s choked her utterance. "Have no anxiety for me and my future. I am
going with the Kennedys to England."

XXV

A SUSPICIOUS FISHING-SMACK

A raw north wind swept over the island of Walcheren and the mouth of the
West Schelde, ruffling into tiny waves the water of the broad stream,
which in the twilight looked like a shoreless sea. Only those acquainted
with the ground knew that the flashing lights of the beacons at Flushing
on the right and at Fort Frederik Hendrik on the left marked the limits
of the wide mouth of the harbour. Here, in 1809, when Holland was under
the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte, a powerful English fleet had entered
the Schelde to attack Flushing, and take the fortress. In the centre,
between the two lights, which were about three miles apart, the German
cruiser Gefion lay tossing at anchor. On the deck stood Heideck, who on
his return had been promoted to major and appointed to the intelligence
department for the coast district of Holland.

In the afternoon he had seen a vessel entering the Schelde, which the
pilot had identified as one of the fishing-smacks plying between the
Shetland Islands and the Dutch ports. Heideck had informed the captain
of the Gefion of his suspicion that the smack might be intended for
another purpose than trading in herrings. The little vessel had put
in on the left bank, between the villages of Breskens and Kadzand, and
Heideck decided to row across to it.

Six marines and four sailors, under the command of a mate, manned one
of the Gefion's boats, and set out for the left bank in the direction of
the suspected vessel. It cost the oarsmen, struggling with the tide and
wind which came howling from the sea, nearly half an hour's hard work
before they saw the dark hull of the smack emerging clearly outlined
before them. A hoarse voice from on board asked what they wanted.

"His Majesty's service!" answered Heideck, and, as the boat lay to, he
threw off his cloak, so as to spring on deck more easily. Three men,
in the dark, woollen smock and tarpaulined hat of coast fishermen,
approached him and, in answer to his inquiry for the master, told him,
in an unintelligible mixture of Dutch and German, that he had gone
ashore.

"His name?"

"Maaning Brandelaar."

"What is the name of this vessel?"

"Bressay."

The answers were given with hesitation and sullenly, and the three men
showed such evident signs of irritation that Heideck felt they would
have gladly t