The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 2, 1898, Page 18

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JANUARY 2, WITH HIS SWEETHEART HE DEFIED THE FRENCH FLEET. Story of a Gunner Who Deserted Rather Than Attack His Native Place, and . the Strange Consequences That Followed. ~ -e HE Rock was a wall, and the wall was an island that had once been a long promontory, like a battlement, jutting out hundreds of yards into the gulf. At one point it was pierced by an archway. Its sides were al- most sheer; its top was flat and lev Upon the sides there was no verdure; upon the top centuries had made a green ficld. The wild geese as they flew north, myriad flocks of gulls, gannets and cormorants, and all man ner of fowl of the ses, had builded upon the top until it grew rich with grass and shrub. The nations of the air sent their legions here to bivouac. The discord o: a thousand languages might be heard far out to sea or far in upon the land. Mil- lions of the feathered races swarmed there; sometimes the air above was darkened by clouds of them. No fog beil on a rock-bound coast might warn mari- ners more ominously than these battal- ions of adventurers on the Perce Rock. No human being had ever mounted to this eyrie nor scaled the bulwarks of this feathered Eden. Three hundred feet below shipbuilders might toil and fisher- men hover, but the lofty home of the marauders of the air had not yet suf- fered the invasion of man. It was the legend that this mighty palisade had once been a bridge of rock stretched across the gulf, builded by the gods of the land who smote with granite arms and drove back defeated the appalling gods of the sea. Generations of fishermen had looked upon the yellowish, reddish limestone of the Perce Rock with an adventuring ey but it would seem that not even the tiny clinging hoof of a chamois or of a wild goat might find a foothold upon the straight sides of it. Three hundred feet was a long way to climb hand over hand, so for centuries the Perce Rock in the wide St. Lawrence Guif remained soli- tary and unconquered. But there came a day when man, the gpoiler, single-handed and alone, should assail it. This is the tale that is told of it: A hundred years ago, when Engla fighting France, the French sq fresh from destroying the fishing stagons on the Islands of St. Pierre and Mique- lon, was lying off the coast of Gaspe, near to this vast rock called Perce. Just beyond, in Mal Baie, was good shelter, but because of the fishing posts at Perce, where the commissariat could get fresh fish and food, Richery, the French ad- miral, chose to lie in the tideway be- fore Perce Rock. The master gunner of the admiral's ship was.a Jerseyman, wko being in St. Malo had been pre: d. into the service. 1In vain he protested. There was his Norman accent, his captors said; that w evidence enough, and if he was not a citizen of France he should be, for French was his language. S0 he was carried off in the Invincible, and with her sailed the seas looking for a British ship to fight. His name was Antonio Robichon, and he had owned a fishing brig called the Charming Nancy, which sailed year after year to this very port of Perce, bringing Jersey fishermen, and carrying away again the dried cod to Europe. When he was pressed into the French navy at St. Malo, his brother, who was first mate of the Charming Nancy, took her on to Gaspe on his brother's business just the same as if the brother hunself were sail- ing her. Meanwhile Antonio was waiting in the tideway where he had come and gone for ten years, seeing on the shore the fishing posts of the great Comjuniper tea, and danced with the Master's daughters. As Antonio leaned on his great gun, looking out to the shore, the first day the squadron arrived off Perce, he won- dered if the daughters were there now; whether Minois, the youngest—Minois the madcap, Minois, the hunter, who shot deer like & Mohican—was still there. It was now two years since he had seen this bay of Perce; she was seventeen then, she was nineteen now—Minois Carnaval, the Master's youngest daughte An- toine had asked her for a kiss when he bade her good-by last, and she had laughed in his face; but he also remem- bered that she had waved her red 'ker- chief from the roof of the fishing-post as the Charming Nancy sailed away, and that she remained on the roof as long as the Charming Nancy could be seen. Was she still there? And if she was what would she think of him—a gunner now on a French ship. He might be or- dered to bombard the very house where she lived, might indeed fire the shot which should kill her! She was French, but she was Canadian, and her country was now England. Two generations had nearly passed since Canada had been yielded up to the English, and in that time Jersey Normans, more English than the English, had chiefly occupied the dis- trict called Gaspe. Antoine studied the matter hard, and the more he thought of it the harder to crack the nut seemed. His patriotism was not of that sort which smiles at martyrdom. He was of the easygoing kind who do things because they are ex- pected to do them, from whom habit By Gilbert Parker. takes a load of responsibility. He was quite as well treated in this French ship 2 he would be in an English ship, and hé could be on easier terms with his present comrades because he spoke Eng- lish badly; but these sailors could under- fiand his language and he theirs. He had stubbornly resisted being pressed, but he had been knocked on the head— and there was an end of it. What was the good of being knocked on the head again or being hung at the yard-arm if one could help jt? He was an expert gunner, for he had served four years With the artillery at Elizabeth Castle in Jersey. When he was drafted in he nad asked to become a gunner, and did such excellent work against some Spanish privateers that the admiral, delighted— for expert men were scarce—gave him a gun, and presently, because of his great skfil, made him master gunner. He grew fond of one great gun; 'he called her “ma couzaine,” for everything that a Jersey man comes to love he calls his cousin. His comrades, like himself, did not have much concern with ques- tions of loyalty or patriotism. They were ready to fight, but that because it was expected of them, and it would make little difference to them whether it was against the English or against the Turks, or even against another French ship. Fighting was their trade, and they were expected to fignt the old Invincible in ac- tion for all that she was capable. Yet Antoine had what was almost a thrill when he saw the British flag run up on the posts of the Fishing Company as they sailed into the bay. His heart, too, thumped a little. Involuntarily he looked up to the French tricolor fiying over his head. It was curious that there should be such a difference in two pieces of linen—or was it silk? No, it was linen. Just a little different arrange- ment of color, and yet this flag on the roof of the big fishing-shed scemed to rouse his pulses to a heat. “Man doux d'la vie! There is the fleg of old Carnaval!” he said. “P'r'aps Mi- nois put it up—that English fleg!” Whoever put it up there was the Eng- lish flag defiantly flying on the huts of the great fishing-shed, and—yet! there were the two old twenty-pounders train- ed on the French squadron. “Oh, my good! Oh, mai grand doux!” said Antoine, with a low, rolling laugh; “Oh, that is very dam funnee!” The sight of the British flag loosened his tongue in English. It was undoubt- edly ridiculous, these two twentyv-pound ers training on a whole fleet. Presently there was more defiance—a Jersey flag, a nice oblong piece of white linen with two diagopal red stripes: it was hoisted on the heuse of the Master. “Oh my good!” said Antoine again; “it will be the old man and the three boys next. What, what?—million —thunders, look at that!”" He laughed uproariously, forgetful of discipline, of everything save the sight of old man Carnaval, his three sons, and his three daughters—marching with mus- kets from the house to the great shed. Antoine heard a laugh behind him. He looked round, then straightened himself and stood at attention. It was Admiral Richery, guffawing almost as loudly as Antoine himself had done. big splutter in a little pot, “That’s a 1 he. “Petticoats, too!” He put his telescope to his eye. ‘“And, son of Peter, scarce out of their teens! The are going to fight ghed again till the tears came. “The zlory of Heaven, but it is droll that! It is a farce au diable! They have humor, these fisherfolk—eh, gunner?” “Old man Carnaval will fight just the same,” answered Antoine, bridling up in- Lord protect v my squadron h, ho, you know these people, my gunner?” said the admiral. “These ten years, Excellency,” answer- ed Antoine, “and by your leave, Excel- lency, I will tell you how.” And, not wliting for permission (after the manner of a Jerseyman), he told. the admiral the story of his old life, and of his being pressed. very good,” said the admiral coolly, 'vou Jersey folk used to be Frenchmen; now that you are a Frenchman again, you shall do something for the flag. You see that twenty-pounder yonder behind the wall? Very well, dismount it. Then we'll send in a flag of truce and parley with ‘old man Carnaval,’ for his jests are worth attention and politeness. There's a fellow at the gun—no! he has gone. Take good aim and dismount the gun in one shot. a good range.” The whole matter went through An- toine’s mind as the admiral spoke. If he refused to fire he would be strung up to the yari-ariu, if he fired and missed perhaps other gunners woull fire, and once started, they migat ruze the fisr ing-post. 1f he fired ana dismoanted the gun, the matter wowd be vnly a jest, for as such, so far, the admiral regarded it. In dismounting the gun and further- ing the jest, he would bé saving the Carnavals, and helping England too. Well, to think that he must fire against the place where he had got his living these ten years! Why, he and Minois Ready now—you have . 189, had many a time sat gossiping on this Vvery gun that he was asked to dismount! There was no time to weigh the matter further; the admiral was frowning. So Antoine smiled as though the business was pleasing him, and prepared to fire. He cast away the tackle and breech- ings, took off the apron, pricked a car- tridge, primed, bruised the priming, and covered the vent. Then he took his range steadily, quietly. There was a brisk wind blowing from the south—he must allow for that; but the wind was Stopped somewhat in its course by the Perce Rock—he must allow for that. He knew the wall behind which it was, its weakest part—he must take that into ac- count. He had got what he thought was the right elevation; the distance was considerable, but he believed he could do the business. He had a cool, some- what stolid head, but his ey Vi C| and well trained. e He was ready. Suddenly i 1 y a girl ap- genred running round the corner of the uilding, making straight for the gun. It was Minois! He himself had taugh: her how to fire that very gun. She ;u: going to be gunner now. One of her rothers was running toward the other :;:I:,E nmfle(t:ol;d was following her. An- arted. a e He had not taken this “‘Fire, you fool!" erf L, Fou'll Kill the girlo . e Smmiral, for 'Antoin? laid a hand on himself, as it Were. Every nerve in his body seemed tingling, his legs trembled, but his eye was steady. He took the sight once more (::ngl.\'v.‘lt!:?n blew on the mateh. The girl vas within thirty feet of — madcap Minofs! < e He blew on the match again and fired! When the smoke clearcd away he saw that the gun was dismounted, and not fifteen feet from it stood the girl as if she had been turned into stone, looking— looking dazedly at the gun. He heard a laugh behind him. There was the admiral walking away, his tele- scope under his arm. Presently Antoine saw a boat lowered, even as one of the 2-pounders on the shore replied impu- dently to the shot he had fired. The offi- cers were laughing with the admiral and pointing toward Antoine. “A good shot,” he heard the captain say. “Was 1t?” sald Antoine to himself. Was it? Then it would be the last that he would ever fire against the English. The sight of that girl upon the shore had decided him, had quickened some feeling in him. He looked over the side and saw the boat drawing away with the white flag of truce in the hands of a midship- man. He wished he was in that boat; he then could see Minois face to face. There shé was, talking to her father, and stamping her foot, too. She had a téem- per, had Minois! Never mind, she was the finest girl in all the world. He would desert to-night. No—not de- sert, that was not the word; he would, escape and go ashore to Minois! He would go back to the English flag, no matter what happened. As he sponged the gun, his “ma cou- zaine,” he made his plans. Swish-swash, the sponge staff ran in and out; he would try to steal away at dog-watch. He struck the sponge smartly on “ma cou- zaine’s” muzzle, cleansing it—he would have to slide into the water like a rat and swim so softly—so softly! He reached for a fresh cartridge and thrust it into the throat of “ma couzaine” as far as he could reach, and as he laid the seam downward, he said to himself “If they see me, one minute I can hold my breath under water; in one minute I can swim a hundred yards; good!” He lovingly placed the wad to the cartridge, and, in three strokes of the rammer, drove wad and cartridge home with the precision of a drill. It a long swim to shore, but if he got a falr start he thought he could do it. As he unstopped the touch- hole and tried with the priming-wire whether the cartridge was home, he pic- tured to himself being challenged, per- haps by Minois, and his reply. Then he imagined how she would say, “Oh, my good!” in true Jersey fashion, as he had taught her, and then—well, then, he hadn't got any further than that. Think- ing was hard work for Antoine. By the time he had rammed home wad and shot, however, he had come upon a fresh thought; and it stunned him. The admiral would send a squad of men to search for him, and if he wasn't found they would probubly bomoard the post— “swab the eaboose,” he said to himself. As he put the apron carefully on couzaine,” he almost burst his head with hard thinking. . . do to go to Perce village and take refuge with the Carnavals. And it wouidn't do to make for ta woods of the interior, for the old admiral might take his revenge out of the post. And no wonder, for, he said to himself with a simple vanity, he, Antoine Robi- chon, was a fine gunner, and “ma couz- aine” would never behave so well with any one else. “Ma couzaine” had been used to playing ugly pranks at times, especially if it was blowing fresh. She had once torn her tackle out of the ringbolt in the deck and had LS Y No, it wouldn’t - killed more than one sailor in her mad debauch of freedom. She had always be- haved well under his hand, and it seemed to him that when he blew on the match to fire her the muzzle gaped in a grin of delight. Of ceurse the fleet would be furi- ous at losing.him, and “ma couzaine” there, the biggest gun in the fleet, with- out her master. So they would pepper the place if they did not find him. De- cidedly, hemust not go to old man Carna- val's. No harm should come to Minois’ people that he could prevent. What was he to do? He leaned his arms on the gun and shook his head helplessly at the village; then he turned his head away from the land. All at once his look seemed ‘to lose itself in a long aisle of ever-widening, ever-brightening arches till a vast wilder- ness of splendor swallowed it. It was a hole in the wall, the archway piercing the great rock. Its myriad inhabitants shrieked and clattered and cried over- head. The shot from *“ma couzaine” had roused them, and they had risen up like a cloud, and were scolding like a million fishwives over this insult to their peace. As he looked Antoine got a new ide: If he could get on the top of that mas- sive wall, not a hundred fleets could dis- lodge him, nor an army follow him. A dozen stones would prevent that; one musket could defeat any forlorn hope. He would be the first wan that ever gave battle to a whole fleet. Besides, if he took refuge on the rock there would be no grudge against Perce village or the Carnavals, and the admiral would not at- tack them. There he had worked it out, and it was now a question between him and the ad- miral and his fleet; the Carnavals were out of it. There was the young sous-lieu- tenant now on the shore with his flag of truce, talking to “o’ man Carnaval.’ There was Minois not ten feet away, and there was the young sous-lieutenant bow- ing and scraping to her. “Man doux d’la vie, what did he mean by that?"” reflected Antoine. It was all right between old man Carnaval and the sous-lieutenant— that was clear. There they were all shaking hands now. It was surer than ever that he, Antoine, must carry on a campaign independent of the Carnavals. If he didn't succeed, why then he would be hanged to the yardarm or shot. But if he stayed where he was on the Invin- cible, he was in just as much danger from the British gun in battle. “Ba su!” Antoine said to himself, the only thing was to try and climb Perce Rock. ‘What a thing to tell if he did it and came safe out of the scrape. It would increasethe worthof the Charming Nancy at least 50 per cent. Certainly he must do it. He had pointed out to Minois two years ago the spot where he thought it could be done. Just at this particular point the wall was not quite so steep, and there were narrow ledges and lumps of stone and natural steps and footholds and little pinnacles which the fingers could grip and where a man might rest. The weather had been scorching hot, too, the rocks were dry as a bone and there would be no danger of slipping. Yes, he would try it in any case. He would be deserter, patriot, adventurer, gunner, master of the Charming Nancy and Jer: man all in one. He woud need, what? If he got -to the top he would need twine for hauling up rope—the Car- navals would give him rope when the time came. He would need stone and flint, and he also had some matches. A knife, a hammer and. one quilt—he must have the quilt for the nights, though he well knew what the weight of it would mean in climbing. Then there was food. ‘Well, perhaps he should starve to death up there, but he would take what was left of to-day's rations, of which he had eaten very little; there was about a half-pound of biscuit, near half a pint of peas, a half-pint of oatmeal and two He could-live on that for at least three days. He also had a horn of good arrack. When that was gone, well, he was taking chances! If he died of thirst it was no worse than the yardarm. The most important thing was a few hundréd féet of fine strong twine, and he knew there was as much as he needed in the storeroom among the cordage. He would get that at once and conceal it, for it was the one thing he could not do without. = There was the sous-lieutenant coming back to the Invincible; he was waving his hand toward Minois. It ail very fine, he reflected, fretfully, to be a sous- lieutenant and wear a gold-handled sword; but he, Antoine, would climb Perce Rock, and the fleet and Minois and the sous-lieutenant should see him do a thing that had never before been done. But how would Minois know who it was perched on Perce Rock?- He had not thought of that. What signal was there” There was none that he knew. Well, if he got away safely from the Invincible he would go to old man Carnaval's, let her know, and then go straight to the Perce Rock. Though it would be moon- light, the path of ascent was on the south side, out of the view of the fleet. Very well; that settled it. He patted “ma couzaine” tenderly. He was sorry to leave her, but it had to be. He was, however, a man of habit. The rest of the day he did his duty as faith- fully as though he expected to be at his post the next morning. He gave the us- ual instructions to the gunsmith and ars morer; he inspected the small arms; ha chose a man, as was his custom, for the gunroom watch; and he ate his supper phlegmatically when the hour came. It was the last quarter of the moon and the neap tide was running low, when An- toine let himself down softly into the water. He had the blanket tied to his Iead, the food, matches and so_on were inside the blanket, and the twine was in pocket. He had not been seen, and he dropped away quietly astern. Another ship lay in'his path, and he must be care- ful in passing her. He had got clear of the Invincible while the moon was par- tially obscured. Now, however, it was shining, but not very brightly. He came so near the other ship that ha could see the watch, and he could smell the hot tar and pitch which had been- used on the seams after calking. There ‘was no sea and very little wind, and the watch was not alert. He was so close at one moment that he could hear the ounces of cheese. laughter of the young foremast men as they turned in. He moved his arms very Al ‘now,” said Antoine. ‘‘When they mis: gently, propelling himself chiefly by his legs. At lasg e was clear of the fleet. Now it was a question of whén his de- sertion would be discovered. "All he ask- ed was two clear hours. By that time the deed would be dons, 1 he could climb the Perce Rock at all. He touched bottom; he was so far safe. He was on the Perce sands. His blanket was scarcely wetted. He wrung the wa- ter out of his clothes and ran softly up the shore. Suddenly he was met by & cry of “Halt” and a *“Who goes .there?” and he stopped short at the point '?{ a baye- net. He recognized the voice; it was old man Carnaval’ He said “Sh!” and gave his name=- Antoine Robichon of the Charming Nancy. The old man knew the voice. He nearly dropped his musket {n surprise. Antoine’s tale of his misfortunes was soon given, but he had not yet told of his present plans when he heard a qulc‘x footstep, and Minois was at her father’'s side. Unlike the old man, she did drop her musket, and with an exclamation im- pulsively threw her arms round his neck and kissed him on the.cheek. “There!” she said, “that’s for the cap- tain of the Charming Nancy, wha's coma in through a fleet of Frenchmen!” .She thought he had stolen into the harbor with his little ship under the very nose of the admiral and his squadron. Ruefully Antoine had to tell her the truth. She trembled with éxcitement at the story of how he had been pressed at St. Malo and all that came after until this very day when he had dismounted the gun not fifteen feet from where she stood. “Man alive!” she said; “it is you, An- toine—it was you that dismounted that 8un and nearly killed me!” “It was hard work not killing you,” he answered. “Go along with Minois,” said o' man Carnaval. “Moise is at the house; he'll help you get away into the woods. That was not Antoine’s plan, but he did not intend it for Carnaval's ears. Time was short, his position was peril- ous. He offered no explanation to the old man, but hurried away with Minois, tell- ing her his purpose as he went. Sud- denly she stopped short. ntoine Robichon,” said she, “‘you're & You can’t climb the Perce Roek. No one has ever done it, and you mustn’t try; you'll be safe where Moise will hide you. You shan’t climb the rock—ah, no! She did not understand his reasons. He pointed toward the Post. “They wouldn't leave a stick standing there if you hide me. No, I'm going to the top of Perce, or break my neck— viar” Here was a revelation! She had never thought .Antoine capable of so much thinking. For a moment she could only ‘Mon doux terrible! Mon doux terri- Just think of that—to save us all ble! and to climb Perce Rock!” Then his intention suddenly inspired her. ‘‘Antoine,” she said, clutching his arm, “if you go to the top of Perce Rock, s0 will 11" In spite of his anxiety he langhed. “Ah, ba, all right!” he said, ‘but I must get up first. Then Il drop a cord and you'll tie on a small rope if you've got enough. You'll tie it round your waist and come on, -and then if you slip or get tired I'll hold you safe- with the rope. But see—but see,” his voice drop- ped, “you can’t stay up there with me all alone, Minois—and besides, it wouldn’t do —the admiral’d be firing on you teo!” “I can’t stay alome with you,. mon doux!"” She was angry now. She could have slapped his face. “I'd like to know why I can’t. If you ever want-mé ‘to kiss you again in-all your life, Anteine Robichon, you'll thump that stupid brain. of yours for more sense to say. Come, now, am I going up or not?” £ “Yes,” he said “you can go up-if you'll g0 down again when I tell you.™ X “I'll go down when you ask .me, siliy! she said. e “Then I'll go straight to the Rock there'll be a pot boiling, I can’ tell you. He unloosened the blanket from his head. “If I get up,” he said, “I'll let the string down for the rope, and you will-tie thi blanket on te the rope. I'llhavetorunmy chance of their not’ missing’ me-befare that. Once on top they can't hurt :me— nothing at all. * * % Ah, ba! Good- by, Minois.” “Oh, my good. Oh, my good!" said the girl, with a sudden change of mood.- “To. think you have been gone two:years, and now you come back like this! And per- haps—" But as he was about to put his #tms round her, she pushed him away, dashed the tears from her eyes, and bade him go. 3 - He had a new confidence.in his enter- prise. Hadn't Minois kissed him? Hadn’t she wiped the tears out of her eyes? Hadn't she wanted to come with him to the top of Perce Rock? She was the sort of girl to be the wife of the master of the Charming Nancy! ~Without doubt she was. But if she came to Perce Rock, if she got up—well, he’d “get up :himself first, and then he'd try and think out the rest of it, but thinking was terribly. hard ~ work. - It was worse than fighting a ship to leeward of the enemy. The tide was now well out; the moon was shining very brightly. -He reached the point where, if the Rock was to be scaled at all, the ascent must be made. For a distance there was shelving where a fair foothold might be had by a fear- less ‘man, with a steady head and sure balance. After that came about a hun- dred feet where he would have to draw himself up hand over hand, where was no natural pathway, where crevices must be found for feet and -hands.. Woe be to him if his head grew dizzy, his foot slipped or his strength gave.out; his body- would be broken-to pieces. on.the hard sand below. If :that second stage was passed, the ascent thence to -the top was easier; for though nearly as steep, it had ledges and offered fair vantage to a man who had a foot like a ‘mountain goat. Antoine had been aloft all weathers and his toes were.as strong as another man's - foot, and surer. He started. These toes 6f his caught in crevices, held on to ledges; glued them- selves to smooth surfaces; . the knees clung lfke a rough rider'sto 4 saddle; the big hands, when once they got a: .pur- chase, fastened like an octopus or an air- Continued on Page 32