Paul Gerrard, the Cabin Boy

by William Henry Giles Kingston

So away she went, leaving the midshipmen to their own reflections—O’Grady more in love than ever. As they had nothing to do, they looked through the window, and saw the cart which had brought them driving rapidly away. Rosalie came back soon afterwards with a very nice dinner on a tray. She said that she alone would attend on them, for though she could safely trust the people in the house, the fewer who knew that they were there the better. The château, she told them, belonged to her uncle, a Royalist, a fine old gentleman, who had nearly lost his life in the Revolution. She had come over that day, as had previously been arranged, to attend on her uncle, who was ill, and would, therefore, be unable to see them, but hoped to do so before their departure. She concluded that they were in no great hurry to be off.

“Not in the slightest, tell her,” exclaimed O’Grady, when Paul explained what she had said: “we are as happy as bees in a sugar-bason.”

Rosalie did not object to stay and talk with the midshipmen, but she had her uncle to attend on. She told them that she would close a door at the bottom of the turret steps; when opened, it would cause a small bell to ring in the room, and that the instant they should hear it, they were to retreat by the panel and take refuge in the roof. She again cautioned them not to leave anything in the room which might betray them; and having placed a jug of water, a bottle of wine, and some bread and cheese in the recess, she carefully brushed up the crumbs, and carried the tray with her down-stairs.

“Well, she is first-rate,” cried O’Grady; “she’s so sensible and pretty. I don’t care who knows it—I say she’ll make a capital wife.”

“I dare say she will,” said Paul. He did not think it prudent to make any further remark on the subject.

Having exhausted the subject of Miss Rosalie, and declared fully fifty times over that she was the most charming person alive, Paddy relapsed into silence. They waited hour after hour for the return of the cart, hoping that it might bring in Reuben. At last they rolled themselves up in their blankets and went to sleep. Rosalie had brought them in with pillows, and reminded them that they must drag the whole up with them into the roof, if they heard the bell ring. When Rosalie appeared the next morning, she said that Jaques had returned, but that he had seen nothing of the English sailor.

Several days passed by, and at last Rosalie said that her uncle would be well enough, she hoped, to visit them on the following day. They would have found their time pass somewhat heavily, had not she frequently visited them. She also brought them a French book, and, with it to assist him, Paul set to work to teach O’Grady French. Rosalie, when she came in, corrected his pronunciation, which was not always correct. O’Grady learnt very rapidly, and he declared that he thought it was a pity that they should not remain where they were till he was perfect.

“You see, Gerrard,” he observed, “we are living here free of expense. It’s very pleasant, and we are not idling our time.”

Paul, however, who was not in love, though he thought Rosalie a very amiable young lady, insisted that it was their duty to get back to England as fast as they could. He also wished to see his mother and sisters, and to put them out of their anxiety about him. At last he told O’Grady that he wouldn’t help him any longer to learn French if he did not put such foolish notions out of his head, and that he was very sure without him he would never get on. Paddy had sense enough to see that he must knock under, and that Paul was, in reality, the better man of the two. They were to see Mon Oncle, as Rosalie always called the owner of the château, on the following day. They were not allowed to have a light in the turret, lest it should betray them; so, as soon as it was dark, they went to sleep. The weather outside was unpleasant, for it was blowing and raining hard. They had not long coiled themselves up in their respective corners, when there was a loud knocking at the chief door of the château, the noise resounding through the passages up to their turret.

“Some benighted travellers seeking shelter from the storm,” observed O’Grady. “I am glad that we are not out going across country in such a night as this.”