AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.
Soon after M. Cloarek left the house in company with Onésime, Segoffin
might have been seen standing on the garden terrace with an old
spy-glass levelled on an object that seemed to be absorbing his
attention and exciting his surprise and curiosity to the highest pitch.
The object was a vessel that he had just discovered in the offing and
that elicited the following comments as he watched its evolutions.
"It seems preposterous! Am I dreaming, or is that really our brig? It
must be! That rigging, that mast, those lines, are certainly hers, and
yet it cannot be. That is not her hull. With her barbette guns she sat
as low in the water as a whaler. I don't see a single gun poking its
nose out of this craft, though. No, no, it is not, of course it is not.
This vessel is painted a dark gray, while the _Hell-hound_ was black
with scarlet stripes. And yet that big sail perched so rakishly over the
stem, that rigging fine as a spider's web, there never was a vessel
built except the _Hell-hound_ that could carry such a stretch of canvas
as that. But what an ass I am! She is putting about, so there's a sure
way of satisfying myself of the identity I wish to verify, as M. Yvon
used to say when he wore the robes of office and amused himself by
throwing chief justices out of the window,--that is to read the name on
her stern, as I shall be able to do in a minute or two, and--"
But Segoffin's soliloquy was here interrupted by a familiar tap on the
shoulder, and, turning quickly, he found himself face to face with
Suzanne.
"That which is done can not be undone, but the devil take you, my dear,
for disturbing me just at this time!" exclaimed M. Cloarek's head
gunner, raising his glass to his eye again.
But unfortunately he was too late. The brig had completed the evolution,
and the name on her stern was no longer visible, so the verification of
her identity which Segoffin contemplated had become impossible.
"So the devil may have me and welcome, may he?" responded Suzanne,
tartly. "You are very polite, I must say."
"Frankness is a duty between old friends like ourselves," said Segoffin,
casting a regretful glance seaward. "I came here to amuse myself by
watching the passing ships, and you had to come and interrupt me."
"You are right; frankness is a duty between us, Segoffin, so I may as
well tell you, here and now, that no stone-deaf person was ever harder
to wake than you."
"How do you know? Unfortunately for me and for you, Suzanne, you have
never had a chance to see how I sleep," responded the head gunner, with
a roguish smile.
"You are very much mistaken, for I rapped at your door last night."
"Ah!" exclaimed Segoffin, winking his only remaining eye with a
triumphant air, "I have often told you that you would come to it sooner
or later, and you have."
"Come to what?" inquired the housekeeper, without the slightest
suspicion of her companion's real meaning.
"To stealing alone and on tiptoe to my room to--"
"You are an abominably impertinent creature, M. Segoffin. I rapped at
your door to ask your aid and protection."
"Against whom?"
"But you are such a coward that you just lay there pretending to be
asleep and taking good care not to answer me."
"Tell me seriously, Suzanne,--what occurred last night? Did you really
think you needed me?"
"Hear that, will you! They might have set fire to the house and murdered
us, it wouldn't have made the slightest difference to you. M. Segoffin
was snug in bed and there he remained."
"Set fire to the house and murdered you! What on earth do you mean?"
"I mean that two men tried to break into this house last night."
"They were two of your lovers, doubtless."
"Segoffin!"
"You had probably made a mistake in the date--"
But the head gunner never finished the unseemly jest. His usually
impassive features suddenly assumed an expression of profound
astonishment, succeeded by one of fear and anxiety. The change, in fact,
was so sudden and so striking that Dame Roberts, forgetting her
companion's impertinent remarks, exclaimed:
"Good Heavens, Segoffin, what is the matter with you? What are you
looking at in that way?"
And following the direction of Segoffin's gaze, she saw a stranger,
preceded by Thérèse, advancing toward them. The newcomer was a short,
stout man with a very prominent abdomen. He wore a handsome blue coat,
brown cassimere knee-breeches, high top-boots, and a long white
waistcoat, across which dangled a double watch-chain lavishly decorated
with a number of charms. In one hand he held a light cane with which he
gaily switched the dust from his boots, and in the other he held his
hat, which he had gallantly removed at the first sight of Dame Roberts.
This newcomer was Floridor Verduron, the owner of the brig _Hell-hound_,
usually commanded by Captain l'Endurci.
Up to this time Cloarek had concealed from Verduron his real name as
well as the motives which had led him to take up privateering. He had
also taken special pains to keep his place of abode a secret from the
owner of the privateer, a mutual friend having always served as an
intermediary between the captain and the owner. Consequently, the dismay
of the head gunner can be readily imagined when he reflected that, as
the captain's real name and address had been discovered by M. Verduron,
and that gentleman was wholly ignorant of the double part M. Cloarek was
playing, his very first words were likely to unwittingly reveal a secret
of the gravest importance. M. Verduron's presence also explained, at
least in part, the arrival of the brig Segoffin had seen a short time
before, and which he fancied he recognised under the sort of disguise he
could not yet understand.
Meanwhile, M. Floridor Verduron was coming nearer and nearer. Suzanne
noted this fact, and remarked:
"Who can this gentleman be? What a red face he has! I never saw him
before. Why don't you answer me, Segoffin? Good Heavens, how strangely
you look! And you are pale, very much paler than usual."
"It is the redness of this man's face that makes me look pale by
contrast, I suppose," replied Segoffin, seeing himself confronted by a
danger he was powerless to avert.
The servant, who was a few steps in advance of the visitor, now said to
Suzanne:
"Dame Roberts, here is a gentleman who wishes to see the master on very
important business, he says."
"You know very well that monsieur has gone out."
"That is what I told the gentleman, but he said he would wait for his
return, as he must see monsieur."
As Thérèse finished her explanation of the intrusion, M. Verduron, who
prided himself upon his good manners, and who had won fame in his
earlier days as a skilful dancer of the minuet, paused about five yards
from Dame Roberts and made her a very low bow, with his elbows
gracefully rounded, his heels touching each other, and his feet forming
the letter V.
Dame Roberts, flattered by the homage rendered to her sex, responded
with a ceremonious curtsey, saying _sotto voce_ to Segoffin the while,
with a sarcastically reproachful air:
"Notice how a polite gentleman ought to accost a lady."
M. Floridor Verduron, advancing a couple of steps, made another profound
bow, to which Suzanne responded with equal deference, murmuring to
Segoffin as if to pique him or arouse his emulation:
"These are certainly the manners of a grandee,--of an ambassador, in
fact."
The head gunner, instead of replying, however, tried to get as much out
of sight as possible behind an ever-green. M. Verduron's third and last
salute (he considered three bows obligatory) was too much like the
others to deserve any especial mention, and he was about to address
Suzanne when he caught sight of the head gunner.
"What! you here?" he exclaimed, with a friendly nod. "I didn't see you,
you old sea-wolf. And how is your eye getting along?"
"I have no use of it, as you see, M. Verduron, but don't let's talk
about that, I beg of you. I have my reasons."
"I should think so, my poor fellow, for it would be rather making light
of misfortune, wouldn't it, madame?" asked the visitor, turning to
Suzanne, who bowed her assent with great dignity, and then said:
"The servant tells me you wish to see M. Cloarek on pressing business,
monsieur."
"Yes, my dear madame, very pressing," replied the ship owner, gallantly.
"It is doubtless to monsieur's wife I have the honour of speaking, and
in that case, I--"
"Pardon me, monsieur, I am only the housekeeper."
"What! the cap--"
But the first syllable of the word captain had not left the ship owner's
lips before the head gunner shouted at the top of his voice, at the same
time seizing Suzanne suddenly by the arm:
"In Heaven's name, look! See there!"
The housekeeper was so startled that she uttered a shrill cry and did
not even hear the dread syllable the visitor had uttered, but when she
had partially recovered from her alarm, she exclaimed, sharply:
"Really, this is intolerable, Segoffin. You gave me such a scare I am
all of a tremble now."
"But look over there," insisted the head gunner, pointing toward the
cliffs; "upon my word of honour, one can hardly believe one's eyes."
"What is it? What do you see?" asked the ship owner, gazing intently in
the direction indicated.
"It seems impossible, I admit. I wouldn't have believed it myself if
anybody had told me."
"What is it? What are you talking about?" demanded Suzanne, her
curiosity now aroused, in spite of her ill-humour.
"It is unaccountable," mused the head gunner, to all appearance lost in
a sort of admiring wonder. "It is enough to make one wonder whether one
is awake or only dreaming."
"But what is it you see?" cried the ship owner, no less impatiently than
the housekeeper. "What are you talking about? Where must we look?"
"You see that cliff there to the left, don't you?"
"To the left?" asked the ship owner, ingenuously, "to the left of what?"
"To the left of the other, of course."
"What other?" demanded Suzanne, in her turn.
"What other? Why, don't you see that big white cliff that looks like a
dome?"
"Yes," answered the ship owner.
"Well, what of it?" snapped Suzanne.
"Look, high up."
"High up, Segoffin?"
"Yes, on the side."
"On the side?"
"Yes, don't you see that bluish light playing on it?"
"Bluish light?" repeated the ship owner, squinting up his eyes and
arching his hand over them to form a sort of shade.
"Yes, high up, near the top! The deuce take me if it isn't turning red
now! Look, will you! Isn't it amazing? But come, M. Verduron, come,
let's get a closer look at it," added Segoffin, seizing the ship owner
by the arm and trying to drag him away.
"One moment," exclaimed M. Verduron, releasing himself from the head
gunner's grasp, "to take a closer look at anything one must first have
seen it at a distance, and the devil take me if I can see anything at
all. And you, madame?"
"I don't, I am sure, monsieur."
Segoffin would perhaps have attempted to prolong the illusion by
endowing the light with all the other colours of the rainbow, but the
approach of another and even greater danger extinguished his inventive
genius.
He heard Sabine's voice only a few feet from him, exclaiming:
"What are you all looking at, my dear Suzanne?"
"Mlle. Sabine!" Segoffin mentally exclaimed. "All is lost! Poor child!
Such a revelation will kill her, I fear."