It was hard on daybreak when St. Just reached his lodging in the Rue de Dauphin, and the people in the house were not yet up; but the summons at the door soon aroused them. His landlord was at first disposed to be unfriendly, but when he saw the handsome carriage and horses, the liveries of the coachman and footman, and the officer in uniform who had accompanied his lodger, he made no ado about admitting him, and became almost fulsome in his words of welcome. The belief of the worthy couple had been that St. Just had been spending his week's absence in the country; and they had been confirmed in it by a beautiful lady who had driven up in a carriage and told them that it was so. She had also interviewed his servant Mahmoud, whom it appeared, she knew, and had taken him away with her.
Before going she had left a note for St. Just; and this was all they had to tell him.
Halima's note contained but these few words:—
"Am quite well. We shall meet again soon. I have taken Mahmoud with me. I know you will not want him for the present.
Then, Halima guessed, if she did not positively know, of his coming journey to England.
His preparations did not take him long, and he left Paris at the time Talleyrand had ordered him to start, and reached Boulogne on the evening of the following day. He soon found the La Flèche, a small vessel, at anchor in the harbor. He presented himself to the captain as the Comte St. Clair, according to instructions, and handed him papers authorizing his passage to England.
The next morning, so soon as it was light, they moved out of the harbor, but the breeze was so light, and what there was of it, so unfavorable to their course, that they had to keep continually tacking; thus it was night before they sighted the shores of England. As it was, they were taken somewhat out of their course, and the nearest port was Shoreham; this they made. St. Just was landed in a sir all boat a short distance from the port itself, which, indeed, at that time, was little more than a cluster of cottages—a hamlet; though now a town of some importance.
Taking his small bag in his hand—for he had not cared to encumber himself with luggage, intending to supply himself in London with such clothing as he required—he began to make his way across the sandy flats that intervened between the shore and the high road, meaning, on gaining Shoreham, to obtain some means of conveyance to Brighton, and thence to take the coach to London. He was told that, by bearing direct northwards from the sea, he would soon hit the road.
The night was dark, for there was no moon, and but a few stars were to be seen; but that his way was so direct, he would not have attempted it without a guide. Not a sound was to be heard, not even the fall of his own feet, for the sand and the tufts of coarse grass that dotted it formed a soft carpet that made his footsteps noiseless. But walking was somewhat arduous; the more so that he had to feel his way, or he would have fallen, for the ground was full of little mounds and hollows. His progress, accordingly, was slow.
He went stumbling along, but never actually falling and had made about half the distance to the road, when, all at once, close by his ear, he heard the words shouted in a strident voice, "Here he is, lads!" and, the next moment, received a violent blow on the head that felled him to the ground, and, before he had so much as seen his assailant, he was stretched insensible on the sand.