The Adventures Of The Caledonia

: The Coming Conquest Of England

The passengers of the Caledonia were in a state of hopeless dejection

and violent exasperation. An attempt was made to throw the blame of

their misfortune on the unpardonable carelessness of the responsible

military authorities, rather than attribute it to an accident that could

not have been reckoned upon.



"Here we have another striking example of English lack of foresight,"

said Mr. Kennedy. "The idea o allowing the Caledonia to travel without

protection! Think of all the men-of-war lying idle at Bombay, Aden, and

Port Said! And yet nobody thought there was any occasion to send one

or more of them to escort this splendid ship, with nearly a thousand

Englishmen on board, and a cargo worth more than a million. Had our

commanders no suspicion that the French ships were so near?"



"Our commanders relied upon there being enough English ships cruising in

the Mediterranean to prevent such enterprises," said the General.



But this excuse was not accepted, and bitter were the reproaches hurled

at the English way of managing the war. When night came on the majority

of the passengers, utterly exhausted by the exciting events they had

gone through, retired to their cabins. But Heideck remained on deck for

some time, cooling his heated forehead in the delightful night breeze.

The squadron quickly pursued its course through the gently rushing

waves, the position of each ship being clearly defined by the

sidelights. On the right was the Chanzy, on the left the Arethuse, in

the rear the Forbin and the O'Hara, manned by a French crew. Nothing

could be seen of the destroyer. At length Heideck, tired of hearing the

regular steps of the French sentries pacing up and down the deck, went

down to his cabin. He was soon asleep, but his rest was broken by uneasy

dreams. The battle, of which he had been a spectator, was fought again.

His dreams must have been very vivid, for he thought he heard, without

cessation, the dull roar of the guns. He rubbed his eyes and sat up in

his narrow berth. Was it a reality or only a delusion of his excited

senses? The dull thunder still smote on his ear; and, having listened

intently for a few moments, he jumped up, slipped on his clothes, and

hurried on deck. On the way he met several passengers, who had also been

woke by the report of the guns. As soon as he reached the deck, he saw

that another violent naval engagement was in progress.



The night was rather dark, but the flash from the guns showed fairly the

position of the enemy, which became perfectly clear, when a searchlight

from the Arethuse played over the surface of the water with dazzlingly

clear light. The huge hulks of two battleships, white and glittering,

emerged from the darkness. In addition, there were to be seen five

smaller warships and several small, low vessels, the torpedo-boats of

the British squadron, which was advancing to meet the French. Then,

bright as a miniature sun, a searchlight was turned on also by the

English. It was an interesting spectacle to notice how the two electric

lights, slowly turning round, as it were lugged each ship out of the

darkness, showing the guns where to aim.



The French squadron, whose commander was well aware of the enemy's

superiority, began to bestir itself rapidly. All the vessels, the

Caledonia included, turned round and retreated at full speed. But the

heavy English shells from the guns of the battleships were already

beginning to fall amongst them, although the distance might have been

three knots. Suddenly, when the Caledonia, in the course of a turning

manoeuvre, showed a broadside to the British fire, a sharp, violent

shock was felt, followed by the report of a violent explosion. The

Caledonia stopped dead, and loud cries of agony were heard from the

engine-room. The passengers, frightened to death, ran about the deck.

It could not be concealed from them that the ship had been struck by a

shell, which had exploded.



But it proved that the Caledonia, although badly injured, was in no

immediate danger. Only her speed and manoeuvring capacity had suffered

considerably owing to a steampipe having been hit.



The French warships retired as rapidly as possible, leaving the

Caledonia and the prize crew on board to their fate, since it was

impossible to take her with them. They were obliged to abandon the

valuable prize and rest content with their great success in the

destruction of the Royal Arthur and the capture of the O'Hara. The

Caledonia, being recognised by the searchlight thrown upon her, had no

fear of being shot at again. She moved slowly northwards, and in the

early morning was overtaken by two British cruisers. An officer came on

board, declared the French prize crew prisoners of war, and was informed

by the third officer, who was now in command, of the events of the last

twenty-four hours.



While the British squadron followed the French ships the Caledonia,

only travelling eight knots an hour, made for Naples, which was reached

without further incidents. The passengers were disembarked, the large

sum of money was deposited in the Bank of Naples to the credit of

the English Government, and only the cargo of cotton, carpets, and

embroidered silkstuffs was left on board.



The Kennedys and Mrs. Irwin went to the Hotel de la Riviera. They were

accompanied by Heideck, who intended to stay only one day at Naples, and

then to take the through train to Berlin.



Although he had said nothing to her about going to Berlin Edith

suspected his intention. A few hours later she spoke to him in the

reading-room, where he was eagerly studying the papers.



"Any news of importance?"



"Everything is new to me. Up to the present we have only had a glimpse

of what has been going on; these papers have given me a comprehensive

view of events for the first time."



"And now, of course, your only desire is to see your colours again? I

know that it is only ambition that guides you."



"Can you reproach an officer for that?"



"Yes, if he forgets humanity as well. But make your mind easy, I shall

not attempt to hinder you. I will not stand in the way of your ambition,

but neither will I sacrifice myself to it."



"Certainly you should not do so. We shall be happy when the war is over.

I will be as true to you as to my duty. If I return alive my existence

shall be devoted to making you happy."



"Love is like a bird; it must not be allowed too much freedom. Remember,

I have always told you I will never leave you."



"But, dearest Edith, that is utterly impossible! Have you any idea what

war is like?"



"I should have thought I had seen enough of it."



"Yes, in India and on sea. But in Europe war is carried on somewhat

differently. Every seat in the trains is calculated exactly; it is the

same in barracks, cantonments, and bivouacs. There is no room for a

woman. What would my comrades say of me if I appeared in your company?"



"You can say I am your wife."



"But, Edith, the idea is not to be seriously thought of. As a Prussian

officer I need permission before I can marry. How can I join my regiment

in the company of a lady? Or how could I now get leave to marry?"



"Quite easily. Many officers marry at the beginning of a war."



"Well, but even if I get leave now, according to the law we could not be

married for some months. I have already proposed that you should go to

my relatives at Hamburg and wait there till the war is over, and I still

think that is the only right thing to do."



"But I will not go to your relatives at Hamburg."



"And why not?"



"Do you think that I, an Englishwoman, would go and live in a German

family to be stared at? Do you think I could bear to read all the lies

about England in the German newspapers?"



"My uncle and aunt are people of great tact, and my cousins will show

you due respect."



"Cousins! No, thank you! I should be out of place in the midst of the

domestic felicity of strangers."



"If you won't go there, you might stop at a pension in Berlin."



"No, I won't do that either. I will stay with you."



"But, dearest Edith, how do you think this could be managed?"



"I will have nothing to do with conventionalities; otherwise life in

Germany would be intolerable. I should die of anxiety in a pension,

thinking every moment of the dangers to which you are exposed. No, I

couldn't endure that. I have lived through too much--seen too much that

is terrible. My nerves would not be strong enough for me to vegetate

in a family or a Berlin pension in the midst of the trivialities of

everyday life. Have pity on me, and don't leave me! Your presence is the

only effectual medicine for my mind."



"Ah! dearest Edith, my whole heart is full of you, and I would gladly do

as you wish. But every step we take must be practical and judicious.

If you say you will stay with me, you must have some idea in your mind.

How, then, do you think we can manage to be together? Remember that on

my return I shall be an officer on service, and shall have to carry out

the orders I receive."



"I have already thought of a way. Prince Tchajawadse had a page with

him; I will be your page."



"What an absurd idea! Prussian officers don't take pages with them on

active service."



"Never mind the name. You must have servants, like English officers; I

will be your boy."



"With us soldiers are told off for such duties, my dear Edith."



"Then I will go with you as a soldier. I have already gone as a rajah."



Heideck knitted his brows impatiently. The young woman, whose keen eyes

had noticed it, went on impetuously: "Although it seems you are tired

of me, I will not leave you. Distance is love's worst enemy, and you are

the only tie that binds me to life."



Heideck cast down his eyes, so as not to betray his thoughts. Since

he had read the papers, which gave him a clearer idea of the political

situation, his mind was fuller than before of warlike visions. He loved

Edith, but love did not fill his life so completely as it did hers. The

news in the Italian and French papers had put him into a regular fever

after his long absence from Europe. The dissolution of the Triple

Alliance, and Germany's new alliance with France and Russia, had caused

a complete alteration in the political horizon. He heard the stamping

of horses, the clash of arms, the thunder of cannon. The war was full of

importance and boundless possibilities.



It was a question of Germany's existence! Her losses up to the present

were estimated at more than three milliards. All the German colonies had

been seized by the English, hundreds of German merchant-men were lost,

German foreign trade was completely paralysed, German credit was shaken.

Unless Germany were finally victorious, the war meant her extinction as

a great Power.



He sprang up.



"It must be, dearest Edith; we must soon part!"



She turned pale. With a look of anguish she caught at his hand and held

it fast.



"Do not leave me!"



"I must have perfect freedom--at present. After the war I belong

entirely to you."



"No, no, you cannot be so cruel! You must not leave me!"



"We shall meet again! I love you and will be true to you. But now I ask

a sacrifice from you. I am a German officer; my life now belongs to my

country."



She slid from her chair to the ground and clasped his knees.



"I cannot leave you; it will bring you no happiness, if you destroy me."



"Be strong, Edith. I always used to admire your firm, powerful will.

Have you all at once lost all sense, all reason?"



"I have lost everything," she cried, "everything save you. And I will

not give you up!"



"Mrs. Irwin!" cried a voice of horror at this moment, "can it be

possible?"



Edith got up hurriedly.



Mrs. Kennedy and her daughter had entered unobserved. They had witnessed

the singular situation with utter astonishment and heard Edith's last

words.



"Good Heavens, can it be possible?" stammered the worthy lady; then,

turning to her daughter, she added, "Go, my child."



Edith Irwin had quickly recovered her composure. Standing up, her head

proudly raised, she faced the indignant lady.



"I beg you to remember, Mrs. Kennedy, that no one should pass judgment

without knowing the real state of things."



"I think what I have seen needs no explanation."



"If there is anything blameworthy in it, I alone am responsible,"

interposed Heideck. "Spare me a few minutes in private, Mrs. Kennedy,

and I will convince you that no blame attaches to Mrs. Irwin."



"I want no one to defend me or intercede for me!" cried Edith

passionately. "Why should we any longer conceal our love? This man,

Mrs. Kennedy, has saved my life and honour more than once, and it is no

humiliation for me to go on my knees before him."



Perhaps there was something in her face and the tone of her voice that

touched the Englishwoman's heart, in spite of her outraged sense of

propriety. The stern expression disappeared from her features, and she

said with friendly, almost motherly gentleness--



"Come, my poor child! I have certainly no right to set up for a judge of

your actions. But I am certainly old enough for you to trust in me."



Edith, overcome by this sudden kindness, leaned her head on Mrs.

Kennedy's shoulder. Heideck felt it would be best to leave the two

ladies to themselves.



"If you will permit me, ladies, I will leave you for the present."



With a rapid movement Edith laid her hand upon his arm.



"You give me your word, Captain Heideck, that you will not leave without

saying good-bye to me?"



"I give you my word."



He left the room in a most painful state of mind. It seemed as if, in

the fulfilment of his duty, he would have to pass over the body of the

being who was dearest to him on earth.



In the evening Mrs. Kennedy's maid brought him a short note from Edith,

asking him to come to her at once. He found her in her dimly-lighted

room on the couch; but as he entered she got up and went to meet him

with apparent calmness.



"You are right, my friend; I have in the meantime come to my senses

again. Nothing else is possible--we must part."



"I swear to you, Edith--"



"Swear nothing. The future is in God's hands alone."



She drew from the ring-finger of her left hand the hoop-ring, set

in valuable brilliants, which had given rise to their first serious

conversation.



"Take this ring, my friend, and think of me whenever you look at it."

Tears choked her utterance. "Have no anxiety for me and my future. I am

going with the Kennedys to England."