The Knight of Malta Part 34

Sheltered by the roof of the rambade, some, seated on their cannon, busied themselves in cleaning their arms; others, wrapped in their hoods, lay on the deck asleep, while others still--a rare thing even among the soldiers of religion--were occupied in pious reading, or in telling their rosaries.

With the exception of the galley-slaves, the men on board this galley, carefully chosen by the commander, had a grave and thoughtful countenance.

Almost all the soldiers and sailors were of mature age; some were approaching old age. By the numerous scars with which the greater number were marked, it was evident that they had served a long time.

More than two hundred men were a.s.sembled on this galley, and yet the silence of the cloister reigned through it.

If the crew remained silent through terror of the whip of the keepers and overseers, the soldiers and sailors obeyed the pious customs maintained by the commander Pierre des Anbiez.

For more than thirty years that he had commanded this galley of religion, he had tried always to preserve the same equipment, replacing only the men that he had lost.

The severity of discipline established on board Our Lady of Seven Sorrows was well known at Malta. The commander was perhaps the only one of the officers of the religion who exacted a strict observance of the rules of the order. His galley, on board of which he received only men who had been proven, became a sort of nomadic convent,--a voluntary rendezvous for all sailors who wished to a.s.sure their salvation by binding themselves scrupulously to the rigorous requirements of this hospitable and military confraternity.

It was the same with the officers and young caravan-iflits.

Those who preferred to lead a joyous and daring life--which was the immense majority--found the greater part of the captains of the religion disposed to welcome them, and to forget everything in their union against the infidels, as their mission of monk-soldiers was at the same time that of saint and warrior.

On the contrary, the very small number of young chevaliers who loved, for its own sake, this pious and austere life in the midst of great perils, sought with eagerness the opportunity to embark on the galley of the commander Pierre des Anbiez.

There nothing offended, nothing prevented their religious customs. There they could give themselves up to their holy exercises without fear of being ridiculed, or of becoming perhaps weak enough to blush for their own zeal.

The master gunner, or captain of the mast of the galley, an old sunburnt soldier, wearing a black felt jacket with a white cross, was seated in the guard-house of the prow, or rambade, of which we have spoken.

He was talking with the captain of the sailors of _Our Lady of Seven Sorrows_, whose name was Simon. The first speaker was Captain Hugues, who, with his companion, had always sailed with the Commander des Anbiez.

Captain Hugues was polishing with care a collar of steel net. Captain Simon from time to time was looking through the opening of the rambade, examining the sky and the sea, so as to prognosticate the end or the increase of the storm.

"Brother," said Hugues to Simon, "the north wind blows strong; it will be several days before we arrive at La Ciotat. Christmas will be past, and our brother commander will be grieved."

Captain Simon, before replying to his comrade, consulted the horizon again, and said, with a serious air:

"Although it is not proper for man to seek to divine the will of the Lord, I think we may hope to see the end of this tempest soon: the clouds seem not so low or so heavy. Perhaps to-morrow our ancient companion, the old watchman on Cape l'Aigle, will signal our arrival in the Gulf of La Ciotat."

"And that will be a day of joy in Maison-Forte, and to Raimond V.,"

said Captain Hugues.

"And also on board _Our Lady of Seven Sorrows_," said Captain Simon, "although joy appears here as rarely as the sun during a westerly wind."

"Look at this furbished collar," said the gunner, regarding his work with an air of satisfaction. "It is strange, Brother Simon, how blood will stick to steel. I have rubbed in vain: you can always distinguish these blackish marks on the mesh!"

"Which proves that steel loves blood as the earth loves dew," said the sailor, smiling sadly at his pleasantry.

"But do you know," said Hugues, "that it will soon be ten years since the commander received this wound in his combat with Mourad-Reis, the corsair of Algiers?" "I remember it as well, brother, as that with one blow of the battle-axe I struck down the miscreant who had almost broken his kangiar on the breast of the commander, who was fortunately defended by that coat of mail. But for that, Pierre des Anbiez would be dead."

"So he still keeps this collar, and I am going to carry it to him now."

"Stop," said the sailor, seizing the gunner by the arm, "you have chosen an unfortunate time,--the brother commander is in one of his bad days."

"How?"

"The head cook told me this morning that Father Elzear wished to enter the commander's chamber, but there was c.r.a.pe on the door."

"I understand, I understand; that sign suffices to prevent the entrance of any person in the commander's chamber before he gives the order to do so."

"Yet to-day is neither Sat.u.r.day nor the seventeenth day of the month," said Captain Hugues with a thoughtful air.

"That is true, for it is only upon the return of these days that his fits of despondency seem to overwhelm him the most," said Captain Simon.

Just at this moment a deep, hollow murmur was heard outside among the crew.

There was nothing ominous of evil in this noise; on the contrary, it was only an expression of satisfaction.

"What is that?" asked the gunner.

"Doubtless Reverend Father Elzear has just appeared on deck. At the very sight of him the slaves think their lot less miserable."

CHAPTER XXII. THE BROTHER OF MERCY

Elzear des Anbiez, brother of the sacred order, royal and military, of Our Lady of Mercy, for the redemption of captives, had in fact just appeared on the deck of the galley.

The slaves welcomed his presence with a murmur of hope and satisfaction, for he always had some word of pity for these unhappy men.

The recognised discipline of the galley was so severe, so inflexible, and of such relentless justice, that Father Elzear, notwithstanding the tender attachment which bound him to his brother, the commander, would not have dared ask the pardon of an offender. But he never spared encouragement and consolation to those who were to undergo punishment.

Father Elzear advanced with a slow step into the middle of the narrow pa.s.sage which separated the two rows of benches on the galley.

He wore the habit of his order: a long white ca.s.sock, with a mantle of the same material caught up on the shoulders. A rope girded his loins, and notwithstanding the cold, his bare feet had no other protection than leather sandals. In the middle of his breast showed the coat of arms belonging to his order, an escutcheon diapered with gold and gules, surmounted with a silver cross.

Father Elzear resembled Raimond V. His features were n.o.ble and majestic, but the fatigues and austerities of his holy, self-abnegating profession had stamped upon them an expression of constant suffering.

The top of his head was shaven, and a crown of white hair encircled his venerable brow.

His pale, emaciated face, his hollow cheeks, made his soft, serene black eyes appear larger still, and a sweet, sad smile gave an expression of adorable benevolence to his countenance.

He stooped a little in walking, as if he had contracted this habit by bending over the chained captives. His weak wrists were marked with deep and ineffaceable scars. Captured in one of the numerous voyages he made from France to Barbary for the ransom of slaves, he had been put in chains, and so cruelly treated that he bore all his life the marks of the barbarity practised by pirates.

Having been ransomed by his own family, he voluntarily went into slavery again in order to take the place in an Algerian prison of a poor inhabitant of La Ciotat, who could not pay his ransom, and whom a dying mother called to France.

In forty years he had ransomed more than three thousand slaves, either with the money of his own patrimony, or with the fruit of his collections from other Christians.

With the exception of a few months pa.s.sed, every two or three years, in the house of his brother Raimond V., Father Elzear, n.o.ble, rich, learned, with an independent fortune, which he had devoted to the ransom of slaves, had been travelling continually, either on land for the purpose of collecting alms, or on sea, on his way to deliver captives.

Sacredly vowed to this hard and pious mission, he had always refused the positions and rank that his birth, his virtues, his courage, and his angelic piety would have conferred upon him in his order.

His self-abnegation, his simplicity, which possessed an antique grandeur, struck all minds with respect and admiration.