spot found for him. Actually, one of the reasons I go to Wight is to see whether my residence there might not be used as a refuge. I own rather a fine castle on the island, and Wight has a better climate than the rest of England. Napoleon’s health is not good, unfortunately.”
“Wight is not ten miles from England!” Sir Henry gasped in disbelief at such madness.
“True, it would permit easy visiting for him, which is one of the advantages of the plan,” Sanford agreed reasonably. “If he were agreeable, I would like to set up a military academy there, to give our officers the benefit of his genius.”
“We have our own genius! Wellington can teach our lads what they need to know.”
“Wellington, another giant, is one of the few who agrees with me,” Sanford pointed out. “He says quite openly it is only the bungling of Bonaparte’s officers that lost Napoleon Waterloo. Wellington would be happy to see him on Wight. He helped spike the wheel of those bloodthirsty ministers who wanted to send Napoleon back to Louis for beheading. What a conversation that would be—Wellington and Napoleon. I hope I may have the honor to be present when they meet.”
“They will not meet, sir!” Sir Henry told him, and, folding up his petition, stuck it into his breast pocket.
“I suppose not, if Boney manages to escape,” Sanford admitted. “That would be a dreadful mistake. He can certainly negotiate a good, a very pleasant refuge, if he sits tight and isn’t scared into trying to escape by some hare-brained scheme. Surely no one would be foolish enough to try it.”
“You may be sure someone will try it,” David said, his brown eyes flashing at this impossible stranger. He wondered that his father sat calmly by and heard such treasonous talk. “Everyone says Bonaparte is to be incarcerated on Saint Helena Island, over a thousand miles off the coast of Africa, and he will try to escape to avoid it. This is his last chance. The town of Plymouth is overrun with Frenchies slipped over since Waterloo, come with no other thought than to free him.”
“They must certainly be thwarted,” Sanford declared.
Sir Henry opened his mouth to object, till he realized he agreed. This was the sole point of agreement between them. They none of them wanted Napoleon to escape. The Boltwood party was afraid he’d get clean away, and Sanford was afraid he wouldn’t. Sir Henry was in no mood to discuss further with this upstart rebel who had somehow got into his house under false pretences, and turned to Mr. Benson.
“You mentioned an interest in seeing my preparations to prevent Napoleon’s escape, Mr. Benson. Shall we go down to the wharf now and do it, while Lord Sanford finishes his coffee?”
“I’ll go with you,” Sanford said, causing chagrin in every heart as he pushed away his cup with a grimace of distaste.
They were soon clambering down the rock cliff from castle to dock, with Sir Henry wincing at every painful step. Benson gave his hand to Marie to aid her, and Sanford walked along behind them with Sir Henry, offering no help at all to the invalid. “Demmed awkward approach to your dock,” was his only comment as they went.
“Bolt Hall was put up on the hill on purpose to make attack harder. It is why I have never put in a staircase. The Hall is a fortress, walled all around. The first castle in England that was set up for the garrison having their artillery behind the walls. Show you later when we go back up.” But first they had to get down to the dock, to examine the six yachts bobbing up and down in the water, and the seventh, the only one of any size or speed, propped up on the dock on wooden horses, with its keel facing the sun.
“That won’t do you much good in an emergency,” Sanford said, staring at it with consternation. This was the first statement with which David agreed.
“She can be launched today,” Sir Henry replied stiffly, which put David back in his father's camp where he
“Wight is not ten miles from England!” Sir Henry gasped in disbelief at such madness.
“True, it would permit easy visiting for him, which is one of the advantages of the plan,” Sanford agreed reasonably. “If he were agreeable, I would like to set up a military academy there, to give our officers the benefit of his genius.”
“We have our own genius! Wellington can teach our lads what they need to know.”
“Wellington, another giant, is one of the few who agrees with me,” Sanford pointed out. “He says quite openly it is only the bungling of Bonaparte’s officers that lost Napoleon Waterloo. Wellington would be happy to see him on Wight. He helped spike the wheel of those bloodthirsty ministers who wanted to send Napoleon back to Louis for beheading. What a conversation that would be—Wellington and Napoleon. I hope I may have the honor to be present when they meet.”
“They will not meet, sir!” Sir Henry told him, and, folding up his petition, stuck it into his breast pocket.
“I suppose not, if Boney manages to escape,” Sanford admitted. “That would be a dreadful mistake. He can certainly negotiate a good, a very pleasant refuge, if he sits tight and isn’t scared into trying to escape by some hare-brained scheme. Surely no one would be foolish enough to try it.”
“You may be sure someone will try it,” David said, his brown eyes flashing at this impossible stranger. He wondered that his father sat calmly by and heard such treasonous talk. “Everyone says Bonaparte is to be incarcerated on Saint Helena Island, over a thousand miles off the coast of Africa, and he will try to escape to avoid it. This is his last chance. The town of Plymouth is overrun with Frenchies slipped over since Waterloo, come with no other thought than to free him.”
“They must certainly be thwarted,” Sanford declared.
Sir Henry opened his mouth to object, till he realized he agreed. This was the sole point of agreement between them. They none of them wanted Napoleon to escape. The Boltwood party was afraid he’d get clean away, and Sanford was afraid he wouldn’t. Sir Henry was in no mood to discuss further with this upstart rebel who had somehow got into his house under false pretences, and turned to Mr. Benson.
“You mentioned an interest in seeing my preparations to prevent Napoleon’s escape, Mr. Benson. Shall we go down to the wharf now and do it, while Lord Sanford finishes his coffee?”
“I’ll go with you,” Sanford said, causing chagrin in every heart as he pushed away his cup with a grimace of distaste.
They were soon clambering down the rock cliff from castle to dock, with Sir Henry wincing at every painful step. Benson gave his hand to Marie to aid her, and Sanford walked along behind them with Sir Henry, offering no help at all to the invalid. “Demmed awkward approach to your dock,” was his only comment as they went.
“Bolt Hall was put up on the hill on purpose to make attack harder. It is why I have never put in a staircase. The Hall is a fortress, walled all around. The first castle in England that was set up for the garrison having their artillery behind the walls. Show you later when we go back up.” But first they had to get down to the dock, to examine the six yachts bobbing up and down in the water, and the seventh, the only one of any size or speed, propped up on the dock on wooden horses, with its keel facing the sun.
“That won’t do you much good in an emergency,” Sanford said, staring at it with consternation. This was the first statement with which David agreed.
“She can be launched today,” Sir Henry replied stiffly, which put David back in his father's camp where he
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