With these combined noises of cannons and wind instruments shouts of enthusiasm and words of command speedily became mixed. The troops were evidently advancing; were they coming in this direction? Surely they were, since before long I saw glittering in the air, at the end of one of those fine avenues which I had had opened by my subjects, muskets, bayonets, golden sword-hilts, and brilliant uniforms. These uniforms, which stood out in strong relief from the blue distance, were evidently those of the English army and navy.
The reader may imagine that my sight and mind alike dwelt on the least movements of that mass of men who advanced with such rapidity and precision towards the spot whence my eyes were devouring them.
At a whistle, which came, I do not doubt, from the metallic lungs of Karabouffi, my prime minister, and I believe in some degree my successor in his own mind, ever since I had disregarded the love of my people, all the apes, the strong, the cunning, the bold, the slow, the quick, the subtle, the obstinate, completely disappeared; they vanished like air through the openings: not a single one remained!
The vast space in front of the verandah was empty in the twinkling of an eye.
An instant after the troops occupied this space left so rapidly free by the apes.
A superior officer placed himself in the centre of the little army, which was formed in a circle of considerable size. What a joyous and inexpressible surprise for me! In this officer I recognised the brave Vice-Admiral Campbell himself. I uttered a cry, but it was too far off to be heard.
Admiral Campbell made a sign that he was about to speak; the men were all attention, and he said:—
“Officers and men,—You all know by what a miserable snare we were carried off from this island some five months since.
“You all know of the chastisement which our brave countrymen belonging to the squadron which arrived so opportunely in the Indian seas some six months sooner than it was expected have inflicted on the Sultan of Sooloo. His capital has been burnt; the Halcyon has been retaken from the Malay pirates who had treacherously carried her off; one hundred and fifty of these scoundrels have suffered the punishment reserved for pirates, and have been hung to the yard-arms of their junks and praus. Indemnities have been paid to the families of the brave sailors who have perished through this outrage committed in utter defiance of the law of nations.
“A further act of reparation was due to us. To-day, officers and men, with your assistance, I retake possession of this island, in the name of Her Most Gracious Majesty!”