“Now!” said I.
We dashed our oars into the water, and in half a dozen strokes were alongside the astonished fishermen.
As the two boats touched, Bob laid in his oar, and with the dinghy’s painter in one hand and his drawn cutlass in the other, leaped on board the stranger, treading as he did so upon a mass of fish which lay writhing and flapping feebly in the bottom of the boat, and instantly assuming, quite unintentionally on his part, you may be sure, a sitting position amongst the thickest of the slimy, scaly cargo. As he boarded forward, I did so aft, and presenting a pistol in each hand, as sternly as I could, while struggling to suppress my laughter at Bob’s exploit, ordered the fishermen to surrender, and to keep perfect silence, upon pain of instant death as the penalty of disobedience.
The poor fellows were taken completely by surprise, and seemed to have no idea of resistance. They meekly cast off that portion of their lines which still remained overboard, and taking to their oars, pulled quietly away in the direction which I ordered, or towards the “Mouette,” the dinghy being in tow astern.
As we, or rather they, rowed off to the cutter I questioned the men as to their reason for running so great a risk for the sake of a few fish, and in reply gained the information that the garrison, though still in possession of a moderate supply of food, foresaw that a time of scarcity was rapidly approaching; and the general had, accordingly, a few days previously taken the remaining provisions under his own control, issuing to each inhabitant a daily ration upon a very reduced scale. Under these circumstances, the fishermen of the place thought they saw their way to a good market for any fish they could contrive to capture, and a few of them had accordingly ventured out at night with their hooks and lines.
This was most valuable information, if true, but coming from the enemy I thought it scarcely reliable—though the men spoke with the utmost freedom, and apparently in perfectly good faith. I therefore determined, while slightly modifying my original plan, still to carry it out.
On our arrival on board the “Mouette,” I invited our two prisoners down into the cabin, and pouring them out a stiff “nor’wester” each, to cheer them up a little and loosen their tongues, I told them frankly that it was necessary I should make my way into Bastia, and intimated to them, that as they would be retained as hostages until my safe return, and liberated immediately afterwards, it would obviously be to their interest to give me all the information and help in their power to enable me to provide for my safety. I also informed them that it would be necessary for me to borrow certain portions of their habiliments, to be used as a disguise.
“It is a dangerous game which you are about to play, monsieur,” remarked the elder of the two, who gave his name as Jean Leferrier. “The greatest precautions are taken to prevent the access of spies into the place. Most of the inhabitants are well known, and any stranger would certainly be noticed and sharply questioned as to how he came there, and upon what business. I greatly fear you will be arrested before you have been three hours in the place. If monsieur will condescend to accept the advice of a poor, ignorant fisherman like myself, he will abandon his idea, and not embark upon so hazardous an enterprise.”
This, however, I would not listen to for a moment, in fact every word spoken only made me the more determined to go on; and this I intimated pretty plainly.
“Perhaps if monsieur were to adopt the rôle of an escaped prisoner from the British fleet he might succeed in disarming suspicion,” remarked Pierre Cousin, the other prisoner. “Monsieur’s accent is certainly not quite perfect (if he will pardon my presuming to say so); still it may pass without attracting much notice, and if you, Jean, were to give him a note to la mère, she could take him in and look after him,—that is, if monsieur could endure the poor accommodation to be found under her roof.”