Adventure stories, English; France -- History -- Consulate and First Empire, 1799-1815 -- Fiction; Soldiers of fortune -- Fiction
The despatches I carried conveyed instructions the most precise and
accurate: the places for combined action of the two armies--information
as to the actual state of parties, and the condition of the native
forces, was contained in them. All that could instruct the newly-come
generals, or encourage them to decisive measures, were there; and yet,
on what narrow contingencies did their safe arrival depend! It was thus,
in exaggerating to myself the part I played--in elevating my humble
position into all the importance of a high trust--that I sustained my
drooping spirits, and acquired energy to carry me through fatigue and
exhaustion. During that night, and the greater part of the following
day, we walked on, almost without halt, scarcely eating, and, except by
an occasional glass of whisky, totally unrefreshed; and, I am free to
own, that my poor guide--a barelegged youth of about seventeen,
without any of those high-sustaining illusions which stirred within my
heart--suffered far less either from hunger or weariness than I did.
So much for motives. A shilling or two were sufficient to equalise
the balance against all the weight of my heroism and patriotic ardour
together.
A bright sun, and a sharp wind from the north, had succeeded to the
lowering sky and heavy atmosphere of the morning, and we travelled along
with light hearts and brisk steps, breasting the side of a steep ascent,
from the summit of which, my guide told me, I should behold the sea--the
sea! not only the great plain on which I expected to see our armament,
but the link which bound me to my country! Suddenly, just as I turned
the angle of a cliff, it burst upon my sight--one vast mirror of golden
splendour--appearing almost at my feet! In the yellow gleams of a
setting sun, long columns of azure-coloured light streaked its calm
surface, and tinged the atmosphere with a warm and rosy hue. While I
was lost in admiration of the picture, I heard the sound of voices close
beneath me, and, on looking down, saw two figures who, with telescope
in hand, were steadily gazing on a little bay that extended towards the
west.
At first, my attention was more occupied by the strangers than by the
object of their curiosity, and I remarked that they were dressed and
equipped like sportsmen, their guns and game-bags lying against the rock
behind them.
‘Do you still think that they are hovering about the coast, Tom?’ said
the elder of the two, ‘or are you not convinced, at last, that I am
right?’
‘I believe you are,’ replied the other; ‘but it certainly did not
look like it yesterday evening, with their boats rowing ashore every
half-hour, signals flying, and blue lights burning; all seemed to
threaten a landing.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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