The Ocean Cat's Paw Part 28

"_Halte la_!" cried the sentry.

But Uncle Paul's hand went to his pocket, and drawing out half-a-crown he pointed quickly at the falling rain and the archway under which they now stood, taking out his handkerchief the while, and beginning to brush off the drops which bedewed his coat.

The man glanced at the coin, then at his brother sentry, and both looked inward at the square behind them. The exchange of glances was very quick, and then the first sentry opened one hand, but kept it very close to his side, again looking inward to see that he was not observed, before grumbling out--

"_Eh bien! Restez_!" And then as if perfectly unconscious of the bribe he had received, he resumed his slow pace up and down under the shelter of the great archway.

It was all a matter of minutes, but long enough for the wind and rain to have gathered force, and while the former raved and shrieked, down came the latter in a sheet, or rather in a succession of sheets which made the roadways seem as if full of dancing chess p.a.w.ns, and the gullies turn at once into so many furious little torrents tearing down the slopes towards the harbour.

"Nice, isn't it, uncle?" said Rodd merrily.

"Nice!" grumbled Uncle Paul. "I don't know what I was thinking about to give way to you in such treacherous weather. Why, it's worse than ever.

How are we going to get back to the schooner?"

"Oh, it will soon be over, uncle, and if it isn't we must get to know where the nearest place is from that sentry, and make a rush for it to get some tea, and wait there till the shower is over."

"Shower!" said Uncle Paul. "It looks to me like a night of storm coming on, and as if we shan't get back to the schooner to-night."

"Well, it doesn't matter, uncle," cried the boy coolly. "There's sure to be a good hotel, and Captain Chubb will know why we haven't come back. As soon as there's a bit of a lull we will make a run for it, and we shall be able to get a lesson in French."

"Bah!" said Uncle Paul impatiently. "How the wind comes whistling through this archway! We shall be getting wet even here."

The two men on guard were evidently of the same opinion, for they turned to their sentry boxes and began to put on their overcoats, after standing their muskets inside.

But before this was half done, each s.n.a.t.c.hed up his piece again and faced the entrance, for all at once there was the clattering of hoofs in the cobbled paved street, and a cavalry officer, followed at a short distance by a couple of men, dashed up to the front and turned in under the archway, drenched with rain, the officer saying something sharply to one of the sentries.

The man replied by pointing to a doorway at the back of the great entrance, while the officer swung himself from his horse, threw the rein to one of his men, and then lifting his sabre-tache by the strap he gave it a swing or two to throw off the water from its dripping sides, and then opened the great pocket to peer inside as if to see that its contents were safe.

The next moment, as if satisfied, he let it fall to the full length of its slings, gave a stamp or two to shake off the water that dripped from him, and then raised his hands to give a twist to the points of his wet moustache. He scowled fiercely at Rodd the while, and then marched towards the doorway with the steel scabbard of his sabre clinking and clanking over the stones.

"Pretty good opinion of himself, Pickle," said Uncle Paul quietly.

"Yes, uncle; but what a pair of trousers--no, I mean long boots--no, I don't; I mean trousers.--Which are they, uncle?" added the boy, who was rather tickled by the size and the way in which they were finished off at the bottoms with leather as if they were jack-boots.

"Wait till he comes out, Pickle, and ask him," said the doctor dryly.

"No, thank you, uncle; my French is so bad," said the boy, with his eyes sparkling. "But, my word, they must have been galloping hard to escape the rain! Look at those poor horses. They are breathed."

Rodd had hardly spoken when they became fully aware that they had taken refuge in the entrance to the town barracks, for the notes of a bugle rang out, echoing round the inner square of the building, and seeming to be thrown back in a half-smothered way from wall to wall, while the wind and rain raged down more fiercely than ever.

"Something must be the matter," said Rodd, with his lips close to his uncle's ear.

"Seems like it, boy. That officer must have brought a dispatch."

The object of the bugle was shown directly, for in spite of the rain the interior of the barracks began to a.s.sume the aspect of some huge wasps'

nest that had suddenly been disturbed.

Soldiers came hurrying out into the rain, hurriedly putting on their overcoats; the great arched gateway filled up at once with men seeking its shelter, and the sentry who had received his half-crown came to roughly order the English intruders to go elsewhere; but it was only outside militarism, for he said in a low hurried tone in French--

"Run outside to the end of the barracks. Grand cafe."

"Come along, uncle. Never mind the rain," cried Rodd, catching at his uncle's wrist, as he fully grasped the sentry's meaning; and stepping outside the archway they ran together, or rather, were half carried by the shrieking wind, for some thirty or forty yards, almost into the doorway of a large lit-up building, for already it seemed to be almost night.

"Never mind the rain, indeed!" grumbled Uncle Paul. "Why, I'm nearly soaked. Oh, come, we have got into civilised regions, at all events;"

for a couple of waiters, seeing their plight, literally pounced upon them and hurried them through the building into a great kitchen where a huge fire was burning and the smell of cookery saluted their nostrils.

The attentions of the waiters of what was evidently one of the princ.i.p.al hotels of the town were very welcome, and a glance teaching them that their visitors were people of some standing, they made use of their napkins to remove as much of the superabundant moisture as was possible, and then furnished themselves with a fresh relay to operate upon their backs.

"Queer, isn't it, uncle? I am quite dry in front. My word, how the rain did come down!"

"Messieurs will dine here?" said one of the waiters smilingly.

"_Oh, oui, pour certain_" replied Uncle Paul. "If you don't mind, Pickle."

"Mind, uncle? Oh, yes, of course. I am horribly hungry."

"You always are, my boy. Well, we must make the best of a bad business," continued the doctor, as, nodding to the waiter, he moved a little closer to the fire and turned his back, an example followed by Rodd.

"It makes a dreadful time, monsieur," said the smiling waiter. "Will he choose, or trust his servant to prepare a dinner upon the field of which the English milor' will be proud?"

"You speak capital English," said the doctor, rather sarcastically.

"I have been many times in public in London."

"Ah, that's right. Then give us a snug little dinner while we dry ourselves. But what's the meaning of all that upset at the barracks next door?"

"It is not quite that I know, sir," said the man eagerly; "but two officers came in upon the instant to put their cloaks where they should not water themselves so much, and I hear them say, a dispatch come quickly for monsieur the Governor to seize upon a s.h.i.+p. Oh, faith of a man! Hark at that!"

For there was a sudden crash and an echoing roar, while some of the utensils in the great kitchen clattered together, and a piece of earthenware fell from a shelf upon the stone floor, to be s.h.i.+vered to atoms.

"_Tonnerre, eh_?" said the doctor.

"_Non, non, monsieur_" cried the man, relapsing into his native tongue for a moment. "It is what you English gentlemen call a great gun from the fort; and look, look! The poor _cuisiniere_ much alarm, as you call it."

For just then, as if catching the contagion from the shrieking of the storm, one of the cook-maids threw herself back into a chair and began to scream.

It was a busy scene for a few minutes while the frightened hysterical woman was hurried out, while with the storm seeming to increase in violence, and amid the trampling of armed men outside, who were hurrying from the barracks, the two English visitors gradually picked up sc.r.a.ps of information which explained the excitement that in spite of the storm was going on outside.

"Messieurs would like to see," said the friendly waiter. "They will come up-stairs to the long _salle_ whose windows give upon the harbour."

"But what's the matter?" cried Rodd. "Is there a wreck?"

"A wreck, sare?" said the waiter, shaking his head. "No, I know not wreck."

"Has a s.h.i.+p come ash.o.r.e and is breaking up?"

"Ha, ha! No, no, no, no, no, no, no! You would say _naufrage. Non, non, non_! It is a sheep in the harbour; a foreign spy. They say it has come to set fire to the town."