seized with impatience to be off, paid him handsomely to speed up his loading and, in spite of the weather not seeming very propi­tious, to set sail at midday the next day. But using his gold to overcome Jubert's better judgment was to cost him dear.

When they put to sea it was already choppy and a few hours later when darkness fell, owing to heavy cloud that hid the moon and stars, it became black as pitch. During the night the weather worsened, the little ship rolled and pitched and Roger, lying in one of the only two bunks aft, was very ill. In the cabin it was atrociously stuffy and when morning came he staggered out on deck to get some fresh air. A bitter wind was blowing that sent showers of spray hissing over the side. White horses crested every wave and no other ship was in sight.

For a while he clung to a handrail as the lugger bucked and lurched, striving it seemed, to drag him from his hold. Rain came, at first in drifts that stung his face and forced him to close his eyes. Then the wind eased a little and it began to rain in earnest. It sheeted down so that visibility was reduced to a few feet. Within ten minutes, in spite of the oilskin cape that Jubert had lent him, he was soaked to the skin. The downpour had run off his bare head and down his neck both behind and in front so that his underclothes had become saturated and as he moved the water squelched in his boots. Yet he was loath to take cover in the frowsty cabin, so he continued to hang on there.

The deck was awash with flying spume and the torrents of rain. It had become bitterly cold but the water, pouring from side to side with each roll of the ship, had sloshed so high against the galley that it had penetrated it and put out the stove; so there was no possibility of getting a hot drink, or even lukewarm soup. Roger had a big flask of cognac and, from time to time, swallowed a mouthful. The raw spirit made him gasp but eased the pain in his heaving stomach.

About midday, after what had seemed to Roger endless hours of torment, Jubert, skilfully judging from long practice the lurch' of the vessel, crossed the deck to him and bellowed in his ear:

'You are unlucky for us, Monsieur. The last time I took you across we were caught by the Revenue men and turned back. And now this. I said we'd meet bad weather, but you refused to heed my warning. For all your gold I'll not take you as a passenger again.'

White, shaking, breathless and with his eyes half-closed, Roger could only mutter, 'You could have refused. Grumbling won't help matters now. Go look to your ship and leave me be.'

The smuggler gave a crooked grin, 'It'll be worse yet, and’ since you've no stomach for it, you'd best get back to the cabin.'

As Roger's arms were aching from holding on he knew that the advice was sound, yet he hated to lose face by admitting that he could not stand up to the storm; so he ignored Jubert's advice and remained where he was.

The Captain proved right. During the afternoon the waves became mountain-high so that the lugger seemed to race through the sea as though she were a car on an endless switchback. For minutes on end she soared up one green slope to hit the wave crest then career like a toboggan down into another valley. Lest she be pooped, Jubert was holding the lugger head-on to the storm but, having been up all night, by late in the afternoon he was very tired. As they rushed up a great wave he made a slight miscalculation, so that instead of the bow of the ship cutting through the foaming crest she struck it at a slight angle.

At that moment Roger was holding on with only one hand. In the other he held his flask tilted high, his head thrown back, as he sucked from it the last drops of brandy. The lugger gave a frightful lurch. The tug on his arm tore his fingers from their hold. A second later he was flat on his back.

A wave swept the deck, lifting him high. With both arms outflung he made a desperate effort to seize on something by which he could save himself. The fingers of his left hand fastened on a grating. The breath driven from his body, he clung to it while the water cascaded away beneath him. The suction was terrific. Suddenly the fastenings of the grating gave and it came away. Still clutching it, he was carried across the deck to the low gunwhale of the lugger. It hit him in the back but was not high enough fully to check his headlong descent caused by the heavy list as the ship plunged down the far slope of the wave. His legs were flung up and with a gasp of horror he realized that he had been swept overboard.

28

But Britain Rules the Waves

As Roger went under, his mouth filled with water. The salt in it rasped his throat and nostrils. A great darkness engulfed him. Clinging desperately to the grating with both hands, he kicked out wildly. After a few moments that seemed an eternity he surfaced. Shaking the water from his eyes, he looked about him. The lugger was thirty feet away and now rocketing up another steep slope of dark green foam-flecked water. In her stern he glimpsed Jubert and another man at the wheel. Both had lashed themselves to nearby structures, but neither of them was looking in his direction.

Seized with panic, he gave a loud shout. It was drowned by the roaring of the wind. A wave slapped into his face, blinding him and again filling his mouth with water. He realized then that it was impossible for him to attract their attention. His seasickness forgotten, now that his life was in peril he made an effort to fight down his panic and assess his chances.

Although he was a strong swimmer, he knew that without the wooden grating to support him, in such a sea he could not have kept himself afloat for a quarter of an hour, if that. Only one thing was in his favour; it had been much colder in the cutting wind on deck than it was in the water, for the sea still retained a degree of the warmth it had absorbed during the long summer and autumn. But how long would it be before, tossed hither and thither by the waves and at intervals submerged as their crests broke over him, he became too exhausted any longer to keep bis hold on the grating?

He had only a very vague idea of his whereabouts. On leaving Bordeaux a strong wind had favoured them and, although Jubert had put the lugger about to face the storm, it must have driven them still further to the north-westward. When Roger had gone overboard they had been close on thirty hours at sea, so he guessed himself to be somewhere in the northern end of the Bay of Biscay. There was, therefore, just a chance that he might be driven ashore on the southern coast of Brittany. But no land had been in sight all day, so that hope was a poor one. There was the possibility that before he became exhausted he might be sighted from a ship and picked up. But in such weather no fishing smacks would be at sea and the main shipping route from Spain across the Bay was, almost certainly, a considerable way further out. Grimly he faced the fact that his chances of survival were very slender.

From time to time, as the lugger mounted a big wave, or he was heaved high on one, he continued to catch glimpses of her, but after a quarter of an hour she was lost to sight. Twilight was already falling and soon darkness hid everything from him except the white foam crests in his immediate vicinity.

Every now and then he changed his grip on the grating, sometimes holding it in front of him, at others clutching it with only one hand while gently swimming beside it so as to keep his circulation going. It measured about four feet by three and to have used it as a raft was out of the question as it would have tipped over; but after he had been in the water for an hour or so he tried putting both his arms right over it so that the greater part of it was below his chest. The disad­vantage to that position was that even when holding his head back wavelets slapped into his face; but, at intervals, it enabled him to relieve his arms of the strain of hanging on to it.

The wind lessened and gradually the storm went down, but the night seemed endless and towards morning he began to fear that he could not last much longer. The thought of death brought into his mind Georgina and how she had so nearly drowned in the West Indies. Again he saw the vision he had had of her, then it seemed to change and, instead of him looking down on her, she was looking down on him. A moment later her voice came clearly to him in an urgent, anxious cry:

'Tie yourself to the grating, Roger. Tie yourself to it. Use your cravat.'

Rousing from the lethargy that was overcoming him, he attempted to undo his cravat. As the long strip of white linen was soaking wet it proved a veritable struggle to get it off. At length he succeeded. Terrified, now that he had to use both his hands, that he would be washed away from the grating, he half lay on it while, in fits and starts, he made slip knots in both ends of the cravat. Next he was faced with the hardest task of all—to get both the slip knots under the grating and up through holes in it that were well apart. Again and again he failed and had to lie panting for a few minutes until he had recovered sufficiently to try again. By sheer dogged persistence he eventually had about fifteen inches of the stock stretched under the grating near the far edge, and the two ends protruding above it. With a final effort he wriggled both his hands through the slip knots and the next roll of the grat­ing pulled them tight over his wrists. Now, with his arms stretched out, he lay face down with his head between them while the lower half of his body and legs dangled in the water. Then he lost consciousness.

When he came to he saw Georgina again and she was bending over him. He smiled feebly, thinking it to be another vision. Then it dawned upon him that he was in a ship's cabin, lying in a bunk wrapped in blankets with hot bottles packed all round him. Still he could not believe that he was not the victim of a fantasy, or dead, and that it was his spirit that was looking up into her lovely face.

Tears of happiness were running down her cheeks as she kissed him and said, 'Roger, my heart, just as you saved me, the dear Lord has enabled me to save you. Early this morn­ing I woke and had a vision. I saw you there alone and drowning and knew you to be about to abandon hope. I called to you to tie yourself to the grating you were holding. Then the vision faded. But something told me you were not far off. I pulled on my robe and rushed out to find the Captain of this frigate. He would not believe me, but on my insistence humoured me by agreeing that a special look-out should be kept. When he had called the watch on deck I offered a thousand guineas reward for the man who first sighted you. While I waited, scanning the vast, empty waters for a speck. I thought I'd die of suspense. At last a man in the mizzen top saw you, for the others had failed to catch a sight of you as we passed nearly a mile off. A boat was lowered and they picked you up. To my utter horror, when they brought you aboard I thought it was too late and that you were already a corpse. I pray that never again may I go through such a half hour as that while they were forcing the water from your lungs. Twice they would have given up had I not begged and insisted that they continued. At last you breathed again but were still unconscious and it is two hours since they carried you to my cabin with the sweet assurance that you would live.'

Although Roger's mind took in all that she had said, he was still half bemused and his thoughts went back to their last meeting. In a croaking voice he said, 'There have been times when I could not really credit that we had been together in Cadiz.'

'I've felt that, too,' she agreed, 'but knew it must be so; for else how could I have come to be in Gibraltar?'

He smiled, 'I had no such means of proving to myself that our meeting was not a dream. 'Twas to set my awful doubts at rest that I was on my way to England. Since then I have cursed myself a thousand times for failing to take the opportunity to ask you two questions.' 'What were they?'

'From the joy you showed at seeing me again and your reluctance that we should part I have good hopes but.. .’ He hesitated a moment, 'well... I beg you to give me reassurance that you have at last forgiven me for . . . for robbing you of John Beefy.'

'Dear Roger,' the tears again welled up into her splendid eyes. 'About that it is I who should crave forgiveness. On that terrible night you were as drunk as a lord, mad with jealousy of George Gunston and bitterly angry with me for declaring that I would not let you come again to Stillwaters. Poor John was the cause of that and you clearly held him in contempt. All this combined to make me believe that the ruthlessness without which, at times, you could not carry out your missions when abroad, had come uppermost in your drink-addled brain, and you had deliberately swept him from your path. In that I did you a great injustice. But I did not know it until shortly before I sailed for the Indies. I chanced to meet Gunston again, and John's death then being long past we talked of it. He made no pretence of being any friend of yours, but had the honesty to tell me that when two men fight as you and he did, both must watch each other's eyes. That even to look away for a second could mean receiving a deadly thrust. So as your eyes were fixed on his, your lunge could not have been aimed at John.'

'Thank God you realize the truth, my sweet; for, as I've always sworn, it was an accident. Though seeing the state I was in and all that led up to it, I cannot greatly blame you for disbelieving me. But tell me now—why on that day when I escaped from prison and hid in the stable loft at Stillwaters, instead of bringing mc money as you had promised, did you betray me to the tipstaff?'

'Betray you!' Georgina's eyes grew round and her mouth fell open. ‘I... No! Oh, Roger, how could you ever have believed that I would do such a thing. It was that dastardly new groom of mine whom I sent in to Guildford for the money. When he reached the town he heard the town crier ringing his bell and crying a reward for your capture. 'Twas he who brought the tipstaffs to the stable. When I heard what had occurred I was shaking mad with rage. I took my whip to him and lashed him until he fell writhing on the ground. I'd not have stopped there had not others who witnessed the scene restrained me.'

'Oh, Georgina,' Roger hung his head and his voice was very low. 'For having such thoughts of you can you ever forgive me?'

Leaning forward, she kissed him on the forehead, 'My dearest love, without cause each of us has harboured harsh thoughts of the other; so we are both to blame. Yet the bond between us has never really broken. I saved your life by committing perjury for you when you were on trial for murder, and saved it yet again this morning; while you saved me in the Indies then went those many thousands of miles to search for me although you thought then that I had betrayed you. Let us now think only of the future, and of the joys we will again know when in a week or so we are once more to­gether at Stillwaters.'

Roger put his arms round her and held her to him. After a long embrace and many kisses, between which they mur­mured of their abiding love for one another, as she at last drew away from him he noticed that she was wearing a black silk scarf round her neck, and said:

'Why are you wearing that scarf? You have always told me that you hated black, and I've never seen you in it except for mourning.'

Her expression became grave as she replied, 'It is mourning, dear heart. But, of course, you could not know. Our wonderful Admiral, the great Nelson, is dead.'

'Nelson dead!' cried Roger, starting up. 'No, you cannot mean it. 'Tis a mortal blow. All England will be stricken with grief as never before.'

She nodded, 'This frigate is carrying the awful news. I should have come home in the ship that carried your message to Mr. Pitt that Villeneuve was preparing to leave harbour, but in Gibraltar I was laid low by a fever for more than three weeks. Then I had to wait until this ship came out from the Mediterranean on her way home. Not far from Gibraltar we passed the scene of the battle two days after it took place.'

'Battle! D'you mean that Nelson engaged Villeneuve's fleet?'

'Yes. The French were sailing south from Cadiz and on the 21st Nelson caught them off Cape Trafalgar. They had thirty-three ships-of-the-line against his twenty-six; but only fifteen of the Franco-Spanish fleet got away and those were severely damaged. Eighteen were destroyed or captured and not a single British ship struck her colours. Poor Nelson was shot down on his quarter deck in the hour of his triumph; but he lived long enough to know that he had achieved a decisive victory.'

'Georgina! Georgina!' Roger held out his hands to her and he was almost weeping. 'Do you realize what this means, and that we two have helped to bring it about? With Villeneuve's fleet destroyed our dear country is made safe at last. England need no longer fear the horrors of an invasion.' Hoarsely, half sobbing, he burst into song:

'Rule Britannia: Britannia rules the waves

Britons never, never, never shall be slaves.'

_®

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First published by Hutchinson & Co. (Publishers) Ltd 1966 Arrow edition 1968

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© Dennis Wheatley Limited 1966

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