Captain Canot Part 28

Germaine was a philosophic felon. It was perhaps the trick of an intellect naturally astute, and of a spirit originally refined, to reject the vulgar baseness of common pilfering. Germaine never stole or defrauded;--he only outwitted and outgeneralled. If he spoke of the world, either in politics or trade, he insisted that shams, forgeries, and counterfeits were quite as much played off in the language, address and dealings of statesmen, merchants, parsons, doctors, and lawyers, as they were by himself and his accomplices. The only difference between the felon and the jury, he alleged, existed in the fact that the jury was in the majority and the felon in the vocative. He advocated the worst forms of liberty and equality; he was decidedly in favor of a division of property, which he was sure would end what _the law called_ crime, because all would be supplied on the basis of a common balance. Whenever he told his ancient exploits or suggested new ones, he glossed them invariably with a rhetorical varnish about the laws of nature, social contracts, human rights, _meum and tuum_; and concluded, to his perfect satisfaction, with a favorite axiom, that "he had quite as much _right_ to the world's goods as they who possessed them."

A hypocritical farrago of this character always prefaced one of Germaine's tales, so that I hardly ever interrupted the rogue when he became fluent about social theories, but waited patiently, in confidence that I was shortly to be entertained with an adventure or enterprise.

The forger began his story on this occasion with a most fantastical and exaggerated account of the celebrated _Santissima Casa_ of Loretto, which he imagined was still endowed with all the treasures it possessed anterior to its losses during the pontificate of Pius VI. He a.s.serted that it was the richest tabernacle in Europe, and that the adornments of the altar were valued at several millions of crowns,--the votive offerings and legacies of devotees during a long period of time.

This holy and opulent shrine, the professor of politico-economico-equality proposed to rob at some convenient period; and, to effect it, he had "polished" the following plan during the watches of the night.

On some stormy day of winter, he proposed to leave Ancona, as a traveller from South America, and approaching the convent attached to the church of the Madonna of Loretto, demand hospitality for a penitent who had made the tiresome pilgrimage on a vow to the Virgin.

There could be no doubt of his admission. For three days he would most devoutly attend _matins_ and vespers, and crave permission to serve as an _acolyte_ at the altar, the duties of which he perfectly understood. When the period of his departure arrived, he would be seized with sudden illness, and, in all likelihood, the brethren would lodge him in their infirmary. As his malady increased, he would call a confessor, and, pouring into the father's credulous ear a tale of woes, sorrows, superst.i.tion and humbug, he would make the convent a donation of _all his estates in South America_, and pray for a remission of his sins!

When this comedy was over, convalescence should supervene; but he would adhere with conscientious obstinacy to his dying gift, and produce doc.u.ments showing the immense value of the bequeathed property. Presently, he would be suddenly smitten with a love for monastic life; and, on his knees, the Prior was to be interceded for admission to the brotherhood. All this, probably, would require time, as well as playacting of the adroitest character; yet he felt confident he could perform the drama.

At last, when a vow had sealed his novitiate, no one of the fraternity should exceed him in fervent piety and bodily mortification. Every hour would find him at the altar before the Virgin, missal in hand, _and eyes intent on the glittering image_. This incessant and unwatched devotion, he calculated, would enable him in two months to take an impression of all the locks in the _sacristy_; and, as his confederate would call every market-day at the convent gate, in the guise of a pedler, he could easily cause the keys to be fabricated in different villages by common locksmiths.

Germaine considered it indispensable that his colleague in this enterprise should be _a sailor_; for the flight with booty was to be made over sea from Ancona. As soon, therefore, as the keys were perfected, and in the hands of the impostor, the mariner was to cause a _felucca_, to cruise off sh.o.r.e, in readiness for immediate departure. Then, at a fixed time, the pedler should lurk near the convent, with a couple of mules; and, in the dead of night, the sacrilege would be accomplished.

When he finished his story, the pleasant villain, rubbed his hands with glee, and skipping about the floor like a dancing-master, began to whistle "_La Ma.r.s.ellaise_." That night, he retired earlier than usual, "to polish," as he said; but before dawn he again aroused me, with a pull, and whispered a sudden fear that his "Loretto masterpiece" would prove an abortion!

"I have considered," said he, "that the Virgin's jewels are probably nothing but false stones and waxen pearls in pinchbeck gold! Surely, those cunning monks would never leave such an amount of property idle, simply to adorn a picture or statue! No, I am positive they must have sold the gems, subst.i.tuted imitations, and bought property for their opulent convents!"--As I felt convinced of this fact, and had some inkling of a recollection about losses during a former reign, I was happy to hear that the swindler's fancy had "polished" the crime to absolute annihilation.

And now that I am about to leave this forging philosopher in prison, to mature, doubtless, some greater act of villany, I will merely add, that when I departed, he was constructing a new scheme, in which the Emperor of Russia was to be victim and paymaster. As my liberation occurred before the finishing touches were given by the artist, I am unable to say how it fared with Nicholas; but I doubt, exceedingly, whether the galleys of Brest contained a greater scoundrel, both in deeds and imaginings, than the metaphysical dandy--Monsieur Germaine.[7]

At length, my pardon and freedom came; but this was the sole reparation I received at the hands of Louis Philippe, for the unjust seizure and appropriation of my vessel in the neutral waters of Africa. When Sorret rushed in, followed by his wife, Babette, and the children, to announce the glorious news, the good fellow's emotion was so great, that he stood staring at me like a b.o.o.by, and for a long while could not articulate. Then came La Vivandiere Dolores, and my pretty Concha. Next arrived Monsieur Randanne, with the rest of my pupils; so that, in an hour, I was overwhelmed with sunshine and tears. I can still feel the grasp of Sorret's hand, as he led me beyond the bolts and bars, to read the act of royal grace. May we not feel a _spasm_ of regret at leaving even a prison?

Next day, an affectionate crowd of friends and pupils followed the emanc.i.p.ated slaver to a vessel, which, by order of the king, was to bear me, a willing exile, from France for ever.

FOOTNOTE:

[7] I know not what was his fate; but he has probably long since realized his dream of equality, though, in all likelihood, it was the equality described by old Patris of Caen:

"Ici tous sont egaux; je ne te dois plus rien: Je suis sur mon _fumier_ comme toi sur le tien!"

CHAPTER L.

I said, at the end of the last chapter, that my friends bade adieu on the quay of Brest to an "emanc.i.p.ated _slaver_;" for _slaver_ I was determined to continue, notwithstanding the capture of my vessel, and the tedious incarceration of my body. Had the seizure and sentence been justly inflicted for a violation of local or international law, I might, perhaps, have become penitent for early sins, during the long hours of reflection afforded me in the _chateau_. But, with all the fervor of an ardent and thwarted nature, I was much more disposed to rebel and revenge myself when opportunity occurred, than to confess my sins with a lowly and obedient heart. Indeed, most of my time in prison had been spent in cursing the court and king, or in reflecting how I should get back to Africa in the speediest manner, if I was ever lucky enough to elude the grasp of the model monarch.

The vessel that bore me into perpetual banishment from France, was bound to Lisbon; but, delaying in Portugal only long enough to procure a new pa.s.sport, under an a.s.sumed name, I spat upon Louis Philippe's "eternal exile," and took shipping for his loyal port of Ma.r.s.eilles!

Here I found two vessels fitting for the coast of Africa; but, in consequence of the frightful prevalence of cholera, all mercantile adventures were temporarily suspended. In fact, such was the panic, that no one dreamed of despatching the vessel in which I was promised a pa.s.sage, until the pestilence subsided. Till this occurred, as my means were of the scantiest character, I took lodgings in an humble hotel.

The dreadful malady was then apparently at its height, and nearly all the hotels were deserted, for most of the regular inhabitants had fled; while the city was unfrequented by strangers except under pressing duty. It is altogether probable that the lodging-houses and hotels would have been closed entirely, so slight was their patronage, had not the prefect issued an order, depriving of their licenses, for the s.p.a.ce of two years, all who shut their doors on strangers.

Accordingly, even when the scourge swept many hundred victims daily to their graves, every hotel, cafe, grocery, butcher shop, and bakery, was regularly opened in Ma.r.s.eilles; so that a dread of famine was not added to the fear of cholera.

Of course, the lowly establishment where I dwelt was not thronged at this epoch; most of its inmates or frequenters had departed for the country before my arrival, and I found the house tenanted alone by three boarders and a surly landlord, who cursed the authorities for their compulsory edict. My reception, therefore, was by no means cordial. I was told that the proclamation had not prevented the _cook_ from departing; and that I must be content with whatever the master of the house could toss up for my fare.

A sailor--especially one fresh from the _chateau_ of Brest,--is not apt to be over nice in the article of cookery, and I readily accompanied my knight of the rueful countenance to his _table d'hote_, which I found to be a long oval board, three fourths bare of cloth and guests, while five human visages cl.u.s.tered around its end.

I took my seat opposite a trim dashing brunette, with the brightest eyes and rosiest cheeks imaginable. Her face was so healthily refreshing in the midst of malady and death, that I altogether forgot the cholera under the charm of her ardent gaze. Next me sat a comical sort of fellow, who did not delay in sc.r.a.ping an acquaintance, and jocularly insisted on introducing all the company.

"It's a case of emergency," said the droll, "we have no time to lose or to stand on the ceremony of fashionable etiquette. Here to-day, gone to-morrow--is the motto of Ma.r.s.eilles! _Hola!_ _Messieurs_, shall we not make the most of new acquaintances when they may be so brief?"

I thanked him for his hospitality. I had so little to lose in this world, either of property or friends, that I feared the cholera quite as slightly as any of the company. "A thousand thanks," said I, "Monsieur, for your politeness; I'll bury you to-morrow, if it is the cholera's pleasure, with ten times more pleasure now that I have had the honor of an introduction. A fashionable man hardly cares to be civil to a stranger--even if he happens to be a corpse!"

There was so hearty a cheer at this sally, that, in spite of the shallow soundings of my purse, I called for a fresh bottle, and pledged the party in a b.u.mper all round.

"And now," continued my neighbor, "as it may be necessary for some one of us to write your epitaph in a day or two, or, at least, to send a message of condolence and sympathy to your friends; pray let us know a bit of your history, and what the devil brings you to Ma.r.s.eilles when the cholera thermometer is up to 1000 degrees per diem?"

Very few words were necessary to impart such a name and tale as I chose to invent for the company's edification. "Santiago Ximenes," and my tawny skin betokened my nationality and profession, while my threadbare garments spoke louder than words that I was at suit with Fortune.

Presently, after a lull in the chat, a dapper little prig of a dandy, who sat on my left, volunteered to inform me that he was no less a personage than _le Docteur_ Du Jean, a medical pract.i.tioner fresh from Metropolitan hospitals, who, in a spirit of the loftiest philanthropy, visited this provincial town at his own expense to succor the poor.

"_C'est une belle dame, notre vis a vis, n'est elle pas mon cher?_"

said he pointing to our patron saint opposite.

I admitted without argument that she was the most charming woman I ever saw out of Cuba.

"_C'est ma chere amie_," whispered he confidentially in my ear, strongly emphasizing the word "friend" and nodding very knowingly towards the lady herself. "At the present moment the dear little creature is exclusively under my charge and protection, for she is _en route_ to join her husband, a captain in the army at Algiers; but, alas! _grace a Dieu_, there's no chance of a transport so long as this cursed pestilence blockades Ma.r.s.eilles! Do you know the man on your right?--No! _Bien!_ that's the celebrated S----, the oratorical advocate about whom the papers rang when Louis Philippe began his a.s.sault on the press. He's on his way to Algiers too, and will be more successful in liberalizing the Arabs than the French. That old chap over yonder with the snuffy nose, the snuffy wig, and snuffy coat, is a grand speculator in horses, on his way to the richest cavalry corps of the army; and, as for our _maitre d'hotel_ at the head of this segment, _pauvre diable_, you see what he is without a revelation. The pestilence has nearly used him up. He sits half the day in his bureau on the stairs looking for guests who never come, reading the record which adds no name, cursing the cholera, counting a penitential _ave_ and _pater_ on his rosary, and flying from the despair of silence and desertion to his pans to stew our wretched fare. _Voila mon cher, la carte de la table! le Cholera et ses Convives!_"

If there is a creature I detest in the world it is a flippant, intrusive, voluntary youth who thrusts his conversation and affairs upon strangers, and makes bold to monopolize their time with his unasked confidence. Such persons are always silly and vulgar pretenders; and before Doctor Du Jean got through his description of the lady, I had already cla.s.sified him among my particular aversions.

When the doctor nodded so patronizingly to the dame, and spoke of his friendly protectorate, I thought I saw that the quick-witted woman not only comprehended his intimation, but denied it by the sudden glance she gave me from beneath her thin and arching eyebrows. So, when dinner was over, without saying a word to the doctor, I made a slight inclination of the head to Madame Duprez, and rising before the other guests, pa.s.sed to her side and tendered my arm for a promenade on the balcony.

"_Mon docteur_," said I as we left the room, "life, you know, is too short and precarious to suffer a monopoly of such blessings,"--looking intently into the lady's eyes,--"besides which, we sailors, in defiance of you landsmen, go in for the most 'perfect freedom of the seas.'"

Madame Duprez declared I was entirely right; that I was no pirate.--"Mais, mon capitaine," said the fair one, as she leaned with a fond pressure on my arm, "I'd have no objection if you were, so that you'd capture me from that frightful gallipot! Besides, you sailors are always so gallant towards the ladies, and tell us such delightful stories, and bring us such charming presents when you come home, and love us so much while you're in port, because you see so few when you are away! Now isn't that a delightful _catalogue raisonne_ of arguments why women should love _les matelots_?"

"Pity then, madame," said I, "that you married a _soldier_."

"Ah!" returned the ready dame, "_I_ didn't;--that was my mother's match. In France, you know, the old folks marry us; but we take the liberty to _love_ whomsoever we please!"

"But, what of _Monsieur le capitaine_, in the present instance?"

interrupted I inquiringly.

"Ah! _fi donc!_" said Madame, "what bad taste to speak of an _absent_, husband when you have the liberty to talk with a _present_ wife!"

In fact, the lovely Helen of this tavern-Troy was the dearest of coquettes, whose fence of tongue was as beautiful a game of thrust and parry as I ever saw played with Parisian foils. Du Jean had been horribly mortified by the contemptuous manner in which the threadbare Spaniard bore off his imaginary prize; and would probably have a.s.sailed me on the spot, before he knew my temper or quality, had not the lawyer drawn him aside on a plea of medical advice and given his inflamed honor time to cool.

But the wit of Madame Duprez was not so satisfied by a single specimen of our mutual folly, as to allow the surgeon to resume the undisputed post of _cavaliere serviente_ which he occupied before my arrival. It was her delight to see us at loggerheads for her favor, and though we were both aware of her arrant coquetry, neither had moral courage enough, in that dismal time, to desist from offering the most servile courtesies. We mined and counter-mined, marched and counter-marched, deceived and re-deceived, for several days, without material advantage to either, till, at last, the affair ended in a battle.

The prefecture's bulletin announced at dinner-time twelve hundred deaths! but, in spite of the horror, or perhaps to drown its memory, our undiminished party called for several more bottles, and became uproariously gay.

The conversation took a physiological turn; and gradually the modern science of phrenology, which was just then becoming fashionable, came on the carpet. Doctor Du Jean professed familiarity with its mysteries. Spurzheim, he said, had been his professor in Paris. He could read our characters on our skulls as if they were written in a book. Powers, pa.s.sions, propensities, and even thoughts, could not be hidden from him;--and, "who dared try his skill?"

"_C'est moi!_" said Madame Duprez, as she drew her chair to the centre of the room, and accepting the challenge, cast loose her beautiful hair, which fell in a raven torrent over snowy neck and shoulders, heightening tenfold every charm of face and figure.