CHAPTER XXIX.

THE DEPARTURE.

Angela and the chevalier were alone.

"Saved! saved by you!" cried Angela.

"I would have wished to use different means, madame, but, without

reproach to the duke, he is as obstinate as I am. It was impossible to

do differently. There only remain a few moments now in which we may act.

Chemerant will return; let us think of what is most pressing. Your

diamonds--where are they? Go quickly and get them, madame. Take them

with you. Once all is discovered, beware of confiscation."

"The stones are there, in a secret box, in the duke's apartment."

"Go quickly and get them. I will ring for Mirette to get you some

clothing."

"Generous friend! But you! Oh God!"

"Be quiet; when I have no longer need to protect you, I will look out

for myself. But quick! get your diamonds. Chemerant will be here

shortly; I will ring for Mirette." The chevalier touched the bell.

Angela disappeared through the door leading to the duke's private

apartments.

Mirette appeared.

"She is very pretty, this little duchess," mused Croustillac to himself,

"very pretty. Oh, this time I am struck to the heart, I know it only too

well. I shall never forget her. This is love; yes, this is true love.

Happily this danger will distract me, or these emotions would make me

dizzy. Ah! there she comes!"

Angela entered carrying a small box. "We have always kept these stones

in reserve, in case we should be suddenly compelled to fly," said she to

Croustillac. "Our fortune is a thousand times assured. Alas! why is it

that you----"

The young woman paused, fearing to offend the Gascon; then she continued

sadly, with tears in her eyes, "You must have thought me very ignoble,

did you not, in accepting without hesitation your noble sacrifice? But

you will be kind and indulgent. It was necessary in order to save the

one who is the dearest object in the world to me--the man for whom I

would give my own life a thousand times over. But wait, this is

frightful egotism, to speak to you thus, to you whom I owe everything,

and who are going, perhaps, to death for me. I am mad! Forgive me."

"Not another word on this subject, madame, I beg of you. Here is the

duke's sword, it was his father's; here also is this little box which

his mother gave him. These are precious relics; put them all in this

large basket."

"Good and generous man!" exclaimed Angela, who was deeply moved; "you

think of everything!"

Croustillac made no reply; he turned his head away in order that the

duchess should not see the great tears rolling down his cheeks. He

extended his large, bony hands to the duchess, and said, in a stifled

voice, "Adieu, forever adieu! You will forget that I am a poor devil of

a fellow and you will remember me sometimes as----"

"As our best friend, as our brother," said Angela, bursting into tears.

Then she took from her pocket a small medallion containing her cipher,

and said to Croustillac, "See what I returned to the house to seek this

evening. I desired to offer you this token of our friendship; it was in

bringing it to you that I overheard your conversation with Colonel

Rutler. Accept it, it will be a double souvenir of our friendship and of

your generosity."

"Give it to me! oh, give it to me!" cried the Gascon, and then, pressing

it to his lips, he said, "I am more than paid for what I have done for

you, for the duke----"

"We are not ingrates. As soon as the duke is safe, we shall not leave

you in the power of Chemerant, and----"

"Here is Mirette; let us resume our role," cried Croustillac,

interrupting the duchess.

Mirette entered, followed by the slave, carrying in her hand

Croustillac's old sword; a soldier bore the basket containing the

clothes.

Angela placed the box of diamonds and Monmouth's sword in the basket.

Chemerant entered the room, saying, "Your highness, all is in

readiness."

"Offer madame your arm, if you please," said the chevalier to Chemerant,

with a gloomy manner.

Angela appeared struck with a sudden thought and said to the chevalier,

"Sir, I wish to say something, privately, to Father Griffen. Do you

refuse me this last petition?"

"Just now, your highness, the good Father, hearing the noise, came to

ask if he might speak to madame."

"He is here!" cried Angela, "God be praised!"

"Let him enter," said the Gascon gloomily.

Chemerant bowed and the guard withdrew.

Father Griffen entered. He was grave and sad.

"My Father," said Angela, "can you give me some moments' interview?"

So saying, she entered a room near by, followed by the priest.

"Your highness," said Chemerant, showing a paper to the Gascon, "here is

a letter which was found on the person of Colonel Rutler; it leaves no

doubts as to the plots of William of Orange against your highness.

Rutler will be shot upon our arrival at Fort Royal."

"We will speak of that later, sir, but I lean toward clemency in the

colonel's case--not through weakness, but from policy. I will explain to

you another time my reasons for this."

The little bay in which the Chameleon lay at anchor was not very far

from the residence of Blue Beard. When the escort arrived there the

horizon was tinged with the first rays of the rising sun. The Chameleon

was a brigantine, light and swift as a kingfisher, riding gracefully on

the waves, at her mooring. Not far from the Chameleon was seen one of

the coast guards who traversed in his rounds the only point of

Cabesterre which was accessible.

The launch of the Chameleon, commanded by Captain Ralph's first mate,

waited at the landing; in it were four sailors seated, with oars raised,

ready to row at the first signal.

The Gascon's heart beat as if it would burst. At the moment of attaining

the price of his sacrifice, he trembled lest an unlooked-for accident

should upset the fragile scaffolding of so many stratagems.

The litter in which Monmouth was shut up arrived on the bank, and was

quickly followed by that containing Angela.

The soldiers ranged themselves along the landing. The Gascon said to

Angela, in an agitated tone, "Go on board ship, madame, with your

accomplice; this package (and he put into the hands of the mate a paper)

will inform Captain Ralph of my final orders. Meanwhile," said the

chevalier all at once, "wait--I have an idea!"

Chemerant and Angela gazed at Croustillac with surprise.

The adventurer believed he had discovered a means of saving the duke,

and of himself escaping from Chemerant; he had no doubt of the

resolution and devotion of the five sailors in the boat; he thought of

precipitating himself with Angela and Monmouth into the boat and

ordering the sailors to make all speed over the waves in order to join

the Chameleon, and to set sail with speed. The soldiers, though thirty

in number, would be so surprised by this sudden flight that success

would be possible. A new incident upset this project of the chevalier.

A voice which, though distant, was very powerful, cried, "In the name of

the king, stop; allow no one to embark!"

Croustillac turned suddenly toward the direction from which the voice

came, and he saw a marine officer who was coming out of a redoubt

erected near Cayman's Cove.

"In the name of the king, allow no one to embark," came the voice again.

"Be easy, lieutenant," responded a subordinate, who until then had not

been perceived, for he was hidden by the piles of the wharf, "I will

not allow the tender to leave without your orders."

"That is well, Thomas, and beside," replied the officer, firing a shot

from his gun as a signal, "the coastguard will not permit the brigantine

to sail."

It would be impossible to paint the frightful agony of the actors in

this scene. Croustillac saw that his plan for flight was out of the

question, because the slightest signal from the coastguard would prevent

the departure of the Chameleon.

The officer who had just appeared stopped in front of Croustillac and

Chemerant, and said to them, "In the name of the king, I order you to

tell me who you are and where you are going, gentlemen; by the

governor's orders no one can sail from here without a permit from him.

"Sir," said Chemerant, "the soldiers who are with me are part of the

governor's guard; you see, I am acting by his consent."

"An escort, sir! you have an escort!" said the astonished officer.

"There, near the mole, sir," said Croustillac.

"Oh, that is another matter, sir; the light was so feeble that I had not

noticed the soldiers. I hope you will pardon me, sir."

This man, who seemed extremely talkative, approached the governor's

guard, examined them a moment, and said with excessive volubility, "My

orders are simply to prevent persons going toward the wharf, just now

the Chameleon, and a fine vessel she is, belonging to Blue Beard, and

which has bravely run down a Spanish pirate--came last night to the

mooring."

"Sir, I beg you to silence this insupportable babbler," said the

chevalier to Chemerant, "you must see how painful this scene is to me."

"You see, sir," said Chemerant to the lieutenant of marines, "the

persons who are going to embark, do so under my personal responsibility.

I am Chemerant, commissioner extraordinary to the king, and am furnished

with full powers."

"Sir," said the lieutenant, "it is unnecessary to cite your authority;

this escort is sufficient guarantee, and----"

"Then, sir, remove the order."

"Nothing is easier, sir; the order being now useless, it is useless to

maintain it." "Thomas," cried this irrepressible talker to his

subordinate, "you know the order that I gave you?"

"Which, lieutenant?"

"How! brainless one!"

"Sir, my time is valuable, I must return shortly to Fort Royal," said

Chemerant.

The lieutenant continued, recklessly, "How! you have forgotten the order

I gave you?"

"The last one? no, lieutenant."

"No, lieutenant! well, repeat it, then; let us hear the order." Then,

addressing Chemerant, he said to him, while pointing to his soldier, "He

hasn't the memory of a gosling! I am not sorry to give him this lesson

before you, it will profit him."

"Confound it! I am not here to assist in educating your functionaries,"

said Chemerant.

"Well, Thomas, this order?"

"Lieutenant, it was to let no one embark on the vessel."

"Very well, that is all right; now I remove the embargo."

"Go on board at once, madame," said Croustillac, unable to moderate his

impatience.

Angela cast a last look at him.

The duke made a despairing effort to break his fetters, but he was

quickly carried off to the tender by the soldiers.

At a sign from Blue Beard, the sailors dipped their oars into the sea

and headed for the Chameleon.

"Are you satisfied now, your highness," said Chemerant.

"No, no; not yet, sir. I shall not be content until I see the vessel set

sail," replied the Gascon in a changed voice.

"The prince is implacable in his hate," thought Chemerant; "he trembles

still with rage, although his revenge is assured."

All at once the sky was irradiated by the rays of the sun which made

more somber still the line of azure which the sea formed on the horizon;

the sun rose majestically, pouring torrents of red upon the water, the

rocks, and the bay.

At this instant the Chameleon, which had been joined by the small boat,

flung to the breeze its white sails, and began to draw in its cable, by

which it was attached to the mooring. The brigantine, with a graceful

movement, began to tack; during a few seconds it completely hid the disk

of the sun, and appeared enveloped in a brilliant aureole. Then the

swift vessel, turning its prow toward Cayman's Cove, began to make

toward the open sea.

Croustillac remained motionless in sorrowful reverie, with his eyes

fixed upon the vessel, which was carrying away the woman whom he so

suddenly and so madly loved.

The adventurer, thanks to his keen sight, could perceive a white

handkerchief which was waved from the stern of the vessel. It was the

last farewell of Blue Beard.

Shortly the breeze freshened. The little vessel, with swift movement,

bent under her sails, and went so rapidly that it was, little by little,

lost in the midst of the warm mist of the morning. Then it entered into

a zone of torrid light which the sun threw on the waves.

For some time Croustillac could not follow the Chameleon with his eyes;

when he saw her again, the brigantine drew nearer and nearer to the

horizon, appearing but a speck in space. Then, doubling the last point

of the island, she disappeared all at once.

When the poor chevalier could no longer see the vessel, he experienced a

profound sorrow. His heart seemed as empty and as solitary as the ocean.

"Now, sir," said Chemerant, "let us go and find the friends who are

awaiting you so impatiently. In an hour we will be on board the

frigate."

PART IV.

CHAPTER XXX.

REGRETS.

As long as Croustillac contemplated his sacrifice; as long as he had

been exalted by its dangers and upheld by the presence of Angela and

Monmouth; he had not realized the cruel consequences of his devotion;

but when he was alone, his thoughts became very painful. Not that he

feared the danger which menaced him, but he felt keenly the absence of

Angela, for whom he had braved everything. Under the eye of Angela, he

had gayly faced the greatest peril; but he would never see her again.

This was the real reason of his gloomy dejection.

With arms crossed upon his breast, bowed head, fixed gaze and somber

manner, the adventurer remained silent and motionless. Twice De

Chemerant addressed him: "Your highness, it is time to go."

Croustillac did not hear him. Chemerant, realizing the uselessness of

words, touched him lightly on the arm, repeating louder, "Your highness,

there still remain more than four leagues to travel before arriving at

Fort Royal."

"Zounds! sir; what do you want?" cried the Gascon, turning impatiently

toward De Chemerant.

The face of the latter expressed so much surprise at hearing the man

whom he believed to be the Duke of Monmouth give vent to such a peculiar

exclamation, that the Gascon realized the imprudence of which he had

been guilty. He quickly recovered his usual coolness, looked at De

Chemerant in an abstracted manner; then, as if he had awakened from a

profound meditation, he said, in a short tone, "Very well, sir, let us

go." Again mounting his horse, the Gascon took the road to Fort Royal,

still followed by the escort and accompanied by De Chemerant.

Croustillac was not a man, in spite of his chagrin, to entirely despair

of the present. Chemerant, recovering from his surprise, attributed the

somber taciturnity of the Gascon to the painful thoughts which the

criminal conduct of the Duchess of Monmouth must cause him; while the

adventurer, summing up the chances of escape which remained to him,

analyzed the state of his heart, reasoning as follows: "Blue Beard (I

shall always call her that--it was thus I heard her name for the first

time, when I thought of her without knowing her), Blue Beard is

gone--forever gone; I shall never see her again, never, never, it is

evident. It will be impossible to escape from the memory of her. It is

absurd, stupid, not to be imagined, but so it is--this proves it that

this little woman has completely subjugated me. I was gay, careless and

loquacious as a bird on the bough, but little scrupulous as to delicacy,

and now behold me, sad, morose, taciturn, and of a delicacy so

inordinate that I had a horrible fear lest Blue Beard should offer me,

in parting, some remuneration other than the medallion from which she

had the generosity to remove the jewels. Alas! from this time forth,

this memory will be all my happiness--sad happiness! What a change! I,

who heretofore cared so much the more for bravery of attire since I was

badly clothed; I, who would have found such happiness in wearing this

velvet coat garnished with rich gold buttons--I wish for the moment to

come when I can don my old green garments and my pink hose, proud to say

'I leave this Potosi, this Devil's Cliff, this diamond mine, as much of

a beggar as when I entered into it.' Is it not, my faith, very plain

that before knowing Blue Beard, I had never in my life had such

thoughts? Now, what remains for me to hope?" said Croustillac, adopting,

as was his wont, the interrogative form to make what he called his

"examination of conscience."

"Now, then, be frank, Polypheme, do you care much for life?

"Eh! eh!

"What say you to being hanged?

"H--m, h--m.

"Come, now, frankly?

"Frankly? well, the gallows, strictly speaking, might please me if Blue

Beard was there to see me hanged. And yet, no, it is an ignoble death, a

ridiculous death; one's tongue hangs out, one kicks about----

"Polypheme, you are afraid--of being hanged?

"No, faith! but hanged all alone, hanged by myself, hanged like a mad

dog, hanged without two beautiful eyes looking at you, without a pretty

mouth smiling at you----

"Polypheme, you are a stupid oaf; do you believe that Her Grace the

Duchess of Monmouth would come to applaud your last dance? Once more,

Polypheme, you are tricking, you seek all sorts of evasions. You are

afraid of being hanged, I tell you."

"So be it--yes, I am afraid of the gallows, I own it; let us speak no

more of it. Put aside these probabilities, do not admit into our future

this exaggerated fear. Zounds! one is not hanged for so little, while

the prison is possible, not to say probable. Let us talk, then, of the

prison.

"Well, how does the prison seem to you, Polypheme?

"Eh! eh! the prison is devilishly monotonous. I know well that I should

have the resource of thinking of Blue Beard, but I shall think of her so

much, I shall think of her even better in the peaceful solitude of the

woods, in the calm of the paternal valley. The paternal valley! yes,

decidedly, it is there that I would prefer to finish my days, dreaming

of Blue Beard. Only, shall I ever find it again, this paternal valley?

Alas! the mists of our Gavonne are so thick that I shall wander long,

without doubt, before I find this dear valley again.

"Polypheme, you purposely wander from the subject; you wish to escape

the prison as well as the gallows, in spite of your philosophical

bombast.

"Well, yes, zounds! I do want to escape both; to whom should I avow it

if not to myself? Who will comprehend me if not I, myself?

"That admitted, Polypheme, how will you evade the fate that threatens

you?

"Just at present this road is hardly favorable for escape, I know; rocks

on the right hand, on the left the sea, in front of and behind me the

escort. My horse is not bad; if it was better than that of the good

Chemerant, I might make a trial of swiftness with him.

"And then, Polypheme?

"And then I would leave good Chemerant on the road.

"And then?

"And then, abandoning my horse, I would conceal myself in some cavern; I

would climb the rocks; I have long legs and muscles of steel.

"But, Polypheme, you will be sure to find the maroons. You, who are not

accustomed as they are to a nomadic life, you will be easily found by

them, at least if you are not devoured by wildcats or killed by

serpents. Such are your only two chances of escaping the efforts they

will make to catch you again.

"Yes, but at least I have some chance of escape, while in following the

good Chemerant, as the sheep follows the butcher who leads it to the

slaughter-house, I fall full into the hands of my partisans. Mortimer

will fall on my neck, not to embrace me, but to strangle me, when he

sees who I am, or rather, whom I am not; while in attempting to escape I

may succeed, and, who knows? perhaps rejoin Blue Beard. Father Griffen

is devoted to her; through him I shall learn where she is, if he knows.

"But, Polypheme, you are mad! You love this woman without a ray of hope.

She is passionately in love with her husband; and, although people have

complacently taken you for him, he is as handsome, as much of a 'grand

seigneur,' as interesting, as you are ugly, ridiculous, and

insignificant, although of ancient race, Polypheme.

"Eh? Zounds! what does it matter? In again beholding Blue Beard I shall

not be happy, that is true, but I shall be content. Cannot one enjoy a

beautiful sight, an admirable picture, a magnificent poem, an enchanting

piece of music, although this sight, this picture, this poem, this

music, are not one's own? Well, such will be the kind of my content in

the presence of the divine Blue Beard.

"A last observation, Polypheme. Your rhapsody, happy or not, will it not

awaken the suspicions of De Chemerant? Will you not thus compromise the

safety of those whom you have, I must avow, very skillfully rescued?

"There is nothing to fear on that side. The Chameleon flies like an

albatross--she is already the devil knows where. She will put to their

wits' ends all the coastguards of the islands to know where she is.

Thus, then, I see no inconvenience in trying whether my horse goes

faster than that of the good Chemerant. The good man seems to me plunged

in meditation just now; the strand is good and straight. If I should

start----

"Come, then, try--start, Polypheme!"

Scarcely had the adventurer mentally given himself this permission,

when, giving some touches of his spur to the horse, he set off suddenly

with great rapidity.

Chemerant, surprised for a moment, gazed after the flying Croustillac;

then, not comprehending this strange action on the part of the supposed

duke, he started in pursuit.

Chemerant had been in many wars, and was an excellent rider. His horse,

without being superior to that of Croustillac, being much better managed

and trained, immediately regained the distance the adventurer had

covered. Chemerant closely followed the track of Croustillac, crying,

"My lord, my lord, where are you going?"

Croustillac, seeing himself so closely pursued, urged his horse forward

with all his force.

Very soon the adventurer was obliged to stop short; the strand formed an

elbow in this place, and the Gascon found himself face to face with

enormous blocks of rock leaving only a narrow and dangerous passage.

Chemerant rejoined his companion. "By all the furies! my lord," he

cried, "what gnat has bitten your highness? Why this sudden and furious

gallop?"

The Gascon responded, coolly and boldly, "I am in great haste, sir, to

rejoin my partisans--this poor Mortimer especially, who awaits me with

such lively impatience. And then, in spite of me, I am besieged with

certain vexatious ideas concerning my wife, and I wish to fly from them,

these ideas, to fly from them by any means," said the Gascon, with a

dolorous sigh.

"It appears to me, my lord, that morally and physically you fly from

them with all your might; unfortunately the road forbids your escaping

them any further."

Chemerant called the guide. "At what distance are we from Fort Royal?"

he asked him.

"A league at most, sir."

Chemerant pulled out his watch and said to Croustillac, "if the wind is

good at eleven o'clock, we might be under sail and _en route_ for the

coast of Cornwall, where glory awaits you, my lord."

"I hope so, sir, without which it would be absurd in me to go there. But

apropos of our enterprise, it seems to be a bad beginning to inaugurate

it with a murder."

"What do you mean, your highness?"

"I should see with pain the shooting of Colonel Rutler. I am

superstitious, sir; this death seems to me a bad omen. The crime was one

entirely personal to me; I then formally demand from you his pardon."

"Your highness, his crime was flagrant, and----"

"But, sir, the crime has not been committed. I insist that the colonel

shall not be shot."

"He should, at least your highness, expiate by perpetual imprisonment

his audacious attempt."

"In prison? so be it; one can get out of it, thank God! or at least, one

can hope so, which shortens the time infinitely. Beside, the colonel

might noise abroad my approaching descent into Cornwall, which would be

truly disastrous."

"What you desire in this case shall be done, your highness?"

"Another thing, sir. I am superstitious, as I have told you. I have

remarked in my life certain lucky and unlucky days. Now, for nothing in

this world would I choose to begin an enterprise so important as ours

under the influence of an hour which I believe to be fatal to me.

Beside, I am much fatigued; you ought to be able to understand that, in

thinking of the emotions of all kinds which have beset me since

yesterday."

"What, then, are your designs, your highness?"

"They will perhaps not agree with yours, but I will credit you with

doing what I desire, which is not to set sail before to-morrow morning

at sunrise."

"Your highness!"

"I know, sir, what you are going to say to me, but twenty-four hours,

more or less, are not of much consequence, and, finally, I have decided

not to put my foot on board to-day. I should bring upon you the most

direful fate; I should draw upon your frigate all the tempests of the

tropics. I will, then, pass the day with the governor, in absolute

retirement. I have need of being alone," added Croustillac, in a

melancholy tone; "alone, yes, always alone, and I ought to begin my

apprenticeship to solitude."

"Solitude? But, my lord, you will not find it among the agitations which

await you."

"Ah! sir," responded Croustillac philosophically, "the unfortunate finds

solitude even in the midst of the crowd, when he isolates himself in his

regrets. A wife whom I loved so much!" added he, with a profound sigh.

"Ah! your highness," said De Chemerant, sighing in order to put himself

in sympathy with Croustillac, "it is terrible; but time heals the

deepest wounds."

"You are right, sir, time heals the deepest wounds. I will have courage.

Well rested, well recovered from my fatigue and my cruel agitations,

to-morrow I will console myself, I will forget all in embracing my

partisans."

"Ah! your highness, to-morrow will be a blessed day for all."

The position of the supposed duke demanded too much consideration from

De Chemerant for him not to give in to the suggestions of his companion;

he acquiesced, then, though with regret, in the will of Croustillac.

The Gascon, in postponing the hour in which his deception should be

discovered, hoped to find a chance to escape. He remembered that Blue

Beard had said to him, "We will not be ungrateful; once the duke is in

safety, we will not leave you in the power of De Chemerant; only seek to

gain time."

Although Croustillac did not count much on the promise of his friends,

knowing all the difficulties which they would have to brave and to

conquer before they could succor him, he wished in any case not to

sacrifice this chance of safety, however uncertain it should be.

Thus, as the guide had informed them, they arrived at Fort Royal at the

end of an hour's march.

The residence of the governor was situated at the extremity of the city,

on the edge of the savannahs; it was easy to reach it without

encountering any one.

Chemerant sent one of the guards in all haste to warn the governor of

the arrival of his two guests.

The baron had replaced his long peruke, and resumed his heavy,

tight-fitting coat, in order to receive De Chemerant and the supposed

duke. He regarded the latter with eager curiosity, and was extremely

puzzled by the black velvet coat with the red sleeve. But, remembering

that De Chemerant had spoken to him of a state secret in which the

inhabitants of Devil's Cliff found themselves mixed up, he did not dare

to meet Croustillac without profound deference.

The governor, profiting by a moment during which the adventurer cast a

melancholy glance at the window, striving to see whether it would serve

his purpose, said in a low tone to De Chemerant, "I expected to see a

lady, sir. This litter that you brought with you----"

"Well, baron, you unfortunately counted without your hostess."

"You must have been much heated by this morning sun," added the baron

with a careless air, although he was piqued by De Chemerant's answer.

"Very much heated, sir, and your guest also. You should offer him some

refreshment."

"I have thought of that, sir," replied the baron, "and have ordered

three covers laid."

"I do not know, baron, whether my lord (indicating Croustillac) will

deign to admit us to his table."

The governor, stupefied with surprise, regarded Croustillac with a new

and burning curiosity. "But, sir, is this, then, a great personage?"

"Baron, I am again under the necessity of reminding you that it is my

mission to ask questions of you and not----"

"Sufficient, sufficient, sir. Will you ask the guest whom I have the

honor to receive if he will do me the favor to accept this breakfast?"

Chemerant transmitted the invitation of the baron to Croustillac, who,

pretending fatigue, asked to breakfast alone in his apartment.

Chemerant whispered a few words in the ear of the governor, who

immediately offered his finest apartment to the supposed great

personage.

Croustillac prayed the baron to have the pannier, of which one of the

two guards had taken charge, and which, as we know, contained only

Croustillac's old garments, brought to his room.

Chemerant was in the room of the Gascon when the pannier was brought in.

"Who would think, to look at this modest pannier, that it contained more

than three millions' worth of jewels?" said Croustillac negligently.

"What imprudence! your highness!" cried De Chemerant. "These guards are

trusty, but----"

"They are ignorant of the treasure they carry; there is, then, nothing

to fear."

"Your highness, I ought to tell you that it is not the intention of the

king that you should use your personal resources in order to bring this

enterprise to a successful end. The purser of the frigate has a

considerable sum destined to the payment of the recruits who are

embarked, and for necessary expenses, once the debarkation is

accomplished."

"It does not matter," said Croustillac. "Money is the sinew of war. I

had not foreseen this disposition of the 'great king,' and I wish to put

at the service of my royal uncle that which remains to me of blood,

fortune and influence."

After this sounding peroration, De Chemerant went out.

CHAPTER XXXI.

CROUSTILLAC DEPARTS.

Croustillac seated himself at the table which had been prepared for him,

ate but little, and then lay down, hoping that sleep would calm him and

perhaps bring to him some fortunate idea of how to escape. He had

recognized with chagrin the impossibility of escaping by the window of

the chamber he occupied; the two sentries of the governor's residence

paced constantly at the foot of the building.

Once alone, De Chemerant began to reflect on the singular events of

which he had been the witness. Although he did not doubt that the Gascon

was the veritable Duke of Monmouth, the conduct of the duchess seemed so

strange to him, the manners and language of Croustillac, although very

skillfully adapted to his role, were sometimes so redolent of the

adventurer, that without the aid of the evident proofs which should

demonstrate to him the identity of the person of the duke, De Chemerant

would have conceived some suspicions. Nevertheless, he resolved to

profit by his sojourn at Fort Royal to question the governor anew on the

subject of Blue Beard, and Colonel Rutler on the subject of the Duke of

Monmouth. The baron did no more than to repeat certain public rumors,

viz., that the widow was on the best possible terms with the three

bandits who haunted Devil's Cliff.

Chemerant was reduced to deploring the depravity of the young woman, and

the blindness of the unfortunate duke, a blindness which had, without

doubt, endured till that very moment.

As for Rutler, his arrest by De Chemerant, the arrival of the envoy from

France at Devil's Cliff, far from shaking his conviction in respect to

Croustillac, had confirmed it; thus, when De Chemerant came to question

him, in announcing to him that he was not to be shot, the colonel, on

his part unwittingly, concurred in giving still more authority to the

false role of the adventurer.

The sun was on the point of setting. Chemerant, completely reassured as

to the very satisfactory result of his mission, was thinking over the

advantages it must bring to him, while walking up and down the terrace

of the governor's residence, when the baron, out of breath with having

climbed so high, came to tear his guest away from the ambitious thoughts

with which he was delighting himself.

"Sir," said the governor to him, "a merchant captain called Master

Daniel, and commanding the three-master the Unicorn has arrived from St.

Pierre with his ship; he asks to talk with you for a moment on very

pressing affairs."

"May I receive him on this terrace, baron?"

"Certainly, sir; it is much cooler here than below." Then advancing to

the staircase by which he had ascended, the baron said to one of his

guards, "Send Master Daniel up here."

We have forgotten to say that as soon as the supposed duke had

manifested a desire to pass the night on land the frigate had received

orders to anchor at the extremity of the roads.

After some minutes, Captain Daniel, our old acquaintance, appeared on

the terrace. The physiognomy of the captain, ordinarily so frank and

joyous, betrayed great embarrassment.

The worthy captain of the Unicorn, so completely king on the deck of his

vessel, seemed uncomfortable and ill at ease. His cheeks, always more

than red, were slightly pale; the almost imperceptible quivering of his

upper lip agitated his thick gray mustache--a physiological sign which

indicated in Captain Daniel a grave preoccupation; he wore trousers and

tunic of blue and white striped cloth; in his girdle of red cotton was

thrust a long Flemish knife; an India handkerchief, knotted sailor

fashion, surrounded his brick-colored throat; finally, he mechanically

gave the most whimsical forms to the large and flexible straw hat which

he twisted about with both hands.

The worthy master, with many low bows, approached De Chemerant, whose

dry, harsh face, with its piercing glance, seemed to intimidate him

greatly.

"I am sure that this poor man is all in a perspiration," said the

governor to De Chemerant, in a pitying tone.

In fact, great drops of perspiration covered the prominent veins on the

bald and sunburned forehead of Captain Daniel.

"What do you wish?" said De Chemerant to him brusquely.

"Come, speak, explain yourself, Master Daniel," added the baron, in a

gentler tone, seeing the merchant captain more and more intimidated.

At last the captain ended by saying, in a voice strangled by emotion,

and addressing himself to De Chemerant, "Your highness----"

"I am not 'your highness' but 'sir,'" replied Chemerant; "speak, I am

listening."

"Well, then, my good sir, I arrived at St. Pierre with a cargo, a very

rich cargo of sugar, coffee, pepper, cloves, tafia----"

"I do not need to know the inventory of your cargo; what do you want?"

"Come, Master Daniel, my boy, reassure yourself, explain yourself, and

dry your forehead; you look as if you had come out of the water," said

the baron.

"Now, your high--now, good sir, although I have a dozen small guns, and

a few swivel guns, my cargo is of such value that I come, good sir, in

fear of corsairs and pirates----"

"Well?"

"Go on, Master Daniel, I have never seen you thus."

"I come, good sir, to ask your permission to set sail in company with

the frigate which has anchored just now in the roads."

"Confound it! I can understand why you are embarrassed in making such a

request, Master Daniel," said the baron. "They are to give you his

majesty's frigates to serve as escort to your cargo!"

Chemerant looked fixedly at the captain, shrugged his shoulders, and

responded, "It is impossible! The frigate is a fast sailer; she could

not diminish her speed to attend on your vessel--you are crazy!"

"Oh, sir, if it is only that, fear nothing. Without decrying his

majesty's frigate, since I do not know her, I can engage to follow her,

no matter how much sail she carries, or whatever wind or sea is in her

sails or ahead."

"I tell you you are crazy. The Thunderer is the swiftest of ships."

"My good sir, do not refuse me," said Master Daniel, in a supplicating

tone. "If this proud frigate sails quicker than the Unicorn--well, this

man-of-war will desert the poor merchant ship, but at least I shall have

been a good part of the way under the shelter of the flag of the king,

and the prowlers of the sea are only especially to be feared in the

starting. Ah, sir, a cargo worth more than a million, by which the

enemies of our good king will profit if they succeed in getting

possession of the Unicorn----"

"But I repeat to you that the frigate, although a man-of-war, would not

have time to defend you if you were attacked; her mission is such that

she ought not to be embarrassed with a convoy."

"Oh, good sir," replied Captain Daniel, clasping his hands, "you will

have no embarrassment because of me; there will be no risk of my being

attacked if they see me under the protection of your guns. There is not

a corsair who would dare even to approach me, seeing me so bravely

accompanied. With all respect, sir, the wolves attack the lambs only

when the dogs are absent."

"Poor lamb of a Master Daniel!" said the governor.

"Ah, good sir, let it not be said that a warship of the king, our

master, refused a poor unfortunate merchant who asked only the

protection of his flag, so long as he was able to follow it."

Chemerant found it hard to refuse this request, which in nowise

interfered with the maneuvers of the frigate, as Captain Daniel engaged

to follow the course of the Thunderer or allow himself to be abandoned.

Nevertheless, De Chemerant refused. "You know well," he said to the

captain, "that if, in spite of our escort, a corsair attacked you, a

king's ship could not leave you defenseless. Again, you will hinder the

maneuvers of the frigate. It is impossible."

"But, sir, my rich cargo----"

"You have guns, defend it. I will not allow you the convoy. It is

impossible."

"Alas! my good God! I, who have come expressly from St. Pierre to ask

this favor from you!" said Daniel, in a dolorous tone.

"Well, you will wait for another chance. I cannot cover you with my

flag."

"However, good sir----"

"Enough!" said Chemerant, in a harsh and peremptory tone.

Captain Daniel made a last reverence, and, retreating slowly to the

staircase, he disappeared.

"To see these merchants! To hear them one would think there were no

interests in the world but those of their cargoes," said De Chemerant.

"There are, however, very few circumstances in which one refuses an

escort," said the governor, with an air of astonishment.

"There are very few, indeed, baron, but there are some," said Chemerant

brusquely, while withdrawing.

Croustillac had been conducted to the finest apartment in the house.

When he awoke night had fallen, and the moon shone with so brilliant a

light that it illuminated his chamber perfectly.

Croustillac looked out of his window; the two sentinels paced peacefully

at the foot of the wall.

"The devil!" said the adventurer. "It is decidedly impossible to make my

escape on this side; there are at least twenty feet to descend just to

fall on the backs of these sentinels, and they would find this manner of

quitting the governor's house very singular. Let us look at the other

side, then."

Croustillac approached the door with a light step; but a bright light

thrown on the floor showed him that the neighboring room was lighted and

probably occupied.

By the aid of a tinder-box which he found on the mantel, he lighted a

candle, and dressed himself in his old clothes, with a melancholy

satisfaction. They exhaled the strong and aromatic odor of the plants

and herbs of the surroundings through which Croustillac had so long

walked in his wanderings in the forest around Devil's Cliff.

"Zounds! Chance is devilishly well named Chance," said the Gascon to

himself. "It has always had a particular affection for me. If it was

canonized, I would make it my patron saint. Chance--Polypheme, Sire de

Croustillac! When, on board the Unicorn, I made a bet that I would marry

Blue Beard, who could have foreseen that this foolish wager was almost

won; for, after all, in the eyes of the man with the dagger and of De

Chemerant, I passed, I still pass, as the husband of the lady of Devil's

Cliff. How all things hang together in fate! When I quitted the

parsonage of Father Griffen, nose in air, shoulders squared, my switch

in my hand to drive away the serpents, who the devil would have said

that I left to go, not directly it is true, to incite the Cornwallers to

revolt in favor of King James and Louis XIV! Zounds! One may well say

that the ways of Providence are inscrutable. Who could have penetrated

into this? Ah! now the critical moment approaches. I am sometimes

tempted to disclose all to the good man Chemerant. Yes, but I think that

each hour gained removes the duke and his wife three or four leagues

further from Martinique. I think that here, on land, my trial might be

carried out immediately and my gallows raised in the wink of an eye,

while on the open sea there would perhaps be no persons present

competent to judge me. I think, after all, that if Blue Beard has begged

(as I suppose) Father Griffen to endeavor to withdraw me from the claws

of Chemerant, that a sudden and imprudent revelation on my part would

spoil all. Much better, then, to keep silence. Yes, all well

considered," resumed Croustillac after a moment of reflection, "to let

De Chemerant's mistake last as long as possible, that is the better part

for me to take."

During these reflections Croustillac had dressed himself. "Now," he

said, "let me see if there are any means of getting out of here

secretly."

So saying, he softly opened the door and beheld with disappointment the

lackeys of the governor, who rose respectfully on seeing him. One went

to seek the baron; the other said to Croustillac, "Monsieur the governor

forbade us to enter the chamber of your highness until called; he will

come on the instant."

"No matter, my boy, only show me the door to the garden. It is very

warm; I wish to take the air for awhile--but no, there are undoubtedly

trees in the garden; I prefer the open space, the field----"

"That is very simple, your highness; in descending from the gallery you

will find yourself in the garden, from which a gate opens into the

fields."

"Very well, then, my boy, conduct me there quickly. I long for the

fields like a bird in a cage."

"Ah, it is not necessary, your highness; here is monsieur the baron, he

will conduct you himself," said the lackey.

"To the devil with the baron!" thought Croustillac. The governor was not

alone; Chemerant accompanied him.

"Faith, your highness," said the latter, "fortunately we see you risen.

We came to wake you."

"To wake me--and why?"

"Wind and tide wait for no one. The tide goes out at three o'clock; it

is now half-past two. It will take us a half hour to reach the mole,

where the boat awaits us. We have just time to get there, your

highness."

"Now, then, the die is cast," said Croustillac. "Let us try only to gain

a few hours before being presented to my partisans. Sir, I am at your

orders," added the adventurer, draping himself in a brown mantle which

he had found with his clothes.

The governor felt it his duty to accompany, as escort, De Chemerant and

the mysterious unknown to the mole; the flight of the Gascon was thus

rendered absolutely impossible.

At the moment of quitting the governor, Chemerant said to him, "Sir, I

will render to the king a full account of the efficient aid you have

given me. I can now say it to you, the secret has been perfectly kept."

"But, sir, may I know what were these indications?" cried the baron, so

poorly informed on what he was burning to know.

"You may be certain, baron," said Chemerant, cordially pressing his

hand, "that the king will know all--and it will not be my fault if you

are not rewarded as you deserve."

Thus saying, Chemerant gave the order to put off.

"If the king is to know all he will be much ahead of me," said the

baron, slowly returning to his house. "What I have learned from the

guards of the escort has only augmented my curiosity. It was hardly

worth the trouble to toil and moil, and stay on one's feet all night, to

be so badly informed of things of the greatest importance, taking place

in my own government!"

CHAPTER XXXII.

THE FRIGATE.

The moon threw a brilliant light over the waters of Fort Royal. The long

boat which bore Croustillac and his fortunes advanced rapidly toward the

Thunderer, which was anchored at the entrance of the bay.

The Gascon, enveloped in his mantle, occupied the place of honor in the

boat, which seemed to fly over the water.

"Sir," said he to Chemerant, "I wish to reflect ripely on the discourse

which it is my intention to address to my partisans; you comprehend--it

is necessary that I pronounce a sort of manifesto in which I disclose my

political principles; that I tell them my hopes in order to make them

partakers in them; that, in fine, I give them, in a manner, a plan of

campaign; now all this needs long elaboration. These are the bases of

our undertaking. It is necessary to disclose all to them--the

consequences of the alliance, or rather the moral, that is to say

material support which England lends us, or rather France--In short,"

said Croustillac, who began to be singularly mixed up in his politics,

"I do not wish to receive my partisans till to-morrow, in the morning. I

wish, even, that my arrival on board should be conducted as quietly as

possible."

"It is very probable, my lord, that all these brave gentlemen are

asleep, for they did not know at what hour your highness was to arrive."

"This mad--this brave Mortimer is capable of waiting up all night for

me," said Croustillac, with disquietude.

"That is not to be doubted, your highness, by one who knows the ardent

impatience with which he desires your return."

"Hold, sir," said the Gascon, "between you and me, I know my Mortimer;

he is very nervous, very impressionable. I should fear for him--a shock,

a too sudden effect of joy, should I appear abruptly before him. Thus,

in going aboard I shall take the precaution of well wrapping myself up

in order to escape his eyes--and even if he asks you if I shall soon

arrive, oblige me by answering him in an evasive manner. In this way we

can prepare him for an interview, which without these precautions might

prove fatal to this devoted friend."

"Ah! fear nothing, your highness; excess of joy can never be fatal."

"Indeed, you deceive yourself, sir; without taking account of a thousand

general facts with which I might corroborate my opinion, I will cite on

this subject a fact quite personal and particular to the very man of

whom we are now talking."

"To Lord Mortimer?"

"To him, sir. I shall never forget that once I saw him seized with

frightful convulsions under circumstances almost similar. There were

nervous starts--swoons----"

"However, your highness, Lord Mortimer has an athletic constitution."

"An athletic constitution? Come, then, it only remained that I should

encounter a Hercules in this run-mad Pylades," thought Croustillac. He

spoke aloud:

"You don't know, sir, that it is these very men of great strength who

are just the ones who most keenly feel such shocks. I will even tell

you--but this is entirely between ourselves--at least----"

"Your highness may be sure of my discretion."

"You will understand my reserve, sir. I will tell you then that, on the

occasion of which I speak--this unfortunate Mortimer was so

stupefied--(if it were not for our intimate friendship, I should say

rendered stupid) by seeing too suddenly some one he had not met for a

long time--that his head--you comprehend----"

"What, your highness, his reason----"

"Alas! yes, in this instance only--. You now comprehend why I demand

secrecy of you?"

"Yes, yes, your highness."

"But that was not all; the shock suffered by poor Mortimer was such

that, after having remained several moments stupefied with surprise, he

no longer recognized this person; no, sir, he did not recognize him,

though he had seen him a thousand times!"

"Is it possible, your highness?" said De Chemerant, in a tone of

respectful doubt.

"It is, alas! only too true, sir, for you have no idea of the

excitability of this good fellow. So I, who am his friend, should watch

carefully that no trouble come to him. Think, then, if I should expose

him to the risk of not knowing me. Mortimer is now the one whom I love

most in the world, and you know, alas! sir, if the consolations of

friendship are necessary to me."

"Still these unhappy memories, your highness?"

"Yes, I am weak, I own it--it is stronger than I."

"What is this ship anchored not far from the frigate?" demanded De

Chemerant of the master of the long boat, in order to change the

conversation, out of regard for the feelings of the supposed duke.

"That, sir, is a merchantman, which arrived last night from St. Pierre,"

said the sailor, respectfully removing his cap.

"Ah! I know," said De Chemerant; "it is probably the ship of that fool

of a merchant-captain who demanded our escort. But here we are, your

highness--the lights are all out--you are not expected."

"So much the better, so much the better; provided Mortimer is not

there."

"It seems to me that I see him on the bridge, your highness."

Croustillac raised his mantle almost to his eyes.

"Ah! there is the officer of the watch on the ladder. What a pity to

arrive so late, your highness. It is to the beat of drums, the flourish

of trumpets, that your highness should have been received, with the

ship's crew presenting arms."

"Honors to-morrow--honors to-morrow," said Croustillac; "the hour of

these frivolities always comes soon enough."

Chemerant drew aside to allow the Gascon to mount the ladder first. The

latter breathed freely again on seeing on deck only an officer of

marines, who received him with bared head and a profoundly respectful

air. Croustillac responded with great dignity, and above all, very

briefly, enveloping himself in his mantle with the utmost care, and

casting uneasy glances around him, fearing to see the terrible Mortimer.

Fortunately he saw only the sailors talking together or reclining by the

side of the guns.

The officer, who was speaking in a low tone to De Chemerant, saluting

Croustillac again, said to him:

"Your highness, since you command it, I will not awaken the captain, and

I shall have the honor of conducting you to your cabin."

Croustillac inclined his head.

"Till to-morrow, your highness," said De Chemerant.

"Till to-morrow," responded the adventurer.

The officer descended by the hatchway to the gun-deck, opened the door

of a large, wide cabin perfectly lighted by a skylight, and said to the

Gascon: "Your highness, there is your cabin; there are two other small

rooms to the right and left."

"This is admirable, sir; do me the favor, I pray you, to give the

strictest orders that no one enters my cabin to-morrow until I call. No

one, sir, you understand--absolutely no one!--this is of the last

importance."

"Very well, my lord. Your highness does not wish that I should send one

of the people to assist you to disrobe?"

"I am a soldier, sir," said Croustillac proudly, "and I disrobe without

assistance."

The young officer bowed, taking this response for a lesson in stoicism;

he went out, ordering one of the orderlies to allow no one to enter the

cabin of the duke, and again ascended on deck to rejoin De Chemerant.

"Your duke is a veritable Spartan, my dear De Chemerant," said he to

him. "Why! he has not brought even a lackey."

"That is true," responded De Chemerant; "such strange things have taken

place on land that neither he nor I thought of it; but I will give him

one of my people. Just now the important thing is to set sail."

"That is also the opinion of the captain. He gave me orders to wake him

if you judged it necessary to depart at once."

"We will start on the instant, for both wind and tide are in our favor,

I think," answered De Chemerant.

"So favorable," said the officer, "that if this wind holds, to-morrow by

sunrise we shall no longer be able to see the shores of Martinique."

A half-hour after the arrival of the Gascon on board, the Thunderer got

under sail with an excellent breeze from the southwest.

When De Chemerant saw the frigate leaving the roads, he could not

refrain from rubbing his hands, saying to himself, "Faith it is not that

I am vain and boastful, but I would only have given this mission in a

hundred to the most skillful of men--to unravel the projects of the

English envoy, to conquer the scruples of the duke, to aid him to

revenge himself on a guilty wife, to tear him by force of eloquence from

the overwhelming feelings this conjugal accident has roused in his soul,

to bring him back to England at the head of his partisans--by my faith,

Chemerant, my friend, that was left to you to do! Your fortune, already

on the road to success, behold it forever assured; this good success

delights me the more that the king regards this affair as important.

Once more, bravo!"

Chemerant with a light and joyful heart slept, cradled by the most

pleasing and ambitious thoughts.

It was half-past ten in the morning; the wind was fresh, the sea a

little rough, but very beautiful; the Thunderer left behind her a

shining wake. The land was no longer to be seen. The ship was in

mid-ocean.

The officer of the watch, armed with a glass, examined with attention a

three-masted vessel about two cannon shots distant, which kept precisely

the same route as the frigate and sailed as quickly as she did, although

carrying a few light sails the less.

On the extreme horizon the officer remarked also another ship which he

as yet distinguished vaguely, but which seemed to follow the same

direction as the three-master, whose maneuver we have just pointed out.

Wishing to find out if this latter ship would persist in imitating the

movements of the Thunderer, the officer ordered the man at the wheel to

bear away a little more to the north.

The three-master bore away a little more to the north.

The officer gave orders to bear away to the west.

The three-master bore away to the west.

More annoyed than startled at this persistence, because the three-master

was not capable of a struggle with a frigate, the officer, by the order

of the captain, tacked about and sailed straight down upon the

importunate vessel.

The importunate three-master tacked about also, and continued to

scrupulously imitate the evolutions of the frigate, and sailed in

concert with her, but always beyond reach of her guns.

The captain, irritated by this, veered about and ran straight down upon

the three-master. The three-master proved that she was, if not a better

sailer, at least as good a one as the frigate, which was never able to

shorten the distance between them. The captain, not wishing to lose

precious time in this useless chase, resumed his course.

The vexatious three-master also resumed its course.

This mysterious ship was no other than the peaceable Unicorn. Captain

Daniel, in spite of the refusal of De Chemerant, had judged it proper to

attach himself obstinately to the Thunderer until they reached the open

sea.

A new personage appeared on the deck of the frigate. This was a man of

about fifty years of age, large, stout, wearing a buff coat with wide

scarlet breeches, and boots of sheepskin. His hair and mustache were

red, his eyes light blue, the eyeballs veined with little vessels which

the slightest emotion injected with blood, showing a violent and

passionate temper.

We hasten to inform the reader that this athletic personage was the most

fanatical of all the fanatical partisans of Monmouth, and he would have

thought himself a thousand times blessed to have shared the fate of

Sidney; in a word, this man was Lord Percy Mortimer. His disquietude,

his agitation, his impatience, were inexpressible; he could not stay in

one place a moment.

Twenty times had Lord Mortimer descended to the door of Croustillac's

cabin to know if "my lord the duke" had not asked for him. In vain had

he implored the officer to send word to the duke that Mortimer, his best

friend, his old companion in arms, wished to throw himself at his feet;

his wishes were vain, the orders of the unhappy Croustillac, who

regarded each minute gained as a precious conquest, were rigorously

carried out.

Chemerant also went upon deck, clothed in a magnificent dress, his air

radiant and triumphant; he seemed to say to all: "If the prince is here,

that is thanks to my ability, to my courage." Seeing him, Mortimer

approached him quickly.

"Well, sir," he said to him, "may we know at last at what hour the duke

will receive us?"

"The duke has forbidden any one to enter his apartment without his

order."

"I am on red-hot coals," replied Mortimer; "I shall never forgive myself

for having gone to bed this night, and not to have been the first to

press our James in my arms, to throw myself at his feet--to kiss his

royal hand."

"Ah, Lord Mortimer, you love our brave duke well?" said De Chemerant;

"partisans such as you are rare!"

"_If_ I love our James!" cried Mortimer, turning a deep and apoplectic

red, "_if_ I love him! Hold! I and Dick Dudley, my best friend, who

loves the duke, not as much as I (we fought once because he made this

absurd claim)--I and Dudley, I tell you, asked each other just now if we

should have the strength to again see our James without giving way--like

silly women."

"The duke was right," thought De Chemerant. "What enthusiasm! It is not

attachment, it is frenzy." Mortimer resumed with vehemence: "This

morning on rising we embraced each other; we committed a thousand

extravagances on thinking we should see him again to-day. We could not

believe it, and even yet I doubt it. Ah! what a day! what a day! To see

again in flesh and blood a friend, a companion in arms whom we had

believed dead, whom we had wept for for five years! Ah! you do not know

how he was cherished and regretted, our James! How we recalled his

bravery, his courage, his gayety! What happiness to say, not _it was_,

but _it is_ the heart of a king, a true heart of a king, that of our

duke."

"It must be that this is true, my lord, since with the exception of

yourself, of Lord Dudley, and this poor Lord Rothsay who, ill as he is

from his old wounds, has chosen to accompany you, the other gentlemen

who came to offer their arms, their lives and their fortunes to our

duke, knew him only by reputation."

"And I should like well to see if, on his renown alone, and on our

guarantee, they would not love him as much as we love him. This recalls

to me that once I fought my friend Dick Dudley because he vowed he loved

me a little more than our James!"

"The fact is, my lord," said De Chemerant, "that few princes are capable

of inspiring such enthusiasm simply by their renown."

"Few princes, sir!" cried Lord Mortimer in a formidable voice, "few

princes! Say, then, no other prince--ask Dudley!"

Lord Dudley appeared at this moment on the deck. The hair and mustache

of this nobleman were black and beginning to turn gray; in stature,

strength, and stoutness there was a great conformity between him and

Mortimer; true types (physically speaking) of what are called

gentlemen-farmers.

"What's the matter, Percy?" said Lord Dudley familiarly to his friend.

"Is it not true, Dick, that no prince can be compared with our James?"

"Excepting our worthy friends and allies on this vessel, any dog who

dares maintain that James is not the best of men I will beat him till

the blood comes, and cut him in quarters," said this robust personage,

striking with one of his fists the gunwale of the ship. Then, addressing

De Chemerant: "But now you know him as well as we--you, the chosen you,

the happy man who saw him first! Your hand, De Chemerant, your brave and

loyal hand--more brave and more loyal, if it is possible, since it has

touched that of our duke!"

Dudley violently shook the right hand of De Chemerant, while Mortimer

shook no less violently the left hand.

There is nothing more contagious than enthusiasm. The partisans of

Monmouth had one by one come up on deck and grouped themselves around

the two noblemen--all wishing in their turn to press the hand which had

touched that of the prince.

"Ah! gentlemen, I suspect that his grace puts off the honor of seeing

you. He fears the emotion inseparable from such a moment."

"And we, then!" cried Dudley. "It is now about forty days since we left

Rochelle, is it not? Well, may I die if I have slept more than three or

four hours any night, and then the sleep, at once agitated and pleasant,

that one sleeps on the eve of a duel--when one is sure of killing one's

man. At least, that is the effect of this impatience on me. And you,

Percy?" said the robust gladiator to Mortimer.

"On me, Dick?" responded the latter; "it has a contrary effect on me;

every moment I wake with a start. It seems to me that I should sleep

thus the eve of the day that I was going to be shot."

"As for me," said another gentleman, "I know the duke only from his

portrait."

"I only from his renown."

"I, as soon as I knew that it concerned marching against the Orange

faction--I quitted all, friends, wife, child."

"So did we----"

"Ah, sir, it is also for James of Monmouth," said another, "that is a

name which is like the sound of a trumpet."

"It suffices to pronounce this name in Old England," said another, "to

drive all these Holland rats into their marshes."

"Beginning with this William----"

"On my honor, gentlemen," said De Chemerant, "you make me almost proud

of having succeeded so well in an enterprise which, I dare to say, is a

very delicate one. I do not wish to attribute to my reasoning, to my

influence, the resolution of the prince--but believe, at least,

gentlemen, that I have known how to make good use with him of the

enthusiasm with which his memory has inspired you."

"And so, our friend, we will never forget what you have done! You have

brought him here to us--our duke!" cried Mortimer cordially.

"For that alone we owe you eternal gratitude," added Dudley.

"To see him! to see him," cried Mortimer in a new access of feeling, "to

see him again whom we believed to be dead--to see him indeed face to

face--to again find before our eyes this proud and noble figure--to see

it again in the midst of the fire--the--the--ah, well--yes, I weep--I

weep," cried the brave Mortimer, no longer restraining his emotion;

"yes, I weep like a child, and a thousand thunderbolts crush those who

do not comprehend that an old soldier thus can weep."

Emotion is as contagious as enthusiasm.

Dick, followed the example of his friend Percy, and the others did as

Dick and his friend Percy did.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE JUDGMENT.

A new personage came to augment the number of the passionate admirers of

Monmouth. There was seen advancing, supported by two servants, a man

still young, but condemned to premature infirmity by numerous wounds.

Lord Jocelyn Rothsay, in spite of his sufferings, had wished to join

himself to the partisans of the prince, and if not to fight for the

cause that Monmouth was going to defend, at least to come before the

duke and to be one of the first to felicitate him on his resurrection.

Lord Rothsay's hair was white, although his pale face was still young

and his mustache was as black as his bold and brilliant eyes. Enveloped

in a long dressing-gown, he advanced with difficulty, supported on the

shoulders of the two servants.

"Here is the brave Rothsay who has as many wounds as hairs in his

mustache," cried Lord Dudley.

"By the devil, who will not carry me away before I have seen our duke,

at least," said Rothsay, "I will be, like you, one of the first to press

his hand. Have I not, in my fresh youth, risked my life to hasten by a

quarter of an hour a love tryst? Why should I not risk it in order to

see our duke a quarter of an hour sooner?"

A man with troubled face appeared on deck shortly after Rothsay.

"My lord," said he entreatingly, "my lord, you expose your life by this

imprudence! The least violent movement may renew the hemorrhage from

this old wound which----"

"The devil! doctor, could my blood flow better or more nobly than at the

feet of James of Monmouth?" cried Rothsay with enthusiasm.

"But, my lord, the danger----"

"But, doctor, it would be to his everlasting shame if Jocelyn Rothsay

should be one of the last to embrace our duke. I made this voyage for no

other purpose. Dick will lend me one shoulder, Percy another, and it is

sustained by these two brave champions that I shall come to say to

James: Here are three of your faithful soldiers of Bridgewater."

So saying, the young man abandoned his two servants, and supported

himself on the shoulders of the two robust noblemen.

The roll of drums, to which was added the flourish of trumpets, the

shrill noise of the boatswain's whistle, announced that the marines and

infantry belonging to the frigate were assembling; very soon they were

drawn up on deck, with their officers at their head.

"Why this show of arms?" asked Mortimer of Chemerant.

"To render homage to the duke and to receive him with the honors of war

when he comes directly to review the troops."

The captain of the frigate advanced toward the group of gentlemen:

"Gentlemen, I have just received the orders of his grace."

"Well?" all said with one voice.

"His highness will receive you at eleven o'clock precisely; that is to

say, in exactly five minutes."

It is impossible to give any idea of the exclamations of profound joy

which escaped from every breast.

"Hold! now, Dick, I feel myself growing faint," said Mortimer.

"The devil! pay attention, Percy," said Rothsay; "do not fall; you are

one of my legs."

"I," said Dudley, "I have a sort of vertigo----"

"Listen, Dick; listen, Jocelyn," said Mortimer; "these worthy companions

have never seen our duke; be generous, let them go first; we shall see

him first from a distance; that will give us time to place ourselves in

his sight. Is it done?"

"Yes, yes," said Dick and Jocelyn.

Eleven o'clock sounded. For some moments the deck of the frigate

offered a spectacle truly grand. The soldiers and marines in arms

covered the gangways. The officers, bareheaded, preceding the gentlemen,

slowly descended the narrow stairway which led to the apartment

appropriated to the Duke of Monmouth.

Last, behind this first group advanced Mortimer and Dudley, sustaining

between them the young Lord Rothsay, whose bowed figure and trembling

steps contrasted with the tall stature and manly bearing of his two

supports.

While the other gentlemen incumbered the narrow stairway, the three

lords--these three noble types of chivalrous fidelity--remained on the

deck.

"Listen, listen," said Dudley, "perhaps we shall hear the voice of

James----"

In fact, the most profound silence reigned at first, but it was soon

interrupted by exclamations of joy with which mingled lively and tender

protestations. At last the stairway was free.

Scarcely moderating their impatience from regard for Lord Rothsay, who

descended with difficulty, the two lords reached the gun-deck and

entered in their turn the great cabin of the frigate, where Croustillac

gave audience to his partisans. For some moments the three noblemen were

stupefied by the tableau presented to their eyes.

At the back of the great cabin, which was lighted by five portholes,

Croustillac, clothed in his old green coat and pink stockings, stood

proudly beside De Chemerant; the latter, swelling with pride, seemed to

triumphantly present the chevalier to the English gentlemen.

A little back of De Chemerant stood the captain of the frigate and his

staff. The partisans of Monmouth, picturesquely grouped, surrounded the

Gascon.

The adventurer, although a little pale, retained his audacity; seeing

that he was not recognized, he resumed little by little his accustomed

assurance, and said to himself: "Mortimer must have boasted of knowing

me intimately in order to give himself airs of familiarity with a

nobleman of my degree. Come then, zounds! let that last which can!"

The force of illusion is such that among the gentlemen who pressed

around the adventurer some discovered a very decided "family look" to

Charles II.; others, a striking resemblance to his portraits.

"My lords and gentlemen," said Croustillac, with a gesture toward De

Chemerant, "this gentleman, in reporting to me your wishes, has decided

me to return to your midst."

"My lord duke, with us it is to the death!" cried the most enthusiastic.

"I count on that, my lords; as for me, my motto shall be: 'All for

England and'----"

"This is too much impudence! blood and murder!" thundered Lord Mortimer,

interrupting the chevalier and springing toward him with blazing eyes

and clinched fists, while Dudley upheld Lord Jocelyn.

The apostrophe of Mortimer had an astounding effect on the spectators

and the actors in this scene. The English gentlemen turned quickly

toward Mortimer. De Chemerant and the officers looked at each other with

astonishment, as yet comprehending none of his words.

"Zounds! here we are," thought Croustillac; "only to see this tipsy

brute; I should smell the Mortimer a league off." The nobleman stepped

into the empty space that the gentlemen had left between the Gascon and

themselves, in recoiling; he planted himself before him, his arms

crossed, his eyes flashing, looking him straight in the face, exclaiming

in a voice trembling with rage: "Ah! you are James of Monmouth--you!--it

is to me--Mortimer--that you say that?"

Croustillac was sublime in his impudence and coolness; he answered

Mortimer with an accent of melancholy reproach: "Exile and adversity

must indeed have changed me much if my best friend no longer recognizes

me!" Then, half-turning toward De Chemerant, the chevalier added in a

low tone: "You see, it is as I told you; the emotion has been too

violent; his poor head is completely upset. Alas, this unhappy man does

not know me!"

Croustillac expressed himself so naturally and with so much assurance,

that De Chemerant still hesitated to believe himself the dupe of so

enormous an imposition; he did not long retain any doubts on this

subject.

Lord Dudley and Lord Rothsay joined Mortimer and the other gentlemen in

showering upon the unfortunate Gascon the most furious apostrophes and

insults.

"This miserable vagabond dares to call himself James of Monmouth!"

"The infamous impostor!"

"The scoundrel must have murdered him in order to pass himself off for

him!"

"He is an emissary of William!"

"That beggar, James, our duke!"

"What audacity!"

"To dare to tell such a lie!"

"He ought to have his tongue torn out!"

"To deceive us so impudently--we who had never seen the duke!"

"This cries for vengeance!"

"Since he takes his name he must know where he is!"

"Yes, he shall answer for our duke!"

"We will throw him into the sea if he does not give our James back to

us!"

"We will tear out his nails to make him speak!"

"To play thus with what is most sacred!"

"How could De Chemerant have fallen into a trap so gross!"

"This miserable wretch has deceived me most outrageously, gentlemen!"

cried De Chemerant, striving in vain to make himself heard.

"Come, then; explain yourself, sir."

"He shall pay dearly for his audacity, gentlemen."

"First, chain up this traitor."

"He abused my confidence by the most execrable lies. Gentlemen, any one

would have been deceived as much as I was."

"One cannot mock thus the faith of brave gentlemen who sacrifice

themselves to the good cause."

"De Chemerant, you are as culpable as this miserable scoundrel."

"But, my lords, the English envoy was deceived as well as I."

"It is impossible; you are his accomplice."

"My lords, you insult me!"

"A man of your experience, sir, does not allow himself to be made

ridiculous in this way."

"We must avenge ourselves!"

"Yes, vengeance! vengeance!"

These accusations, these reproaches bandied about so rapidly, caused

such a tumult that it was impossible for De Chemerant to make himself

heard among so many furious cries. The attitude of the English gentlemen

became so threatening toward him, their recriminations so violent, that

he placed himself alongside the officers of the frigate, and all carried

their hands to their swords.

Croustillac, alone between the two groups, was a butt for the

invectives, the attacks, and the maledictions of both parties. Intrepid,

audacious, his arms crossed, his head high, his eye unblenching, the

adventurer heard the muttering and bursting forth of this formidable

storm with impassible phlegm, saying to himself: "This ruins all; they

may throw me overboard--that is to say, into the open sea; the leap is

perilous, though I can swim like a Triton, but I can do no more; this

was sure to happen sooner or later; and beside, as I said this morning,

one does not sacrifice oneself for people in order to be crowned with

flowers and caressed by woodland nymphs."

Although at its height, the tumult was dominated by the voice of

Mortimer who cried: "Monsieur De Chemerant, have this wretch hanged

first; you owe us this satisfaction."

"Yes, yes, hang him to the yardarm," said the English gentlemen; "we

will have our explanations afterward."

"You will oblige me much by explaining yourselves beforehand!" cried

Croustillac.

"He speaks! he dares to speak!" cried one.

"Eh! who, then, will speak in my favor, if not myself?" replied the

Gascon. "Would it be you, by chance, my gentleman?"

"Gentlemen," cried De Chemerant, "Lord Mortimer is right in proposing

that justice be done to this abominable impostor."

"He is wrong; I maintain that he is wrong, a hundred thousand times

wrong!" cried Croustillac; "it is an obsolete, tame, vulgar means----"

"Be silent, unhappy wretch!" cried the athletic Mortimer, seizing the

hands of the Gascon.

"Do not lay your hands on a gentleman, or, Sdeath! you shall pay dear

for this outrage!" cried Croustillac angrily.

"Your sword, scoundrel!" said De Chemerant, while twenty raised arms

threatened the adventurer.

"In fact, the lion can do nothing against an hundred wolves," said the

Gascon majestically, giving up his rapier.

"Now, gentlemen," resumed De Chemerant, "I continue. Yes, the honorable

Lord Mortimer is right in wishing to have this rascal hanged."

"He is wrong! as long as I can raise my voice I will protest that he is

wrong! it is a preposterous, an unheard-of idea; it is the reasoning of

a horse. A fine argument is the gallows!" cried Croustillac, struggling

between two gentlemen who held him by the collar.

"But before administering justice, it is necessary to oblige him to

reveal to us the abominable plot which he has concocted. It is necessary

that he should unveil to us the mysterious circumstances by the aid of

which he has shamelessly betrayed my good faith."

"To what good? 'Dead the beast, dead the venom,'" cried Mortimer

roughly.

"I tell you that you reason as ingeniously as a bulldog which leaps at

the throat of a bull," cried Croustillac.

"Patience, patience; it is a cravat of good hemp which will stop your

preaching very soon," responded Mortimer.

"Believe me, my lords," replied De Chemerant, "a council will be formed;

they will interrogate this rascal; if he does not answer, we shall have

plenty of means to force him to it; there is more than one kind of

torture."

"Ah, so far I am of your mind," said Mortimer; "I consent that he shall

not be hanged before being put to the rack; this will be to do two

things instead of one."

"You are generous, my lord," said the Gascon.

In thinking of the fury which must have possessed the soul of De

Chemerant, who saw the enterprise which he thought he had so skillfully

conducted a complete failure, one understands, without excusing it, the

cruelty of his resolution in regard to Croustillac.

Their minds were so excited, the disappointment had been so irritating,

so distressing even, for the greater part of the adherents of Monmouth,

that these gentlemen, humane enough otherwise, allowed themselves on

this occasion to be carried away by blind anger, and but little more was

needed to bring it about that the unfortunate Croustillac should not

even be cited before a species of council of war, whose meeting might at

least give an appearance of legality to the violence of which he was the

victim.

Five noblemen and five officers assembled immediately under the

presidency of the captain of the frigate.

De Chemerant placed himself on the right, the chevalier stood on the

left. The session commenced.

De Chemerant said briefly, and with a voice still trembling with anger:

"I accuse the man here present with having falsely and wickedly taken

the names and titles of his grace the Duke of Monmouth, and with having

thus, by his odious imposture, ruined the designs of the king, my

master, and under such circumstances the crime of this man should be

considered as an attack upon the safety of the state. In consequence, I

demand that the accused here present be declared guilty of high treason,

and be condemned to death."

"'Sdeath, sir, you draw your conclusions quickly and well; here is

something clear and brief," said Croustillac, whose natural courage rose

to the occasion.

"Yes, yes, this impostor merits death; but before that, it is necessary

that he should speak, and that he should at once be put to the

question," said the English lords.

The captain of the frigate, who presided over the council, was not, like

De Chemerant, under the influence of personal resentment; he said to the

Englishmen: "My lords, we have not yet voted a punishment; it is

necessary before interrogating him to listen to his defense, if he can

defend himself; after which we will consult as to the punishment which

should be inflicted upon him. Let us not forget that we are judges and

that he has not yet been declared guilty."

These cool, wise words pleased the five lords less than the angry

excitement of De Chemerant; nevertheless, not being able to raise any

objection, they were silent.

"Accused," said the captain to the chevalier, "what are your names?"

"Polypheme, Chevalier de Croustillac."

"A Gascon!" said De Chemerant, between his teeth; "I might have known it

from his impudence. To have been the sport of such a miserable

scoundrel!"

"Your profession?" continued the captain.

"For the moment, that of an accused person before a tribunal over which

you worthily preside, captain; for you do not choose, and with reason,

that men should be hanged without a hearing."

"You are accused of having knowingly and wickedly deceived Monsieur de

Chemerant, who is charged with a mission of state for the king, our

master."

"It is De Chemerant who deceived himself; he called me 'your highness,'

and I innocently answered to the name."

"Innocently!" cried De Chemerant furiously; "how, scoundrel! have you

not abused my confidence by the most atrocious lies? have you not

surprised from me the most important secrets of state by your impudent

treachery?"

"You have spoken, I have listened. I may even declare, for my

justification, that you have appeared to me singularly dull. If it is a

crime to have listened to you, you have rendered this crime

enormous----"

The captain made a sign to De Chemerant to restrain his indignation; he

said to the Gascon: "Will you reveal what you know relative to James,

Duke of Monmouth? Will you tell us through what chain of events you came

to take his names and titles?"

Croustillac saw that his position was becoming very dangerous; he had a

mind to reveal all; he could address himself to the devoted partisans of

the prince, assure himself of their support in announcing to them that

the duke had been saved, thanks to him. But an honorable scruple

withheld him; this secret was not his own; it did not belong to him to

betray the mysteries which had concealed and protected the existence of

the duke, and might still protect him.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

THE CHASE.

When the captain intimated anew to Croustillac the order to reveal all

he knew about the duke, the adventurer responded, this time with a

firmness full of dignity:

"I have nothing to say on this subject, captain; this secret is not

mine."

"Thunder and blood!" cried Mortimer, "the torture shall make you speak.

Light two bunches of tow dipped in sulphur. I will myself place them

under his chin; that will loosen his tongue--and we shall know where our

James is. Ah! I had indeed a presentiment that I should never see him

again."

"I ought to say to you," said the captain to the Gascon, "that if you

obstinately maintain a culpable silence, you will thus compromite in the

gravest manner the interests of the king and of the state, and we shall

be forced to have recourse to the harshest means in order to make you

speak."

These quiet words, calmly pronounced by a man with a venerable

countenance, who since the beginning of the scene had endeavored to

moderate the violence of the adversaries of Croustillac, made on the

latter a lively impression; he shivered slightly, but his resolution was

not shaken; he answered with a steady voice: "Excuse me, captain, I have

nothing to say, I will say nothing."