 | CHAPTER XII. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet |  |
12. CHAPTER XII.
In me is no delay; with thee to go,
Is to stay here; with thee here to stay,
Is to go hence unwilling; thou to me
Art all things under heav'n, all places thou.”
Milton.
The intelligence communicated by Ithuel essentially
altered Raoul's views of his actual situation. An active man
might go from the Marinella, at the foot of the Scaricatojo,
or the place where the crew of the felucca had landed, to
the Marina Grande of Sorrento, in an hour. At the latter
beach, boats were always to be found, and two hours
more would carry the messenger, by water, to the ships off
Capri, even in a calm. The first of these important hours
had now elapsed some time; and he could not doubt that
vigorous arms were already employed in pulling across the
few leagues of water that separated the island from the shores
of Sorrento. The day was calm, it is true; and it would be
impossible to move the ships; but two frigates and a heavy
sloop-of-war, might send such a force against him in boats,
as, in his present situation, would render resistance next to
hopeless.
Raoul ceased eating, and, standing on the taffrail, he cast
anxious looks around him. His sturdy followers, ignorant
of all the dangers by which they were environed, were consuming
their morning's meal, with the characteristic indifference
to danger that marks the ordinary conduct of seamen.
Even Ithuel, usually so sensitive on the subject of
English power, and who had really so much to apprehend,
should he again fall into the hands of the Proserpines, was
masticating his food, with the keen relish of a man who had
been hard at work the whole morning. All appeared unconscious
of their critical condition; and to Raoul it seemed as
if the entire responsibility rested on his own shoulders.
Fortunately, he was not a man to shrink from his present
duties; and he occupied the only leisure moment that would
and in maturing his plans.
The armament still remained in the lugger, but it was
doubtful if she would float without removing it; and, admitting
this necessity, the question arose of, what was to be
done with it, in order to render it available, in the event of
an attack. Two, or even four of the light guns might be
worked on the decks of the felucca; and here he determined
they should be immediately placed, with a proper supply of
cartridges and shot. Twenty men thrown into that light
craft, which Ithuel reported as sailing and sweeping well,
might prove of the last importance. Then one of the islets
had a ruin on it, of what was believed to be an ancient
temple. It is true, these ruins were insignificant, and
scarcely visible at any distance; but, on a close examination,
and by using some of the displaced stones with judgment,
it was possible to entrench a party behind them, and
make a stout resistance against light missiles; or such as
boats would most probably use. Raoul got into the yawl,
and sculled himself to this spot, examining the capabilities
with care and judgment. After this, his mode of proceeding
was matured to his own satisfaction.
The usual time had been consumed, and the hands were
“turned to;” each officer receiving the orders necessary to
the discharge of the duty confided to his particular superintendence.
As Ithuel had captured the felucca, Raoul felt it
right to intrust him with the command of the prize. He was
directed to take on board the armament and ammunition
necessary to a defence, to mount the guns in the best manner
he could, and to make all the other fighting preparations;
while another gang struck into the felucca's hold, such articles
from the lugger, as it was desirable to save.
Another party, under the first-lieutenant, landed the remainder
of the light carronades, pieces of twelve pounds
only, with the proper stores, and commenced the arrangements
to place them in battery among the ruins. A small
supply of food and water was also transferred to this islet.
While these dispositions were in progress, Raoul himself,
assisted by his sailing-master, prepared to heave the lugger
off the rocks. To this, at present the most important duty,
our hero gave his personal inspection; for it required skill,
was reserved to aid in the attempt. At length everything
was ready, and the instant had arrived when the momentous
trial was to be made. The lugger had now been ashore
quite four hours, and the sun had been up fully three. By
this time, Raoul calculated that the English, at Capri, knew
of his misfortune, and little leisure remained in which to do
a vast deal of work. The hands were all summoned to the
bars, therefore, and the toil of heaving commenced.
As soon as the cable got the strain, Raoul felt satisfied
that the anchor would hold. Fortunately, a fluke had taken
a rock, a circumstance that could be known only by the
result; but, so long as the iron held together, there was no
danger of that material agent's failing them. The last part
of the process of lightening was now performed as rapidly
as possible, and then came the trial-heave at the bars.
Every effort was fruitless, however, inch being gained after
inch, until it seemed as if the hemp of the cable were extending
its minutest fibres, without the hull's moving any
more than the rocks on which it lay. Even the boys were
called to the bars; but the united force of all hands, the
officers included, produced no change. There was an instant
when Raoul fancied his best course would be to set fire
to the hulk, get on board the felucca, and sweep off to the
southward, in season to avoid the expected visit from the
English. He even called his officers together, and laid the
proposition before them. But the project was too feebly
urged, and it met with too little response in the breasts of
his auditors to be successful. The idea of abandoning that
beautiful and faultless little craft, was too painful, while
the remotest hope of preserving it remained.
Raoul had measured his hours with the accuracy of a
prudent general. It was now almost time for the English
boats to appear, and he began to hope that the Neapolitans
had made the great mistake of sending their information to
the fleet off Naples, rather than carrying it to the ships at
Capri. Should it prove so, he had still the day before him,
and might retire under cover of the night. At all events,
the lugger could not be abandoned without an enemy in
sight, and the people were again called to the bars for a renewed
effort. As water might be obtained at a hundred
the last gallon had been started and pumped out, during the
recent pause.
Our hero felt that this was the final effort. The hold
of le Feu-Follet was literally empty, and all her spare spars
were floating among the rocks. If she could not be started
now, he did not possess the means to get her off. The anchor
held; the cable, though stretched to the utmost, stood,
and every creature, but himself, was at the bars. The
ground-swell had been lessening all the morning, and little
aid was now to be had from the rising of the water. Still
that little must be obtained; without it, the task seemed hopeless.
“Get ready, men,” cried Raoul, as he paced the taffrail;
“and heave at the word. We will wait for a swell, then
strain every nerve till something part. Pas encore, mes
enfans—pas encore! Stand by!—Yonder comes a fellow
who will lift us—heave a strain — heave harder—heave,
body and soul!—heave, altogether!”
The men obeyed. First they hove a gentle strain; then
the effort was increased, and, obedient to the order, just as
the ground-swell rolled under the lugger's bottom, they
threw out their utmost strength, and the hull started for the
first time. This was encouraging, though the movement
did not exceed six inches. It was a decided movement, and
was made in the right direction. This success nerved the
people to an increased effort. It was probable that, at the
next strain, they would throw a tenth more impetus into
their muscles. Of all this, Raoul was aware, and he determined
not to let the feeling flag.
“Encore, mes enfans!” he said. “Heave, and get ready!
Be watchful—now 's your time! Heave, and rip the planks
off the lugger's bottom — heave, men, heave!”
This time, the effort answered to the emergency; the
swell rolled in, the men threw out their strength, a surge
was felt, it was followed up by a strain, and le Feu-Follet
shot off her bed into deep water, rolling, for want of ballast,
nearly to her hammock-cloths. She soon lay directly over
her anchor.
Here was success!—Triumphant success; and that, at a
moment when the most sanguine had begun to despair.
of extravagant joy. The tears came to Raoul's
eyes; but he had no opportunity of concealing them, every
officer he had pressing around him to exchange felicitations.
The scene was one of happy disorder. It had lasted two
or three minutes, when Ithuel, always cold and calculating,
edged his way through the throng to his commander's side,
and pointed significantly in the direction of Campanella.
There, indeed, was visible, a division of the expected boats.
It was pulling towards them, having that moment doubled
the cape!
Ithuel's gesture was too significant to escape attention,
and every eye followed its direction. The sight was of a
nature not to be mistaken. It at once changed the current
of feeling in all who beheld it. There was no longer a
doubt concerning the manner in which the news of the
accident had travelled, or of its effect on the English at Capri.
In point of fact, the padrone of the captured felucca, with a
sole eye to the recovery of his vessel, had ascended the
Scaricatojo, after landing at the Marinella, at its foot, fast
as legs could carry him; had rather run, than glided, along
the narrow lanes of the piano and the hill-side to the beach
of Sorrento; had thrown himself into a boat, manned by
four lusty Sorrentine watermen—and Europe does not contain
lustier or bolder; had gone on board the Terpsichore,
and laid his case before Sir Frederick Dashwood, ignorant
of the person of the real commanding officer among the
three ships. The young baronet, though neither very wise,
nor very much experienced in his profession, was exceedingly
well disposed to seek distinction. It immediately
occurred to his mind, that the present was a fitting opportunity
to gain laurels. He was second in rank, present; and,
in virtue of that claim, he fancied that the first could do no
more than send him in command of the expedition, which
he righly foresaw Cuffe would order against the French.
But there arose a difficulty. As soon as Sir Frederick
reported the nature of the intelligence he had received to
his senior captain, and his own wish to be employed on the
occasion, the rights of Winchester interposed to raise a
question. Cuffe was prompt enough in issuing an order for
each ship to man and arm two boats, making six in all, and
time in deciding as to who was to command. This was
the cause of delay, and had given rise to certain hopes in
Raoul, that facts were subsequently to destroy. In the end,
Sir Frederick prevailed; his rank giving him a decided advantage;
and the division of boats that was now approaching
was under his orders.
Raoul saw he had rather more than an hour to spare.
To fight the felucca, unsupported, against so many enemies,
and that in a calm, was quite out of the question. That
small, low craft might destroy a few of her assailants, but
she would inevitably be carried at the first onset. There
was not time to get the ballast and other equipments into
the lugger, so as to render her capable of a proper resistance;
nor did even she offer the same advantages for a
defence, unless in quick motion, as the ruins. It was determined,
therefore, to make the best disposition of the two
vessels that circumstances would allow, while the main
dependence should be placed on the solid defences of stone.
With this end, Ithuel was directed to haul his felucca to a
proper berth; the first-lieutenant was ordered to get as
much on board le Feu-Follet as possible, in readiness to
profit by events; while Raoul himself, selecting thirty of
his best men, commenced preparing the guns on the rocks
for active service.
A single half-hour wrought a material change in the
state of things. Ithuel had succeeded in hauling the felucca
into a berth among the islets, where she could not easily be
approached by boats, and where her carronades might be
rendered exceedingly useful. Much of the ballast was again
on board the lugger, and a few of her stores, sufficient to render
her tolerably stiff, in the event of a breeze springing up;
and Raoul had directed the two inside guns of the felucca
to be sent on board her and mounted, that she might assist
in the defence with a flanking fire. The great difficulty
which exists in managing a force at anchor, is the opportunity
that is given the assailant of choosing his point of
attack, and by bringing several of the vessels in a line,
cause them to intercept each other's fire. In order to prevent
this, as much as in his power, Raoul placed his two
floating-batteries out of line, though it was impossible to
exposed, on one point of attack, in a degree greater than
any other. Nevertheless, the arrangement was so made,
that either a vessel or the ruins might aid each craft respectively
against the assault on her weakest point.
When his own guns were ready, and the two vessels
moored, Raoul visited both the lugger and felucca, to
inspect their preparations, and to say a cheerful word to
their men. He found most things to his mind; where they
were not, he ordered changes to be made. With the lieutenant,
his conversation was brief, for that officer was one
who possessed much experience in this very sort of warfare,
and could be relied on. With Ithuel, he was more communicative;
not that he distrusted the citizen of the Granite
state, but that he knew him to be a man of unusual
resources, could the proper spirit be aroused within him.
“Bien, Etooelle,” he said, when the inspection was
ended, “much will depend on the use you make of these
two guns.”
“I know that, as well as you do yourself, Captain Rule,”
answered the other, biting off at least two inches from half a
yard of pig-tail; “and, what 's more, I know that I fight
with a rope round my neck. The spiteful devils will hardly
overlook all that 's passed; and though it will be dead ag'in
all law, they 'll work out their eends on us both, if we don't
work out our eends on them. To my mind, the last will be
the most agreeable, as well as the most just.”
“Bon!—Do not throw away your shot, Etooelle.”
“I!—why, Captain Rule, I 'm nat'rally economical. That
would be wasteful, and waste I set down for a sin. The
only place I calculate on throwing the shot, is into the face
and eyes of the English. For my part, I wish Nelson, himself,
was in one of them boats—I wish the man no harm;
but I do wish he was in one of them very boats.”
“And, Etooelle, I do not. It is bad enough as it is, entre
nous; and Nelson is very welcome to stay on board his
Foudroyant; voilà!—The enemy is in council; we shall
soon hear from them. Adieu, mon ami; remember our two
Republiques!”
Raoul squeezed Ithuel's hand, and entered his boat. The
distance to the ruin was trifling, but it was necessary to
the young mariner discovered a boat pulling from the direction
of the marinella, at the foot of the Scaricatojo, which
had got so near, unseen, as, at first, to startle him by its
proximity. A second look, however, satisfied him that no
cause of apprehension existed, in that quarter. His eye
could not be deceived. The boat contained Ghita and her
uncle; the latter rowing, and the former seated in the stern,
with her head bowed to her knees, apparently in tears.
Raoul was alone, sculling the light yawl with a single hand,
and he exerted himself to meet these unexpected, and, in the
circumstances, unwelcome visiters, as far as possible from
the rocks. Presently the two boats lay side by side.
“What means this, Ghita!” the young man exclaimed;
“do you not see the English, yonder; at this moment
making their preparations to attack us. In a few minutes
we shall be in the midst of a battle, and thou here!”
“I see it all, now, Raoul,” was the answer, “though we
did not on quitting the shore; but we would not turn back,
having once come upon the Bay. I was the first in St. Agata
to discover the evil that had befallen thee; from that moment
I have never ceased to entreat my uncle, until he has consented
to come hither.”
“With what motive, Ghita?” asked Raoul, with sparkling
eyes—“at length thou relentest—wilt become my wife! In
my adversity, thou rememberest thou art a woman!”
“Not exactly that, dear Raoul; but I cannot desert thee,
altogether, in this strait. The same objection exists now, I
fear, that has ever existed to our union; but that is no reason
I should not aid thee. We have many friends along the
heights, here, who will consent to conceal thee; and I have
come to carry thee and the American to the shore, until an
opportunity offer to get thee to thine own France.”
“What! desert ces braves, Ghita, at a moment like this!
—Not to possess thy hand, dearest girl, could I be guilty of
an act so base.”
“Thy situation is not theirs. The condemnation to death
hangs over thee, Raoul; shouldst thou again fall into English
hands, there will be no mercy for thee.”
“Assez—this is no moment for argument. The English
are in motion, and there is barely time for thee to get to a
Ghita! This care of thine draws my heart to thee closer
than ever; but we must now separate. Signor Giuntotardi,
pull more towards Amalfi. I see that the English mean to
attack us from the side of the land—pull more towards
Amalfi.”
“Thou tellest us this in vain, Raoul,” Ghita quietly, but
firmly answered. “We have not come here on an unmeaning
errand—if thou refusest to go with us, we will
remain with thee. These prayers, that thou so despisest,
may not prove useless.”
“Ghita!—this can never be. We are without cover—
almost without defences—our vessel is unfit to receive thee,
and this affair will be very different from that off Elba.
Thou would'st not willingly distract my mind with care for
thee, at such a moment!”
“We will remain, Raoul. There may come a moment,
when thou wilt be glad to have the prayers of believers.
God leadeth us hither, either to take thee away, or to
remain, and look to thy eternal welfare, amid the din of war.”
Raoul gazed at the beautiful enthusiast, with an intensity
of love and admiration, that even her truthful simplicity had
never before excited. Her mild eyes were kindling with
holy ardour, her cheeks were flushed, and something like the
radiance of heaven seemed to beam upon her countenance.
The young man felt that time pressed; he saw no hope of
overcoming her resolution, in season to escape the approaching
boats; and it might be, that the two would be
safer in some nook of the ruins, than in attempting to return
to the shore. Then, that never-dying, but latent, wish to
have Ghita with him, aided his hasty reasoning and he decided
to permit the girl, and her uncle, to come upon the
islet, that he was to defend in person.
Some signs of impatience had begun to manifest themselves
among his people, ere Raoul made up his mind to
the course he would follow. But, when he landed, supporting
Ghita, that chivalry of character, and homage to the
sex, which distinguishes the southern Frenchman, changed
the current of feeling, and their two acquaintances were
received with acclamation. The acts of self-devotion seemed
heroic, and that is always enough to draw applause among
the necessary dispositions was short. Fortunately, the
surgeon had taken his post on this islet, as the probable scene
of the warmest conflict, and he had contrived to make his
preparations to receive the hurt, in a cavity of the rock,
behind a portion of the ruin, where the person would be
reasonably safe. Raoul saw the advantages of this position,
and he led Ghita and her uncle to it, without pausing
to deliberate. Here he tenderly embraced the girl, a liberty
Ghita could not repel at such a moment; then he tore himself
away, to attend to duties which had now become
urgently pressing.
In point of fact, Sir Frederick Dashwood had made his
dispositions, and was advancing to the assault, being already
within the range of grape. For the obvious reason of preventing
the French from attempting to escape to the shore,
he chose to approach from that side himself, an arrangement
that best suited Raoul; who, foreseeing the probability
of the course, had made his own preparations with an eye
to such an event.
Of boats, there were eight in sight, though only seven
were drawing near, and were in line. Six had strong
crews, were armed, and were evidently fitted for action.
Of these, three had light boat-guns in their bows, while the
other three carried small-arms-men, only. The seventh
boat was the Terpsichore's gig, with its usual crew, armed;
though it was used by the commanding officer himself, as a
sort of cheval de bataille, in the stricter meaning of the term.
In other words, Sir Frederick Dashwood pulled through the
line in it, to give his orders, and encourage his people.
The eighth boat, which kept aloof, quite out of the range of
grape, was a shore-craft, belonging to Capri, in which
Andrea Barrofaldi, and Vito Viti had come, expressly, to
witness the capture, or destruction, of their old enemy.
When Raoul was taken in the Bay of Naples, these two
worthies fancied that their mission was ended—that they
might return, with credit, to Porto Ferrajo, and again hold
up their heads, with dignity and self-complacency, among
the functionaries of the island. But, the recent escape, and
the manner in which they had been connected with it,
entirely altered the state of things. A new load of responsibility
was to be met, and put down; and the last acquisition of
ridicule, promised to throw the first proofs of their simplicity
and dullness entirely into the shade. Had not Griffin
and his associates been implicated in the affair, it is probable
the vice-governatore and the podestâ would have been
still more obnoxious to censure; but, as things were, the
sly looks, open jests, and oblique innuendoes of all they met
in the ship, had determined the honest magistrates, to retire
to their proper pursuits, on terra-firmâ, at the earliest
occasion. In the mean time, to escape persecution, and
to obtain a modicum of the glory that was now to be earned,
they had hired a boat, and accompanied the expedition, in
the character of amateurs. It formed no part of their plan,
however, to share in the combat; a view of its incidents
being quite as much, as Vito Viti strongly maintained, when
his friend made a suggestion to the contrary, as was necessary
to vindicate their conduct and courage, in the judgment
of every Elban.
“Cospetto!” he exclaimed, in the warmth of opposition—
“Signor Andrea, your propositions are more in the spirit of
an unreflecting boy, than in that of a discreet vice-governatore.
If we take swords and muskets in the boat, as you
appear to wish, the devil may tempt us to use them; and
what does either of us know of such things? The pen is a
more befitting weapon for a magistrate, than a keen-edged
sword, or a foul-smelling piece of fire-arms. I am amazed
that your native sensibilities do not teach you this. There
is an indecency in men's mistaking their duties, and, of all
things on earth, heaven protect me from falling into such an
error! A false position is despicable.”
“Thou art warm, friend Vito, and that without occasion.
For my part, I think men should be prepared for any emergency
that may happen. History is full of examples in
which civilians and scholars, ay, even churchmen, have
distinguished themselves by feats of arms, on proper occasions;
and I confess to a philosophical curiosity to ascertain
the sensations with which men seek and expose life.”
“That's your besetting weakness, Signor Andrea, and
the emergency drives me so far to lose sight of the respect
that a podestâ owes to a vice-governatore, as to feel constrained
devil with your judgment. With about half of what you
possess, the Grand Duke couldn't boast of a more sensible
subject. As for history, I don't believe anything that's in
it; more especially since the nations of the north have begun
to write it. Italy once had histories; but where are
they now? For my part, I never heard of a man's fighting
who was not regularly bred to arms; unless it might be
some fellow who had reason to wish he had never been
born.”
“I can name you several men of letters, in particular,
whose fame as soldiers is only eclipsed by that earned by
their more peaceful labours, honest Vito—Michael Angelo
Buonaretti, for instance, to say nothing of various warlike
popes, cardinals, and bishops. But we can discuss this
matter after the battle is over. Thou seest the English are
already quitting their ships, and we shall be in the rear of
the combatants.”
“So much the better, Corpo di Bacco!—who ever heard
of an army that carries its brains in its head, like a human
being? No—no—Signor Andrea; I have provided myself
with a string of beads, which I intend to count over, with
aves and paters, while the firing lasts, like a good Catholic;
if you are so hot, and bent on making one in this battle, you
may proclaim in a loud voice one of the speeches of the
ancient consuls and generals, such as you will find them, in
any of the old books.”
Vito Viti prevailed. The vice-governatore was obliged
to leave the arms behind him, and this, too, without making
any great difference in the result of the day's fighting, inasmuch
as the boatmen employed, in addition to asking a triple
price for their time and labour, obstinately refused to go
nearer to the French than half a league. Distant as this
was, however, Raoul, while reconnoitring the enemy with a
glass, detected the presence of the two Elbans. He laughed
outright at the discovery, notwithstanding the many serious
reflections that naturally pressed upon his mind at such a
moment.
But this was not the time to indulge in merriment, and
the countenance of our hero almost immediately resumed
its look of care. Now, that he felt certain of the manner in
to give to all his subordinates. As has been said, the
principal point was to make the different guns support each
other; in order to do this effectually, it became necessary to
spring the lugger's broadside round more obliquely towards
the felucca; which accomplished, Raoul deemed his arrangements
complete.
Then followed the pause which ordinarily prevails between
preparation and the battle. This, in a vessel, is always a
period of profound and solemn stillness. So important to
concert, order, and intelligent obedience, in the narrow
compass, and amid the active evolutions of a ship, does
silence become at such moments, that one of the first duties
of discipline is to inculcate its absolute necessity; and a
thousand men shall be seen standing in their batteries, ready
to serve the fierce engines of war, without a sound arising
among them all, of sufficient force to still the washing of the
gentlest waves. It is true, the French were not now strictly
arrayed for a naval action; but they carried into the present
conflict, the habits and discipline of the peculiar branch of
service to which they belonged.
| CHAPTER XII. The wing-and-wing, or, Le Feu-follet | |