"I think you might be able to manage for us, Brenon," Jean said.
"Mon Dieu! it is--"
Jean held up his hand sharply.
"Yes, it is I, Citizen Gallon, from Vallet. It is not often that I stir so far from home, but I had business here."
"Well, well, I will see what I can do for you, comrade; but as you know, I don't profess to take in horses. My clients come from the waterside, and generally my stable is full of their baskets and ropes. However, I will see what I can do. I will tie them up in that shed, for the present, and then clear out a stall for them afterwards."
The horses were led to a shed, encumbered with fishing gear of all sorts.
"What madness has seized you, mon capitaine, to put your head into this lion's den?"
"I will tell you presently, Brenon, when we get inside. I am glad that you are able to take the horses in. We don't want to be stared at, or talked about. We have come along the river bank and, so far, we have been quite unnoticed."
"All the better, all the better; to be noticed here means to have one's head cut off. Now, I will take you to a little room upstairs, where there is no chance of anyone seeing you."
"Get us up, if you can, without our being noticed by your servants, Brenon. We shall be differently dressed when we come down again."
The man nodded.
"The boy is in the front room," he said. "There are three or four fishermen there, having their morning glass. I have no other servants. My wife does what is needful, for I was obliged to discharge the girl we had, everything has been so slack of late."
He led them up to a chamber looking on to the quay. Jean was puzzled at the man's manner, for he spoke in a confused and hesitating way. When he closed the door behind him, he stood rubbing his hands together nervously.
"Have you heard lately from Nantes, Monsieur Jean?"
"No, it is five weeks since I had any news; except, of course, what was known about the troops that were here. What is it, old friend? Is there bad news?"
"There is terrible news," Brenon said, "so bad that I don't know how to tell you."
"Speak out, old friend. I have had one blow so heavy that I can scarcely be hurt more than I am."
"Well, then, monsieur, your father has been arrested and is in the prison; and you know what that means!"
"Father arrested!" Jean exclaimed; "on what grounds? He never expressed an opinion as to public affairs. That at heart he hated what has been going on, I know; but he never spoke strongly, even to me, and when I have heard his opinion asked, he has always replied that he was a trader, and that a man could not give his attention to business if he worried himself over politics. He attended to his trade, and left it to those who liked, to manage the government of the country.
"What of my mother and sister?"
"They are safe, monsieur. He sent them off a fortnight before, in disguise, to La Rochelle; at least, so I have heard from the fishermen. And as the Henriette was lying there at the time, and sailed two days after, there is not much doubt but that they sailed in her for England.
"Your father was denounced before the committee of public safety as one who was hostile to the Convention. He was accused of having sent large sums of money to England, and was believed to have sent his wife and daughter there also, with the intention, of course, of following them; and the fact that you were known to be fighting in the ranks of the brigands, as they call the Vendeans, was also mentioned as an additional crime on his part."
"Then we have a double task to carry out, Leigh," Jean said grimly.
"Now I will tell you what we came here for, Brenon. Six days ago a small party of the Blue cavalry came, at night, to my chateau. I was away, but they carried off my wife as a prisoner, and burnt the house to the ground. So we have come here to see if we cannot get her out of prison.''
"You have thought of such a thing as that?" the man exclaimed in surprise. "Ah, monsieur! It is well nigh an impossibility that you have undertaken. The villains know that there are hundreds of men, friends of the prisoners with whom they have crowded the jails, who would tear them down stone by stone, if they had the power; but in addition to the prison warders--not the men that used to be there, but men taken from the lowest class in the town--the prisons are watched by what they call the volunteers, fifteen hundred men belonging to the scum of the city--the men from the slaughterhouses, the skinners', and the tan yards Some of these are ever on guard round the prisons, night and day.
"There have been great changes here. A year ago, almost everyone thought that the Assembly was going to do wonderful things. No one knew exactly what. According to what they said, everyone was to be able to eat meat, seven days a week, to wear good clothes, and to do just as much work as pleased him and no more. Even the fishermen and sailors were fools enough to believe it.
"But there is a great change now. At first they approved of cutting off the heads of those who, they were told, were the cause of all misery and poverty; but when, every day, fresh prisoners were brought in, and it was not the nobles only but quiet citizens--tradesmen, manufacturers, doctors, and advocates--and every morning a score were carried out to be guillotined, men began to change their opinion; especially when they found that the more heads were cut off, the less work there was and the poorer they became. They began to talk among themselves and, when it came to executing women and children, as well as men, they turned round altogether.
"More than once the fishermen and sailors have tried to rescue prisoners on their way to execution. The commissioners of the republic have been hooted in the streets and, if they had had arms in their hands, our men would have turned the tables; but the town is full of troops now and, worse than all, they have enrolled this corps of volunteers, who are the terror of the place. They have spies everywhere, and no one dares whisper a word against the commissioners or the executions for, if but two or three men are standing by, the chances are that one of them is a spy."
"But surely my brother might have prevented my father's arrest, Brenon? He was one of the leading men at that Jacobin Club."
"He is still one of the leading men of the party," Brenon said gloomily. "He is established in your father's house, now, and is on the most intimate terms with the commissaries of the Convention."
"Is Monsieur Desailles still here? He was a young advocate, and a member of the Jacobin Club."
"Yes, he is a member still: but he is not in good odour with the extreme party. He is at the head of what they call the moderates. They say that sometimes these try to defend accused persons, and that is considered a terrible offence by the others. I should never be surprised to hear that he himself, and those with him, have been denounced as enemies of the state. This is an awful time, monsieur, and Heaven only knows what we shall come to.
"Now, is there anything that I can do for you, captain? You know well that you have but to say the word and that, whatever it is, I would do it, even if I were cut to pieces the minute afterwards."
"Thank you, old friend. It was because I knew that you were trusty and true that I came here. Now, the first thing that we want is fishermen's clothes. We only disguised ourselves in those things in order to pass safely through the Blues, and be able to cross the ferry. For the present they have done their work, and now we want a disguise that we can go about in, unnoticed. Of course, we don't want new things."
"I can get them easily enough, monsieur. My customers are all hard up. I know pretty well which are true men, and which are not."
"In the next place, I should like to buy or hire a boat to be at my disposal, as long as I stay here."
"There are boats and to spare, captain. Fishing goes on because men must live; though it can hardly be called living, for the prices of everything are fixed by law, now, and are fixed so low that the men can scarce earn enough to buy bread for themselves, and their families. Still, there are boats in plenty. Men have come down from towns and villages higher up, for they say that the troops are under no control and, when the boats come in after a night's fishing, they come down and help themselves and, if a man ventures to grumble, he gets a musket ball to pay him for his fish. The men here, at first, were against their fishing between this place and the sea; but the authorities stepped in, and said that the more food, the better for the people; and as the price was fixed, the men here saw that it made no difference to them. Still, like our own men, they are doing badly enough, and one could buy a boat for a mere song."
"It would be better to buy one from those men, Brenon, because the fact of our being strangers would not then be noticed. I want one rowing boat, as fast a craft as you can pick out.
"I also want to hire a boat with a cabin that will hold us both. Of course it will be a sailing boat, say of three or four tons burden. I intend that we shall live on board. It might be noticed if two strange sailors were often coming in and out of your place; whereas, if we were in a boat moored against the bank, no one would notice us. If you can get hold of such a boat, with a couple of men who seem to you to be honest fellows, strangers to the place, it will be a great thing; and we could occasionally go down the river, and do a little fishing."
"All that can be managed easily enough, captain. I know of one boat, just such a size; owned by two men, Rouget and Medart, who sailed in the Henriette for years, and only left her when you did, as they had wives and families here, and knew that she would not put in again for a long time. You could trust them as you do me."
"That would be the very thing. Make arrangements with them, on any terms they like. I will take her by the week. She carries a boat, I suppose?"
"Of course, monsieur, they could not do without one."
"If she is fast, well and good. If not, tell them to buy the fastest they can find. They can sell their own boat in part payment, or they can get her up on the quay and let her lie there, until we have gone, when they can either sell her or the new one.
"However, the clothes are the first thing. We cannot venture out in these, in the first place, because we might be questioned; and secondly, because we might be recognized; whereas in a fisherman's dress, with a wide oilskin hat and our faces dirtied somewhat, I don't think that anyone could know us."
They remained quiet until evening, and then sallied out in the disguises Brenon had obtained for them. Their first visit was to the house of Jean's friend, Desailles. It was arranged that Leigh should not go in, as Desailles would probably speak more freely to Jean, if alone. Jean had written his name on a piece of paper, folded it up, and carefully sealed it and, when he reached the house, he handed this to the woman who opened the door.
"This is for Citizen Desailles," he said. "I will wait. He may want to see me."
In a minute the servant returned, and requested him to come in. He was shown into a room where Desailles was sitting, with some papers before him. He did not speak until the servant closed the door. Then he leapt up, and held out both hands to his visitor.
"My dear Jean," he said, "what imprudence, what madness for you to venture here!"
"I don't think there is any fear of my being discovered. Even you, yourself, would scarcely know me."
"I know you, now you have taken that hat off; but I own that I did not recognize you before, and thought for the moment that you were but a messenger.
"Please do not talk loud. For aught I know, my servant has been bribed to act as a spy upon me, and may have her ear at the keyhole. To tell you the truth, Jean, things are coming to a crisis at the club. The violent party get more violent every day, and I am heartily sick of this butchers' work. I feel that, at any moment, I may be denounced."
"Then why on earth do you stay here, Jules? Why don't you come and throw in your lot with us?"
"I should have laughed at the idea, a year ago," he said; "for at that time, although I objected strongly to the doings in Paris, I yet believed that much good would come of the changes. Now I know that nothing has come of them but murder and misery, and the madness increases rather than diminishes. Hopeless as I own your struggle seems, to me, I would at least rather be killed in battle than executed here; but I would rather still get to England, if I could. As you know, I can play the violin well, and might be able to support myself, by its aid, if nothing else turned up."
"If you are thinking of going, Desailles, I will give you a letter to my father-in-law, at Poole. I hear that my mother and sister have escaped, and they have doubtless gone there, so you will not find yourself friendless.
"And now for the purpose that has brought me here. I had no idea, until I arrived, that these wretches had imprisoned my father; who is the last man to interfere in politics, and has, I am sure, never uttered a word of enmity against the Convention. I came to endeavour to rescue my wife who, as no doubt you have heard, has been seized and carried off in my absence, and my house laid in ashes. I suppose she has been brought here."
"Yes, I am aware of it," Jules said. "The party of horse who did it were specially sent from here. Of course you were the principal object of the expedition, but the officer was ordered to bring her, too--in the first place as your wife, in the second as an Englishwoman and therefore, of course, an enemy of France. You were denounced to the club; and as you were known to be one of the gentlemen who had joined the insurrection, and were fighting with Cathelineau and others, I knew that it would be useless to raise a voice on your behalf; having the satisfaction of feeling sure that you would be away from home when they got there, and hoping that your wife would receive notice of their coming, before they entered the house."
"Has she been brought here yet?"
"Yes, she arrived three days ago. She is in the old city prison, where your father is also confined."
"So far that is fortunate," Jean said.
"Now, how about my father? I should have thought that Jacques' influence would have been sufficient to protect him."
The young advocate smiled bitterly.
"Monsieur Jacques Martin poses as a Brutus, Jean. When your father was denounced in the club, he rose and said that he should take no part in the deliberations, that he was before all other things a patriot, and that he would not permit private affection to interfere with his duty as a citizen. In fact, my dear Jean, painful as it must be for you to hear, my opinion is that your brother has all along been playing a deep game, and that his object has been to grasp the whole of your father's business and property. It was a friend of his who denounced you at the club, when I before gave you warning; it was members of his clique who stirred the authorities up to send a small body of cavalry to capture you, and it was they also who denounced your father. Your brother is by far the most powerful of the committee of safety, as well as in the club. He assumes an air of perfect disinterestedness, and of a passionate love for the republic. His vote is always given for death. I think he takes Saint Just as his model, and repeats his assertion, that it is only by the destruction of the enemies of France that France can be freed.
"There is a cold bloodedness about him that sets my nerves tingling. I believe, myself, that the discovery that your father had largely reduced his stocks, and had sent the proceeds to England, decided him in either agreeing to, or bringing about, this denunciation; and that he deferred it only until he found that your mother and sister had escaped. That freed his hands, to some extent. Had they remained here, he would have been in a difficult position. Even in these days, when we are sated with horrors, he could hardly have permitted his mother and sister to be executed when, as everyone knew, he had power to save them. On the other hand, if they had remained they would have been obstacles to the success of his plan. As it is now, your father's house and all property belonging to him were declared confiscated; but the committee of safety passed a vote that, seeing the inestimable service rendered to the state by his eldest son, they would be bestowed upon him as a token of gratitude for his well doing."
"You scarcely surprise me," Jean said gloomily. "I never liked my brother--we had not a feeling in common, and for years he has never seemed to belong to the family; and certainly, since the troubles began, he has not set foot in my father's house. Still, I hardly believed that he would be such a scoundrel. I abhorred his opinions, but believed that he was at least sincere. I did not see what he could gain by a revolution. Now I understand his character better, and can see how cleverly he has played his cards. I cannot reckon myself with the scoundrel, deeply as he has wronged me and my father; but I should welcome the news that retribution had fallen upon him, by some other hand.
"And now, Jules, can you give me any advice whatever as to how to set about my scheme of getting them both out of prison?"
Jules shook his head.
"I fear, my poor friend, that that is impossible. The prison is, as you know, strong. There are, I should say, some forty warders, all ruffians and scoundrels. Any attempt to bribe even one of them would, almost to a certainty, be denounced; and it would probably be necessary to have at least half a dozen in the plot. As to force, it is out of the question. The building is very strong. There are always some twenty or thirty of the volunteers on guard outside, and an alarm would bring up five hundred in a quarter of an hour, to say nothing of the troops. What force could you bring that could have even a remote chance of success?"
"I have Leigh with me. You know him well, Jules. I rely much more upon him than I do on myself. He is full of plans and contrivances, and has rendered extraordinary services during the war. He has with him, or rather will have in the course of a day or so, a band of forty lads, of whom he is the captain, who have acted as scouts to Cathelineau. They will be in hiding, a mile or two out of the town."
Jules lifted his eyebrows.
"I am afraid that such a force as that would be of very little use to you, Jean--in fact, of no use whatever. If you had five hundred men, and could gather them for a sudden attack on the jail, and had a couple of cannon to blow in the gate, I should say it might be possible; and even then the chance of its being all done, and the fugitives got safely away, before the arrival of some three thousand troops would be very doubtful."
At this moment the servant brought in a note.
"Who brought this?" Monsieur Desailles asked.
"It was a woman, monsieur. She did not wait for an answer."
The advocate opened it. It was written in pencil.
"Dear Jules, Martin is on his feet denouncing you. Hostile vote certain. Escape at once."
After reading it, he handed it to Jean.
"That settles it," he said. "I am with you. Where are you staying?"
Martin told him, and said:
"It will never do for you to stay there. But I have arranged for a boat, with a cabin. We shall go on board at once. You can come with us. I had better go out first."
"It is better that we should not go together for, if the woman reports that I went off with a fisherman, a search might be made in all the boats. I will join you on the quay opposite the inn you speak of. I shall need a quarter of an hour to burn some papers. I have already a valise packed, with a couple of thousand francs, which is all the money I could obtain without creating suspicion. I have seen this coming for some time, and had no intention of making a martyr of myself, when my doing so would be of no advantage."
"Don't delay too long, Jules. I shall be in a fever until you join me."
"I know their way, Jean. There will be a half a dozen speeches, each vying with the other in abusing me. My friends will see the uselessness of trying to defend me, when the terrorists are three to one against them. If my friend slipped out, as is probable, directly your brother rose, I can calculate on a good hour. Actually, the club have no power whatever to order arrests, but they are so closely allied now with the committee of safety that they do not stand upon legalities, except in cases likely to attract a great deal of public attention."
Jules went to the door and let his visitor out. Jean joined Leigh.
"Desailles is going to join us. He has just been denounced, and will be with us in a quarter of an hour, on the wharf. It is very lucky that Brenon completed the arrangements today for the boat, and that Rouget and Medart will be expecting us this evening. I told them that I might not come until tomorrow morning, but this settles it. There will be a sharp search for Desailles, as soon as it is found that he is gone; and it is just as well that we should be off, too. I am very glad that I had the boat taken from her usual berth to a spot half a mile higher up, because there are sure to be inquiries whether any fishing boats put out during the night."
They walked fast back to the inn. Brenon, on being told what had happened, agreed that it would certainly be safest for them to go on board.
"I have two friends living here," he said, "both of whom are carriers, and keep eight or ten horses. Tomorrow morning, early, I will take one of your horses to one and the second to the other. No one will notice them there, whereas if a search is made--and I have no doubt a search will be made of the houses near the river--they will light upon them in my shed, and they would not believe my story that I had two citizens from Vallet living here--in the first place because it is an unlikely place to put them up, and in the second because no such citizens would be forthcoming. It is lucky that you told the men to get a cask of wine and a store of provisions on board, before starting.
"Well, you know, captain, that whenever you choose to land again, my house is at your disposal; and I will carry out what we arranged, that I should get together a score of men I can trust, and to each of whom I can promise a hundred francs, for a night's work in a good cause."
They packed up their former disguises, which might come in useful again. Their pistols they had already about them. They then went out on to the wharf again and, a few minutes later, were joined by Jules Desailles.
"I have been nervous ever since I left you," Jean Martin said, as his friend shook hands with Leigh. "I was afraid that a quarter of an hour's delay might be fatal."
"I lost no time. But I feel sure that it will be an hour before anyone is down after me; they are all too fond of listening to their own voices to close any discussion, in less than an hour after the proposer has sat down. I hope the boat is not far off, for this portmanteau of mine is heavy, I can assure you."
Martin took it up and swung it on to his shoulder.
"No, my dear Jean, I won't have it."
"Nonsense, Jules. The weight is nothing to me though, no doubt, to a man who never takes any exercise it would feel heavy."
"To say the truth, it is heavier than I expected. I went on packing up everything that I did not like to leave behind, until the thing was crammed full; and after I had locked it, and went to lift it, I was thunderstruck with the weight."
"Did your servant see you go out?"
"No; I rang for her, and told her that I was going out, and did not suppose that I should be back till late, and that she could go to bed when she liked--which I knew would be a few minutes after she got permission. She is a sort of human dormouse and, nineteen times out of twenty, I have had to wait for my breakfast. I was in a fright as I walked down here, lest some one who knew me might run against me, but happily I saw no one."
"They would not recognize you, if they had seen you," Jean laughed. "The idea of Monsieur Desailles, advocate, a gentleman somewhat particular as to his attire, dragging a portmanteau weighing a hundred pounds through the streets, would seem an impossibility."
"I have left that phase of my existence behind me," Jules laughed; "henceforth I am a man of war, a rebel, a brigand, as they call you, prepared for any desperate adventure, ready to rush up to a cannon's mouth."
"That is right, Desailles. I am glad to see that you take things so cheerfully."
"My dear Jean, I feel as if I walk on air since you have taken my portmanteau. I have been living in a state of suspense for months, hating these wretches and their ways; and knowing that I was gradually falling into bad odour with them, and that the blow would certainly fall, ere long. Over and over again I have thought of making my escape from it all; but you see, I am not a man of action, as you are. I did not see how the matter was to be effected--where to go or what to do. I was like a boy shivering at the edge of the bank, and afraid to plunge in; then another comes behind him and pushes him into the water, and he strikes out, and finds that it is not as cold as he expected, and forthwith enjoys it. I have cut loose from the past. I have become a rover and a waif, and I feel as lighthearted as a boy.
"Now, let me get hold of one end of that trunk, again."
"I have got it all right and, as you see, I have not yet changed shoulders. And if I want help, it is to Leigh I should turn, and not to you. After three months' campaigning, it may be that you will be able to hold up an end as well as he can, but you certainly cannot do so now. In another hundred yards we shall be at the boat, and they must be on the lookout for us."
In a short time they saw a fishing craft, with a boat astern of her. A man was standing on the deck.
"It is a dark night, my friends," he said.
"It will be lighter in the morning," Jean replied.
The man leapt ashore.
"Ah, captain, I am glad, indeed, to see you. Brenon did not tell us, until after he had made a bargain with us, who wanted our boat, or we should not have talked about payment. Not likely, after having sailed with you since you were a boy of fourteen."
"No, indeed," said another man, who had just raised his head out of the cabin hatch; "and we are not going to take it, either."
"We will talk about that afterwards," Jean said, as he stepped on board.
"I doubted whether it was you, captain, for Brenon had only spoken to us of two; and when I saw three of you, I thought that you must belong to one of the boats higher up. There are two or three of them, a bit farther on."
"I did not know, myself, until half an hour ago. This is my friend Monsieur Desailles, who is in the same danger from these butchers of the Convention as I am. First pass this box down, and then we will follow it."
They gathered in the little cabin. It was but some seven feet long.
"It will be close work, captain," Rouget said.
"It will do very well," Jean said cheerfully. "There is room for two of us to sleep on the lockers, and one on the floor. You have got the small boat behind you, I see."
"She is there," the man said, "and a good boat she is. We bought her from two fishermen, who had come down from Saint Florent. She is very well for up there, but she is scarce fit for fishing far below Nantes."
"I am glad that she did not belong to this place," Martin said. "The fishermen might have been surprised to see two strange men in a boat they knew; but so many have come down here, from the towns above, that we shall excite no attention. Now, the first thing to do is to get up sail, and drop down two miles past the town; then you can go about your fishing as usual. Only one of us will show upon deck at a time.
"Now, as to the matter on which we are here. Brenon told you that it was a dangerous business for which you would be required?"
"He told us that it was to hide two gentlemen whom the committee of public safety would be glad to get hold of; and I knew, of course, that to do such a thing was dangerous, but we did not like it any the worse for that. All honest men are horrified at the way these commissioners from Paris are carrying things on, and would be glad enough to aid in getting anyone out of their hands."
"But the danger is greater, in our case, than ordinary," Jean went on. "You heard that my father had been imprisoned?"
"We heard it, captain, and savage it made us, as you may guess. Everyone spoke well of him and, being your father, of course we felt it all the more."
"But that is not all, lads. A party of their cavalry went to my chateau in my absence, burnt it down, and brought my wife here a prisoner. Now, it is absolutely certain that they will both of them be condemned, for they have a personal enemy on the committee of public safety, and they will be murdered, unless we can get them out; and I and my brother Leigh, whom you all know, have come for that purpose."
"Well, captain, you can count upon both of us, heart and soul. But I don't see how it is going to be done. The prison is a strong place, and well guarded. I have no doubt that we could count on getting twenty stout men, along the wharf, but that would not be much use. They have more than that on guard and, before we could get into the prison, they would come swarming down, any number of them."
"We have forty young fellows from my neighbourhood, who will by tomorrow be hidden away in the wood, a mile and a half higher up the river."
"That will be a help, sir; but even with two hundred we should not be able to do much."
"We shall have plenty of time to talk it over, afterwards. Get the sail up and drop down the river. Keep close to the opposite bank. It is important that we should not be noticed, as we pass the town."
"Well, sir, there is hardly air enough to fill the sails. I should say that we had best tow her across to the other side, in the small boat; and then drift till we are fairly beyond the town. We are safe not to be seen then."
"Perhaps that will be the best plan, Rouget."
The men went out and, in two or three minutes, the sound of the oars could be heard.
"I can't say that the lookout is very hopeful, Leigh."
"I did not think that anyone would think it so, Jean; but it seems to me that it is just because everyone seems so confident that the prison is safe from attack, that we shall have a chance. The thing that is troubling me most is where we can get a barrel of gunpowder. We must have powder to blow open the gate. I expect that any of the doors we may find locked, inside, will give way if a pistol is fired through the keyhole; but to blow in the main gate of the prison we must get powder, and a good deal of it. That, however, is a matter in which we shall find that money will be of use.
"There are too many officials in the prison for us to hope to get any one out, without eight or ten being in the plot; and as these, we hear, are all fellows who are heart and soul with the Convention, it is not possible to attempt it in that way. But when, as you know, the Blues succeeded in bribing a Vendean to tamper with our guns, it ought not to be such a difficult thing to bribe one of these fellows, who is in charge of ammunition, to let us have a barrel or two of powder."
"That certainly seems to hold out a prospect of success, so far, Leigh. I have never been able to understand your confidence in success, but certainly the first indication of your plan seems to promise well. Now, let us hear some more of it."
"Well, this is my idea, Jean. I will choose a windy night, and send Andre and Pierre, with twenty of the boys, into the worst part of the town. Each shall carry a ball of yarn dipped in turpentine, mixed with sulphur and other inflammable things. They shall also carry another ball, having but a thin coating of the yarn, and powder inside so as to explode. When the clock strikes two, we will say, each of them will smash the window of some store, light both balls, and put them in. I want the explosion of one ball to scare anyone who may be sleeping there half out of their senses, and make them rush out of the house; which will leave plenty of time for the other ball to set on fire anything that it may light upon. Twenty fires, starting at once at different spots, will create a fearful scare. Many of the guards outside the prison--all of whom are drawn from the slums--will have come from that quarter and, as they have no idea of discipline, will, when they see the flames mounting up, leave their posts and rush off to see to the safety of their homes.
"Choosing a windy night, you may be sure that the fires would burn fast, and that the rest of the volunteers, and the National Guard, would soon be so busy that they would not trouble themselves about the prison, one way or the other. Thus I calculate that, of the fifty men on guard round the prison, there would not be twenty left at the outside; and they would be so busy staring at and talking of the fire that, with a sudden surprise, they could all be disposed of without difficulty. Then the gates of the prison would be blown in, and we should rush in, shoot down all the warders we meet--keeping one only as a guide--make straight for the rooms where your father and Patsey are confined, release them and as many others as the time will allow, telling them to rush down to the wharf and seize boats, or to escape in whichever way they like; while you, with your father and Patsey, would make straight down to our boat; while I, with the boys, would follow you and cover your retreat, if any of the Blues came up to pursue you."
"Leigh, you are a genius!" Martin exclaimed, bringing his hand down on the lad's shoulder with a force that almost knocked him from his seat.
"What do you think of that, Desailles, for a plan? I told you that I relied upon Leigh's head more than my own, and you see I had good reason for doing so. I doubt whether it could be done with his forty boys, but if we can get the powder, it seems to me that, with half as many sailors to help us, there is no reason why it should not succeed."
"But you might burn half the town down," Desailles said, gravely.
"If I was sure that it would burn the whole of it down, I should not mind," Leigh exclaimed. "But there is not much fear of that. If it cleared out the whole of the slums, where the supporters of the gang of murderers they call the committee of public safety live, I should rejoice most heartily. As there are several wide streets between them and the business quarters, and as they will have all the soldiers of the town to assist in fighting the flames, I do not think that there will be any fear of the fire spreading very far."
"Well, at any rate, Leigh, you have hit on a plan that offers a good chance of success. We shall find out, in a day or two, how many of the boatmen we can get to aid us, and how far they will be disposed to go. We must learn, in some way, how long it is likely to be before it is absolutely necessary to act. If we find that there is time, we can send some of the boys off to the army, to bring their fathers and brothers back with them. The sixty might not be enough, but with a hundred of our men, I think we should be pretty sure of success."