On the other hand, there beckoned England, Home and Beauty in the form of his beloved Georgina and, however passionately he might be attracted to other women, he always had loved and always would love her above all, for she was his true female counterpart in heart and mind as well as body.
Regretfully, but without hesitation, he put from him the lure of Zanthe.
Early in the afternoon the Sergeant of Marines unlocked the door and beckoned Roger out. With a gloomy grimace for the benefit of his fellow-prisoners, he stepped into the passage, then followed the Sergeant up on deck, happily confident that he was about to take the first fence that would put him on the way to England.
The Captain of Audacious, telescope under arm, was pacing his quarter-deck, while keeping an eye on the working parties labouring on the most urgent repairs to spars and rigging. Roger was marched up to him, then halted and made a graceful bow. The Captain returned it courteously and asked in poor French:
' Is it true that you are one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp? '
Roger bowed again. ' Oui, Monsieur le Capitaine*
' How long is it since you left the General? '
' Six days. I am, as you say, direct from Cairo and became mixed in battle,* Roger replied with a strong accent and deliberately distorting his English.
The Captain nodded and spoke in English himself. ' In that case I feel sure Sir Horatio Nelson would like to speak with you. I have ordered a boat and am sending you across to his flagship.'
' It is great honour.' Roger bowed once more, now with a smile at having achieved his object without even having to use the bait he had prepared to get himself sent to the Admiral.
A well-grown Midshipman, who was standing by, was given a message about Roger for the Officer of the Watch in Vanguard. Roger was then taken to the ship's side, where a rope ladder led down to the waiting boat.
It was then that he had his first sight of the destruction wrought by the battle. Twenty-five ships lay at anchor scattered about the long, shallow bay. Culloden alone among them showed no sign of damage. Despite herculean efforts, and hours of cursing by her unfortunate Captain, Troubridge, who was one of Nelson's most able officers, it had proved impossible to get her off the sandspit beyond Aboukir Island, where she had run aground while still out of range of the enemy. There was hardly another ship that had not lost a mast, and several had had all three shot away. Most of the French ships had been reduced to no more than floating hulks and two, having been burnt out and sunk, had disappeared. From the masts still standing in the British ships many of the sails still sagged in tatters. For miles round the gently heaving sea was .strewn with wreckage, barrels, crates and hundreds of bobbing corpses, while scores of boats went to and fro among them picking up anything that appeared worth salvaging.
Through this watery charnel-house Roger was rowed to Vanguard. On board her the ' Middy' gave his message and, after a wait of ten minutes out on the deck, Roger was taken in under the poop to Berry, Nelson's Flag Captain.
After greeting him courteously, Berry said in French, 'Since you have come from Cairo it is to be assumed that your Army has captured that city.'
'Yes,' Roger replied in the same language. 'On the 25th General Bonaparte took possession of the capital, after inflicting a crushing defeat on the Mamelukes four days earlier on the left bank of the Nile.'
' We picked up a rumour,' Berry said, ' that there had been a battle in which your Army was victorious, but we have had no particulars. Would you be agreeable, Colonel, to describing these events to my Admiral? '
Roger drew himself up and put his hand on his heart. ' You will appreciate, Captain, that it would not be in keeping with the honour of a soldier of France to disclose the strength of our forces, or their situation with regard to supplies. But I should be happy to describe to your Admiral the actions in which the Army has been engaged.'
Berry bowed. 'I thank you, Colonel. Sir Horatio has been wounded, although, thank God, not seriously; and he is at present much occupied. But I feel certain he would wish to hear an eyewitness account of these events. Be good enough to wait here.'
The Flag Captain left him and returned after a few minutes to take him along to a larger cabin. Nelson was seated behind a desk littered with papers. Roger had heard a great deal about this quite junior Admiral whose heroic exploits had already led the British people to take him to their hearts, but he had never before seen him.
Nelson had still two months to go before his fortieth birthday, but the pain he had suffered from severe wounds had made him look much older and had turned his hair grey. Roger was surprised, too, at the Admiral's frailty. With his thin, lined face and small body he looked a mere wisp of a man, and the loss of his right arm at the shoulder, with the sleeve pinned tightly across his chest, made him look even smaller. His head was bandaged and he was not wearing a shade over his misty eye, the sight of which he had lost during the taking of Corsica, but his ' bright' eye gleamed as alert and purposeful as ever.
After the Peace of '83 he had taken six months' leave to go to France, with the intention of learning the French language, because few officers then spoke it and while in the West Indies, he had found it frustrating to have to rely on indifferent interpreters when questioning the personnel of French prizes he had taken. He had no gift for languages, so had never succeeded in fully mastering French, but he spoke sufficient of it to greet Roger in that tongue.
Politely coming to his feet, he said, ' Colonel, may I offer you my commiserations on having become a prisoner-of-war; but be assured that we shall treat you with the respect to which your rank entitles you. Pray take a chair and tell me all that you feel you can in honour disclose about the remarkable prowess of your Army.'
Roger bowed and replied, 'Monsieur I'Amiral, the prowess of your Fleet equals, if not exceeds, that of our Army. I am greatly honoured that you should receive me. Since I must be conveyed to England as a prisoner there is one favour I would ask. Would you be so kind to inform Sir Christopher Brook of it? ' Then he calmly accepted the invitation to sit down, and crossed his long legs comfortably.
'Chris Brook! ' exclaimed Nelson. ' Why, he is an old friend. I served under him in the Indies. How comes it that you are acquainted with him? '
Roger cast a glance at Berry, who was standing in the doorway, and replied, ' Our association was of a distinctly private nature; but if I had your ear alone . . .*
' You intrigue me greatly,' said Nelson. Then he added to
Berry, 'I know you have much to do. Get on with it and leave me with the Colonel for a while.'
As Berry hesitated, the little Admiral pulled open a drawer in his desk, took a small pistol from it and pressed one of the triggers, upon which a miniature bayonet shot out from below the barrel. With a smile he said to Berry, ' Dear friend, I can see you fear that if you leave me alone with the Colonel he may do me an injury. Put your mind at rest. He is unarmed and, big fellow as he is, should he attack me I will stick him full of holes with this.'
When the Flag Captain had reluctantly withdrawn, Roger said in a low voice in English, ' Sir, I have spent much of my life in France, and it is true that I am one of General Bonaparte's aides-de-camp. In France I am accepted as a Frenchman who has some English blood, and a number of people there believe me to be a cousin of one Roger Brook. The fact is that I am Roger Brook, son to Admiral Brook, and for the past ten years I have served my country in secret as an agent of Mr. Pitt.'