A Romance of the West Indies Part 48

"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 pa.s.sionately 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 pa.s.sage.

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 superst.i.tious, 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 G.o.d! 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 superst.i.tious, 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, pa.s.s 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."