The wind was favourable for the black galley and the polacre, and after
having passed the island of Lerol the two vessels slackened their speed.
Luquin Trinquetaille touched at the different harbours along the coast,
without meeting the pirate ships, which he was to announce to the
commander by a shot from his swivel-gun.
Toward evening, just as the sun was sinking below the horizon, the black
galley and the polacre arrived in sight of the isles of Ste. Marguerite,
at the moment, as we have just said, when the chebec of Hadji issued
from the road, in quest of the Christian galleys, in obedience to the
commands of Pog.
Captain Trinquetaille signalled the chebec, and set every sail to join
it. The Bohemian slackened his speed and waited for him. The betrothed
of Stephanette, by the aid of his telescope, recognised Hadji, who was
commanding the little craft. The worthy captain of the _Holy Terror to
the Moors_ boiled with rage at this encounter, and had need of all his
self-control not to attack the author of Stephanette’s abduction, but,
faithful to the orders of the commander, he doubled the point of Lerol,
and soon perceived the _Red Galleon_ and the galley of Trimalcyon
anchored in the bay, very near each other.
Thus having obtained an exact knowledge of the position of the pirates,
he stood toward the black galley in order to announce this discovery to
Pierre des Anbiez, while the chebec of Hadji was entering the bay under
full sail.
When he arrived near the stem of the black galley and gave this
information to the pilot, the latter, in obedience to the commander,
ordered him to set back the sails of the polacre, and come on board.
Luquin obeyed, but was in despair to see that the chebec of Hadji, whom
he was burning to fight, had escaped him.
The chevaliers had assembled on the deck of the galley, and, according
to the methods of warfare of that time, had cleared the deck for action.
The rambades, which formed a sort of forecastle at the prow, where the
five pieces of artillery belonging to the galley were in battery, were
already covered with coarse oakum cloth, several inches in thickness.
This heavy covering was designed to deaden the effect of the enemy’s
projectiles.
In case the galley was boarded by the enemy, an entrenchment called
a bastion had been erected, which extended the entire length of the
ship’s balcony, and reached to the height of the fourth bench of the
prow.
This entrenchment was constructed of beams and crosspieces of timber,
the spaces between being filled with old cordage and dilapidated sails.
This construction, six feet high on the side of the stem, was only
five feet high at the prow, toward which it sloped to the level of the
rambades, and was designed to prevent the raking fire of the enemy’s
artillery, sweeping the length of the galley.
The subordinate officers and soldiers were armed with steel helmets,
buff-skin, and neck-pieces of iron. Matches ready for lighting lay near
the cannon and swivel-guns; the masts had been hauled down and placed in
the waist of the vessel, as galleys never fight with sails up, but are
sustained by their oars.
The slaves who composed the crew looked on these preparations for battle
with mute terror or sullen indifference. These poor creatures, chained
to their benches, were accounted only a locomotive power. The discipline
of force, to which they had been subjected on board the galley, had,
through its severity, given them the calmness necessary for confronting
danger.
Their position was one of peculiar trial. The gagged and passive
spectators of a desperate battle,--since during a conflict the crews
were generally gagged by means of a piece of wood inserted in the
mouth,--they were not able to deaden their perception of danger, or
satisfy that instinct of ferocity which self-preservation always awakens
in men at the sight of carnage, that enthusiasm or courage which demands
blow for blow, and kills in order not to be killed.
Nor had these slaves any hope of the ordinary results which follow a
victory. If their vessel was the conqueror they continued to row
on board of her; if she was conquered, they rowed on board of the
conqueror.
Placed during the action between the balls of the enemy and the pistols
of their keepers, who killed them on their first refusal to row, the men
of the crew only escaped certain death by exposing themselves to a
death less certain, inasmuch as there was a possibility of missing the
enemy’s balls, while the keepers fired their pistols into the breasts
of their helpless victims. Under such an alternative the galley-slaves
resigned themselves to their fate and continued to row.
In all cases, they were indifferent to victory, and not unfrequently
were interested in defeat, since the conquerors, Turks or Arabs, often
delivered their own nationality. As to the renegades, all crews were
alike to them. Hence, the convict-crew of the black galley knew only
that they were about to do battle with the _Red Galleon_, and were
utterly indifferent to the result of the engagement.
Preparations for the fight went on in the most profound silence. The
calm, austere countenances of the soldiers of the cross showed that
they found nothing unusual in these preliminary details. The chevaliers
carefully inspected the different services with which they were charged;
so seriously was every duty performed, that one might have thought the
actors were preparing for some religious rite.
At the stern, the assembled chevaliers made a rigid examination of the
position of the two galleys commanded by the pirates.
When Luquin Trinquetaille arrived on deck, the overseer ordered him
to attend the commander, who was expected there. Pierre des Anbiez,
kneeling in his chamber, was fervently praying. Since his departure from
Maison-Forte, the gloomiest presentiments had assailed his mind. In the
poignancy of his remorse, he had seen a providential coincidence in
his return and the frightful disasters which had just overwhelmed his
family. He accused himself of having, by his own crime, called down the
vengeance of Heaven upon the house of Anbiez.
His imagination, unnaturally excited by the violent emotions which had
shaken his whole being, evoked the strangest phantoms.
As he cast a serious yet fearful glance upon the portrait of Pog,--the
Count de Montreuil,--which was hanging in his chamber, it seemed to him
that the eyes of this portrait glowed with a supernatural brilliancy.
Twice he approached the frame to assure himself that he was not the
sport of an illusion; twice he recoiled terrified, feeling his brow
bathed in a cold sweat, and his hair standing up on his head.
Then he was struck with dizziness,--his reason forsook him,--he saw
nothing more. Objects unnamable passed before his eyes with frightful
rapidity; it seemed to him that he was being transported on the wings of
a whirlwind.
By degrees he came to himself,--the aberration was past, and he found
himself in his chamber on the galley, face to face with the portrait of
Pog.
For the first time in his life he felt a dark and painful presentiment
at the thought of going into battle. Instead of burning with that wild
enthusiasm which characterised him, instead of thinking with a sort of
ferocious joy upon the tumult of the fray, which had so often stifled
the remorse which cried aloud in his soul, his thoughts turned
involuntarily to death and disaster.
He started, as he asked himself if his soul was ready to appear before
the Lord,--if the austerities which he had imposed upon himself for so
many years sufficed for the expiation of his crime.
Terrified, he fell upon his knees, and began to pray with fervour,
beseeching God to give him the courage and the strength to accomplish
his last mission,--once more to uplift the cross triumphantly, and to
rescue Reine des Anbiez from the hands of her ravishers.
He had scarcely finished his prayer when some one knocked at his door.
He rose to his feet. The artilleryman, Captain Hugues, appeared.
“What do you want?”
“A man in a boat, sent by these miscreants, wishes to make some
terms with you. M. Commander, must I welcome him with a shot from my
swivel-gun, or send him on deck?”
“Send him on deck.”
“Where shall I conduct him?”
“Here.”
Pierre des Anbiez thought he understood the nature of the desired
interview. The pirates, holding Reine des Anbiez as a hostage, wished,
no doubt, to make terms for her ransom.
The artillery officer returned with the Bohemian.
“What do you want?” said the commander to him.
“Order this man to retire, monseigneur; your ears alone should hear
what my lips will say.”
“You are very impudent,” replied Pierre de Anbiez, looking at Hadji,
sharply.
Then he added, addressing Captain Hugues: “Leave us--go away.”
“Alone with this robber, M. Commander?”
“We are three,” said Pierre des Anbiez, pointing to his arms hanging
on the wall.
“Do you take me, then, for an assassin?” said Hadji, with scorn.
The artillery officer shrugged his shoulders, and went out with evident
regret, although the tall stature and robust figure of the commander,
compared to the slender proportions of the Bohemian, ought to have
reassured him.
“Speak, as I do not wish to have you crucified yet at the prow of my
galley,” said Pierre des Anbiez to the Bohemian.
The latter, with his accustomed insolence, replied: “When my hour
comes it shall find me. Pog-Reis, captain of the _Red Galleon_, sends me
to you, monseigneur. It was he who attacked La Ciotat that night; it is
he certainly who has Reine des Anbiez in his power.”
“Enough, enough, wretch, do not boast longer of your crimes, or I will
have your tongue torn out! What have you come to demand? I am eager to
chastise your accomplices and make a terrible example of them. If you
come to speak of favour and ransom, hear well what fate awaits you
and yours; let them try to defend themselves or not, they shall all be
carried in chains to La Ciotat, and burned in the middle of the town
hall square. Do you understand clearly?”
“I understand clearly,” said the Bohemian, with imperturbable
coolness. “Pog-Reis will not object to your burning his crew.”
“What do you mean? That he will deliver his accomplices to me, if I
grant him his life? It is natural that barbarity like his should hide an
ignoble cowardice. If that is his opinion, I am of another mind. The
two captains of the galleys and you, all three shall be quartered before
being burned, even if you deliver to me your accomplices bound hand and
foot, to receive the punishment they deserve. So, go at once, and tell
that to your confederates. Go! my blood boils when I think of that
unfortunate city and my brother! Go! I do not wish to soil my hands with
the blood of a bandit, and I wish you to warn your associates of the
fate which awaits them!”
“I had nothing to do with the massacre in the city, monseigneur.”
“Will you finish?”
“Ah, well, monseigneur, Pog-Reis and the other captain propose a
single combat to you and one of your chevaliers, two against two, with
the Spanish sword and dagger. If he is killed, you will attack his
galleys afterward, and easily capture them, as there will then be two
bodies without a head. If you are killed, your lieutenant will attack
the galleys of Pog-Reis. The desire to avenge your death will give new
zeal to your soldiers, and no doubt they will offer Pog-Reis and his
crew as a holocaust to your ghost. That need not change your plans in
the least; only the captain of the _Red Galleon_ will find himself face
to face with the captain of the black galley. The tiger and the lion can
thus defy each other.”
The commander listened to this proposition, as insolent as it was
unheard of, in silence and astonishment.
When the Bohemian ceased talking, Pierre des Anbiez, in his wrath, could
not resist seizing him by the throat, and crying: “What! you wretch,
is that the message with which you are charged? You dare propose to me
to cross swords with an assassin like Pog-Reis and one of his brigands!
By the holy cross!” added the commander, pushing back the Bohemian so
violently that he stumbled to the other end of the chamber, “to punish
you for your impudence, I shall have you given twenty lashes on the
chase-gun before handing you over to execution.”
The Bohemian darted the glance of a tiger at Pierre des Anbiez and
gnashed his teeth together in rage, but seeing that he would be at
a disadvantage in a contest, he restrained himself and replied:
“Pog-Reis, monseigneur, counted on your refusal at first, and,
to decide you, he instructed me to inform you that your brother’s
daughter was in his power. If you refuse his proposition, if you attack
his galleys at once, Reine des Anbiez and all the captives we have taken
shall be instantly put to death.”
“Wretch!”
“If, on the contrary, you accept the combat and send your gauntlet as
a pledge, Reine des Anbiez will be brought on board your vessel without
ransom, as well as the other prisoners that Pog-Reis has taken at
La Ciotat.” “I will never make terms with such murderers. Go!”
“Think of it, consider it, monseigneur. Pog-Reis, if you attack him,
will defend himself vigorously. If he is defeated, he will blow up
his ship. You will have neither him nor Reine des Anbiez nor the other
captives, while by accepting this single combat you can return the young
girl to her father, and the captives to their city.”
“Be silent!” said the commander, who could not help reflecting
that this proposition had its advantage, notwithstanding its audacious
insolence.
“Finally,” said Hadji, as if he had guarded this last consideration
as the most decisive, “a mysterious spirit wishes the combat that
Pog-Reis proposes to you. Yes, this morning, after the attack on La
Ciotat, Pog-Reis, exhausted by fatigue, fell asleep and had a dream. A
voice said to him that a single combat between him and a soldier of the
cross to-day would expiate a great crime.”
These last words of the Bohemian struck the commander, and he started.
Already he believed, in the intensity of his remorse, that his crime had
brought upon his family the frightful evils which had befallen it. When
he heard Hadji speak of the expiation of a great crime, he believed
âiat the will of Heaven had been declared in these words, uttered by
chance.
“What dream? what dream? speak,” said he to the Bohemian, in a
hollow voice, as he was seized by a secret terror.
“What matters the dream to you, monseigneur?”
“Speak, I tell you, speak!”
“Pog-Reis was transported into the region of visions,” replied
Hadji, with an Oriental emphasis. “He heard the voice of the spirit.
It said to him, ‘Look!’ and he saw a woman in a coffin, and that woman
had been pierced to the heart and her wound was bleeding. And near the
dead woman Pog-Reis beheld the vision of a soldier of Christ,--that
vision was you!”
“I! I!” cried the commander, petrified with astonishment.
“You!” said Hadji, restraining his joy, for he saw that this story,
prepared by Pog-Reis, accomplished the desire of the pirate.
Pog,--the Count de Montreuil,--judging of the religious character of
the commander by the letters which the Bohemian had stolen from the
watchman’s cabin, did not doubt that Pierre des Anbiez would be
impressed by this dream, and thus be induced to decide in favour of the
combat. The commander was all the more impressed by this account of the
dream, inasmuch as he believed his crime had never been discovered.
“Ah, God wishes it, God wishes it,” murmured he, in a low voice.
The Bohemian continued without appearing to hear him: “The spirit said
to Pog, ‘Tomorrow you will fight this soldier of Christ, one to
one, and a great crime will be expiated.’ Pog-Reis has committed great
crimes, monseigneur, he has never felt remorse, the revelation of the
spirit has touched him, and he wishes to obey it. He offers you combat.
Take care not to refuse it. Christian, the God of all sends his dreams
to all indiscriminately. It is by dreams that he declares his will.
Perhaps, he chooses you, holy man, as an instrument of a great
vengeance; you ought to obey. Perhaps in asking combat of you, Pog-Reis
asks for death at your hands.”
The astonishment, the terror, of the commander can be comprehended. In
these words, he saw a divine revelation; he thought he heard the voice
of the Lord commanding this expiation, and, contrary to the prediction
of the Bohemian, believed that the anger of Heaven had decreed himself
to be the victim which should fall under the blows of Pog.
Finally, in accepting the combat, he assured the rescue of Reine des
Anbiez; he would return a daughter to her father, and prisoners to their
weeping families,--a last proof that divine justice desired to strike
him alone, since it offered him the means of repairing the evils his
crime had called down upon his own.
When we reflect that the constant remorse of Pierre des Anbiez, while
it did not impair his reason, had predisposed him to a sort of religious
fatalism by no means orthodox, but calculated to make a deep impression
upon his earnest and gloomy nature, we may comprehend the crushing
effect produced on him by the language of Hadji.
After a moment’s silence, he said to the Bohemian,
“Go up on deck, I will give you my orders.”
Then he sent for the overseer, and commanded him to conduct Hadji on
deck, to watch over him, and to take him under his protection.