“Ha, ha!” thought I to myself; “I see how the wind blows. They will not dare, then, to keep me a prisoner longer than I like to stay. Well, I’m very comfortable here at present; so I will spend a day or so with the good people.”
I saw that I was narrowly watched wherever I went; but I did not forget the French skipper’s advice to take advantage of the fine fruit with which the garden abounded. When Madeleine saw that I was apparently contented, we became very good friends; and I must own that I spent the day not unpleasantly. I began, however, to reflect that I had no business to remain where I was if I had the power of getting away; so I turned in my mind how I could best make my escape. I guessed that to do so would not be quite so easy as at first appeared; for I had observed a labourer continually near me, and I remarked that whenever I went to a distant part of the garden his occupation invariably took him in the same direction.
“Somehow or other I must manage to make a run for it,” thought I to myself; but when I came to examine the locality, I found that the garden was surrounded with fields and ditches; and though I might swim across the latter, I should certainly have been caught and made very uncomfortable and dirty into the bargain. I therefore gave up that idea, and amused myself in the best way I could. I helped Mademoiselle Madeleine in her poultry-yard and dairy, looked in on the old lady employed in her culinary affairs, walked over the farm with the old man, and chatted in my somewhat unintelligible French, with every one I met. Happening to go into my own room in the evening, I found the window open, and looking out, I saw that the height from the sill to the ground was not more than from twelve to fifteen feet.
“Ho, ho!” thought I; “it will be a foolish bird which can’t get out of a cage like this; but I will bide my time.” I hurried away, and ran downstairs, where I was soon after summoned to supper. I made myself quite at home, and did not fail to do justice to the meal. The household went to rest early, and as soon as I fancied every one was asleep I got up from my bed, where I had thrown myself, and reconnoitred the ground. To avoid the risk of laming myself by a jump, I tied my sheets together, and secured them to the leg of a table, which I managed to jam between the shutter and the wall so as to prevent its slipping; and placing my hat tightly on my head, and buttoning up my coat, I let myself quietly down to the ground. I was afraid of awakening some one in the house should I run, as I felt inclined to do; so I crept softly away, till I had got to some distance, and then took to my heels, as fast as I could go, in the direction of the town or fishing village where I had landed. After going for some distance, I thought that I must have missed my way; but the murmur of the water on the beach assured me that I had taken the right direction. At last I found myself among some straggling cottages, my nose helping me to find the locality I was in search of. My first care was to look out for the lugger, to avoid her. Much to my satisfaction, she was not there, neither was any one moving on the quay; so I walked about till I found a shed somewhat less odorous than its neighbours, where I determined to take up my abode till daylight. Here I quickly made myself a nest with some ropes and spars—albeit not a very soft one,—and fell fast asleep. Having the necessity of being alert on my mind, I awoke just as dawn was breaking, and, jumping up, I ran down to the quay. The flapping of a sail told me that some one was astir, and, looking round, I saw at the end of the quay a cutter preparing to get under weigh.
“Cutter ahoy!” I sung out, running the chance of anybody understanding me. “Where are you bound for?”
“Hillo; who are you?” asked a voice in English.
“I want a cast across the Channel,” I answered.
“Well, come aboard, and we’ll see what we can do for you,” said the same speaker.
I accordingly ran along the quay, and jumped on the cutter’s deck just as her last warp was cast off. I had a rough Flushing coat buttoned up close round me; and as I had on also a low tarpaulin hat, I thought I looked the character I wished to assume. The people on board were likewise too busy to afford me more than a passing glance as I sprung on deck. A rough, weather-beaten old fellow, with one eye, who, from the orders he issued, I knew to be the master, stood at the helm. His crew consisted of seven hands—strong, active-looking fellows,—many more than the craft required to work her. This circumstance at once made me suspect that she was not over honest.
“Faith,” thought I to myself, “this isn’t the best place in the world for a revenue officer to find himself in.”