THE EXTERMINATOR.
For some minutes a mournful silence--a complete calm, which, however,
was loaded with menace, hung heavily over the savannah.
At a whistle from the engagé, the dogs ranged themselves behind their
masters, with heads down, lips drawn back to display their sharp teeth,
and flashing eyes, they awaited the order to rush forward, though
without giving the slightest bark or growl.
L'Olonnais, leaning on his long fusil, was smoking his pipe quietly,
while casting sarcastic glances around.
Lepoletais occupied himself with the utmost order in arranging various
articles which had been deranged during his morning's operations.
The Major-domo, though in his heart he felt very anxious as to the
result of this apparently so disproportionate combat, was obliged to
grin and bear it--to use a familiar expression; for he was aware that
if he fell into the hands of his master, he had no mercy to expect
from him, after the manner in which he had thwarted his projects, by
favouring the flight of the Countess.
Don Sancho de Peñaflor, in spite of his natural levity and warlike
character, was not without anxiety either, for, as an officer of the
Spanish army, his place was not in the ranks of the buccaneers, but
with the soldiers who were preparing to attack them.
Doña Clara, kneeling by the side of the monk, with clasped hands,
eyes raised to heaven, and face inundated with tears, was fervently
imploring the protection of the Almighty.
As for Fray Arsenio, he was quietly sleeping.
Such was the picturesque aspect, imposing in its simplicity, offered
at this moment by the camp of the adventurers. Four men were preparing
coolly, and as if for the mere fun of the thing, to contend against
upwards of two hundred regular troops, from whom they knew that they
had no quarter to expect, but whom their insane resistance would
probably exasperate, and urge to measures of cruel violence.
In the meanwhile the circle was more and more contracted, and the heads
of the soldiers were already beginning to appear above the tall grass.
"Ah, ah!" said Lepoletais, rubbing his horney hands together with an
air of triumph--"I fancy it is time to open the ball; what do you say,
my boy?"
"Yes, this is the right moment," the engagé replied, as he went to
fetch a log from the fire.
"Mind not to stir from the spot where you are," Lepoletais recommended
the two Spaniards: "zounds! pay attention to this, or you will run a
risk of having your goose cooked," and he laid a stress on the last
words, with an evidently sarcastic meaning.
The buccaneers, before establishing their bivouac, had pulled up the
grass for a distance of about thirty paces all around the ajoupa; this
grass, dried and calcined by the heat of the sun, had been piled up at
the border of the cleared ground.
The engagé laid down his fusil, walked straight to this grass, set it
on fire, and then slowly returned to rejoin his companions.
The effect of this manoeuvre was instantaneous, a jet of flame suddenly
burst out, spread in all directions, and soon a large portion of the
savannah presented the appearance of a vast furnace.
The buccaneers laughed heartily at what they considered an excellent
joke.
The Spaniards, taken unawares, uttered cries of terror, and rapidly
recoiled, pursued by the flame, which constantly spread, and
continually advanced toward them.
Still, it was evident that the adventurers had no intention of
burning the unfortunate Spaniards alive; the fire lit by them had not
sufficient consistency for that; the grass burned and went out again
with extreme rapidity. Doubtless the sole result that the buccaneers
had wished to obtain, was to cause a panic terror to their enemies,
and cast disorder among them; and in this they had been perfectly
successful.
The soldiers, half roasted by the flames, fled, uttering cries of
terror before this sea of fire, which seemed incessantly to pursue
them, without thinking of looking back, or obeying their officers, and
having but one thought, escaping the terrible danger that menaced them.
While this was going on Lepoletais coolly explained to Don Sancho the
probable results of the expedient he had employed.
"You see, Señor," he said, "this blaze is nothing; it is an almost
inoffensive straw fire; in a few minutes, or half an hour at the
latest, it will be extinguished. If these men are cowards we shall have
got rid of them, if not, they will return, and then the affair will be
serious."
"But, as you recognize the inefficiency of this means, why did you
employ it? In my opinion it is more injurious than usual to our
defence."
The buccaneer shook his head several times.
"You do not understand," he said; "I had several motives for acting
thus. In the first place, however brave you may suppose your countrymen
to be, they are now demoralised, and it will be very difficult to
restore them the courage they no longer possess; on the other hand,
I was not sorry to see clearly around me, and sweep the savannah a
little, and lastly," he added, with a cunning look, "who told you that
the fire I lighted was not a signal?"
"A signal?" Don Sancho exclaimed; "Then you have friends near here?"
"Who knows? Señor, my companions are very active, and are frequently
met with when least expected."
"I confess that I do not understand a word of what you are saying to
me."
"Patience, Señor, patience! You will soon understand, I assure you,
and will not require any great effort of the intellect to do so.
L'Olonnais," he added, turning to his comrade, "I think you had better
go down there now."
"That is true," L'Olonnais replied, as he carelessly threw his fusil
over his shoulder, "he will be expecting me."
"Take some of the dogs with you."
"What for?"
"To guide you, my lad; it is not easy now to find one's way through the
ashes, for all the trails are covered."
The engagé called several dogs by their name, and went off without
replying, followed by a portion of the pack.
"There," Lepoletais continued, pointing to the engagé, who seemed to be
running, as he went at such a pace, "just look at that fellow, he is a
fine chap, eh? And how he behaves, though he has not been more than two
months in America; in three years from this time I predict to you that
he will be one of our most celebrated adventurers."
"Did you buy him?" Don Sancho asked, though but little interested in
details which had no importance for him.
"Unluckily, no, he has only been lent to me for a few days; he is
the engagé of Montbarts the Exterminator: I offered him two hundred
piastres for him, but he refused to sell him."
"What?" the young man exclaimed--"Montbarts, the celebrated filibuster?"
"The very man; he is a friend of mine."
"In that case he is close at hand?"
"That, Señor, is one of the things which you will learn shortly."
As the buccaneer had foreseen, the fire went out almost as quickly as
it blazed up, for want of aliment on this savannah, where only grass
and a few insignificant shrubs grew.
The Spaniards had sought shelter on the banks of the stream, whose
barren sand preserved them from contact with the fire. The forests,
too remote from the scene of the fire, had not caught, although a few
tongues of flame had played round their edge.
From the boucan it was easy to perceive the Spanish officers striving
to restore some degree of order among their troops, doubtless for the
purpose of attempting a new attack, although Lepoletais did not appear
at all alarmed. Among the officers one was especially remarkable; he
was on horseback, and was taking immense trouble to form the ranks, and
the other officers came up in turn to receive his orders.
This officer Don Sancho recognized at the first glance.
"This is what I feared," he muttered; "the Count has placed himself at
the head of the expedition, and we are lost."
In truth, it was Don Stenio de Bejar, who, on arriving at the hatto at
daybreak, and learning the flight of the Countess, resolved to command
the expedition.
The position of the adventurers was critical, reduced as they were
to three, encamped in the middle of a bare plain, and without
entrenchments of any description. Still, the confidence of the
buccaneer did not seem diminished, and it was with an ironical air that
he examined the preparations the enemy was making against him.
The Spaniards, formed again with great difficulty by the energy of
their officers, at last started, and proceeded once more toward the
boucan, while taking the same precautions as before, that is to say,
being careful to extend their front, so as to form a complete circle,
and entirely surround the encampment.
But the march of the Fifties was slow and measured; it was only with
extreme caution that the soldiers ventured on this scarcely cooled
ground, which might conceal fresh snares.
The Count, pointing to the boucan with his sword, in vain excited his
troops to press on, and finish with this handful of scoundrels who
dared to oppose His Majesty's troops; the soldiers would not listen,
and only advanced with greater caution, for the calmness and apparent
negligence of their enemies frightened them more than a hostile
demonstration, and must, in their opinion, be owing to some terrible
trap laid for them.
At this moment the situation was complicated by a strange episode; a
canoe crossed the stream, and ran ashore exactly at the spot which the
Spaniards had quitted only a few minutes previously.
This canoe contained five persons, three adventurers, and two Spaniards.
The adventurers stepped ashore as calmly as if they; were quite alone,
and pushing the two Spaniards before them, advanced resolutely toward
the soldiers.
The latter, astonished, confounded at such audacity, watched them
coming without daring to make a movement to oppose them.
These three adventurers were Montbarts, Michael the Basque, and
L'Olonnais, and seven or eight dogs followed them. The two Spaniards
walked unarmed in front of them, being alarmed about their fate, as was
proved by the pallor of their faces, and the startled glances which
they threw around them.
The Count, on perceiving the adventurers, uttered a cry of rage, and
bounded with uplifted sword to meet them.
"Down with the ladrones!" he cried.
The soldiers, ashamed of being held in check by three men, wheeled
round, and boldly advanced.
The adventurers were surrounded in an instant; but, without displaying
the slightest surprise at this manoeuvre, they also halted, and
standing shoulder to shoulder, faced all sides at once.
The soldiers instinctively stopped.
"Death!" the Count cried; "No mercy for the ladrones!"
"Silence," Montbarts replied; "before menacing, listen to the news
these two couriers bring you."
"Seize these villains!" the Count yelled again. "Kill them like dogs!"
"Nonsense," Montbarts remarked, ironically; "you are mad, my worthy
sir. Seize us! Why, I defy you to do it."
The three adventurers then emptied their powder flasks into their caps,
and placed their bullets on the top of it; then, holding in one hand
their caps thus converted into grenades, and in the other their lighted
pipes, they waited for the signal.
"Attention, brothers," Montbarts said; "and you scoundrels, make way,
there, unless you wish us to blow you all up."
And with a firm and measured step the three adventurers advanced toward
the Spaniards, who were struck with terror, and really opened their
ranks to make a passage for them.
"Oh!" Montbarts added, with a laugh, "Do not fear that we shall attempt
to fly; we only want to join our comrades."
Then was witnessed the extraordinary scene of two hundred men timidly
following at a respectful distance three filibusters, who, while
walking and smoking to keep their pipes from going out, did not cease
from jeering them for their cowardice.
Lepoletais was quite wild with delight: as for Don Sancho, he did
not know whether to feel most astonished at the mad temerity of the
French, or the cowardice of his countrymen.
The three adventurers thus most easily effected their junction with
their companions without having been once disturbed by the Spaniards
during a rather long walk. In spite of the prayers and exhortations of
the Count to his soldiers, the only thing he obtained from them was,
that they continued to advance instead of retreating, as they had a
manifest intention of doing.
But, while the adventurers thus drew the soldiers after them, and
concentrated their entire attention, a thing was happening which the
Count perceived when too late, and which began to cause him serious
alarm as to the result of his expedition.
In the rear of the centre formed by the Spanish soldiers, another
circle had been drawn up as if by enchantment, but the latter was
composed of buccaneers and red Caribs, at whose head Omopoua made
himself remarkable.
The adventurers and Indians had manoeuvred with so much intelligence,
vivacity, and silence, that the Spaniards were enveloped in a network
of steel, even before they had suspected the danger that menaced them.
The Count uttered an exclamation of rage, to which the soldiers
responded by a cry of terror.
The situation was, in fact, extremely critical for the unhappy
Spaniards, and unless a miracle occurred, it was literally impossible
for them to escape death.
In fact they had no longer to contend against a few men, resolute, it
is true, but whom numbers must eventually conquer, even at a sacrifice;
the filibusters were at least two hundred, and with their allies the
Caribs, formed an effective strength of five hundred men, all as brave
lions, and three hundred more than the Spaniards; the latter understood
that they were lost.
On arriving at the boucan, directly that he had squeezed Lepoletais'
hand and complimented him on the way in which he had contrived to
gain time, Montbarts gravely occupied himself with his comrades, in
restoring the powder and bullets to their respective receptacles, as he
probably judged that their caps might now be used for their legitimate
purpose.
While the filibuster was engaged in this occupation, Doña Clara, pale
as a corpse, fixed on him burning glances, though she did not venture
to approach him. At length she took courage, advanced a few paces and
murmured with an effort in a trembling voice and with clasped hands,--
"I am here, sir."
Montbarts trembled at the sound of this voice, and turned pale; but he
made an effort over himself and softened the rather hard expression of
his eye.
"I have come solely on your account, Madam," he replied with a polite
bow; "I shall have the honour of placing myself at your orders in
a moment; permit me first to make sure that our interview will be
uninterrupted."
Doña Clara hung her head and returned to her seat by the wounded man.
The adventurers had continued to advance and were soon scarce ten paces
from the Spaniards, whose terror was augmented by this disagreeable
vicinity.
"Hola, brothers!" Montbarts shouted in a powerful voice; "Halt, if you
please."
The filibusters instantaneously became motionless.
"And now, you fellows," the Admiral continued, addressing the soldiers;
"throw down your arms, unless you wish to be immediately shot."
All the lances and swords fell on the ground with a unanimity which
proved the desire of the soldiers not to have the menace carried into
effect.
"Surrender your sword, sir," Montbarts said to the Count.
"Never!" the latter exclaimed, as he made his horse curvet, and
advanced with upraised blade on the adventurer, from whom he was only
three paces distant.
At the same instant a fusil was discharged and the sword blade, struck
within an inch of the guard, was shivered; the Count found himself
disarmed. With a sudden movement Montbarts seized the horse's bridle
with one hand, and with the other hurled the Count from the saddle and
laid him prostrate on the ground.
"Patatras!" Lepoletais said laughingly, while reloading his fusil;
"What a deuced funny idea to try alone to resist five hundred men."
The Count rose quite confused by his fall; a livid pallor covered his
face, and his features were contracted by anger; all at once his eyes
fell upon the Countess.
"Ah!" He yelled with the cry of a tiger, as he darted towards her, "At
least I shall avenge myself."
But Montbarts seized him by the arm and rendered him motionless.
"One word, one gesture, and I blow out your brains like the wild beast
you are," he said to him.
There was such an accent of menace in the filibuster's words; his
interference had been so rapid that the Count, involuntarily cowed,
fell back with his arms folded on his chest and remained apparently
calm, although a volcano was at work in his heart, and his eyes were
obstinately fixed on the Countess.
Montbarts gazed for a moment at his enemy with an expression of pity
and contempt.
"You have desired, sir," he at length said to him ironically; "to try
your strength with the filibusters and will soon learn the cost; while
impelled by a mad desire of vengeance and inspired by an imaginary
jealousy, you were virulently pursuing a lady whose noble heart and
brilliant virtues you are incapable of appreciating, one half of the
island of which you are the governor has been torn forever from the
power of your sovereign, by my companions and myself; Tortuga, Leogane,
San Juan de Goava, and your hatto del Rincón, suddenly surprised, have
fallen without a blow."
The Count drew himself up, a feverish flush covered his face, he
advanced a step and cried in a voice choking with passion,--
"You lie, villain; however great your audacity may be, it is impossible
that you have succeeded in seizing the places you mention."
Montbarts shrugged his shoulders.
"An insult coming from lips like yours has no effect," he said, "you
shall soon have the confirmation of what I assert; but enough of this
subject; I wished to have you in my power in order that you may be
witness of what I have to say to this lady. Come," he added, addressing
Doña Clara; "come, madam, and forgive me for not wishing to see you
except in the presence of the man you call your husband."
On hearing the appeal, Doña Clara rose trembling, and tottered forward.
There was a momentary silence; Montbarts, with his head hanging on his
chest, seemed plunged in bitter thoughts; at length he drew himself up,
passed his hand over his forehead as if to drive away the mist that
obscured his reason, turned to Doña Clara, and said to her in a gentle
voice,--
"You desired to see me, madam, in order to remind me of a time forever
past, and to confide a secret to me. This secret I have no right to
know; the Count de Barmont is dead, dead to everybody, to you before
all, who did not blush to renounce him, and though you belonged to him
by legitimate ties, and before all by the more legitimate one of a
powerful love, cowardly permitted yourself to be chained to another;
this is a crime, madam, which no forgiveness can efface, either in the
present or past."
"Pity me, sir," the unhappy lady said, as she writhed beneath this
curse and burst into tears; "pity me, in the name of my remorse and my
sufferings!"
"What are you doing, madam?" the Count exclaimed, "Rise at once."
"Silence," Montbarts said in a harsh voice, "Allow this culprit to be
bowed beneath the weight of her repentance; you, who have been her
executioner, have less right than anyone else to protect her."
Don Sancho had rushed toward his sister and, roughly repulsing the
Count, raised her in his arms. Montbarts continued.
"I will only add one word, madam; the Count de Barmont had a child; on
the day when that child comes to ask his mother's pardon of me, I will
grant it--perhaps," he added in a faint voice.
"Oh!" the young lady exclaimed with a feverish energy, as she seized
the hand which the filibuster had not the courage to withdraw from her,
"Oh sir! You are great and noble, this promise restores me all my hope
and courage; oh! I swear to you, sir, I will find my child again."
"Enough, madam," Montbarts continued with ill suppressed emotion; "this
interview has lasted too long; here is your brother, he loves you, and
will be able to protect you; there is another person whom I regret
not to see here, for he would have advised and sustained you, in your
affliction."
"To whom do you allude?" Don Sancho asked.
"To the confessor of your sister."
The young man turned away without answering.
"Why, brother," Lepoletais here observed, "here he is half dead, look
at his burnt hands."
"Oh!" Montbarts exclaimed, "It is really he, who is the monster that
has dared--"
"Here he is!" the buccaneer replied, as he tapped the shoulder of the
Count, who was dumb with stupor and horror, for only at this moment did
he notice his victim.
Two flashes of flame started from Montbart's eyes.
"Villain," he exclaimed, "what, torture an inoffensive man! Oh,
Spaniards, race of vipers! What sufficiently horrible punishment could
I inflict on you!"
All his hearers trembled at this passion so long restrained, which had
at length burst its bonds and now overflowed with irresistible violence.
"By Heaven!" the filibuster exclaimed in a terrible voice, "It is
the worse for you, butcher, that you remind me I am Montbarts the
exterminator. L'Olonnais, prepare the fire under the barbacoas of the
boucan."
An indescribable terror seized on all the hearers of this order,
which clearly expressed to what a horrible punishment the Count was
condemned; Don Stenio himself, in spite of his indomitable pride, felt
a chill at his heart.
But at this moment, the monk, who had hitherto remained motionless on
his couch, and apparently insensible to what was going on, rose with
a painful effort, and leaning on the shoulders of Doña Clara and her
brother, tottered forward, and knelt with them to the filibuster.
"Pity," he exclaimed, "pity, in Heaven's name!"
"No," Montbarts replied harshly, "This man is condemned."
"I implore you, brother, be merciful," the monk went on to urge him.
All at once the Count drew two pistols from his doublet, and pointed
one at Doña Clara, while he placed the other against his own forehead.
"Of what use is it to implore a tiger," he said, "I die, but by my own
hands, and I die avenged," and he pulled the trigger.
The double detonation was blended in one.
The Count fell dead on the ground; the second shot badly aimed did not
strike Doña Clara, but Fray Arsenio, and laid him dying at the foot of
his assassin. The last word of the poor monk was, "pity!"
And he expired with his eyes fixed on heaven, as if with a last prayer
addressed in favour of his murderer.
* * * * *
At sunset the savannah had returned to its habitual solitude;
Montbarts, after having the victim and the assassin interred in the
same grave, doubtless that the just man might protect the culprit in
the presence of the Most High, set out for Port Margot, at the head of
the filibusters and Caribs.
Doña Clara and her brother returned to the hatto del Rincón,
accompanied by the Spanish soldiers, to whom Montbarts had consented to
restore their liberty, through consideration for the two young people.