"Breakers ahead!" cried the man at the bow, and we beheld a long white frothy line, glimmering through the gloom; and above it towered the dark outline of a lofty coast. The current shot us among the surf; which boiled around us as white as if we were amid the terrors of Charybdis. A little cove, where the waves rolled gently up the sandy slope, invited us to enter; the boat ran in, and we were immediately in the smooth water of a little harbour, where the dark wild woods overhung the rocks at its entrance, and all around it on every side. Here we hoped to remain unseen, till daylight revealed our "whereabouts," as the middy had it.
For a time we kept the oars in the rowlocks, ready to retire on a moment's notice; but finding that not a sound, save the dashing sea, woke the echoes of that lonely place, I volunteered to land and make a reconnoissance; desiring the midshipman to pull southward, along the shore, in case of any alarm, that I might be picked up at some other point. Belting my sabre tighter, I threw aside my cloak, and sprang ashore. On walking a little way forward, through the wood, I found the country open, and saw lights at a distance; which I conjectured to be those of Palmi or Seminara, where Regnier had concentrated a strong body of troops.
Struggling forward among a wilderness of prostrate columns and shattered walls overgrown with creeping plants and foliage (probably the ruins of ancient Taurianum), I often stopped and bent to the ground to listen; but heard only the creaking trees, the gurgle of a lonely rill seeking its devious path to the sea, or the rustle of withered leaves, swept over the waste by the rising wind. But the roll of a distant drum and the flash of a cannon about two miles off, arrested my steps and made me think of returning: I conjectured it to be the morning gun from the French fort at Palmi. Daylight soon began to brighten the summits of the Apennines, and the waves, as they rolled on each far off promontory and cape. Having nearly a mile to walk, I began hurriedly to retrace my steps; for the dawn stole rapidly on. As I walked on, the deep boom of a cannonade and the sharp patter of small arms made my heart leap with excitement and anxiety, and spurred me in my flight. Breaking through the wood, I rushed breathlessly to the shore; but alas! the boat was gone: I saw it pulled seaward, with a speed which the strong flow of the morning current accelerated. In close chase, giving stroke for stroke, while the crew plied their muskets and twenty-four pounder, followed one of those unlucky gun-boats captured by the French: it had been anchored in the same cove, and had discovered our little shallop the moment day broke.
The pursued and the pursuers soon disappeared behind a promontory, and I found myself alone, far behind the enemy's lines, and almost without a chance of escape. Cursing the zeal which had led me on such a fruitless reconnoissance, I retired into a beech wood, as the safest place; and lay down in a thicket to reflect on my position, and form a plan for extrication from it.
CHAPTER XVIII.
CAPTURED BY THE ENEMY—THE TWO GENERALS.
I was only twelve miles distant from Scylla; but as every approach to it was closely blocked up by Regnier, whose troops covered the whole province from sea to sea, every attempt to reach it would be attended by innumerable dangers and difficulties: yet, confiding in the loyalty of the Calabrese, and the influence my name had among them, I did not despair of regaining the fortress, by seeking its vicinity through the most retired paths.
Except my sword, spurs, and Hessian boots, I had nothing military about me; as I wore a Calabrian doublet of grey cloth, and a nondescript forage-cap. As I walked forward, the trees became more scattered, and the openness of the ground made the utmost circumspection necessary. A sudden cry of "Halte! arrêtez!" made me pause; and, within a few paces, I beheld a French vidette—a lancer in his long; scarlet cloak, which flowed from his shoulders over the crupper of his horse, and, like his heavy plume and tricoloured banderole, was dank with dew.
"Ah, sacre coquin!" he cried, lowering his lance, and charging me at full speed. "I see you are an Englishman." I sprang behind a tree, and as he passed me in full career, by a blow of my sabre I hewed the steel head from his lance. At that moment an officer rode up, and, placing a pistol at my head, commanded me to yield. Resistance was vain, and I surrendered my sabre in the most indescribable sorrow and chagrin; for thoughts of Bianca, of a long separation and imprisonment, of all my blighted hopes of happiness, honour, and promotion, and of the important trust reposed in me, rushed in a flood upon my mind: almost stupified, I was led away by my captor.
A few minutes' walk brought us to the bivouac of a cavalry brigade, which was in all the bustle of preparation for the march; while six trumpeters, blowing "boot and saddle," made the furthest dingles of the forest ring. The horses were all picqueted under trees, or within breast-ropes; and the officer informed me that the brigade was that of General Compere, before whom he led me.