Home Random Page


CATEGORIES:

BiologyChemistryConstructionCultureEcologyEconomyElectronicsFinanceGeographyHistoryInformaticsLawMathematicsMechanicsMedicineOtherPedagogyPhilosophyPhysicsPolicyPsychologySociologySportTourism






FATALITY

 

Meantime Milady, drunk with passion, roaring on the deck like a

lioness that has been embarked, had been tempted to throw herself

into the sea that she might regain the coast, for she could not

get rid of the thought that she had been insulted by D`Artagnan,

threatened by Athos, and that she had quit France without being

revenged on them. This idea soon became so insupportable to her

that at the risk of whatever terrible consequences might result

to herself from it, she implored the captain to put her on shore;

but the captain, eager to escape from his false position-placed

between French and English cruisers, like the bat between the

mice and the birds--was in great haste to regain England, and

positively refused to obey what he took for a woman`s caprice,

promising his passenger, who had been particularly recommended to

him by the cardinal, to land her, if the sea and the French

permitted him, at one of the ports of Brittany, either at Lorient

or Brest. But the wind was contrary, the sea bad; they tacked

and kept offshore. Nine days after leaving the Charente, pale

with fatigue and vexation, Milady saw only the blue coasts of

Finisterre appear.

 

She calculated that to cross this corner of France and return to

the cardinal it would take her at least three days. Add another

day for landing, and that would make four. Add these four to the

nine others, that would be thirteen days lost--thirteen days,

during which so many important events might pass in London. She

reflected likewise that the cardinal would be furious at her

return, and consequently would be more disposed to listen to the

complaints brought against her than to the accusations she

brought against others.

 

She allowed the vessel to pass Lorient and Brest without

repeating her request to the captain, who, on his part, took care

not to remind her of it. Milady therefore continued her voyage,

and on the very day that Planchet embarked at Portsmouth for

France, the messenger of his Eminence entered the port in

triumph.

 

All the city was agitated by an extraordinary movement. Four

large vessels, recently built, had just been launched. At the

end of the jetty, his clothes richly laced with gold, glittering,

as was customary with him, with diamonds and precious stones, his

hat ornamented with a white feather which drooped upon his

shoulder, Buckingham was seen surrounded by a staff almost as

brilliant as himself.

 

It was one of those rare and beautiful days in winter when

England remembers that there is a sun. The star of day, pale but

nevertheless still splendid, was setting in the horizon,

glorifying at once the heavens and the sea with bands of fire,

and casting upon the towers and the old houses of the city a last

ray of gold which made the windows sparkle like the reflection of

a conflagration. Breathing that sea breeze, so much more

invigorating and balsamic as the land is approached,



contemplating all the power of those preparations she was

commissioned to destroy, all the power of that army which she was

to combat alone--she, a woman with a few bags of gold--Milady

compared herself mentally to Judith, the terrible Jewess, when

she penetrated the camp of the Assyrians and beheld the enormous

mass of chariots, horses, men, and arms, which a gesture of her

hand was to dissipate like a cloud of smoke.

 

They entered the roadstead; but as they drew near in order to

cast anchor, a little cutter, looking like a coastguard

formidably armed, approached the merchant vessel and dropped into

the sea a boat which directed its course to the ladder. This

boat contained an officer, a mate, and eight rowers. The officer

alone went on board, where he was received with all the deference

inspired by the uniform.

 

The officer conversed a few instants with the captain, gave him

several papers, of which he was the bearer, to read, and upon the

order of the merchant captain the whole crew of the vessel, both

passengers and sailors, were called upon deck.

 

When this species of summons was made the officer inquired aloud

the point of the brig`s departure, its route, its landings; and

to all these questions the captain replied without difficulty and

without hesitation. Then the officer began to pass in review all

the people, one after the other, and stopping when he came to

Milady, surveyed her very closely, but without addressing a

single word to her.

 

He then returned to the captain, said a few words to him, and as

if from that moment the vessel was under his command, he ordered

a maneuver which the crew executed immediately. Then the vessel

resumed its course, still escorted by the little cutter, which

sailed side by side with it, menacing it with the mouths of its

six cannon. The boat followed in the wake of the ship, a speck

near the enormous mass.

 

During the examination of Milady by the officer, as may well be

imagined, Milady on her part was not less scrutinizing in her

glances. But however great was the power of this woman with eyes

of flame in reading the hearts of those whose secrets she wished

to divine, she met this time with a countenance of such

impassivity that no discovery followed her investigation. The

officer who had stopped in front of her and studied her with so

much care might have been twenty-five or twenty-six years of age.

He was of pale complexion, with clear blue eyes, rather deeply

set; his mouth, fine and well cut, remained motionless in its

correct lines; his chin, strongly marked, denoted that strength

of will which in the ordinary Britannic type denotes mostly

nothing but obstinacy; a brow a little receding, as is proper for

poets, enthusiasts, and soldiers, was scarcely shaded by short

thin hair which, like the beard which covered the lower part of

his face, was of a beautiful deep chestnut color.

 

When they entered the port, it was already night. The fog

increased the darkness, and formed round the sternlights and

lanterns of the jetty a circle like that which surrounds the moon

when the weather threatens to become rainy. The air they

breathed was heavy, damp, and cold.

 

Milady, that woman so courageous and firm, shivered in spite of

herself.

 

The officer desired to have Milady`s packages pointed out to him,

and ordered them to be placed in the boat. When this operation

was complete, he invited her to descend by offering her his hand.

 

Milady looked at this man, and hesitated. "Who are you, sir,"

asked she, "who has the kindness to trouble yourself so

particularly on my account?"

 

"You may perceive, madame, by my uniform, that I am an officer in

the English navy," replied the young man.

 

"But is it the custom for the officers in the English navy to

place themselves at the service of their female compatriots when

they land in a port of Great Britain, and carry their gallantry

so far as to conduct them ashore?"

 

"Yes, madame, it is the custom, not from gallantry but prudence,

that in time of war foreigners should be conducted to particular

hotels, in order that they may remain under the eye of the

government until full information can be obtained about them."

 

These words were pronounced with the most exact politeness and

the most perfect calmness. Nevertheless, they had not the power

of convincing Milady.

 

"But I am not a foreigner, sir," said she, with an accent as pure

as ever was heard between Portsmouth and Manchester; "my name is

Lady Clarik, and this measure--"

 

"This measure is general, madame; and you will seek in vain to

evade it."

 

"I will follow you, then, sir."

 

Accepting the hand of the officer, she began the descent of the

ladder, at the foot of which the boat waited. The officer

followed her. A large cloak was spread at the stern; the officer

requested her to sit down upon this cloak, and placed himself

beside her.

 

"Row!" said he to the sailors.

 

The eight oars fell at once into the sea, making but a single

sound, giving but a single stroke, and the boat seemed to fly

over the surface of the water.

 

In five minutes they gained the land.

 

The officer leaped to the pier, and offered his hand to Milady.

A carriage was in waiting.

 

"Is this carriage for us?" asked Milady.

 

"Yes, madame," replied the officer.

 

"The hotel, then, is far away?"

 

"At the other end of the town."

 

"Very well," said Milady; and she resolutely entered the

carriage.

 

The officer saw that the baggage was fastened carefully behind

the carriage; and this operation ended, he took his place beside

Milady, and shut the door.

 

Immediately, without any order being given or his place of

destination indicated, the coachman set off at a rapid pace, and

plunged into the streets of the city.

 

So strange a reception naturally gave Milady ample matter for

reflection; so seeing that the young officer did not seem at all

disposed for conversation, she reclined in her corner of the

carriage, and one after the other passed in review all the

surmises which presented themselves to her mind.

 

At the end of a quarter of an hour, however, surprised at the

length of the journey, she leaned forward toward the door to see

whither she was being conducted. Houses were no longer to be

seen; trees appeared in the darkness like great black phantoms

chasing one another. Milady shuddered.

 

"But we are no longer in the city, sir," said she.

 

The young officer preserved silence.

 

"I beg you to understand, sir, I will go no farther unless you

tell me whither you are taking me."

 

This threat brought no reply.

 

"Oh, this is too much," cried Milady. "Help! help!"

 

No voice replied to hers; the carriage continued to roll on with

rapidity; the officer seemed a statue.

 

Milady looked at the officer with one of those terrible

expressions peculiar to her countenance, and which so rarely

failed of their effect; anger made her eyes flash in the

darkness.

 

The young man remained immovable.

 

Milady tried to open the door in order to throw herself out.

 

"Take care, madame," said the young man, coolly, "you will kill

yourself in jumping."

 

Milady reseated herself, foaming. The officer leaned forward,

looked at her in his turn, and appeared surprised to see that

face, just before so beautiful, distorted with passion and almost

hideous. The artful creature at once comprehended that she was

injuring herself by allowing him thus to read her soul; she

collected her features, and in a complaining voice said: "In the

name of heaven, sir, tell me if it is to you, if it is to your

government, if it is to an enemy I am to attribute the violence

that is done me?"

 

"No violence will be offered to you, madame, and what happens to

you is the result of a very simple measure which we are obliged

to adopt with all who land in England."

 

"Then you don`t know me, sir?"

 

"It is the first time I have had the honor of seeing you."

 

"And on your honor, you have no cause of hatred against me?"

 

"None, I swear to you."

 

There was so much serenity, coolness, mildness even, in the voice

of the young man, that Milady felt reassured.

 

At length after a journey of nearly an hour, the carriage stopped

before an iron gate, which closed an avenue leading to a castle

severe in form, massive, and isolated. Then, as the wheels

rolled over a fine gravel, Milady could hear a vast roaring,

which she at once recognized as the noise of the sea dashing

against some steep cliff.

 

The carriage passed under two arched gateways, and at length

stopped in a court large, dark, and square. Almost immediately

the door of the carriage was opened, the young man sprang lightly

out and presented his hand to Milady, who leaned upon it, and in

her turn alighted with tolerable calmness.

 

"Still, then, I am a prisoner," said Milady, looking around her,

and bringing back her eyes with a most gracious smile to the

young officer; "but I feel assured it will not be for long,"

added she. "My own conscience and your politeness, sir, are the

guarantees of that."

 

However flattering this compliment, the officer made no reply;

but drawing from his belt a little silver whistle, such as

boatswains use in ships of war, he whistled three times, with

three different modulations. Immediately several men appeared,

who unharnessed the smoking horses, and put the carriage into a

coach house.

 

Then the officer, with the same calm politeness, invited his

prisoner to enter the house. She, with a still-smiling

countenance, took his arm, and passed with him under a low arched

door, which by a vaulted passage, lighted only at the farther

end, led to a stone staircase around an angle of stone. They

then came to a massive door, which after the introduction into

the lock of a key which the young man carried with him, turned

heavily upon its hinges, and disclosed the chamber destined for

Milady.

 

With a single glance the prisoner took in the apartment in its

minutest details. It was a chamber whose furniture was at once

appropriate for a prisoner or a free man; and yet bars at the

windows and outside bolts at the door decided the question in

favor of the prison.

 

In an instant all the strength of mind of this creature, though

drawn from the most vigorous sources, abandoned her; she sank

into a large easy chair, with her arms crossed, her head lowered,

and expecting every instant to see a judge enter to interrogate

her.

 

But no one entered except two or three marines, who brought her

trunks and packages, deposited them in a corner, and retired

without speaking.

 

The officer superintended all these details with the same

calmness Milady had constantly seen in him, never pronouncing a

word himself, and making himself obeyed by a gesture of his hand

or a sound of his whistle.

 

It might have been said that between this man and his inferiors

spoken language did not exist, or had become useless.

 

At length Milady could hold out no longer; she broke the silence.

"In the name of heaven, sir," cried she, "what means all that is

passing? Put an end to my doubts; I have courage enough for any

danger I can foresee, for every misfortune which I understand.

Where am I, and why am I here? If I am free, why these bars and

these doors? If I am a prisoner, what crime have I committed?"

 

"You are here in the apartment destined for you, madame. I

received orders to go and take charge of you on the sea, and to

conduct you to this castle. This order I believe I have

accomplished with all the exactness of a soldier, but also with

the courtesy of a gentleman. There terminates, at least to the

present moment, the duty I had to fulfill toward you; the rest

concerns another person."

 

"And who is that other person?" asked Milady, warmly. "Can you

not tell me his name?"

 

At the moment a great jingling of spurs was heard on the stairs.

Some voices passed and faded away, and the sound of a single

footstep approached the door.

 

"That person is here, madame," said the officer, leaving the

entrance open, and drawing himself up in an attitude of respect.

 

At the same time the door opened; a man appeared on the

threshold. He was without a hat, carried a sword, and flourished

a handkerchief in his hand.

 

Milady thought she recognized this shadow in the gloom; she

supported herself with one hand upon the arm of the chair, and

advanced her head as if to meet a certainty.

 

The stranger advanced slowly, and as he advanced, after entering

into the circle of light projected by the lamp, Milady

involuntarily drew back.

 

Then when she had no longer any doubt, she cried, in a state of

stupor, "What, my brother, is it you?"

 

"Yes, fair lady!" replied Lord de Winter, making a bow, half

courteous, half ironical; "it is I, myself."

 

"But this castle, then?"

 

"Is mine."

 

"This chamber?"

 

"Is yours."

 

"I am, then, your prisoner?"

 

"Nearly so."

 

"But this is a frightful abuse of power!"

 

"No high-sounding words! Let us sit down and chat quietly, as

brother and sister ought to do."

 

Then, turning toward the door, and seeing that the young officer

was waiting for his last orders, he said. "All is well, I thank

you; now leave us alone, Mr. Felton."

 


Date: 2015-01-29; view: 633


<== previous page | next page ==>
A FAMILY AFFAIR | CHAT BETWEEN BROTHER AND SISTER
doclecture.net - lectures - 2014-2024 year. Copyright infringement or personal data (0.019 sec.)