‘I have important news,’ he whispered to Maxwell, after he had made his graceful adieux to Enid and his host. ‘I want to say a few words to you, if you happen to be walking my way.’
Maxwell answered with studious politeness. ‘With pleasure,’ he said. ‘If you will allow me, I will drive you in my cab.’
Enid’s quick ears caught the whisper, and a feeling of approaching evil seemed to come over her—a cloud passed over the sun, and, to her fancy, for a moment Le Gautier looked like Mephistopheles tempting Faust. As the two men passed out, she called Maxwell back. ‘Be careful,’ she urged. ‘Beware of that man; he will do you a mischief.’
Maxwell smiled down in the pretty fearful face tenderly. ‘All right, little woman,’ he answered carelessly. ‘I shall take care. He is not likely to do any harm to me.’
NAPOLEON IN TOR BAY.
It is all but impossible to realise the scene of excitement which the calm blue waters of Tor Bay, crested with the bright sunshine of the summer of 1815, presented, when the Emperor Napoleon arrived on board the Bellerophon, soon to be transferred to the Northumberland, in which he was conveyed to St Helena. After the world-earthquake Waterloo, when the allies entered Paris, and the French army declared for Louis XVIII., Napoleon made his way to Rochefort, where he arrived on the 3d of July, and whence his attempts at escape were frustrated by the moonlight and the vigilance of the English cruisers. Two frigates had been placed at his disposal to facilitate his flight to America, and arrangements likewise made with a Danish smack which was to await him out at sea; but to reach her under the circumstances was deemed an attempt too hazardous. At last, on the 14th of July, Count Las Cases and General Allemand came on board the Bellerophon, then lying in the Basque Roads, with a proposal to Captain Maitland that he should receive Napoleon, who desired to proceed to England for the purpose of throwing himself upon the generosity of the Prince Regent. Captain Maitland clearly explained that it was out of his power to grant terms of any sort, and that his instructions only permitted him to convey Napoleon and his attendants to England; on which understanding, the ex-Emperor, with his baggage, embarked the following morning on board a French brig, which conveyed them to the Bellerophon, where he was received with the honours due to a crowned head. On gaining the quarter-deck, the Emperor said in French to the captain: ‘I am come, sir, to claim the protection of your Prince and of your laws.’ In appearance he is described as about five and a half feet in height, strongly made, decidedly stout, with a sallow complexion, and dark-brown hair, as yet untouched with gray. He wore a green uniform coat with epaulets and a red collar, a broad red sash, star on the left breast, white waistcoat, boots and pantaloons, and a large cocked hat with the tricoloured cockade.
The passage, by reason of adverse winds, was slow, so that it was the 24th ere the Bellerophon arrived in Tor Bay, when Captain Maitland was signalled to stand out three leagues from shore, and there await further orders from the Admiralty. It is said that on first beholding the Devonshire coast, Napoleon could not conceal his admiration, exclaiming: ‘At length here is this beautiful country! How much it resembles Porto Ferrajo, in Elba.’
No sooner was it known that the disturber of the peace of Europe, against whom they had so long and so sternly striven, was actually on board ship at anchor in Tor Bay, than from Dartmouth, Paignton, Dawlish, Teignmouth, and by-and-by from ports more distant still, the country-folk thronged in boats of every size and shape, struggling to approach the Bellerophon to catch a glimpse of the fallen Emperor. So inconvenient and dangerous was the crowding of these innumerable craft with their cargoes of sightseers, that it became necessary to order the Bellerophon’s boats to row round the ship to keep them at a respectful distance. No fewer than a thousand boats daily put off from the shore; and Napoleon exhibited no little pleasure and amusement at the interest excited by his presence. From London and all parts of the country, people flocked down to Tor Bay during the time necessarily occupied in determining Napoleon’s final destination, well pleased if they succeeded in catching an occasional glimpse of him as he walked backwards and forwards in the stern gallery with his hands behind him, or surveyed through an opera glass the varied texture of the crowd in the vessels below. As he paced the quarter-deck in conversation with one or other of his followers, he would frequently approach the ship’s side and acknowledge the salutations of his visitors. Two or three French ladies, wives of members of the suite, dressed in the height of the prevailing fashion, were frequently seated on deck, with whom, as he paused in his walk and stooped to look through the ports at the vessels alongside, Napoleon would now and again exchange a word. At six o’clock the dinner-bell rang, when the Emperor with his attendants went below, the sailors with great good-humour putting out a board on which was chalked, ‘He’s gone to dine.’ He usually remained about half an hour, when another board announced his reappearance on deck. It was about the 1st of August when his ultimate destination became known to him through the newspapers, and he was shortly afterwards observed at the cabin window tearing up papers, which he threw into the sea. Fragments of some of these, being seized upon as relics, turned out to be translations of speeches in the last session of parliament, and a letter addressed to the Empress Maria Louisa immediately after his abdication.
But of all the incidents which occurred while Napoleon was in Tor Bay, the most remarkable was a farewell visit paid him by a lady of foreign appearance and surpassing loveliness. Cloaked and veiled, to escape observation, she carried with her a bouquet of choicest flowers, peculiarly arranged in rows, which, when her boat arrived at a convenient distance from the Bellerophon, was despatched in charge of her servant. As the token of unchanged affection reached the quarter-deck, the lady was observed to raise her veil, disclosing features of exceeding beauty. At first, the bouquet seemed to awaken no memories in Napoleon’s breast, but after a moment, he hastily approached the ship’s side, and steadfastly gazing awhile on the fair form disclosed to view, he waved a last farewell.
On Wednesday the 2d of August, the Bellerophon and Tonnant sailed for Plymouth, where it had been intended that the transfer to the Northumberland should be carried out. But in consequence of the loss of life which occurred from the vast concourse of boats in the Sound, as well as to avoid a writ of habeas corpus, under which it was desired to obtain the evidence of Napoleon in a case at the time pending in the Queen’s Bench, it was deemed advisable to return to Tor Bay, where, on Sunday the 6th of August, the three vessels (the Northumberland having meantime come round from Portsmouth) cast anchor. No sooner were the ships brought up, than Sir Henry Bunbury, accompanied by Mr Bathurst, proceeded on board the Bellerophon, and announced to the ex-Emperor the resolution of the cabinet, that he should be transported to St Helena, accompanied by four of his friends and twelve servants. The information was received without surprise; but in a speech of three-quarters of an hour’s duration, delivered in a manner the most impressive, Napoleon protested against the determination which had been arrived at.