"Sir, you have saved my life!"
The old man had resumed his impassible attitude, and made no reply.
* * * * * *
The man had conquered; but it might be affirmed that the cannon also
had gained a victory. Immediate shipwreck was averted; but the
corvette was still in danger. The injuries the ship had sustained
seemed irreparable. There were five breaches in the sides, one of
them--a very large one--in the bow, and twenty carronades out of thirty
lay shattered in their frames. The recaptured gun, which had been
secured by a chain, was itself disabled. The screw of the
breech-button being wrenched, it would consequently be impossible to
level the cannon. The battery was reduced to nine guns; there was a
leakage in the hold. All these damages must be repaired without loss
of time, and the pumps set in operation. Now that the gun-deck had
become visible, it was frightful to look upon. The interior of a mad
elephant's cage could not have been more thoroughly devastated.
However important it might be for the corvette to avoid observation,
the care for its immediate safety was still more imperative. They were
obliged to light the deck with lanterns placed at intervals along the
sides.
In the meantime, while this tragic entertainment had lasted, the crew,
entirely absorbed by a question of life and death, had not noticed what
was going on outside of the ship. The fog had thickened, the weather
had changed, the wind had driven the vessel at will; they were out of
their course, in full sight of Jersey and Guernsey, much farther to the
south than they ought to have been, and confronting a tumultuous sea.
The big waves kissed the wounded sides of the corvette with kisses that
savored of danger. The heaving of the sea grew threatening; the wind
had risen to a gale; a squall, perhaps a tempest, was brewing. One
could not see four oars' length before one.
While the crew made haste with their temporary repairs on the gun-deck,
stopping the leaks and setting up the cannons that had escaped
uninjured, the old passenger returned to the deck.
He stood leaning against the main-mast.
He had taken no notice of what was going on in the ship. The Chevalier
de la Vieuville had drawn up the marines on either side of the
main-mast, and at a signal-whistle of the boatswain the sailors, who
had been busy in the rigging, stood up on the yards. Count
Boisberthelot approached the passenger. The captain was followed by a
man, who, haggard and panting, with his dress in disorder, still wore
on his countenance an expression of content.
It was the gunner who had so opportunely displayed his power as a tamer
of monsters, and gained the victory over the cannon.
The count made a military salute to the old man in the peasant garb,
and said to him:--
"Here is the man, general."
The gunner, with downcast eyes, stood erect in a military attitude.
"General," resumed Count Boisberthelot, "considering what this man has
done, do you not think that his superiors have a duty to perform?"
"I think so," replied the old man.
"Be so good as to give your orders," resumed Boisberthelot.
"It is for you to give them; you are the captain."
"But you are the general," answered Boisberthelot.
The old man looked at the gunner.
"Step forward," he said.
The gunner advanced a step.
Turning to Count Boisberthelot, the old man removed the cross of Saint
Louis from the captain's breast, and fastened it on the jacket of the
gunner. The sailors cheered, and the marines presented arms.
Then pointing to the bewildered gunner he added:
"Now let the man be shot!"
Stupor took the place of applause.