THE DUKE RELATES THE SACRIFICE TO WHICH HE OWES HIS LIFE.
The chevalier, profoundly moved by the recital of Monmouth, furtively
brushed aside his tears, and said, "I understand now what that animal
Rutler, with his everlasting dagger, meant by speaking to me of my
execution."
"Angela, Angela, my child," exclaimed the duke, lifting his noble
countenance bathed in tears, and pressing the young woman to his heart,
"how can you ever forgive me the murder of Sidney, my friend, my
brother, your only relative, your only protector."
"Alas! have you not replaced him to me, James? I have bewailed his
death, believing him killed on the field of battle. Do you believe that
my regrets will be greater, now that I know that he sacrificed his life
for you--that he did what I would gladly do for you, James, my lover, my
husband!"
"Angela! best beloved guardian angel of my life!" cried the duke; "your
words cannot assuage the violence of my remorse, but at least you know
what religious gratitude I have always had for Sidney, this holy martyr
to friendship. What more can I tell you? I passed two days in a state
bordering on madness; when I returned to myself I found a letter of
Sidney's. He had arranged that I should not receive it until the evening
of the day on which he died for me. He explained his pious falsehood; he
had not seen King James."
"He had not seen him!" exclaimed Angela.
"No; all that he had said to me was false. So you can understand that I
had reason to forever curse the culpable facility with which I had
allowed myself to be persuaded. Meanwhile he had died for me; the fable
which I had believed in now seemed monstrous folly. No, he had not seen
the king! From the depository of my precious stones, he had subtracted
wherewith to procure a sum sufficient to gain over one of the officers
of the Tower, whom he besought to allow him to see me for the last time.
Was this officer in league with Sidney as to the substitution of some
one who desired to save me? or was he deceived by the resemblance to
such an extent that he suspected nothing. I do not know. The following
day, when they went to seek Sidney, he followed the hangman, but he
refused to speak for fear his voice would be recognized. The sacrifice
was accomplished," said Monmouth, wiping his tears away, which had not
ceased to fall during his recital. "I quitted London secretly and went
to France under a false name, in order to seek you, Angela. Sidney had
given me full power to take her away from the persons to whom he had
confided her," said the duke, addressing Croustillac. "Struck by her
beauty, her candor, and her other adorable traits, I, believing myself
worthy and able to fulfill the last wishes of Sidney in making his
adopted child happy, married this angel. We started for the Spanish
colonies, where I believed we would be safe. We took the greatest
precautions not to be recognized. By chance I encountered an English
captain at Cuba whom I had seen at Amsterdam. I believed myself
discovered. We left. After a journey of some months, we established
ourselves here. In order to divert suspicion, to watch over my wife, and
not wishing to be condemned to an imprisonment which would have been
fatal to me, I assumed, by turns, the disguises which you are aware of,
and I could, with impunity, traverse the island. Thanks to my precious
stones, we were able to purchase a number of small vessels, through the
good offices of Master Morris, a man of great probity, who knew, without
being in the secret, what to think of the pretended widowhoods of my
wife. Not only our commercial vessels increased little by little our
fortune, which we shall bequeath to our children, but they afford us
always a means of flight. The Chameleon was built for this very purpose,
and I have sometimes commanded in the guise of a filibuster, and
encountered a Spanish pirate, much to the fright of Angela. We were
living here very happily, almost peacefully, when I learned that the
Chevalier de Crussol, whose life I had once saved, had become the
governor of the island. Although he was a man of honor, I feared to tell
him who I was. My first idea was to quit Martinique with my wife; but I
then learned of the declaration of war from France to England, Spain and
Holland, and that certain rumors began to circulate in England as to the
miraculous manner in which I had been saved. My partisans were
bestirring themselves, it was said. I could expect no justice from
William of Orange, and believed myself safer in this colony than
anywhere else. I remained, therefore, in spite of the presence of De
Crussol, but redoubled my precautions. The pretended widowhoods of my
wife, the frequent visits of the filibuster, the Caribbean, and the
buccaneer, furnished a collection of facts so incomprehensible that it
was impossible to distinguish the truth, which was in our favor. We
were, however, much troubled.
"Monsieur de Crussol, curious to know the strange woman of whom such
different tales were related, came to Devil's Cliff. Fate ordained that
I should be there, also, in the disguise of the buccaneer. I could not
avoid meeting the governor, whom we were far from expecting. In spite of
the thick beard which disguised my features, De Crussol had preserved
too clear a remembrance of me not to recognize me; but, in order to
assure himself of the truth, he said to me abruptly, 'You are not what
you appear.' Fearing that all would be disclosed to Angela, who knew
that I was a fugitive, but who was ignorant of the dangers to which I
would be exposed if my existence was known, I said to De Crussol, 'In
memory of a past service, I ask silence, but I will tell you all;' and I
did not hide anything from him. He swore on his honor to keep my secret
and do everything in his power to prevent our being disturbed. He kept
his promise, but in dying----"
"He told Father Griffen everything from scruples of conscience," said
Croustillac.
"How do you know that?" said the duke.
Croustillac then told Monmouth how the mystery of Devil's Cliff had been
revealed to the confessor of King James, and how Father Griffen had
unintentionally betrayed him.
"Now, chevalier," said Monmouth, "you know at the price of what an
admirable sacrifice I owe this life which I have sworn to consecrate to
Angela. I have related to you the frightful remorse which the devotion
of Sidney causes me. You understand, I hope, that I cannot expose myself
to new and cruel regrets by causing your destruction."
"Ah, you think, your highness, that what you have told me will take from
me any desire to devote my life to you? Zounds! you are greatly
mistaken."
"How?" exclaimed the duke, "you persist?"
"I persist? I persist more than ever, if you please, and for a very
simple reason. Hold, sir! why should I hide it from you? A short time
since it was more for the sake of the duchess that I wished to serve
you, than for interest in you; this is no offense to you, for I did not
know you; but now, that I see what you are; now, that I see how you
regret your friends, and how gratefully you remember them, and what they
do for you, your wife may be a real Blue Beard, she may be the devil in
person, she may be in love with all the buccaneers and the cannibals of
the Antilles, but I will do for you all that I would have done for the
duchess, sir."
"But, chevalier----"
"But, your highness, all I can say to you is that you have inspired me
with the desire to be a second Sidney to you; that is all. Zounds! it is
very simple; one never inspires such devotion unless one merits it."
"I wish to believe you, chevalier, but a person is unworthy such
devotion when he accepts it willingly."
"Zounds, sir; without offense, I must say you are as pig-headed in your
generosity as that Flemish bear was insupportable with his everlasting
dagger. Come, let us reason together. What you most desire, is it not,
is to save me from prison?"
"Doubtless."
"Now I do not think you are very anxious to abandon the duchess. Well,
by telling De Chemerant who you are, would you save me? I am not much of
a lawyer but it seems to me that that is the question, is it not,
madame?"
"He is right, my love," said Angela, looking at her husband
beseechingly.
"To proceed," said Croustillac proudly. "Now, you say to this good
Chemerant, 'Sir, I am the Duke of Monmouth, and the chevalier here is
only a scapegoat.' So be it; so far all goes well. But at this stage the
good Chemerant will reply, 'Your highness, do you or do you not consent
to head this insurrection in England?"
"Never! never!" cried the duke.
"Very well, your highness, now I know what insurrection has cost you.
Now I have the honor of knowing the duchess; like you I say, 'Never!'
only what will the good Chemerant say to this? The good Chemerant will
say, 'You are my prisoner,' is it not so?"
"Unhappily it is very likely," said Monmouth.
"Alas! it is only too true!" said Angela.
"'As to this rascal, this schemer,' the good Chemerant will continue,
addressing himself to me," said Croustillac, "'as to this imposter, this
sharper, as he has impudently imposed upon me, so that I confided to him
a half-dozen secrets of state, each more important than the other,
particularly as to how the confessors of the great kings have played the
game of the poisoned shoulder-knot with their penitents, he shall be
treated as he deserved.' Now the said Chemerant, so much the more
furious that I had caused him to make such a fool of himself, will not
handle me very gently, and I may consider myself very lucky if he leaves
me to perish in a dungeon, instead of hanging me quickly (seeing his
full power), which would be another method of reducing me very
effectually to silence."
"Oh! do not speak so, the idea is frightful," cried Angela.
"You see well, then, generous madman, the imminent danger to which you
are exposed," said the duke to him tenderly.
"Now, your highness," said the Gascon with imperturbable calm, "as I
said a short time ago, to madame, as I believed her madly in love with a
certain fellow of leathern tint, it is clear that one does not devote
oneself to people to the sole end of being crowned with roses and
caressed by sylvan nymphs. It is the danger that constitutes the
sacrifice. But that is not the question. In delivering yourself up as
prisoner to the good Chemerant, do you in any way spare me prison or
scaffold, sir?"
"But, chevalier----"
"But, sir, I shall pursue you constantly with this argument _ad hominum_
(that is all my Latin), as the Belgian pursued me with his everlasting
dagger."
"You deceive yourself, my worthy and brave chevalier, in believing that
your situation is so desperate, when I shall have delivered myself up to
Chemerant."
"Prove it to me, your highness."
"Without insisting too much upon my rank and my position, they are such
that one would be always obliged to account for with me. So, when I say
to De Chemerant, that it is my desire that you be not punished for a
trait which does you honor, I do not doubt that De Chemerant will be
eager to please me and put you at liberty."
"Your highness, allow me to say that you are entirely mistaken."
"But what more could he ask? Should I not be in his power? What would
your capture amount to to him?"
"Your highness, you have been a statesman; you have been a conspirator;
you are a great nobleman, consequently you must know men; you reason,
pardon my bluntness, as if you did not know them at all, or rather, your
generous desires in my behalf blind you."
"No, indeed, sir----"
"Listen to me, your highness. You concede, do you not, that the news
that comes from England, and the part Louis XIV. has taken in this
conspiracy, prove the importance of Chemerant's mission?"
"Without doubt."
"You will, therefore, concede, your highness, that Chemerant relies upon
the success of this mission for his good fortune?"
"That is true."
"Well, your highness, by refusing to take part in this insurrection,
you leave Chemerant only the part of a jailer; your capture cannot make
a success of the enterprise in which these two kings have so lively an
interest. Then, believe me, you will cut a very sorry figure asking
clemency of Chemerant, above all, at a time when he will be furious at
seeing his hopes destroyed; above all, when he knows that the man in
whose favor you intercede has made him see numberless stars at full
noon. Believe me, then, your highness, by accepting all Chemerant's
propositions, by seconding the plans of these two kings, you could
scarcely hope to secure my pardon."
"James! what he says is full of wisdom," said Angela. "I would not
counsel you to be cowardly or egotistical, but he is right, you cannot
deny it."
The duke bent his head without answering.
"I indeed believe I am right," said Croustillac. "I am wrong often
enough once, by chance, to have common sense."
"But, for the love of heaven, at least look things in the face, if I
accept," said the duke, taking both hands of Croustillac in his own.
"You must conduct me and my wife on board the Chameleon; we will hoist
sail and will be saved."
"All right, your highness, that is how I like to hear you speak!"
"Yes, we shall be saved, but you, unhappy man, you will return on the
frigate with Chemerant, and when you are brought face to face with my
friends, your ruse will be discovered and you will be lost!"
"Zounds! sir, how you go on! Without offending you, you then look upon
me as a pitiful fellow; you deprive me of all imagination, of all
ingenuity. If I am not mistaken, it is some distance to the Cayman's
Creek, at Fort Royal?"
"About three leagues," said the duke.
"Very well, your highness, in this country three leagues are three
hours, and in three hours a man like myself has at least six chances of
escaping. I have long legs and strong as a stag's. The companion of
Rend-your-Soul has taught me how to walk," replied the Gascon, smiling
with a malicious air. "Now I swear to you that it will make the good
Chemerant's escort take some pretty lively strides to keep up with me."
"And you desire that I should allow you to stake your life on a chance
as doubtful as that of an escape, when thirty soldiers, used to the
country, would instantly be on your track?" said the duke. "Never!"
"And you desire, your highness, that I place my life, my salvation on a
chance as uncertain as the clemency of the good Chemerant?"
"At least I should not sacrifice you to a certainty, and the chances are
equal," said the duke.
"Equal!" cried the adventurer indignantly. "Equal, your highness? Do you
dare compare yourself with me? Who am I? and what purpose do I serve
here below if not to carry an old sword at my side, and to live here and
there according to the whims of humankind? I am nothing, I do nothing, I
have nothing to care for. To whom is my life of any use? Who interests
himself about me? Who even knows if Polypheme de Croustillac exists or
not?"
"Chevalier, you are not right, and----"
"Zounds! your highness, you belong to the duchess, the adopted child of
Sidney. If he died for you, it is the least you can do to live for her
whom he loved as his own child! If you reduce her to despair, she may
die of grief, and you will have two victims instead of one to lament."
"But once more, chevalier----"
"But!" cried Croustillac, with a significant glance at Angela, and
beginning to talk loudly enough to deafen one, thus drowning the voice
of the duke, "But you are a miserable wretch! an insolent fellow! to
speak so to me! Help! help! come to my assistance!"
Then Croustillac said rapidly, and in a low tone, to the duke, "You
force me to do this, your highness, for I have no alternative." And the
adventurer began to shout at the top of his lungs.
The duke, paralyzed with surprise, remained motionless and looked at him
in stupefaction.
At the cry of the Gascon, six men, forming a portion of the escort,
which De Chemerant had stationed as sentinels in the gallery by the
request of Croustillac, rushed into the room.
"Gag this rascal! gag him instantly!" cried Croustillac, who trembled at
the fear that Chemerant might enter at this juncture.
The soldiers obeyed the chevalier's order; they threw themselves upon
the duke, who cried, as he struggled with them, "I am the prince; I am
Monmouth."
Happily, these dangerous words were stifled by the loud cries of the
chevalier, who, from the beginning of this scene, pretended to be a prey
to the greatest anger, and stamped his foot with rage.
One of the soldiers, with the aid of his scarf, succeeded in gagging the
duke, who was thus prevented from speaking.
Chemerant, attracted by the noise, entered quickly. He found Angela pale
and greatly agitated. While she understood the reason of this struggle,
she could not help being deeply moved.
"What has he done, then? your highness," cried Chemerant.
"That miserable wretch made such abominably insolent propositions to me
that, in spite of my contempt for him, I was obliged to have him
gagged."
"Your highness, you were right; but I foresaw that this miserable wretch
would break his ominous silence!"
"This scene, however," cried Croustillac, "was not without its use. I
was still hesitating, yes, I avow it, I was weak enough to. Now the die
is cast; the guilty ones shall suffer for their crime. Let us start at
once for the Cayman's Cove; I have sent my orders to Captain Ralph; I
shall not be content until I have seen them embark, under my own eyes;
then we will return to Fort Royal."
"Do you really wish to be present at this sad scene, your highness?"
"Do I wish to? I would not give up that precious moment for the throne
of England! I shall go to the vessel, and see these two criminals set
sail for their destination where the breath of my vengeance will take
them!"
"It is final, then, that you insist upon this?" said De Chemerant, still
hesitating.
"It is final," returned Croustillac, in a most imposing and threatening
voice, all in admirable accord with the part he played; "I expect to be
obeyed when my orders are just. Make all preparations for the departure,
I beg of you; if this miserable wretch does not choose to walk, he shall
be carried; but above all, see that he is securely gagged, for if he
should offer any further insolence I do not desire to hear it at any
price."
One of the soldiers assured himself that the gag was securely tied;
taking the duke, they tied his hands behind his back, and marched him
off under guard.
"Are you ready, De Chemerant?" said Croustillac.
"Yes, your highness, I have only to give some orders to my men."
"Go, then, I will await you; I also have some orders to give."
The governor saluted and withdrew.