Avarice-Anger Part 43

"Fears! fears about what, I should like to know! What risk can a quiet merchant like monsieur run? A merchant who doesn't meddle with other people's affairs, but travels about from town to town in a post-chaise, to sell his goods. What risk does a man like that run? Besides, he travels only in the daytime, and always has his clerk with him, and you know he would go through fire and water for your father, though he really does seem to be the most unfortunate of mortals."

"That is true. Poor man! some accident seems to befall him every time he travels with my father."

"Yes, and why? Simply because he is the most meddlesome old creature that ever lived, and the awkwardest. Still, that doesn't prevent him from being a great protection to monsieur if any one should attempt to molest him. So what have you to fear, my child?"

"Nothing."

"Think how you would feel if you had a father in the army as so many girls have."

"I could never stand such a terrible strain as that. Why, to be always thinking that my father was exposed to danger, to death,--why, the mere idea of such a thing is appalling."

"Yes, my poor child, the mere idea of such a thing makes you as pale as a ghost, and sets you to trembling like a leaf. It does not surprise me, though, for I know how devoted you are to your father. But drive these dreadful thoughts from your mind, and, by the way, suppose Onesime finishes reading the paper to us."

"Certainly, if M. Onesime is not too tired."

"No, mademoiselle," replied the young man, making almost superhuman efforts to conceal his suffering, which was becoming more and more intolerable.

And getting the paper as close to his eyes as possible, he was preparing to resume the reading, when he remarked:

"I think this is an article which is likely to interest mademoiselle."

"What is it about?"

"It describes the exploits of that famous Dieppe privateer, of whom everybody is talking."

"I fear the article will be too exciting for you to-day, my dear, you seem to be so nervous," remarked the housekeeper.

"Is it such a very blood-curdling story, M. Onesime?" inquired the girl, smiling.

"I think not, mademoiselle, judging from the t.i.tle. The article is headed: 'Remarkable Escape of the Brave Captain l'Endurci, Who Was Abducted from French Soil by English Emissaries.'"

"It must be very interesting. Pray read it, monsieur."

So the young man at once began to read the following account of the brave captain's escape.

CHAPTER VIII.

THE CAPTAIN'S NARRATIVE.

"All France is familiar with the name and heroic valour of Captain l'Endurci, commander of the privateer _h.e.l.l-hound_, as well as the large number of prizes which the gallant captain has recently captured from the English.

"Only a few days ago Captain l'Endurci returned to Dieppe, with a large three-master belonging to the East India Company, and armed with thirty guns, in tow, while the _h.e.l.l-hound_ can boast of only sixteen. This three-master, which was convoying several merchant vessels loaded with wheat, had, together with her convoy, been captured by the intrepid captain, after a desperate fight of three hours, in which nearly or quite one-half of the French crew had been killed or wounded.

"The gallant captain's entrance into the port of Dieppe was a veritable triumph. The entire population of the town a.s.sembled upon the piers, and when the brig, black with powder and riddled with shot, sailed slowly in with her prizes, shouts of the wildest enthusiasm rent the air, but the brave captain's triumph became an ovation when the people learned that the vessels which the three-master was convoying were laden with wheat.

At a time when grain is so appallingly scarce in France, such a capture is a national benefaction, and when the people discovered that Captain l'Endurci, being aware of the speedy arrival of these vessels, had spent several days lying in wait for them, allowing richer and less dangerous prizes to pa.s.s unmolested, all Dieppe went wild."

"How grand!" exclaimed the housekeeper, enthusiastically. "Ah, I would give ten years of my life to be the mother or sister of such a hero."

"And I, my friend, deem myself a thousand times more fortunate in being the daughter of an honest merchant, instead of having some bloodthirsty hero for a father," remarked Sabine.

"What a strange child you are! Wouldn't you feel proud to be able to say: 'That famous man is my father?'"

"Not by any means. If he were absent, I should be always trembling to think of the danger he might be in; if he were with me, I should always be imagining I saw blood on his hands."

"Such ideas seem very strange to me, for I love heroes, myself," said the older woman, gaily. "But go on, Onesime, I am anxious to hear how this valiant captain could have been kidnapped on French soil." Then, noticing that her nephew was unusually pale, and that big drops of perspiration were standing on his brow, she asked:

"What is the matter, Onesime? You seem to be suffering."

"No, indeed, aunt," replied the young man, enraged at himself for not being able to conceal the agony his burn was causing him. "Now listen to the rest of the story.

"Captain l'Endurci, after a three day's sojourn in Dieppe, started for Paris, unfortunately leaving his head gunner, one of his oldest comrades-in-arms, who was seriously wounded in the last engagement, in Dieppe to attend to some business matters.

"It was between the second and the third post-stations on his route that this audacious attack was made upon the captain, evidently by English emissaries who had been lying in wait for him. It seems that these emissaries had taken advantage of the postilion's credulity to persuade him to allow one of them to take his place and drive the vehicle for awhile. This change of drivers was made while ascending a steep hill, where the progress of the vehicle was necessarily slow, but the Englishman was scarcely in the saddle before he started the horses off at a frightful pace, while the postilion was hurled half-dead upon the ground by the other Englishman, who was clinging to the back of the post-chaise.

"The captain astonished at the terrific speed with which the horses were tearing down the steep descent, thought that the postilion had neglected to put on the brake, and had lost all control of the horses; but soon the rate of speed diminished perceptibly, though the vehicle continued to fly swiftly along.

"The night having become very dark, the captain could not see that the carriage, instead of following the main road, was going in an entirely different direction. Not having the slightest suspicion of this fact, and ignorant of the change of postilions, the captain rode on in this way about an hour and a half, and finally fell asleep.

"The sudden stopping of the carriage woke him, and supposing that he had reached the next relay station, and seeing two or three lanterns flitting about, he was unsuspectingly alighting from the vehicle, when several men suddenly rushed upon him, and, before he had time to offer the slightest resistance, he was securely bound and gagged, and dragged down to the beach on the outskirts of the little seaport town of Hosey, about fifteen miles from Dieppe, and known as the headquarters of a daring gang of smugglers. Here, the captain, who was unable to make the slightest movement or utter a word, was hustled aboard a fis.h.i.+ng-smack, and a few minutes afterward, wind and tide both being favourable, the little vessel set sail for England.

[Ill.u.s.tration: _"Several men rushed upon him."_

Original etching by Adrian Marcel.]

"But Captain l'Endurci is not the man to tamely submit to defeat, as the following extract from that gentleman's letter to a friend in this city conclusively proves.

"He writes as follows:

"'When I found myself a prisoner in the hold, my rage at the cowardly trick which had been played upon me became ungovernable. I had been thrown upon a few pieces of old sail in the hold, with my legs securely bound together with a long piece of rope as big as my thumb, and with my hands tied behind my back. I tried by stooping to reach with my teeth the rope that bound my legs, but found it impossible. I knew by the motion of the boat that a strong wind was blowing, and that we were heading straight for the sh.o.r.es of England.

"'I knew the fate that awaited me there. A few words that had pa.s.sed between my captors had enlightened me. Instead of killing me outright, they wanted to see me lead a life of torture in the hulks. One of them had even spoken of exposing me to the jeers and insults of the populace for several days.

"'The mere thought of such a thing nearly drove me mad, and in a paroxysm of fury I sank back on the old sails, foaming with rage. This ebullition over, anger as usual gave me new strength. My blood boiled in my veins, then, mounting to my brain, gave birth to a thousand projects, each one more audacious than the other, and I felt both my physical and mental vigour increased a hundred-fold by this effervescent condition of all my vital powers.

"'I finally decided upon one of the plans that this paroxysm of rage had suggested to me. In any other frame of mind, it would have seemed utterly impracticable to me, and I believe it would have seemed so to any man who was not half frenzied by a spirit of anger,--anger, that dread and powerful divinity, as the Indian poet says.'"

For some time the young girl who sat listening had seemed to be a prey to a painful preoccupation; several times she had started impatiently as if anxious to escape from some harrowing thought, and now suddenly interrupting the reading in spite of herself, as it were, she exclaimed:

"That man makes me shudder!"

"And why?" demanded the housekeeper. "This brave sailor seems to me as brave as a lion."

"But what a man of iron!" exclaimed the girl, more and more excitedly.

"How violent he is! And to think that any person should dare to excuse and even glorify anger when it is so horrible--so unspeakably horrible!"