Sir Isumbras at the FordBroster, D. K. (Dorothy Kathleen)
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Sir Isumbras at the Ford
Broster, D. K. (Dorothy Kathleen)
English fiction -- 20th century; Historical fiction
But Fortune, after whom Fortuné de la Vireville had been somewhat
ironically named, had all his life taken away with one hand what
she had given him with the other. So now she granted to him to
get clear of the town of Abbeville, to find unmolested the way
to St. Valéry, to meet thereon none to question or stay him, to
arrive there a little before six, when the life of the small port
was already bustling, to perceive, lounging on the quayside, a
seafaring individual whose countenance seemed to promise accessibility
to a bribe . . . and to overhear, at that very moment, a piece
of news which made all attempt at bribing him useless. For it was
quite clear, from a conversation going on, within easy earshot,
between two master mariners, one of whom had evidently just come
into harbour, that the greater part of the Brest squadron had come
up in the night, and was even now cruising between Dieppe and
Boulogne.
"Nine sail of the line, and I don't know how many frigates." Was
ever such ill-luck! The fugitives were clean cut off, that way,
from the shores of England, while on the road behind them were
hastening, or would shortly hasten, the justly-incensed officials
of the town of Abbeville. La Vireville knew an instant's real
despair, and his fingers tightened involuntarily on the small hand
in his. They _must_ get back to England. But they could not--at
least not by the way of his choice, the most direct and obvious
way, the Channel. That path was barred before them. Of course
there was another road. If they could only reach that outpost of
England, Jersey! But it was the deuce of a long journey, and since
the sea was now denied them, they must go by land till they reached
the coast of the Cotentin, a far more hazardous route, armed though
La Vireville now was with the fairly extensive powers conveyed to
him by M. Duchâtel's papers. . . . Well, they must make the best
of a bad business, and the first step was to remove themselves
from the harbour, where curious glances were already beginning
to be cast at him and his small companion. He must leave as few
traces as possible for the inquirers from Abbeville when they came.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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