“I am so anxious, dear Mabel,” he said, “to get you out of this country. No mortal possessed of a treasure, ever coveted its security as I do your safety. That troublesome Monsieur Gramont is absent, the people of Havre are in commotion—now is the time to get away. If that vessel Julian declares to be the corvette is really the Onyx, she may be close in to-day, the weather is beautiful, and a nice breeze blowing off shore.”
So, tenderly pressing the hand that lay so lovingly in his, he departed, with Bill in great spirits, rejoicing at having a prospect of looking again at his favourite element, and of getting once more on board a British man-of-war, and regaining the full power of his tongue.
CHAPTER XXXII.
Lieutenant Thornton and Bill Saunders reached the sand hills without meeting a single person, or, as they thought, without attracting the notice of any one; but they were mistaken. As they crossed the sand hills, every now and then the bare head of a lad, some fourteen years of age, popped up from behind a hill, and regarded earnestly their progress, following them carefully, and concealing himself in the hollows and thick rushes, in the damp places. They had scarcely reached the rocks, and climbed nearly to the summit, when the loud boom of a heavy gun reverberated along the cliffs.
“Blow me!” exclaimed Bill, springing over some rocks, “there’s a frigate’s gun; it was quite close under the cliffs.”
The next moment the top-gallant sails of a ship of war showed above the head, but they could not make out the vessel, for, though her topsails were plainly visible, she was full a mile off shore; and our hero and Bill were in a hollow—they perceived a gig, with four oars, and a young lad in the stern-sheets, pulling out from under the head.
“English! hurrah!” exclaimed Bill, with a cheer that pealed over the sea, and reached the ears of those in the boat. The men rested on their oars, and Bill waved a red flag, which he had brought in his pocket, in the air. Instantly another flag was waved from the boat, and her head turned for the beach.
“Hurrah!” again shouted Bill, and both he and Lieutenant Thornton made for the beach; but as they came out from the hollow, and reached the foot of a deep descent, a loud voice from above hailed, in French—
“Stand, or we fire.”