The gallant Captain smiled as he saluted, and in less than ten minutes he was in the saddle and flying like a meteor along the road, for he was a very Jehu.
The stone steps by which the officers mounted are still to be seen where the main entrance was.
And what were the French and other officers doing all this time?
They had all along known of the intended outbreak, and urgent requests had in some way been made to them that they would take part in it. But with some few exceptions, they had positively refused. Not, however, without much acrimonious debate. Those who were in favour of joining in the mutiny were some captains of privateers, whose sense of honour was not rendered more acute by their manner
of life, and two or three army officers of indifferent character, who had either abused their parole, or never obtained it.
A night or two before the crisis, the dispute became very violent.
“What a shame,” cried one of the malcontents, “that we, who are ready for anything to get free, should be hindered by you careful and very scrupulous gentlemen!”
“We are not hindering you,” replied Villemet: “get out if you can whenever you like. We heartily wish all the prisoners may get out. None of us will interfere.”
“But you will not help us: and not to help is to hinder.”
“And we have told you why a score of times,” put in Tournier in the quietest possible way. “The English have deprived us of liberty, but they shall never deprive us of honour. We are on parole, and we are bound in honour, therefore, not to try and escape even if we could.”