'My congratulations, Mr. Brook. I shall be happy to arrange matters as you wish. May I take it you will then go on for me to Madrid?
'I thank you, Sir. But to proceed to Madrid may not be necessary. Do you know who now commands in Lisbon?'
'Yes, General Junot. At least, he did so up until a week ago; and, as he has occupied that post ever since the Braganzas fled, there is little likelihood of his having been superseded.'
'Excellent!' Roger smiled again. 'He is one of my oldest friends, and it is certain that he will be well informed about how matters are shaping in Spain. If the frigate that lands us can return after a week or so, and send in a boat, I'd be able to transmit to you by her a sound appreciation of the situation.'
'An admirable idea. That could save us weeks in learning what our prospects are should we send an army into the Peninsula.'
They parted most cordially, Canning having promised to let Roger know when a frigate was sailing to relieve another in the fleet that was blockading Portugal.
Two days elapsed; then, late at night on May 25th, a note arrived for Roger from Canning, to let him know that Gadfly, a sloop-of-war which was lying off Greenwich, would be sailing the following noon with despatches for the Admiral commanding the British squadron blockading Lisbon; and that her Captain had been given orders respecting Mr. and Mrs. Brook.
Next morning Lisala threw one of her fits of temper when Roger told her that she must leave behind all the pretty clothes she had bought, because they were to make a secret landing, so could take only what they could carry. To his insistence she had to give way and, when they went downstairs, her face had its usual angelic expression.
Droopy conveyed them down to Greenwich in his coach; Caroline and Judith came too, to see them off. The ladies exchanged tearful farewells and the Brooks went aboard Gadfly, to be received by a young Lieutenant named Higgins. He apologised for the narrowness of the quarters in the sloop, but gallantly gave up his own cabin to them. It was a sunny afternoon when they dropped down the Thames and the weather proved clement for the remainder of their voyage. On the night of May 30th, he put them ashore in a small cove some ten miles north of Lisbon.
Roger would have preferred to face the long walk to the city, rather than risk giving themselves away by seeking transport; but Lisala would not hear of it, and showed at her best in dealing with the situation. She knocked up the people at the nearest farmhouse, boldly told them who she was and, without giving any explanation of their presence in such a lonely spot in the middle of the night, demanded to be driven into Lisbon.
The Portuguese peasants being accustomed to obeying orders from the nobility without question, the farmer harnessed two mules to his wagon, put some bundles of straw in it for them to sit on, and they set off.
As they entered the city, the early summer dawn was breaking. Already they had planned what they intended to do. Having been twice to the de Pombal mansion as an Englishman,
Roger feared that, if a pro-French servant recognised him, that might cause him considerable inconvenience. So Lisala was to leave him near the Leao d'ouro, and proceed to her home on her own. Then, later in the day, he would get in touch with her.
At the inn the servants were just starting the daily round. Roger sent one of them to rouse the landlord, who came downstairs in a chamber robe and night-cap. On seeing Roger, he exclaimed:
'Senhor Brook! Where have you been all this time? You disappeared without giving me a word of notice. But no matter. By returning to Lisbon you have run your head into a hornets' nest. If the accursed French learn of your presence here, it will be the worse for you.'
Roger laughed. *Don't worry. I can take care of myself. But what of my baggage? Is it still here, or have you disposed of it as payment for what I owe you ?'
'No, Senhor. Expecting you would return in a week or so, I had your things put up in the attic. Then, to tell the truth, I forgot all about them.'
'Praise be for that! Please give me a room, have them brought down to it, and hot water sent up so that I may bathe myself.'
An hour later, Roger came downstairs. He had shaved off his side-whiskers and was dressed in the resplendent uniform of a French Staff Colonel, that he had had made for him in Madrid.
At the sight of this metamorphosis the landlord's eyes opened wide. Roger quickly put a finger to his lips and said in a low voice, 'I had this uniform made secretly when I was here last November, intending to don it when the French arrived and to pass myself off as one of them. Most unfortunately, I was aboard a ship when the tempest arose and was carried off to Brazil. I am only just returned but, I trust, not too late to be of service to my country in this guise.'
The landlord began to laugh until his big paunch wobbled. Bending towards Roger, he whispered huskily, 'Be easy, Senhor. No one here will say a word of this. And may God prosper your activities against the accursed French.'
After giving the man several pieces of gold to settle what he owed, Roger sat down to a hearty breakfast; then returned to his room and slept for a few hours.
At four o'clock he ordered a carriage and now, as a high-ranking officer of the occupying Power with nothing to fear, he had himself driven out to the de Pombal mansion.
While discussing with Lisala his reappearance in Lisbon they had been faced with the fact that, on seeing him again, most of the dc Pombal servants would recognise him as Mr. Brook; but there were others who had accompanied the Marquis to Persia, so if Roger arrived clean shaven and wearing French uniform, they would tell their companions that he was the Chevalier de Breuc who had paid court to Lisala in Isfahan.
He therefore presented himself in this role and said to the footman who opened the door to him: 'There is a rumour in the city that the Senhorita de Pombal has returned home. If that is so, I should much like to pay my respects to her, as I made her acquaintance while she was in Persia.'
A major-domo showed Roger up to the big salon and left him there for a short while, then returned to usher in Lisala. With apparent surprise and evident delight, she greeted Roger, exclaiming how pleased she was to see him again after many months.
No sooner had the servant left the room than they burst into laughter and embraced. Then Roger said, 'All has gone well, my love. The landlord at the Leao d’ouro now believes me to be an English spy, and can be relied on to keep his mouth shut. Now that we are established in the eyes of your servants as old friends, they will feel no surprise if I visit you here frequently. In the meantime, you must see your attorney and urge him speedily to make good your title to your inheritance. I will sec General Junot and, if any difficulties arise, seek his influence to brush them aside. And, now, fatigued by your night's adventure, you must to bed, lest the roses in your lovely cheeks become faded.'
Roger marched out of the house as he had entered it—a master in yet another land which had become subject to his all-powerful Emperor. That evening he went to the Palace which Junot had taken over, and sent up his name. The Due d'Abrantes had him brought up, flung his arms round him, kissed him on both cheeks and cried:
'Mon vieux! Mon vieux! Mon cher Breuc! Where have you been? What have you been doing all this time, and what brings you to this God-forsaken country?'