CONCLUSION OF THE CAPTAIN'S NARRATIVE.
The rest of the captain's letter read as follows:
"'In order to carry out my plan, the first thing I had to do was to free
myself from my bonds. Being unable to reach them with my mouth so I
could gnaw them in two with my teeth, I devised another means. By
crawling about on my stomach and feeling around with my face--as I had
no use of my hands--I finally succeeded in discovering a large iron
hook, doubtless intended for holding the ballast in place. Approaching
this hook, I leaned my back against it and began to rub the ropes that
bound me across the iron and upon the sharp end of the hook. Two hours
afterward I had worn the ropes sufficiently thin to be able to sever
them by a powerful wrench, anger having endowed me with almost
supernatural strength.
"'My hands free, the rest was only child's play.
"'I had my tinder-box, my pipe, a package of tobacco, and a long
whaling-knife in my pocket. In the twinkling of an eye I had cut the
ropes that bound my legs and started on a tour of inspection through the
hold on my hands and knees, as it was too low to admit of my standing
upright.
"'I could find nothing but some scraps of old sail and a few pieces of
rope. The only means of egress was a square hatchway. The boards of
which this was made had separated a little in one place, and I could see
the moonlight through the opening. Placing my hands upon my knees and
making my body into a bow, I tried to force open the hatchway with my
shoulders, but in vain. It was evidently secured--as it should have
been--with two strong iron bars.
"'Taking some of the ends of rope, I cut them into small pieces,
untwisted the strands, and in this way soon collected a small pile of
tow. Afterward I cut some of the old canvas on which I had been lying
into narrow strips and laid them on the little pile of tow, which I had
placed directly under the hatchway; after which I emptied my little bag
of tobacco on it to make it more combustible, and set fire to it,
blowing it vigorously all the while.
"'The tow took fire, communicated it to the pieces of old sail, and an
instant afterward the hold was filled with a dense smoke, part of which
filtered through the opening in the hatchway, while I yelled "Fire!"
with all my might. My cries and the strong smell of smoke that escaped
through the hatchway frightened the men on deck. I heard a great
commotion up there, the hatchway was raised almost immediately, and the
thick cloud of smoke that poured out through the opening was so blinding
that I was able to make my way through it, unseen, to the deck, with a
single bound, knife in hand. I found myself face to face with a tall,
swarthy man. I plunged my knife into his heart. He fell backward into
the sea. Leaping for the axe which is always kept near the bitt, so the
rigging can be quickly cut away if need be, I struck down another man;
then, with a back stroke, nearly cut off the arm of a man who was
rushing upon me, sabre in hand. All this occurred almost in the
twinkling of an eye. Taking advantage of the sort of stupor that had
seized the crew, and feeling much calmer after this explosion of
long-suppressed rage, I could see better where I was, or take my
bearings a little, as the saying is.
"'It was a magnificent moonlight night; a strong breeze was blowing; an
old, white-haired sailor was at the helm; a cabin-boy and three
terrified sailors had taken refuge in the bow, separated from me by the
open hatchway. The man I had struck down with the axe did not move; the
one I had wounded was on his knees, holding his right arm in his left
hand.
"'I still had three able-bodied men, a boy, and an old man to contend
with, but they, all seemed to be demoralised by my sudden attack.
"'Just then I caught sight of a pair of pistols near the rudder, and
before either of the three sailors could make the slightest movement, I
jumped for these weapons. In another moment my two bullets had struck
down a man apiece. With me at the helm, and the old sailor and the boy
to assist me, the boat could be handled with little or no difficulty,
for the weather was superb, and we could not be more than fourteen or
fifteen miles from the shores of France.
"'My situation thus promptly defined, I loaded my pistols again and
advanced toward the three men, who were gradually recovering from their
surprise.
"'"Go down into the hold, all three of you," I thundered. "If you don't,
I'll shoot two of you, and hew down the other."
"'There was only the length of the hatchway--about four feet--between me
and these men, so I could easily blow their brains out. They instantly
jumped into the hold, where the small quantity of combustible material I
had lighted was now nearly burned out. The wounded man, too, staggered
down as best he could; I replaced the hatchway, securing it with the
iron bars as before; then I walked to the stern of the boat.
"'"Give me the helm," I said to the old sailor; "you and the boy are to
manage the sail, and manage it right, or I'll blow your brains out."
"'As I took the rudder out of his hand, he recoiled a step and
exclaimed:
"'"It is Captain l'Endurci, as I live!"
"'"You know me, then?"
"'"Know you, captain! I made two voyages with you on the _Hell-hound_."
"'"And your name?"
"'"Simon from Dunkirk."
"'"I remember you now. So you intended to deliver me, your old captain,
into the hands of the English, did you?"
"'"May I be shot if I suspected for a single instant that it was you,
captain."
"'"So this smack belongs to you, I suppose."
"'"No, captain, to Bezelek."
"'"And where is he?"
"'"At the bottom of the sea. He was the man that you killed first and
that fell overboard."
"'"But how does it happen that you consented to have a hand in my
abduction?"
"'"Well, captain, we've been doing a little smuggling."
"'"That is very apparent."
"'"And night before last two men came to us,--that is one of them lying
there now."
"'He pointed to the dead man in the bow as he spoke.
"'"Throw him into the sea," I said, curtly.
"'"And the other man?" I inquired, as soon as this order had been
obeyed.
"'"He is down in the hold. He is the man you wounded in the arm."
"'"And how did these men induce you and Bezelek to become their
accomplices?"
"'"They said: 'Bezelek, there are fifty guineas ready for you if you
will consent to take a man we will bring to you to England. We do not
intend to injure him in any way; but if he resists, you and your men
will be expected to lend a hand in gagging and binding him, and placing
him in the hold of your fishing-smack. You will be paid twenty-five
guineas in advance, and twenty-five more on your arrival at
Folkestone.' As there seemed to be no great harm in the proceeding, the
offer tempted Bezelek and he agreed to do what the men asked. But I
swear that I had no idea it was you. If I had, I would never have had
anything to do with the affair."
"'Four hours after I escaped from the hold we were within sight of the
port of Mora, where I landed safe and sound.'
* * * * *
"Our readers will, we are sure, feel grateful to us," added the _Journal
of the Empire_, "for having given them this extract from the brave
privateer's letter. Thanks be to God, Captain l'Endurci, by his coolness
and courage, succeeded in escaping this most infamous conspiracy against
him. Let us hope that his name will long remain a terror to the enemies
of France."
The article concluded, Onésime laid the paper on the table.
"What a wonderful man this corsair must be!" exclaimed the housekeeper,
admiringly. "Alone, bound and gagged, he nevertheless found a way to
escape his imminent danger."
"But what a quantity of blood he had to shed!" exclaimed the girl,
shuddering. "And not a single word of regret or of pity for his victims.
With what cruel indifference he speaks of the men he killed in cold
blood; for thus taken by surprise, the poor creatures could offer no
resistance."
"That is true," murmured Onésime.
But his aunt did not even hear him, for, turning to the girl, she
exclaimed, warmly:
"It is very easy to talk, my child, but in such a position one certainly
has a right--"
"Ah, yes, my dear, you are probably going to say that this man was the
victim of the vilest treachery,--that he had an undoubted right to
recover his liberty at any cost, and that his ferocious disregard of
the lives of others is what people call courage and heroism. All this is
very possible. I am a poor judge, perhaps. I only tell you how it
impresses me. This account of his exploits excites only horror and
aversion in me."
"But a corsair is a corsair, my child. You certainly don't expect him to
be a saint. Each man according to his trade."
"It is an executioner's business to behead people, aunt, but that makes
his trade none the less horrible," exclaimed Onésime.
"Ah, I felt sure M. Onésime would feel as I do about it," said the girl,
quickly.
"He? oh, yes, I don't doubt it! He is a regular sissy. When did you ever
hear of his doing any fighting?"
"I admit that I am no hero, aunt," replied Onésime, smiling, "I don't
doubt in the least that if I were a prisoner, and obliged to kill
somebody to regain my liberty, I should remain a prisoner."
"Yours is the truest, noblest kind of courage, after all," responded the
young girl, warmly, for her dislike of warriors in general was perhaps
due in a great measure to the fact that Onésime, both by reason of his
temperament and his infirmity, was never likely to be a man of that
kind.
"Onésime courageous!" retorted the housekeeper. "You must be jesting!"
Then, turning to her nephew, she cried: "Don't you see that mademoiselle
is making fun of you, my poor boy? Oh, well, put my knitting on the
table for me, my brave hero, and hand me my work-box without dropping it
if you can."
The young man was consequently obliged to hold out both his hands in
turn, one to present the work-box, the other to take the knitting, and
as the light from the lamp fell full on the table, the pitiless aunt
instantly discovered the terrible burn he had received.
"Good Heavens! what is the matter with your hand?" she exclaimed.
"Nothing of any consequence, aunt," he replied, hastily drawing back his
hand, while the young girl, whose attention had been attracted by the
housekeeper's exclamation, turned toward him anxiously.
But the aunt sprang up, and, seizing her nephew's hand in spite of his
efforts to hide it, examined it carefully.
"It is frightfully burned, frightfully!" she cried. "Why, you must be
suffering agony with it. It was just done. How did it happen? I know. It
was when you poured the boiling water in the urn, and, for fear we would
laugh at you, you endured the terrible pain without a word. You even had
the courage to go on reading all this time just as if nothing had
happened."
"Ah, I told you that he was brave," exclaimed the young girl. "His is
the true courage, after all,--not the ferocious courage born of anger,
that seeks only to destroy, but the courage of noble hearts who, for
fear of alarming those whom they love, endure the most intense suffering
without so much as a sign."
The girl's emotion repaid the young man a thousand-fold for his
suffering; he even had the happiness of seeing the touching expression
of her features, too, this time, as she would insist upon assisting the
housekeeper in dressing Onésime's hand.
This work had just been completed, and Onésime was regretting that he
had only one burn, when the door of the little parlour was suddenly
thrown open, and a servant rushed in, exclaiming:
"Dame Roberts, Dame Roberts, M. Segoffin has come!"
"And my father,--my father has come too, has he not?" exclaimed the
girl, her face radiant with joy.
"No, mademoiselle, M. Segoffin says monsieur was detained at the
post-office by some letters, but that he will be here almost
immediately."
The girl hastened out of the room to prepare to meet her father. As the
door closed behind her, Dame Roberts turned to her nephew and said:
"Go up to your room now, Onésime. I will see you before I go to bed and
tell you what M. Cloarek says in relation to you, for he must know why I
took you into his house in his absence, though I know his kindness of
heart well enough to feel sure that he will approve of what I have
done."
So Onésime went up to his room oppressed by a vague uneasiness. He had
scarcely left the parlour, when M. Segoffin entered it.