Indeed, this same reflection, together with two physical observations — that Bellerophon is hove short with topgallant sails bent, ready to sail at a moment’s notice, and that the Count de Las Cases is on the quarterdeck, watching their chase with interest — begins to suggest to Andrew a radical change of plan. Should Bonaparte now be landed in so determinedly lawful a country, where sympathy for him seemed to increase with every day’s newspaper, could he ever be persuaded to “escape” to America? Even if he could, how rescue him from so mighty a fortress as the British Isles, from whose invasion the emperor himself, at the height of his power, had quailed? WRITING WITH HIS OFFICERS, reads the board now on Bellerophon…
He directs Mackenrot’s attention to the sailing preparations aboard that ship and proposes they divide their pursuit. Let him, Cook, return to Eurotas, where boarding might now be permitted him to keep him from reaching Keith; he will endeavor to talk his way thence to Bellerophon and remind Commander Maitland that contempt-of-court proceedings await him if he weighs anchor to avoid Mackenrot’s subpoena. Then let Mackenrot proceed to Cawsand and press after Admiral Keith.
The Scotsman agrees (Keith meanwhile, Andrew observes, has fled toward Prometheus, where he will order out the guard boats to fend off all approaching craft), adding that if he fails to catch the admiral at Cawsand he will return directly to Bellerophon and attempt to serve his writ through Maitland. The chase has taken most of the morning; as Andrew hopes, they are permitted to board Eurotas “just long enough to state their business,” and, per plan, Mackenrot pulls away as soon as Andrew steps onto the boarding ladder, so that they cannot order him back to his hired boat. But no sooner has Mackenrot drawn out of range than Andrew sees him rowing furiously back, and then observes the reason: Bellerophon has weighed anchor and, wind and tide both contrary, is being towed by her guard boats out toward the Channel!
And with her all my hopes, he writes, no longer of saving Bonaparte from exile, but of ensuring if I could that he went to St. Helena instead of to the Wood of Suicides in Hell. For he has now decided not only that a taste of true exile might be the best argument for inclining Napoleon to the Louisiana Project, but that with the aid of the Baratarians he is far more likely to effect a rescue from St. Helena than from the Tower of London. Almost before he realizes what he’s doing, therefore, he flings himself off Eurotas into Plymouth Sound, kicks away his boots, and strikes out for Bellerophon.
A cry goes up from both vessels. Andrew has jumped from the side opposite Eurotas’s guard boats and nearer Bellerophon’s, which therefore pause in their labors to save him from drowning. Before he can be placed under arrest and transferred back to Eurotas and thence to shore, he shouts a warning to Bellerophon’s watch officer that the launch fast approaching bears the feared habeas corpus from the King’s Bench. Sure enough, Mackenrot stands in her bows, waving his paper — and now the Count de Las Cases has recognized “André Castine” and says something to Commander Maitland. Orders are given: to his great relief Andrew sees another boat lowered to fend off the redoubtable Scotsman; he himself, there being nothing else presently to be done with him, is fetched aboard Bellerophon with the guard boats and their crews as soon as the old ship has sea room enough to begin tacking under her own power out of the sound.
