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| author | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-05-10 16:43:46 -0700 |
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| committer | www-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org> | 2026-05-10 16:43:46 -0700 |
| commit | dc36b3bcfbfbb2c85125cd8c717bad8b4fa97e2f (patch) | |
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diff --git a/78652-h/78652-h.htm b/78652-h/78652-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..de521e1 --- /dev/null +++ b/78652-h/78652-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,11054 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1"> + <title> + A fisher girl of France | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.tiny {width: 10%; margin-left: 45%; margin-right: 45%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; +} + +td {padding-left: 0.5em;} +.tdl {text-align: left; padding-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} +.tdr {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} +.tdc {text-align: center;} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.caption {font-weight: bold; text-align: center;} + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + +.x-ebookmaker .transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78652 ***</div> + + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_0"></span> +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/frontispiece.jpg" width="450" height="706" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE PRESSED MORE CLOSELY THE HAND OF HER LITTLE BROTHER.</p> + <p>Frontispiece.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<h1>A FISHER GIRL OF FRANCE</h1> + +<p>FROM THE FRENCH OF<br> +<span class="large">FERNAND CALMETTES</span></p> + +<p><i>WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY THE AUTHOR</i></p> + +<p>NEW YORK<br> +<span class="large">DODD, MEAD & COMPANY</span><br> +<span class="smcap">Publishers</span></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1892,<br> +BY<br> +DODD, MEAD & COMPANY.<br> +<br> +<i>All rights reserved.</i></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h2 class="nobreak">TABLE OF CONTENTS.</h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Chapter</span></td><td class="tdr"> 1</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1"> 1</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 2</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7"> 7</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 3</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17"> 17</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 4</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_27"> 27</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 5</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38"> 38</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 6</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46"> 46</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 7</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55"> 55</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 8</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66"> 66</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 9</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_74"> 74</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 10</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_85"> 85</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 11</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_93"> 93</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 12</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_102"> 102</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 13</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_109"> 109</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 14</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_119"> 119</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 15</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_129"> 129</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 16</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_138"> 138</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 17</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_148"> 148</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 18</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_157"> 157</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 19</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_165"> 165</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 20</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_172"> 172</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 21</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_180"> 180</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 22</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_195"> 195</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 23</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_205"> 205</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 24</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_216"> 216</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 25</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222"> 222</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 26</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229"> 229</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 27</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_241"> 241</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 28</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256"> 256</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 29</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265"> 265</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdc">“</td><td class="tdr"> 30</td><td>            </td><td class="tdc"> “</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_274"> 274</a></td></tr> +</table> + + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + <h2 class="nobreak">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> +</div> + + +<table> +<tr><td class="tdr" colspan="2"><span class="allsmcap">FACING PAGE</span></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Pressed More Closely the Hand of her Little Brother</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_0"> <i>Frontispiece</i></a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The “Bon-Pêcheur” Sped Gladly Northward</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12"> 12</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Jug Between His Feet</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26"> 26</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">All the Fortune of the Crew Floated with the Current</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38"> 38</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The White Night Seemed to Penetrate his Heart</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_50"> 50</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">Near Her, a Sailor Called Out</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_70"> 70</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">A Sad Return</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_84"> 84</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Saw the Little Village with the White House</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88"> 88</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Old Woman Barred the Door</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_100"> 100</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Quickened her Pace, Pressing her Heaving Chest</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_104"> 104</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">The Next Night Elise Saw her Father again</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_128"> 128</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Would See again Those she Loved</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_140"> 140</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">He was Happy Because her Confidence Had Returned</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_162"> 162</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Are You Going to Wait There until You are Dry</span>,”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_170"> 170</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Father, If You will Help I will Find You</span>,”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_192"> 192</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">He Uttered a Series of Modulated Barks</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_212"> 212</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">His Rigid Fingers Stood Out Stiffly</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_238"> 238</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl">“<span class="smcap">Calm Yourself, Elise, We Shall Make the Others Laugh</span>,”</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_252"> 252</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Had Picked Up Something to Defend Herself</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_262"> 262</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td class="tdl"><span class="smcap">She Wished to Carry Him Away</span>,</td><td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284"> 284</a></td></tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<p class="ph2"><small>A</small><br> +FISHER GIRL OF FRANCE.</p> + +<hr class="tiny"> +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER I.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">To-morrow</span> at daybreak they will go aboard +together, Elise Hénin and her little brother Firmin. +They have put on their Sunday clothes to say farewell +to their mother, who sleeps on the slope of the +dune in a corner of the old graveyard. Nine years +has the poor woman lain there in the peace of her +last sleep—deaf forever to the noise of the tempests +which roused her so often, of old, to the vigil of anxious +nights.</p> + +<p>She went from the cares of life a long time before +her husband. He was swallowed up by the sea, +which never gave back his body. One night, when +the wind was not high—one hardly knows how it +came about—he was caught in a fatal current and +was lost, with his boat and six companions, in the +wild eddies of the most dangerous shoal on that +coast. In some shelter for shipwrecked sailors, +beneath the wave, he is waiting for a day, perhaps +not distant, when a mighty tempest shall stir the +depths and, opening his prison of sand, return his +body to earth again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>His death brought ruin to his family. Although +he was a skipper, yet his boat was all he owned. +Earning more or less at the risk of the tides, he was +returning from a profitable cruise with a happy +heart and a full purse, for he had sold his fish at a +good price at the market of Boulogne. The sea had +all in its grip—man, boat, and earnings.</p> + +<p>From the road that climbed the dune one could +see the spot beneath one on the horizon. The +color of the sea was lighter there than over the +depths, and the rays of the sun made it glisten with +a silvery sheen. It seemed so smiling that one +would have declared it harmless.</p> + +<p>Elise stopped as her thoughts wandered to that +accursed gulf. She pressed more closely the hand +of her little brother, as a mother who fears for her +child’s safety.</p> + +<p>For it was she who had brought him up, this +twelve-year-old brother, whom she loves for his +sturdy figure and his robust health. She has had +one idea only, that of making him a good sailor. +It was she who sang him sailors’ songs to put him +to sleep when little; it was she who carried him, +hardly awake, along the dune crests to show him the +far-off ships and to direct his first look to what was +going on at sea. It was she, too, who took him to +the harbor that he might play among the rigging.</p> + +<p>Then, when they were old enough, they had gone +with their father on his boat, learning to handle it. +Elise knew as much about fishing as a sailor. Her +father was very proud of her. He had her always +aboard, and it was a miracle that she had not been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>lost with him. But that week she had been kept at +home, because Firmin was ill. She wished to take +care of him herself, and would not trust him to +strange hands. And so they had become orphans, +sister and brother, without protection and without +bread.</p> + +<p>But to-day their fortune seemed assured. They +had been engaged on a sloop for the coming herring +fishery. Elise had persuaded the skipper, her cousin +and godfather, to take them on his boat notwithstanding +the prejudice which sailors in petticoats +generally inspire. She was as strong as a man and +asked less wages, and this was so much in her favor.</p> + +<p>For herself it was enough that she was to be with +her brother, apart from whom she would have been +too unhappy to live.</p> + +<p>“I am proud of you,” she said gayly, “you will +make a fine ship’s boy. I was afraid to remain at +home alone. Come, make haste, we have still many +things to arrange for our departure.”</p> + +<p>And with a lengthened step she hurried the boy +along the sandy dune road. It was high noon. +The strong June sun, directly overhead, darted down +its burning rays, but the young girl did not appear +to feel them. Lithe and alert, she moved along, +with figure erect and back slightly arched, in all the +vigor of her nineteen years.</p> + +<p>Her graceful contour stood out distinctly against +the sky. It had little of that masculine strength +that marks savage beauties, but under her brown +corset and gray skirt one could divine the clear-cut +outline which distinguishes the purer races.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span>Hurrying her brother along, she soon gained the +crest of the dune; then she stopped abruptly, with +an involuntary start, for at the turn of the road she +saw before her the figure of a strapping young fellow, +his arms swinging as he walked, and his face +pale and a little sad.</p> + +<p>“You have frightened us, Silvere. It is not the +time for a stroll. Are you expecting any one?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, you, Elise. I had an idea that you would +come here, and I ventured, in order to have a last +word with you. Is it decided that you are to sail +to-morrow?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly! we have to earn our bread.”</p> + +<p>“If you would but consent, I would manage to +earn enough for us both. Elise, it breaks my heart +to see you injure yourself with men’s work.”</p> + +<p>“What would you have? I know no other, nor +have I a taste for any other.”</p> + +<p>“If you would marry me, you would have only to +keep the house. Will you make me wretched by +refusing me again?”</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I do not wish to give you pain, but it is +not right of you to urge me always against my duty. +I have told you my determination. I do not intend +to marry until the day when my little Firmin shall +be of an age to be a real sailor. It is my duty to +help him, since I am the same as his mother.”</p> + +<p>“We would aid him together.”</p> + +<p>“No, he would not be at all happy if he knew that +he was an expense to another. And then, I am +ambitious that he should become a skipper as his +father was. I could not give myself up to this if I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>married you. When one has a house one should +devote one’s self to it.”</p> + +<p>“Then you leave me no hope?”</p> + +<p>“As I have told you, wait. Give me time to +bring up the child. I will not refuse after that.”</p> + +<p>“All the same, it is a long time to wait.”</p> + +<p>Elise had not let go the hand of her brother, +which she held pressed in her own. She felt it +stirring, tugging.</p> + +<p>“What do you wish, my little man, what troubles +you?”</p> + +<p>“Bend down, I wish to whisper to you.”</p> + +<p>And his lips raised toward his sister’s ear, in a +grumbling tone the lad told his trouble. He did +not wish his sister’s marriage to be put off on his +account. He was old enough to go to sea alone. +He pressed his point with an energy one would not +have expected in a lad of his years. As he spoke +he put on a resolute air, and under his close-cut hair +his strong features expressed so vigorous a will +that Elise was much disturbed.</p> + +<p>“You are a brave boy, but you are too young to +go without me. Never mind. I shall not be unhappy +as long as we are together and you love me.”</p> + +<p>With her sweetest look she smiled at the lad, then, +turning toward Silvere, she gave him her hand.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, since our engagement is to be long, +come with me to the graveyard. Let us exchange +our vows over the grave of my mother.”</p> + +<p>And pensively, without speaking further, she +walked on, supported on one side by her lover while +on the other she led her brother.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>The graveyard was near at hand. Above its low +wall could be seen, lost among dusty tamarisks and +brambles already turning brown, some stone tombs +and some crosses of worn-out wood, tottering and +almost uprooted by the west wind. It was well +called the field of the dead, for under the pitiless +sun it seemed a desert indeed. Silvere stopped +short at the melancholy sight. With an unconscious +gesture, he held back the young girl.</p> + +<p>“Elise, do not let us plight our troth here. It is +too sad.”</p> + +<p>“Nevertheless, come. Mother will not be happy +if we fail in respect. I have no one but her to advise +me, since my father is beneath the sea.”</p> + +<p>Along the narrow footpaths she led the young +man to the highest point of the cemetery, where +there was the least shelter. There, in a forgotten +corner, a slab, defaced and broken at the corners, +alone marked the spot which the children knew to +be their mother’s resting-place.</p> + +<p>“Mother,” said Elise solemnly, “since our dead +father’s soul is no more with us, it is thy wish which +I would obey. Make thy soul pass into mine.”</p> + +<p>And on her knees beside Silvere, their two hands +joined, she waited for the mother’s blessing to penetrate +her heart.</p> + +<p>An alkaline vapor rose from the overheated soil, +and came suffocatingly to their nostrils. Silvere +had a feeling of faintness. He rose, trying to lift +Elise, but for some time still she remained at +prayer, invoking on her brother and herself the protection +of the dead.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER II.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was hardly daybreak when Elise and Firmin +appeared on the wharf, pushing before them a +wheelbarrow, on which were their sailors’ kits. +They were the first to arrive. The tide had gone +out and, aground in the mud, the sleeping boats +seemed to await in the silence of the dawn the hour +for waking. Such of them as were being made +ready for sea could be told by the marks of recent +overhauling and their newly tarred rigging. Here +lay the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, a sloop, broad in the waist but +tapering gracefully, and well-designed to cut the +waves. All was in order on deck. The closed +hatches showed that supplies were stowed away and +everything ready.</p> + +<p>Elise stopped short. From the head of the wharf, +across the masts and rigging, she could perceive the +Bay of Somme, which the sun was just softly lighting +up. Since her childhood she had known this +great clear bay, with its gray outlines softening +away into fog. She would not see it again that +night. Every day she had come faithfully to give +it a look. She loved it, not only when the tide was +high and it reflected the brightness of the heavens +in its palpitating waves, but when, though bare at +low tide, it was still beautiful, with its banks of red +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>sand and its streams of water winding through it to +the great sea.</p> + +<p>Each day she had seen on the opposite bank the +outline of the town of Saint-Valery, raised like a +fortress on a rock of verdure. Then she had turned +her happy eyes toward her own modest fishing +hamlet, which, on this side of the bay, sheltered itself +discreetly behind the sandy dunes. She would see +none of these things that night. She loved them +truly, as one loves one’s birthplace, but she loved +also the great sea which, four miles away, marked by +a crystal line, all white with foam, the limit of the +bay. Elise had often crossed that line in her father’s +boat, and during three years of fishing she had +been accustomed to sea life, but she had never +quitted the waters of the English Channel, and it +was in new seas that she was to be through the long +hard-worked months of a fishing cruise. Her breast +swelled with longing and a vague inquietude, and +she let her thoughts wander toward that infinity of +heaven and water.</p> + +<p>The sands of the bay disappeared little by little +under the rising tide, whose surface, swept by ripples, +announced a steady breeze. It was an excellent +omen. In less than six days they ought to be +on the fishing-grounds, a hundred miles north of +Scotland.</p> + +<p>But, coming back to the thought of her departure, +Elise went down from the wharf to the sands, and +deposited her burden just under the bows of the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and, while Firmin went to return the +wheelbarrow, she seated herself on her sack, her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>hands joined, her thoughts wandering to the far-distant +region with which she was to make acquaintance. +Absorbed in her revery, she did not hear +heavy steps behind her, and started under a strong +hand which struck her familiarly on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Elise, you are earlier than the tide. They are +good sailors who rise before the fish.”</p> + +<p>“Should it not be so, Cousin Florimond? One +must take trouble if one wishes to escape it.”</p> + +<p>“You are right. That is a good sailor’s rule. Do +you know, you look very well under your new sou’wester? +The keenest eye could hardly tell you +from the other sailor lads.”</p> + +<p>“I will be a man when work is to be done, Cousin +Florimond. I have no fear of work.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Parbleu!</i> All will turn out well if your Firmin +does not show himself obstinate. He is a little +inclined that way. He does not always do as one +tells him.”</p> + +<p>“Have no fear, Cousin Florimond, he will obey +you as willingly as his father. Surely, that is one’s +duty to the skipper.”</p> + +<p>“Surely. Besides I shall not favor him more +than any other. Fishing is hard work, but it makes +good sailors. In three seasons he will understand +his business. Then you will be able to leave him +alone and talk of a husband. A husband is never +lacking to a worthy girl.”</p> + +<p>Then, with that rolling step which sailors affect so +much on land, the skipper walked to the boat’s +stern. He seemed to step with the whole weight of +his body upon the ground, but hardly had he felt the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>guards of the sloop under his hand than he recovered +his agility, notwithstanding his great leather boots +and his oil-suit. Taking advantage of the rudder-post +and of the sloping side of the boat, in three +tugs of his arms, and four steps, he hoisted himself +on deck. And there, striding about, he was truly +superb with his tall figure, his broad shoulders, his +curving chest, his strong arms, and his sturdy back. +The sailor is beautiful only on his boat.</p> + +<p>At that moment Florimond had the bearing +which inspires all leaders at the hour of action. He +inhaled long draughts of the breeze, and with keen +eye he examined the sky to see the signs of the +weather.</p> + +<p>“Look then, Elise, the weather seems not half +bad. One never lies idle when one works with the +breeze. Hand over the sacks.” He stretched his +arm out to receive them, and then, lying down flat, +reached down, seized the girl with both hands and, +raising himself all at once, lifted her on deck.</p> + +<p>“Now you are one of the crew, Elise. If the +others are disagreeable, I will protect you. Every +man has his rights on a boat.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Cousin Florimond, but, as long as I do +my work without flinching, they will have no reason +to speak ill of me. If they are disagreeable, I will +defend myself.”</p> + +<p>“Shall not I be there to make them hold their +tongues?” said a little voice, behind the young girl, +a boy’s voice, bold and confident. It was Firmin, +who had returned. He planted himself, with his arms +crossed and his head thrown back, before his sister.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>“There is one man who talks against us. I have +heard him! I will make him eat his words.”</p> + +<p>And as if to defy the enemy he awaited, he looked +resolutely at the hamlet.</p> + +<p>From it the sailors were coming in a body, their +wives and children with them. They walked silently +beside a cart, which made its way slowly under the +weight of their kits. When they reached the boat, +there broke out at once the noise of getting aboard +and the shouts of farewell. For the tide was beginning +to lick the keel of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and the +women and children ran for safety to the wharf +where, crowded together, they awaited her departure. +Softly the sea lifted the sloop, which floated +like a sea-gull on the wave.</p> + +<p>“Hoist the jib and the stay-sail. Hoist the jigger.” +And the canvas, forward and aft, spread itself +as if to try the breeze.</p> + +<p>“Trip the anchor!” And the chain, as the anchor +came home, ground against the gunwale.</p> + +<p>“Hoist the main-sail!” Two hundred and twenty +yards of canvas rose in air by force of hand. All +tugged together, Elise among the rest. Knowing +that she was watched she strained every nerve; her +body grew rigid at the work. “Oh! hiss!” Her +voice sounded clear above the hoarse shouts of her +companions. “Oh! hiss!” The pulleys groaned +under the ropes, and the great sail hung ready to +take the wind.</p> + +<p>“Give her a full.” The top-sails snapped out. +All the canvas was trimmed to catch the breeze, and, +set in motion by a shift of the helm, the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>sped gayly northward in the freshness and purity of +the morning.</p> + +<p>But a small boat hailed them. A rope was +thrown, and Silvere, climbing up it, quickly reached +the deck. He walked straight to the skipper, and in +a rough tone explained the reason of his coming. +He had an account to settle with Barnabé.</p> + +<p>Barnabé was called. He was a hap-hazard sailor, +half landsman half seaman, such as are engaged for +the herring fishery.</p> + +<p>An unruly wag and a great bungler at work, he +had not his equal in gathering a crew about him to +listen to his bluster. He was brave when occasion +called for it, through vanity, and he had acquired +the reputation among the fishermen of a man who +feared nothing. Although his character was known, +he was engaged from force of habit. When one has +to choose among landsmen, one man is as good as +another.</p> + +<p>His quarrelsome tongue spared no one. Scarcely +had he learned of Elise’s engagement than he began +to trouble the whole village with his threats. Was +it right to allow women to steal men’s work? +Theirs would be strong arms to handle the canvas in +the teeth of a squall! And the night before, in an +outburst of drunken speech, he had made threats. +They would see if he would allow his bread to be +eaten by this Lison. He would rather send her +head-first overboard.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_012a.jpg" width="450" height="701" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">THE “BON PÊCHEUR” SPED GAYLY NORTHWARD.</p> + <p>Chap. 2.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>As soon as he was awake that morning Silvere +had heard these threats, and, changed as they were +in passing from mouth to mouth, they alarmed him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>greatly. His character was sweet and thoughtful; +he had thus a tendency to exaggerate the worst +side of things, and, lost in fear for Elise, he had run +to the pier, but too late. Then he had thrown himself +into his boat, urging it on in order to overtake +the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> and prevent trouble. Like all +gentle men, he had over-excited himself that he +might appear more strong. When he saw himself +face to face with Barnabé, he raised his voice, to +intimidate him.</p> + +<p>“You were talking of Elise last night. If you +dare to trouble her, I will make an end of you when +you return.”</p> + +<p>“Where do you get a right to defend her? Is she +your wife? She is not in love with you, I fancy, +you old tub with gaping seams.”</p> + +<p>“I speak, because we are betrothed.”</p> + +<p>“She has promised herself to you, you great +snuffer of the moon? She has, then, a fancy for +sallow men only.”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, great blackguard, or I will take down +your conceit.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t try it, I have my stingers to defend me.”</p> + +<p>And Barnabé showed his fists doubled up for +attack. Small, but thickset and muscular in proportion, +he squared himself on his short legs before the +tall man who stood before him, taken aback by his +uncertain movements.</p> + +<p>A fight appeared imminent. The deck was +nearly deserted, the greater part of the crew busying +themselves in arranging their effects in the +forecastle. Two men stationed in the bow took no +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>notice, busy as they were in managing the jib, while +astern, the sailor at the jigger, while he handled his +sheet, looked on and laughed like an amateur of fisticuffs. +He seemed truly happy at this unexpected +exhibition which was coming off so near him. As +to the skipper, not being able to leave the tiller, he +swore and threatened; then, despairing of silencing +the adversaries, he tried to drown their voices, and +shouted his orders at his loudest.</p> + +<p>“Ready to come about. Let go the jib-sheet.”</p> + +<p>And the boat tacked, drawing away at right +angles to avoid a perilous set of the current; but all +the same the quarrel continued, more clamorous and +more deafening.</p> + +<p>“Great child of misery, sailor by sufferance, you +gape in the seams. You should be careened and +calked.”</p> + +<p>“Wretched landlubber, ship’s cook, you should +remain in your pantry. The fish which has gone +ashore is spoiled for the sea.”</p> + +<p>“Speak for yourself, you badly salted codfish.”</p> + +<p>“Wretched worm.”</p> + +<p>In vain the skipper shouted: “Keep away to starboard.” +The men no longer heard him, and the jib, +remaining as it was, forced the boat in an exasperating +fashion to port. The skipper broke out in +fury, stamping excitedly, and leaning forward +shouted:</p> + +<p>“Enough, Silvere, I cannot steer the boat. We +are at the harbor bar.”</p> + +<p>His shouts mingled with those of the sailor astern, +who was urging Barnabé on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span>“Hou! Hou! Little one, take a reef in the big +fellow’s sail! He is going to run. Overhaul him +amidships.”</p> + +<p>Barnabé, as if obeying these suggestions, +squared himself like an athlete throwing out his +defiance.</p> + +<p>“Come alongside a little, old wreck. Look out +for the grapnels.”</p> + +<p>“I am not afraid of you, you are like a fish, strong +in the head only.”</p> + +<p>And among these clamors the useless calls of the +skipper:</p> + +<p>“Quiet there! Thunder! We are sagging off a +point. We shall strike. Starboard!”</p> + +<p>But his orders did not reach the bow, so thoroughly +were they cut off by the torrent of angry +words which came clamoring forth like the noise of +a tempest. And above all this tumult could be +heard the voice of the sailor astern:</p> + +<p>“Hou! Hou! Little one, overhaul the big +fellow amidships! He is too tall-masted, he will be +weak in squalls. Capsize him; turn him keel upward.”</p> + +<p>Barnabé advanced with his fists thrust forward. +But in an instant Silvere’s great hands came down +upon him, sent him rolling over and over even to +where the sailor stood, picked him up again like a +beaten dog, and, holding him over the boat’s side, +shook him above the yawning abyss beneath.</p> + +<p>“Let go,” bawled the sailor at the jigger, laughing +uproariously; “let go; he is fat enough to float +alone.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>Silvere still kept shaking him.</p> + +<p>“Barnabé, swear never to do any harm to Elise. +Swear, or I will drop you.” And his two hands +tightened their grip.</p> + +<p>Barnabé uttered a cry like that of a wounded +beast—a cry which cut the air with its shrillness. +From the forecastle came hurrying all the sailors, +snatched from their work by this despairing appeal. +Elise was foremost. She took in the situation at a +glance; rushing to the guards she caught hold of +Barnabé, and with a half turn of her arm threw him +on the deck at the skipper’s feet.</p> + +<p>But at the same instant without a shock, gently, +like a porpoise as he rises, the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> lay over +on her side.</p> + +<p>“Aground! Thunder!” and the skipper’s shout +went like a shiver through the crew. The pressure +of the wind on the sails pressed the keel still further +into the sand. “Let go all!” And in an instant +every sail was flapping, and the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> lay +still, lying well over, a sight at once laughable and +pitiable, like a stranded whale.</p> + +<p>Then, indeed, there were outbursts of rage on the +deck. Silvere and Barnabé were threatened. Elise +was accused. It was her fault. Was not the skipper +forewarned? Women are always the cause of +trouble. And Florimond thought to himself that +perhaps the sailors were right.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER III.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Then</span> followed a tedious waiting.</p> + +<p>At first thought, the situation did not appear very +serious. If the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> could not get off unassisted, +she could easily be drawn into deep water by +a few turns of the wheels of a tug. By good fortune +the bar on which she had stranded was so hard +that there was no fear of those shifting sands, which, +now washed away, now washed back again, end by +piling themselves up about a boat and holding her +fast in their clutch.</p> + +<p>In still days one could have slept there a year +through without running more danger than in one’s +bed; but the Southern sky did not promise settled +weather. There was a look that betokened the +presence of wind, and, if it should rise, it would bring +on a heavy swell in a quarter of an hour, and in that +case the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> would be rolled about like a +cask.</p> + +<p>Silvere had gone off in his boat, charged to take +the necessary steps to summon a tug from the nearest +point possible. It was early morning when he +left. They had watched him until he had reached +the wharf, and then, from the numbers crowded +together on the end of the quay, could tell that the +alarm had been given. But now night was approaching. +Time enough had passed to account +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>for any ordinary delays, and the men of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, +standing about on the deck, watched the +sea anxiously.</p> + +<p>Florimond was the most impatient of all. Climbing +on the gunwale he searched the horizon with his +glass. Steamers passed and repassed, staining the +sky with their train of smoke, but all held an unchanged +course, far away from the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. +Not one of them looked like a tug, with its gray hull +and red band.</p> + +<p>At the same time the threatened wind from the +south began to rise, and with it came a heavy and +laboring swell. Florimond could not contain himself +longer. He strode from bow to stern, distracted +between the coming danger and the belated +succor.</p> + +<p>Seated at the foot of the mast, Elise abandoned +herself to melancholy thoughts. Although in no +way responsible for their running aground, she felt +after all an indirect responsibility. It was a +wretched beginning of a sailor’s life for her.</p> + +<p>She had her arm about Firmin and the two, sister +and brother, in their attitude of distress, seemed like +shipwrecked mariners. When he cast his eye on +them in his restless walk about the deck, Florimond, +thinking of the sloop perhaps lost, and of the ruin +which he laid at their doors, gave them a surly look +of disapprobation. And all the crew, sharing the +skipper’s feeling, contemptuously left them alone.</p> + +<p>Barnabé was triumphant. He went among the +men, exciting them against Elise. Why should +they not demand at once that this creature of ill-luck +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>be put ashore. Her nets should be kept to +make good the injury of which she had been the +cause. As he talked, he turned toward Elise with +threatening gestures.</p> + +<p>Firmin could not keep down his anger. He freed +himself from his sister’s arm and advanced, his little +fist clenched.</p> + +<p>“Have you not had enough, Barnabé? I will +give you as much more as you wish.”</p> + +<p>But the landsman knew this time that he was +backed by the others. He would risk his revenge. +With foot and hand he sent the child reeling heavily +against the bulwark. There was a hard dull thud as +he struck. Elise sprang to her feet, and ran to her +brother’s help. It was the signal for an outburst. +The men, mad with anxiety, were by this time ready +for anything. They came headlong at Barnabé’s +cry.</p> + +<p>“Let us make an end of this Lison! She eats our +bread! She sends her lover to shipwreck us! +Overboard with her!”</p> + +<p>And losing their heads at his outcries, full of +desire for vengeance, without stopping to think, the +sailors closed around their victim, each man involuntarily +stretching out his arms to seize her. On +her knees, bent forward, Elise hid her pale face +between her arms, while she covered Firmin with her +body. Then she closed her eyes, to escape the sight +at least of death. Her fingers dug themselves into +her blouse. She felt herself dragged, then lifted up +and carried along; she had a feeling of space, a fear +of the yawning gulf. Resigned, without hate and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>without bitterness, she gave way to her distress and +murmured:</p> + +<p>“Farewell, dear Firmin, I am going to our father!”</p> + +<p>Suddenly she felt herself falling. She struck on +the boat’s edge, then, half stunned, fell headlong into +the sea. Entangled in the folds of her oilskin dress, +she struck out blindly like a drowning cat. It +seemed to her as if a gulf opened beneath her, and +that brutal laughter and jeering outburst from overhead +sought her out and followed her, even under +the wave. Her ears hummed, her eyes opened despairingly, +the water in her throat strangled her. +Then, vaguely, came a supreme desire to live; she +was in a last revolt at this wrong of destiny, which +forced her to die before her time, and splashing +unconsciously, she came to the surface again. It +was for an instant only, merely time to draw one +more breath of air and life. Then, and this time +without hope and nearly without consciousness, she +sank under her own weight.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>What freshness! what peace! Her temples beat +less strongly, and her chest rose and fell quietly, as +her breath came and went. Who, then, had seized +her and snatched her from nothingness? All her +senses came to life again. What was this? Oaths +and bad language! <i>Tonnerre!</i> School of sharks! +Pirates!</p> + +<p>She opened her eyes. She was on the deck, and +bending over her a young blond sailor, with eyes +like the gray of the skies, and with a pleasant voice, +watched her with a respectful admiration.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>“Mam’selle Elise, it is I, Chrétien; do you recognize +me? The rascals would have drowned you, like +a fly in a great cup. I was just in time to save you.”</p> + +<p>“Sharks! Pirates!” Then Elise saw Florimond, +armed with a grapnel, striking right and left among +the sailors. Near her, by the side of the unconscious +Firmin, she discovered Barnabé stretched +senseless, his forehead slashed with blood.</p> + +<p>“Firmin, my child!”</p> + +<p>At that instant, at a sinister whistling in the rigging, +there was a sudden outburst.</p> + +<p>“The wind! It is coming to destroy us!”</p> + +<p>Elise raised herself. Tottering still, she kept her +feet by a strong effort of will. With an uncertain +step she reached Firmin, collected all her energies, +and, finding her strength come back as she put it to +the test, raised the boy in her arms and carried him +to the forecastle. There she put him into a bunk, +covered him warmly, and tucked him in well. +Then, dripping still, without waiting to put on dry +clothes, without taking breath even, she hurried +back, to be ready for anything in facing this new +assault of death.</p> + +<p>A great wave was advancing at frightful speed, +threatening to engulf the sloop under its mass. Its +crest, white with spray, was hardly a hundred fathoms +away. The sailors ran to and fro, arms in air +like crazy men, except Florimond, who, counting +only on the jigger, held himself ready.</p> + +<p>“A man to the helm! Keep to starboard!”</p> + +<p>Whoever took the tiller would meet all the force +of the wave. What of that! Elise ran forward.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>“No, not the girl! <i>Tonnerre!</i> She is too weak +in the arms.”</p> + +<p>But the wave was now not more than twenty +fathoms away. There was no time for hesitation. +Elise stayed at her post.</p> + +<p>“Hold hard! <i>Tonnerre!</i>”</p> + +<p>The sailors clung desperately to the ropes. The +wave broke over them.</p> + +<p>“Courage, Lison, port, port! <i>Tonnerre!</i>”</p> + +<p>With all the strength of her muscles, with all her +might and main, Elise threw her weight on the +tiller. The sloop careened in a mad plunge, as if she +was lying down to die. The masts almost touched +the water. Everything rolled about the deck, the +flying rigging, the ropes, and the body of Barnabé. +The men were up to their waists in water. Elise +kept her footing. Then a new uproar! Everything +again afloat! The sloop righted, careened, plunged! +A blow harder than any yet drove her forward. As +she righted, she lay on an even keel. She was +afloat. “Hoist all sail!” As if giddy with joy, +swept onward in safety by the wind, the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +darted forward, forgetting all past dangers.</p> + +<p>Proud of her flowing sail she was off, weathering +buoys and beacons, coming about according to the +currents. She had such a frenzy of speed that she +hardly saw the tug, which was soon far astern. It +came too late with its gray hull and red band, and +see-sawing on its paddles, kept on its course to find +the wreck that was a wreck no longer.</p> + +<p>And presently, the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, having passed all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span>present danger, ran northward before the wind +under full sail.</p> + +<p>Behind her the Bay of Somme was no more than +a white speck. The dunes of St. Quentin and those +of Berck melted into a blue line. The heights of +Etaples and the cliffs of Boulogne appeared and +disappeared in their turn, then the sands of Gris-Nez +and then—nothing more, nothing but the sea +which, now lighted by the rays of the setting sun, +soon grew dark under the shadows of night.</p> + +<p>When she saw the Channel behind them and danger +at end, Elise left the tiller to return to the forecastle, +where she could be with Firmin. The boy +had recovered consciousness. He had no wound. +The shock of the blow alone had upset him.</p> + +<p>If a sailor has a little fever, he is badly off in his +close and ill-ventilated quarters under deck. They +are but one great room, occupied in common. Eating, +drinking, and cooking go on there, and roundabout +gape the sleeping bunks. There is no air. +Daylight comes only through the opening to the +deck. The hatch serves at once as a door and a +window. When the weather is bad it must be +closed, and nothing can be worse than the air in that +confined little place. It is flavored with fish chowder, +soiled clothes, grilled onions, and tobacco +smoke. Seated about on their chests, some of the +sailors manage their potato soup and fish between +two whiffs of a pipe, while, in the bunks, those who +have the next watch are sleeping two by two.</p> + +<p>Ordinarily at this time, one hears nothing but the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>noise of eating and the snoring of the sleepers. +When he is not working the sailor is little of a +talker. But on this night, at each roll, a groan broke +the half silence. It came from Barnabé, who had +been picked up half dead, and put in the last bunk, +to get well or die, as his lot might be.</p> + +<p>Never be ill on a fishing-boat. A plank without +mattress or coverings makes a hard bed. Sailors +have kind hearts, but it is a matter of pride with +them to appear insensible to suffering of their own +or of others. And for the dolorous moans of a +wounded man they have no more ears than for the +lamentations of an old woman. It is a tradition +among them that a man should die without making +a noise.</p> + +<p>Elise felt otherwise. She was a woman, and, +though fate had made her take up a man’s work, +she was born, like other women, to nurse and to heal. +She was stirred to the bottom of her heart at each +wail of the wounded man, whose condition she +could imagine. They had slipped the unhappy +wretch, without giving him further attention, into a +bunk in which ordinarily two men slept together to +keep each other warm, and there he rolled about at +the caprice of the waves. The blow of the grapnel, +which the skipper had dealt him, had laid his forehead +open, and the pitching of the sloop kept his +wound raw by grinding it against the plank.</p> + +<p>Twenty times had Elise wished to run to his help, +but Firmin’s hand was in hers, and he held her fast +at every attempt.</p> + +<p>“You are not kind, Firmin. I will not be gone +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span>long. You are molly-coddled. You have only to +go to sleep. It is Barnabé’s turn to be helped.”</p> + +<p>“No, he has been too hateful to you. Your helping +him will not prevent his making you wretched.”</p> + +<p>But a rougher blow made the boat shake, and a +more heartrending wail came from the last bunk. +Elise freed her hand.</p> + +<p>“Let me go, Firmin, I do not love you when you +are selfish.”</p> + +<p>She went directly to the bunk where Barnabé lay +groaning. Nothing could be seen in that dark hole. +She called for help. It was Chrétien who came—Chrétien, +the young blond with the pleasant voice.</p> + +<p>“Hurry, Mam’selle Elise. It will be your watch +soon, and you have not slept.”</p> + +<p>“One should think of the sick before one’s self.”</p> + +<p>“If you will let me, I will take your watch. A +man runs less risk.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Chrétien, I am not afraid of the fatigue, +but I will change my watch with you from necessity. +I can be useful here. Bring a light quickly.”</p> + +<p>Chrétien lighted a candle stuck in the neck of a +bottle. By its gleam Elise made out the wounded +man, who was rolling from side to side, his mouth +open, his lips dry.</p> + +<p>Without loss of time she set to work, heart and +soul. Going to the bunk, she mopped up the blood +from the boards, and hurried for her bags and +bundles, which she brought to wedge Barnabé in. +She improvised compresses, and made a bandage +and put it on. Then she took the largest bowl, +filled it with warm water and rum, and carefully +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>lifted it to the wounded man’s mouth. At the +refreshing odor he opened his eyes, sought the drink +with eager lips and, his thirst quenched, fell back, +throwing at Elise a long look of recognition.</p> + +<p>At the same moment came whistling through the +hatch a blast of fresh air, which whirled about the +heavy vapors of the place and, passing over the candles, +put them out, one after another.</p> + +<p>“It is pleasant down here, my lads. On deck a +wind to skin the devil.”</p> + +<p>And notwithstanding the darkness, Florimond, +from old acquaintance with the place, went from +bunk to bunk to wake the men of the next watch.</p> + +<p>“Come! Time for the relief. It is the others’ +turn for the chowder.”</p> + +<p>The men shook themselves and stretched their +legs. When they had groped about and found their +oilskin hats, they made their way among the boxes, +and went out through a new inrush of fresh air.</p> + +<p>The others came from the deck to take their +places. The hatch was shut again, the candles +lighted, and Florimond, seeing Elise, clapped her +roughly on the shoulder.</p> + +<p>“You are a fine sailor! Without the help of us +both, the sloop would have wallowed like a dead +whale. They did not despise you then, those fellows. +It was an ugly moment, all the same.”</p> + +<p>And without further words, happy in the assurance of +duty done and a dinner earned, Florimond +sat himself down on the chest by the side of Elise, +the jug of cider between his feet and the foaming +bowl on his knees. Soup tastes better when it has +been well earned.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_026a.jpg" width="450" height="702" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">THE JUG BETWEEN HIS FEET AND THE FOAMING BOWL + ON HIS KNEES.</p> + <p>Chap. 3.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IV.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Everywhere</span> the sea, but not everywhere fish. +During the five days that they had been on the +grounds, a hundred land miles north of Scotland, the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> had spread her nets in vain. She had +cast them to right and left, she had followed up +boats which were on the grounds before her, but in +whatever place, at whatever depth they were +stretched, they had caught nothing but the worthless +white-nose herring, who travel in small companies.</p> + +<p>It was the black noses that they were after. +They are the true travellers. There are millions in +a single school.</p> + +<p>The herring often reveals his presence by his +peculiar odor, by his oily trail, and by his peeping +and chirping, for he makes a noise like that of rain +falling on water. The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> had neither seen +nor heard anything.</p> + +<p>Florimond was in despair. He kept the men +putting out and taking in the nets without cessation. +On a stretch many thousand feet long they would +take nothing but a hundred white noses; those bony +troublers of the nets who were not worth salting. +The men became unreasonable, and showed their +disappointment by their negligence and by their +carelessness at work. They wished to go further +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>north. Perhaps the fish were belated. It would be +better to go to meet them than to wait.</p> + +<p>Florimond would not yield. They were in the +latitude where the herring showed themselves every +year at this time. They would see them if they +kept a sharp lookout. The men were not convinced, +and the longer their search proved useless, +the less hesitation had they in showing their discontent.</p> + +<p>Elise, on the other hand, displayed great zeal in +backing Florimond in this fight against bad luck. +She won in this way the ill-will of the crew, who +accused her, without ceasing, of flattering the skipper +and encouraging him in his obstinacy. First +and foremost with her was duty. She would never +allow Firmin to hesitate to obey an order. Often +when she found him dilatory, or kicking at the sailors’ +taunts, she would coax him back to obedience +and good humor, two things which a sailor should +never lack.</p> + +<p>When she had a chance, she looked after Barnabé. +At first she had taken the time from sleep to watch +him. When she was not free herself, when she +was on duty, she sent Firmin to see if the wounded +man needed drink or to have his wound dressed.</p> + +<p>The lad, less forgetful of injuries, lent himself +with a bad grace to these generous actions. Elise +scolded him, and tried to punish him by a severe +look, but she was quickly disarmed before his square +face, which took on a comic pretence of being +frightened at her reproof.</p> + +<p>In fact, without Elise, Barnabé would have died +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>of neglect. In his overworked life the sailor cannot +take care of his fellows, since he has all he can do to +find time for eating and sleeping. But as Florimond +said, women know how to spin out the time, +and for Elise the moments seemed to stop short, so +much care did she give him and so heartily.</p> + +<p>Barnabé knew what it cost her, for thanks to her +and his strong constitution he was nearly well. He +had not yet been on deck, but was about the forecastle, +which he filled with his sonorous voice. +When his companions came in be seized on them +and called them to witness the merits of Elise. +He praised her with the same violence with which +he had slandered her, never failing to exclaim that +she was worth the whole crew, skipper included. +He had heard them tell how she had taken the helm +when they were aground, and he did not hesitate to +declare to every one that without her they would +have been biting the sands at the bottom of the sea.</p> + +<p>He said so much and said it so noisily, this brawling +Barnabé, that Florimond became impatient of +hearing it, and was offended at seeing his authority +as skipper weighed in the balance against the prestige +of a young girl. They would be saying next +that Elise alone had saved the boat. Child as she +was, would she have been able to withstand such a +blow had he not softened the shock by his play of +the jigger-sail, at the risk of being carried away with +the canvas?</p> + +<p>He would not acknowledge it to himself, but he +was jealous at witnessing this growing reputation of +a stranger on his own boat. He took care that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span>Elise should not be on duty when there was a +chance for her to show her courage or strength. +He affected to consider her a weak and feeble creature, +in order to belittle her in her standing as a sailor. +He spoke to her in a tone of fatherly consideration.</p> + +<p>“You do not sulk over the work, Lise, but you +have not strength for it. It is not to be expected +that you should. It would be unreasonable to +demand as much work from you as from the +others.”</p> + +<p>“But, Cousin Florimond, do I not work hard +enough? I try to let no one see a difference.”</p> + +<p>“I do not say no, but a strong arm cannot be had +by wishing. A woman has never a man’s strength.”</p> + +<p>Elise revolted against this undeserved censure. +She turned pale and the tears rushed to her eyes, +but she held them back that no one might see her +trouble.</p> + +<p>“Do you think I have been a failure through lack +of strength, cousin? What will become of me, if +you do not stand my friend?”</p> + +<p>Florimond was a better man than appearances +made him out. He had the highest opinion of +Elise, but he did not wish it to be seen by the crew, +and, embarrassed at his own injustice, he broke off +his talk abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Come, Lise! Talking is not everything, we +must work. The nets must be set, it is the slack of +the tide.”</p> + +<p>The quarter of an hour of rest which the sea takes +at the changing of the tide comes, in that open sea, +two hours after it comes on the coast. It is the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span>best time for fishing, for there is no movement of +the water, nothing to sweep the fish from the net.</p> + +<p>The almanac announced the slack for that morning +at nine o’clock. It was then six. It was high +time to begin their preparations.</p> + +<p>The soundings showed conditions that the herring +fancy; forty fathoms of water over a bed of +gravel. The breeze was favorable. Though very +light, it had kept up fairly fresh since the last squall. +The sea was not quite smooth, and yet had not +enough swell to trouble the fish. It was after the +full moon and, according to all signs, the fish ought +to swim high.</p> + +<p>Florimond took a sharp look at the weather and, +having taken counsel of his experience, gave out his +orders with the full force of his lungs.</p> + +<p>“Come then, my lads, all on deck. Get the floats +ready.”</p> + +<p>These floats are barrels to which the net is fastened +when it is set. Around the middle of each +are some ten turns of rope of a fathom’s length +each, and this is let out or taken up according as it +is desired that the net shall lie high or low in the +sea to intercept the fish. Overhauling the floats is +the first thing to be done. They are brought from +where they are stored, their ropes are arranged at +the proper length, and they are piled up on deck to +be at hand the moment they are needed.</p> + +<p>But one would have said that the skipper had not +been heard. Elise alone stepped forward. All the +other hands stayed in the forecastle, silent and +motionless, as if they were obeying a command.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>Nevertheless the hatch was half open, and there +was nothing to prevent his voice reaching those for +whom it was meant. Florimond repeated his order +in a rough tone. He was not more successful than +before. Then he ran to the hatch, and with a blow +of his foot forced it wide open. Bending over the +gaping hole, and making a trumpet of his two +hands, he shouted with all the strength of his lungs:</p> + +<p>“Do you hear me, deaf ears? All on deck! Get +the floats out!”</p> + +<p>His shout resounded menacingly; the boarding +of the forecastle vibrated; but the men did not +move.</p> + +<p>“Have a care! I am going for a marline-spike; I +will warm your legs, if you are frozen there! Have +a care! <i>Tonnerre!</i>”</p> + +<p>Then there was a movement in the place, a noise +of words rapidly interchanged in a low tone, and of +steps coming from all sides. One by one, silently, +mechanically, as if moved by the same thought, the +men climbed the hatchway ladder and massed themselves +on the deck, firm, resolute, all crying at the +same time:</p> + +<p>“There is no use in fishing here any longer. You +are making us lose the season. We wish to go +north.”</p> + +<p>Florimond was not the man to allow himself to +be intimidated, young as he was. He was barely +twenty-five, but he overawed them all by his tall +figure and his powerful bearing. He had been a +sailor since his earliest youth. He had a trained +eye and sound judgment on everything connected +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>with the sea. He had the reputation of being one +of the best skippers on their coast, and proud of his +standing, no threats could make him flinch before a +sailor. The men knew him well, and knew that he +could hold his own alone against a dozen of them. +He looked them over from head to foot, and said +haughtily:</p> + +<p>“You know the orders; get the floats ready. +Two fathoms of rope.”</p> + +<p>“No, we will not set the nets, unless further +north.”</p> + +<p>“<i>Tonnerre!</i> Get the floats, or I will take you +back to port. There you can explain your reasons +to the Commissaire of Marines.”</p> + +<p>The sailors looked at one another. Chrétien, the +most timid, began to hesitate. The others seized +him and forced him back into the ranks.</p> + +<p>“We will duck you, if you turn traitor.”</p> + +<p>Elise stepped toward him.</p> + +<p>“Come, Chrétien. A sailor’s ear should hear the +captain’s orders.”</p> + +<p>He seemed bewildered. He wavered, and his +glance went from his comrades to Florimond, as if +demanding direction or counsel. All at once he +shook his shoulders, stuck out his elbows, and +throwing off the hands that tried to hold him back, +ran forward to obey.</p> + +<p>For some time Elise had been looking for Firmin. +She saw him at last, sheltered behind a group of big +fellows, and divined by his frowning brow and his +fixed glance that he was in sympathy with the +mutinous steps of his companions. With a bound +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>she was at his side. She took him by the shoulder +and drew him away with a movement of maternal +authority, at the same time vigorous and wheedling. +But the little man was intoxicated by the air of +insubordination which was about the deck. He +struggled with all the freedom of his obstinate soul, +for he did not wish any one to think him a coward. +When a man is one of a crew he should share with +them all that comes, good and bad alike.</p> + +<p>Elise saw his frowns. And, though he was so +amusing, in his determination to mutiny, she was +troubled. She picked him up in her arms, and, +pressing him to her breast to prevent his striking +her, stemmed his cries, as they came from his +mouth, with a kiss. Then she carried him to the +very stern of the boat, where Chrétien was waiting.</p> + +<p>“Oh, the traitors!” cried the sailors.</p> + +<p>But, disconcerted by these gaps in their ranks, +they broke apart and grumblingly set to work.</p> + +<p>Florimond instantly recovered his paternal ways.</p> + +<p>“I know that you are more wrinkled outside than +in. Your hearts are good, if your faces are bad. +Down with the jib. Furl the jigger-sail.”</p> + +<p>At a stroke, in the bows and at the stern, the sails +were reefed to give room for work. The time had +come to get the nets in shape.</p> + +<p>The nets are great strips of meshes fastened +together in such a way as to extend without end. +A thick, strong hawser stretches their whole length, +to which they are tied and by which they are lifted. +Thus made fast they drop into the sea like a great +partition, or rather like an open-work barrier across +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>the way, whose meshes are large or small according +to the fish they are intended to catch. They let +him pass half way through, holding him at the +swelling of the belly. If he tries to back out, his +scales hold him fast. Try as he may to free himself, +the fish in the net is a prisoner.</p> + +<p>And this wall of netting can be stretched for a +league. It is left in the sea a longer or shorter time, +according to the weather. As the breeze was soft +and the sea smooth, the skipper wished to take +advantage of the calm to try every chance. He +ordered that all the nets should be set. It was a +fortune which he was trusting to the sea.</p> + +<p>“Come, my lads,” he cried, “this time I have an +idea that we shall not pull them up empty.”</p> + +<p>The day came out warm. At this season, by this +hour in the morning, the sun is already high. Its +rays beat as hardly as at noon. A heavy atmosphere +weighed on men and things. The work +seemed particularly fatiguing to the sailors on the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. Setting the nets is, besides, at all +times, a long and fatiguing task, which keeps the +men working breathlessly for two hours. The boat +moves at the speed of a knot and a half, and the +nets must be all ready to be thrown over as she +goes.</p> + +<p>A part of the crew is stationed at the stern, and +each man has his special task. Three or four of +them draw out the nets from where they are stored, +passing them from hand to hand to untangle them, +and to clear, where they occur along their length +at short distances, the cords which fasten them to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>the hawser. Thus disentangled the nets are carried +to the boatswain, who is the soul of the work.</p> + +<p>He has no time to amuse himself—the boatswain. +While the nets are drawn by him on the right, the +hawser, unrolled on his left, is drawn by a cabin boy, +and to this he ties the cords as fast as they appear.</p> + +<p>He is the centre of action. But this day every +one seemed lazy.</p> + +<p>Firmin, who handled the hawser, passed it along +slowly. Chrétien, who was boatswain, showed more +languor than was natural. He seemed, by the slowness +of his work, to wish to recover the standing +which he had lost among the men, and to please his +comrades he assumed their careless ways.</p> + +<p>Florimond had at first tried to arouse their sleeping +energy, but he ran against a wall of inertia, and +seeing that a bad feeling was springing up, avoided +any action which would bring it to a head. He had +resigned himself to see the work badly done, and to +say nothing.</p> + +<p>Elise, on the other hand, was consumed with impatience. +She was not one of the first set of workers, +and waited on deck for the time to change shifts. +Amid all this bungling it made her especially +wretched to see Firmin act like the rest. In vain +did she whisper in his ear encouragement, reproaches, +prayers. She was depressed to find, in the +lad she loved so well, such an obstinate resistance.</p> + +<p>The hawser and the nets were payed out so much +more slowly than the boat sailed, that they were +dragged at the risk of tearing them. They, too, +seemed impatient at the men’s slowness.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>Nothing could be more painful to see than this +lack of accord between the sloop and the work. +Excited and nervous, Elise could not restrain herself +longer. She ran to Chrétien and pushed him aside.</p> + +<p>“Go! You have no right to set an example of a +bad workman.”</p> + +<p>Then she took his place.</p> + +<p>“Come, Firmin, hurry, my little man. Quick, the +boat will not wait.”</p> + +<p>And setting vigorously to work, waking up the +sailors, she seized the cords as they flew past, and +tied them to the hawser without stopping an instant. +All her figure was alive and in action, as her hands +worked. And the nets now went overboard in +keeping with the boat’s speed.</p> + +<p>Then there was a <i>furor</i> of work on the deck. +Everything was forgotten, the heaviness of the +atmosphere, the recent discouragement, the spirit +of insubordination. All were hurrying to and fro +in their enthusiasm. Florimond only had a feeling +of bitterness and gloom. He saw that there was a +stronger power than his on the boat. He was now +no more than half skipper.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER V.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Two</span> whole hours the men were busily at work +rigging the nets. But finally the last piece of them +went overboard, taking with it the last float.</p> + +<p>The main-sail was taken in, while the little stern-sail +was spread to keep steerage way on the boat. +Then the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> came into the wind and let +herself be towed by the nets, which drifted gently in +the current.</p> + +<p>Two men were enough to watch the deck, because +the fish catch themselves. The herring do the +work, one has only to wait for them. The sailors +sauntered back to the forecastle. It was time to +eat and sleep.</p> + +<p>But Florimond could not make up his mind to +follow them without giving a last look to the fleet +of casks, which seemed a line of great birds placed at +equal distances like so many scouts.</p> + +<p>All the fortune of the crew floated with the current. +What a risk it was, and, after all, they might +catch nothing. Florimond did not feel quite easy +in his mind. Perhaps he had been wrong to be so +obstinate. The herring is like the sardine. It has +no fixed habits, it is here to-day and there to-morrow. +Had he been really wise in reckoning on +finding them where he was? But what a knock-down +blow to a skipper, to be obliged to give way to +his sailors! He resolved to yield, nevertheless, if +the fish did not put in an appearance at once.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_038a.jpg" width="450" height="700" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">ALL THE FORTUNE OF THE CREW FLOATED WITH THE CURRENT.</p> + <p>Chap. 5.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>Full of disquiet, his frowns showed his internal +struggles. As far as eye could reach he could see +neither trace nor sign of fish. Not a whale, nor one +of those voracious birds which follow the herring as +their sure prey. Here and there other boats were +fishing in the same fashion as themselves. They +also had selected the same grounds. If he was deceived, +others were also.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless there was a chance that the fish were +lying under those banks of light mist which, here +in the North, blot out half the horizon. Above all +things the fishermen hate those heavy fogs which, +caused by the heat, come before the season, causing +the loss of many a small boat and entangling many +a net. It is an ugly piece of work to lift more than +two thousand fathoms of nets at such a time.</p> + +<p>In the North the fogs act as if malicious. Florimond, +since he could not see the fish, tried to smell +them, and inhaled a long breath. What was this in +the air, this odor bitter-sweet, whose flavor delighted +the nostrils of the man who recognized it?</p> + +<p>A sudden thrill of joy ran through the skipper. +In his blue eyes flashed sudden gleams, and his compressed +lips relaxed in a broad smile. With his two +hands he made a telescope to see more clearly, and +to pierce the mist.</p> + +<p>Was it not scattering? The breeze had without +doubt become stronger, and was driving the mist +before it like a light smoke. The surface of the +sea was clear. Everything became distinct as he +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>looked—the color of the sea, the density of the wave. +There lay the oily proof of the herrings’ presence. +Florimond could see the thick scum whose brackish +odor he had smelled. Had he not been right? +The school of black noses was here, and this was the +right place to spread the nets.</p> + +<p>In two bounds he was at the forecastle hatch, and +with all his strength he made it resound with the +joyful shout:</p> + +<p>“All on deck—a herring scum!”</p> + +<p>Filled with delight, and drawn by this cry of victory, +the men dropped their food, rushing and overturning +one another at the ladder, and holding fast +with feet, with knees, with hands. All nostrils were +distended, all eyes turned in the direction the skipper +pointed.</p> + +<p>“Was I not right, my lads? Here they are, the +black noses, always faithful to their rendezvous. +But they are swimming low. It is not hard to +understand why, with the half breeze one makes out +below there in this last quarter of the moon. The +nets are not low enough. Let out three fathoms.”</p> + +<p>The sloop’s boat was instantly dropped into the +sea. Four sailors slipped down a rope into her: two +big fellows to row, Chrétien to steer, an old hand to +let out the ropes.</p> + +<p>“Get on board, boy.” It was Firmin they called. +He was wanted to aid in the work, and disappeared +over the side in his turn.</p> + +<p>Elise tried to follow him. She slid down the rope +but the canoe had already its full force. One more +would have been in the way.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>“Keep back, Lison, you can go next time. Have +no fear; we will take good care of your Firmin.”</p> + +<p>Elise was not at all satisfied. The little fellow +was so headstrong that, when she did not have him +at her side, she was like a mother in distress. Hanging +on the rope, she called out:</p> + +<p>“Chrétien, let me take the helm. It will give you +time to finish your meal and to sleep an hour.”</p> + +<p>Too late. The oars cut the water, and they were +already at the nearest cask. Firmin quickly let out +three fathoms of rope and then the boat went on +from cask to cask while Elise watched it, as it flew +along lifted softly by the swell.</p> + +<p>She was still clinging to her rope, swinging over +the water, and in her sadness of heart had hardly +thought of herself.</p> + +<p>“Lise, what are you after? Do you want to swim +along with them? Your Firmin is lost for a couple +of hours only.”</p> + +<p>Then reaching down over the side, hauling at the +same time on the rope, and lifting Elise, Florimond +raised the young girl to the deck. Hardly was she +on her feet when she hurried to the gunwale, continuing +to follow the boat with eyes anxious and +tender.</p> + +<p>“Eh, Lise, it is not healthy in our trade to have a +heart so at the mercy of the wave. Why do you +look in that direction? It is much better on the +other side.” And with his arm stretched toward +the North, Florimond showed her the oily scum +which lay thick on the surface of the water over a +space of many miles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>“What a puddle! Have you ever seen it promise +as well?”</p> + +<p>He drew Elise forward where she would catch +the wind from the scum, and wished her to smell +the odor. She distended her nostrils in nervous +efforts, as if she was going to inhale all at once +these riches which the sea offered.</p> + +<p>“There is more than one mess of fish there. It is +a shame that they lie so low. They will not travel +at all to-day, at least unless they change their mind +after noon. These hunters after adventure are +governed only by whims. I do not know what they +have seen to make them lie at the bottom. See +how the birds dive after them.”</p> + +<p>A flight of gray birds specked the sky like a sombre +cloud, but to learn anything from their behavior +needed the eye of a sailor, an eye accustomed to +grasp, in all the completeness of detail, things most +distant and most fugitive.</p> + +<p>Florimond had seen clearly these hungry birds, +and it was from them that he knew to what length +to drop his net. Flying to a great height and then +closing their wings, they let themselves drop headlong +with all their weight, so as to dive to the bottom +of the sea. It is their fashion of catching the +fish when he swims low.</p> + +<p>Elise was not at all interested in their doings. +Fixed in one spot she watched the changes in the +horizon, which now appeared as a straight line, now +disappeared softly behind thin and formless vapors. +There was a rapid and continuous play as the wind +chased, with all swiftness, the gray and transparent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>mist. Then the changing fog formed cliffs, and all +at once, breaking out from the circle which bound it, +spread like a thick white cloud. The breath of the +North congealed into a heavy fog as it left his +mighty lungs.</p> + +<p>It seemed like the unfolding of a mighty winding-sheet, +ready to bury under its thick woof the infinite +expanse of heaven and sea. As if she already felt +the cold enveloping her, Elise shivered:</p> + +<p>“Quick, Cousin Florimond, quick, quick; see the +fog! I will blow the horn for the boat. How will +they be able to find their way back?”</p> + +<p>“They will grope from cask to cask. There are +old hands on board; I have no fear for them.”</p> + +<p>“All the same, I would like better to be with +Firmin. I will blow the horn. I have an idea that +he will recognize my voice.”</p> + +<p>While the young girl ran to the forecastle to get +the horn Florimond, half stupefied, watched the approach +of this white cloud, which immediately enveloped, +in a mournful silence, the school of herring, +the sea, the boats, and the men.</p> + +<p>The clamorous birds gave hoarse cries as they +flew to and fro, but already the fog hid them from +sight. Florimond threw a last glance at the scum, +which was disappearing like a fortune snatched +away as soon as seen. He saw at the same time +the neighboring fishing-boats, which were making +haste to take up their nets. Then, close at hand, +tacking about, a <i>flambart</i>, which, in its movements +to and fro, had less the air of a regular fisherman +than of a coaster pressed into the service. Decidedly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span>this <i>flambart</i> acted suspiciously. During the +last half hour it had sailed from one boat to another, +and had run along the length of the nets. +Its outlines blended into an uncertain mass through +the puffs of fog which commenced to surround it. +It seemed to broaden, to rise in height, to enormously +increase in size, and then to vanish like a +phantom of darkness.</p> + +<p>Then the veil of fog reached the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and +she was suddenly enveloped with a white night +damp, cold and penetrating. Florimond stroked +his beard, which was already dripping with wet. +He breathed into the dampness to judge of its +thickness and resistance, and lowered his glance in +order to see exactly how nearly objects close at +hand were obscured.</p> + +<p>“It is too heavy to last,” he said. “There will be +no risk in leaving the nets in the water.”</p> + +<p>At this moment, from the bow of the sloop was +heard a musical note, a long blast followed by two +slower ones. It seemed as if the name <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +had been called out in two plaintive words in the +midst of those stifling surroundings.</p> + +<p>Elise was blowing the trumpet with all her might +in the direction of the small boat. And when her +breath gave out and she stopped to rest, she raised +her black eyes and tried to pierce the white cloud, +in the hope of being able to discover the dear form +for which she was waiting. Then she listened, +motionless, thinking that she heard the noise of the +oars.</p> + +<p>Could they not hear then, the men in the small +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>boat: Firmin, Chrétien, the two big fellows, and the +old sailor? Elise blew again. She put all her +strength into a far-reaching blast. A heavy sound +came back. Could it be an echo from this ocean of +fog? It came from another fisherman; their signals +crossed. Could they have out a boat also?</p> + +<p>Then a figure came out of the fog beside Elise, +and suddenly, and almost with rudeness, said:</p> + +<p>“Elise, give me the trumpet. It is not a tool for +weak chests. You only empty your lungs without +making your comrades hear.”</p> + +<p>And with a blast that made the deck tremble, +Florimond blew into it. His chest was hollowed in +by the effort. One would have said the winding-sheet +of fog was torn asunder. Two other, three +other, horns answered by blasts nearly as sonorous.</p> + +<p>“You can hear more plainly. It is the end of the +trouble. Elise, you will soon see your Firmin +again.”</p> + +<p>But the lull was deceptive. Hardly had the fog +lifted when it settled down again, more thick and +more damp than before.</p> + +<p>For an hour, while the men in the forecastle took +advantage of their enforced idleness to drink, Florimond +made the air resound with his long blasts, but +he only exhausted himself uselessly in these desperate +appeals. The men in the boat, Firmin, Chrétien, +the two big fellows, and the old sailor did not +return. Silently, leaning over the gloomy abyss, +Elise looked and listened, listened and looked. +Alas! The men in the canoe did not return.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VI.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>flambart</i> which Florimond had seen to leeward +of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> was not a coaster. It was +a boat from some port of Escaut in search of herring, +but it was manned by one of those mongrel +crews, who are less anxious to live by their own +work than by stealing.</p> + +<p>The skipper, an old pirate who had sailed to the +four quarters of the world, did not lack boldness nor +skill. He had a quick eye, could read the weather +better than any one, and managed his boat with +singular dexterity. No one knew as well as he how +to take up his neighbor’s nets during the night, +shake out the sparkling fish into his bins, and return +the nets empty to the sea. When he did not find +the fish sufficient booty, he did not hesitate to keep +nets also, from which he cut off enormous pieces.</p> + +<p>Like the porpoise he was most active in bad +weather, and to assist his thieving, profited by all the +treachery of the sea. As soon as he saw the fog +coming, he tacked about in such a fashion that, at +the moment of his disappearance in the mist, he +should be lying to at the further end of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur’s</i> +nets.</p> + +<p>At this very moment the small boat came alongside +the float next to the last. The four sailors and +the boy had finished their work of overhauling, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>without any suspicion of the danger which was coming +down from the north upon them. They had +seen the <i>flambart</i> and had kept an eye on it, without +suspecting it of evil intentions. But, the moment +they were imprisoned in the fog, all five of +them alike had an intuition of the truth, and laid +their heads together.</p> + +<p>They could no longer make out the smallest object, +for everything was blotted from sight. Their +hollow voices took on a strange resonance in this +thick mist, but their eyes and ears became quickly +accustomed to its unreality, and their discussion was +as much to the point, as animated and as terse, as +if in full sunlight.</p> + +<p>Was it necessary to remain there on guard against +the thief? They would risk being crushed under +the bow of the <i>flambart</i>. Delay itself in the midst +of such a fog would be dangerous. The two big +fellows opposed with all their might any such step. +They did not own any share in the nets, but had +leased theirs for the season. Consequently, they +had less interest in defending them.</p> + +<p>Chrétien, always good-natured, yielded; but Firmin +would not. His nets and those of his sister +were there. He would not allow a single mesh to +be stolen, if he had to mount guard all alone astride +of a float.</p> + +<p>The old sailor owned nets, and he, too, held that +the boat should remain on guard. The fog would +probably lessen. Fogs like this, at the end of June, +passed in whiffs, like a puff of tobacco smoke.</p> + +<p>All five of them heard the blasts of horns blown +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>to guide them back, but these notes of alarm +reached them from the four quarters of the horizon. +In which direction should they go? By listening +intently they made out in the line of the nets a note +far distant and rhythmic; one would have said that +it was the name of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> which the fog +repeated.</p> + +<p>“Turn, Chrétien!” and the big fellows dug their +oars into the water.</p> + +<p>“No!” and the old sailor and Firmin clung desperately +to the cask.</p> + +<p>Chrétien hesitated between the two, but the calls +of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> became more frequent, more +plaintive, more pressing.</p> + +<p>“Chrétien, bring the boat around, or we will +strike”; and standing up the two big fellows lifted +their oars ready for a blow. Chrétien, easily persuaded, +shifted the helm. The old sailor let go of +the cask, but Firmin clung tightly and the boat, +dragged by one party, held back by another, oscillated +furiously.</p> + +<p>“Let go, boy, do you want to upset us?”</p> + +<p>But the angry boy clung fast. “Let go!” To +drag him away they gave a long pull on the oars. +But they were twitched back so vigorously that the +rowers tumbled off their seats. Then, in the confusion, +the boat floated loose.</p> + +<p>“Stop! Misery and bad luck! we have lost the +nets. Steer to starboard! No! Listen! The +horn of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> is to larboard. It has a +tender sound; one would believe that Lison was +blowing it for her boy. What do you say, boy, is it +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>your sister who is blowing? What has become of +Firmin? He is gone overboard. <i>Parbleu!</i> It was +he who upset us just now. Poor boy! He was too +obstinate. He is drowned, for if he had been able +to cling to the barrel he would have surely heard +us.”</p> + +<p>He heard them truly, but he did not answer. It +was the caprice of a child, the whim of an obstinate +little mule.</p> + +<p>Let them go, and good luck to them! So much +the better if they are lost. It will punish them for +having been cowards. And while the four sailors +lost themselves in the fog he floated astride of his +cask, as serious as a <i>gendarme</i> on his horse.</p> + +<p>They were well advised, those fellows who decided +to run away! As if a man ought to abandon +his goods to thieves! It took hard enough work to +earn them in the first place. Elise would be satisfied +with him, and thinking of his sister, Firmin was +proud of himself.</p> + +<p>All the same, it was hard work to cling astride his +barrel. He had the air of a toad who slips along a +stone too round for him. But when one makes up +one’s mind to do a thing, one can do it. In high +spirits he set himself straight in his saddle, bending +backward and forward to imitate the gallop of a +horse. The barrel dipped and rose softly, as if it +were swaying beneath him as it ran.</p> + +<p>“Hoop-la, hoop-la! The beast has blood, he +answers to the spur!”</p> + +<p>Two long hours passed, and, lost in this annihilation +of everything, Firmin became weary. He +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>floated dejectedly now with the current, and +watched the sun climb the heavens, marking its +position by a shaft of wan light through the mist. +How slowly he climbed, this pale sun! He was +nearly overhead, but his rays had not burned off +the thick vapor. The fog would go only with the +day.</p> + +<p>Nothing could be so gloomy as the silence. It +was broken only by blasts of horns at longer and +longer intervals, farther and farther away. Once in +a while there was a furtive splashing, a rapid swirl +of the water; it was a passing porpoise, a porpoise +good-natured and full of play. He swam at the +very surface of the sea, letting his fin show above it. +He stopped long enough to turn his foolish somersaults +and to stare, his black eyes twinkling with +merriment and mischief. But he could not wait to +laugh. He was far away in no time. Not a bird +flew near; everything was in mourning under this +winding-sheet of fog.</p> + +<p>Distress and exhaustion came together. In +water up to his knees, and drenched by the mist, +Firmin was worn out both in spirit and body. The +white night seemed to penetrate his heart. He +looked, he listened: but there was nothing except +this silent whiteness without form and without limit. +His startled eyes looked for dangers which he could +not see. He was frightened at noises which he did +not hear. Heedless of the fish, which began to +move as if to announce the end of the fog, he stared +fixedly before him into the silent blank which had +swallowed all the energies of his being.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_050a.jpg" width="450" height="710" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">THE WHITE NIGHT SEEMED TO PENETRATE HIS HEART.</p> + <p>Chap. 6.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span>Utterly worn out, his teeth chattering, gasping, +he calls Elise, who, alas, cannot hear him. His +clenched fingers dig themselves into the staves +of the barrel. Elise! Why did she not come to +the rescue of her fainting brother? In a convulsion +of terror he lost his balance and his barrel overturned, +throwing him into the sea. Elise! Elise! +the boy you love so much is drowning, he cannot +hold on longer, he is sinking!</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Where was he? Roused by an unlucky blow and +the noise of splintering wood, he came to himself +under a pile of nets, half suffocated and nearly +drowned beneath the dripping mass. Everything +came back to his mind, but indistinctly. He had +fallen from his cask, his strength gone, all hope +abandoned, when the sound of the nets being raised +had given him fresh courage. The hawser had been +drawn tight, bringing the nets right under his hands. +He clung to it desperately, he kept fast hold in its +rapid rise, and when he saw the boat at hand, +braced himself with his feet so as not to be crushed +or scraped against its side. With the nets he had +fallen on the deck, but then all his strength was +gone, and he did not know even how he had got +there.</p> + +<p>Then his brain became clearer. It seemed to him +that the fog was less dense. Through the entangling +net-work which surrounded him he saw figures, +but they were not his own countrymen; their hair +was too blond, their eyes too light. Then he remembered +the <i>flambart</i> and his suspicion of her. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>Strange figures passed him with savage gestures, +armed with gaffs, with capstan-bars, with oars, +with grapnels. Where were they hurrying, and +what meant their strange shouts and this unaccountable +outcry?</p> + +<p>In the midst of this uproar in a strange tongue, +Firmin heard the sound of voices which he knew; +the sonorous call of Florimond, the hoarse shouts of +the sailors. Then came the noise of grapnels +clutching the bulwarks.</p> + +<p>Then at intervals the clear voice of Elise:</p> + +<p>“This way! Alongside! Cousin Florimond, +they have perhaps stolen our men with our nets.”</p> + +<p>Then a tumult of blows. Under the pile of nets +Firmin struggled like a cat who tries to get out of a +snare. He was wild to rejoin Elise, to share with +her the risks of the fight, because he knew that +what he heard was a fight between the sloop and +the <i>flambart</i>.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Florimond had ended by being afraid of this fog +which did not disperse at noon. He knew that +sometimes such fogs lasted all day, and that they +were followed by wind. Then, bad luck to nets surprised +by heavy weather at the approach of night. +His anxiety for the small boat had increased also. +He supposed it moored to some float, but as it did +not come back he planned to anticipate its return by +taking up the nets. And on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> the +capstan smoked, so rapidly did it work. It turned +furiously. The men untied the nets in feverish +haste, two taking the place everywhere of one in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span>impatience which each felt to save his share of the +nets from an unknown danger. Suddenly the machine +gave a twitch as if the weights which it was +raising had doubled. Florimond, supposing at first +that he must be lifting the boat which was fast to +the float, rushed to the bow to shout an alarm +through the fog, but he recoiled in the face of an +apparition.</p> + +<p>It was a giant craft whose masts, seen through the +mist, appeared to touch the sky. It had a strange +and fantastic appearance, but its outline soon became +clear and distinct to him. The noise of work +was heard, the whirling of another machine, the +groaning of another capstan, the cries of men in +Flemish <i>patois</i>. It was the <i>flambart</i> which from +the other end was taking up his nets. Pack of +pirates!... <i>Tonnerre!</i></p> + +<p>They were going to strike bow to bow. With a +grinding that made the boat shiver the hawser +parted, lashing the water furiously like the blow of +a whip. The next instant there was a crash as the +boats met. Both bowsprits snapped short off, the +bows were staved in, timbers cracked, every joint +creaked. Sloop and <i>flambart</i> cried aloud together +under the violence of the collision. Then locked +together, foot to foot, axe to axe, they fought for +the nets.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Firmin worked without stopping to get free from +his meshy prison. His fingers were entangled, his +legs and arms held fast. The more he struggled +the more firmly he was held in this intricate mass.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>He heard the fight grow more noisy and more +bitter, taunts were hurled back and forth, there was +the sounds of blows, the cries of the wounded.</p> + +<p>Death and ill-fortune! Why had he not thought +of his knife while he was working there vainly like a +fly in a spider’s net. He was not long in opening a +way, in cutting for himself a door in the thick mass +of cordage. He was on his feet. What light was +this? The fog had gone of a sudden. He saw the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. He darted forward. “Elise! Elise!”</p> + +<p>Too late! The two boats had separated. From +the bulwarks of the <i>flambart</i> the grapnels, cut off by +hatchets, hung like dead claws, and the sailors with +the blond faces shoved away with oars and gaffs +the sloop which fell off wounded and gasping.</p> + +<p>“Elise! Elise!” Firmin had seen his sister, who +stretched out her arms to him.</p> + +<p>“Jump overboard, child! I will throw a buoy.”</p> + +<p>Without hesitation he sprang on the bulwarks, +but rough hands struck him back harshly to the +deck.</p> + +<p>“Elise! Elise!” Too late! The two boats had +hoisted their sails and in the now clear air were +under way, without pity for the two beings that +they were tearing asunder.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Sloop</span> and <i>flambart</i> set out each for its own port +to repair damages.</p> + +<p>After the collision Florimond had examined into +the state of his boat, and had judged it such as to +make speedy repairs a necessity. The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +was injured in her dead works only, but she had lost +her figure-head, carried away by the same blow as +the bowsprit, and her cut-water was stove. Moreover +the tearing of her planking to starboard threatened +to let in the water, and with her timbers +started in the bow she could not have borne a heavy +head sea.</p> + +<p>Temporary repairs were promptly made. The +wound in the planking was dressed within by a +solid facing of board and without was staunched +with a compress. A great piece of sail was smeared +with a thick coating of a waterproof dressing made +of tow, tar, and tallow, and this was then spread like +a great plaster over the injured place.</p> + +<p>The cracks in the cut-water disappeared under a +sheathing tightly nailed, and finally the only extra +mast which the boat owned, a mizzen mast, was +made to do duty as a bowsprit. It weighed a little +heavily on the bow, already too weak, and made the +boat pitch violently, straining her in her seams.</p> + +<p>There was no doubt that it would have been wise +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>to put into some Scotch roadstead, but Florimond +preferred to run all risks and try to make his own +port. Nothing is more hateful to a sailor than an +enforced stay on land, and a detention of this kind +appears to him more annoying and more irksome +than ever in a strange country.</p> + +<p>Florimond, besides, was impatient to begin legal +proceedings before the maritime authorities. He +had seen enough of the <i>flambart</i> to enable him to +identify her, and had no need of further evidence to +prove his charges and obtain speedy damages for +his injuries.</p> + +<p>He was not troubled at all as to Firmin. Pirates +of the North Sea are pillagers and stealers of nets, +but they do not eat men, and if they kept the boy +it was more from a fear of seeing him drown than +from a desire to hurt him. Surprised at being identified +in the sudden lifting of the fog, they would +not have wished to add to their misdeeds the +chances of a death which would weigh heavily in +the balance with their judges.</p> + +<p>There remained the canoe. As to this Florimond +was more troubled. He tried in vain to imagine +how the four men had become separated from Firmin, +and what direction they had taken. If his +sloop had not been damaged he would have recovered +the boy in order to find out; but he had been +too much troubled in the confusion of the unexpected +collision to think of saving anything beyond +his crew and his boat.</p> + +<p>The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> sailed south, while the <i>flambart</i> +fled eastward. Elise followed with an inert glance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>the strange craft which was carrying away the only +being for whom she cared to live. Then her first +feeling of stupor gave way, and she regained her +self-control.</p> + +<p>The <i>flambart</i> was not yet more than two cable-lengths +distant.</p> + +<p>It had not taken the wind, and it would be child’s +play to overtake her. As she watched her, still so +close at hand, a distant cry made her start. Her +child, the boy whom she loved, whom she had +always loved, was struggling not to be carried away.</p> + +<p>Stirred in every fibre of her being she drew herself +up, resolute and strong to defend the rights of +outraged affection. Running to the helm where +Florimond was, she seized it with her two hands as +if to bring the boat about.</p> + +<p>“Tack, cousin, I must get my boy.”</p> + +<p>“You are a fool, Elise. We shall have heavy +enough work as it is, if the weather does not favor +us.”</p> + +<p>“I do not care, I wish my boy.”</p> + +<p>“Then go and get him alone, the boat shall not +carry you.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, cousin! I beseech you. It will take less +than half an hour.”</p> + +<p>“The wind would not take as much time as that +to throw us on our beam-ends.”</p> + +<p>“Cousin, I promise you to be quick. We need +not come alongside, the boy shall jump overboard. +I will make myself fast to a rope and pick him up.”</p> + +<p>“Elise, be quiet. I have not even five minutes to +lose. The slightest squall would stave in our sides. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>I shall not have a moment’s peace until we have +reached port.”</p> + +<p>“Cousin Florimond, it is killing me to know that +my Firmin is among those pirates.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you let your imagination run away with +you? Do you not know that they will send him +back by the first boat? Is it not the custom?”</p> + +<p>“Cousin, cousin, hurry! The <i>flambart</i> is off.”</p> + +<p>“Elise, let go! I will not risk everything for your +wretched brother. Let go!”</p> + +<p>Elise did not let go of the helm. One would +have said that, holding herself thus fast to the soul +of the boat, she imagined that she could persuade it +to stop and act as she wished.</p> + +<p>But Florimond’s patience was exhausted at her +persistence. She raised to him her great black eyes, +firm and beseeching, and he was not able to bear +the trouble which he saw in them.</p> + +<p>“Away there! <i>Tonnerre!</i> Away there, Elise! +Do you think you are captain now because the sailors +have flattered you in order to annoy me? Have +you ever known me suffer another master than myself +on my boat? Away, there!”</p> + +<p>He raised his voice, that the men of the crew, who +pressed around them, interested in the dispute, +could hear clearly.</p> + +<p>There was not one who did not approve the skipper’s +prudence. At the first seam which shows +itself in the side of his floating house the sailor +loses confidence, and with that his resolution. +When one has nothing between one’s self and death +but a wooden box, it is especially necessary that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span>there should be no cracks in the planking. The +men remained silent, not able to forget the state of +affairs and to take sides. Nevertheless there was an +evident sympathy for Elise, a frank admiration for +her feeling and her bravery. They experienced a +mysterious respect for this creature, so strong in +the weakness of her sex; for this young girl, +vigorous and gentle, whose courage was sure +and whose heart was kind. She had shown against +danger a resolution which never failed, against +injury a pity which nothing discouraged. She had +won them over by the strength of her heroic +youth, and they gave her their full support and +confidence.</p> + +<p>Before her they did not dare to be ill-natured, or +to let her see their rough ways. They were eager +to show their skill and courage, to run without hesitation +in heavy weather along the gunwale, to walk +erect on the bowsprit, and to play like monkeys in +the rigging. Each showed his best side and, +through the force of example, Elise was the cause +of an increased discipline.</p> + +<p>All this was to Florimond a cause of jealousy and +continual ill-feeling. The more this strange influence +on his boat increased the less was he able to +stand it. He suffered from envy and mortification, +and these make even kind hearts unjust.</p> + +<p>In fact he regretted already that he had not managed +by prompt action to rescue Firmin. In his +inmost conscience he reproached himself for his +hardness; but, wounded in his vanity, he would +rather have died at the helm than have changed his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>first refusal, and so have seemed to yield to the +ascendancy of Elise.</p> + +<p>At this moment Barnabé came on deck, hardly yet +well, but drawn thither by the excitement of recent +events. He waddled pompously forward. Under +the bandages and rags in which half his head was +tied up, his round nose, his little alert eye, and his +black moustache gave him quite a military swagger. +He immediately took a hand in the discussion, with +his customary arrogant tone. He did not know the +cause of the dispute, but he was not accustomed to +being embarrassed by any such trifle as that, and his +only thought was to be revenged on Florimond.</p> + +<p>Being the last to arrive he found himself, as he +was a short man, out of sight behind the tall figures +of his comrades. He saw that his voice could not +be heard. Jumping upward he caught a rope, +climbed it, and hung fast to it like a cat, and then, +as much at his ease as an orator in his pulpit, delivered +his harangue. He spoke as brawlers everywhere +do, for the pleasure of hearing his own voice, +and without realizing that, in these first moments of +uneasiness, his audience did not care in the least for +his twaddle.</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue, Barnabé,” cried the skipper. +“We don’t want to hear you; one has better things +to do than to listen to the squalling of a fool, when +one fears a storm.”</p> + +<p>“Does the truth then trouble you? If you wish +to injure Lison, it is because you are jealous. She +is worth more than you.”</p> + +<p>This apostrophe had no connection with the subject +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>of debate, but it agreed very well with the real +feeling of the sailors. They all smiled grimly as +they looked at Florimond, who turned the tables +by saying:</p> + +<p>“There is no time for laughing, pack of simpletons. +Do you remember that our bow is as cracked +as Barnabé’s head?”</p> + +<p>With the weak vacillation of the ignorant they +lost their smiles instantly, but the landsman was not +vanquished:</p> + +<p>“If Lison had had charge of the boat, it would not +have been injured.”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, Barnabé,” cried Elise, “we are wasting +valuable time in foolish talk. My brother Firmin is +carried off on the <i>flambart</i>. I want to go after +him.”</p> + +<p>“Of course! We must tack,” shouted Barnabé.</p> + +<p>He waited for the effect of this demand. But the +sailors did not move, held back this time by the +fury of the skipper, who cried in a rage:</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue! Do you wish the boat to be +lost on account of this wretched girl? Is it not +enough that we have lost our season through her? +Since she has been on board we have had nothing +but bad luck.”</p> + +<p>He pushed Elise roughly from the helm. Overcome +by the cruelty of fate she burst into a torrent +of tears. From her black eyes, swimming in sadness, +the bitter drops gushed hot and tumultuous, +as though the source of bitterness and woe was +inexhaustible. Her chest heaved under her distressing +sobs, and a feeling of rude sadness, of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>instinctive pity seized all the men at the sight of +her grief and misery.</p> + +<p>“Shall we abandon her in her trouble?” shouted +Barnabé. “We must tack! It is only cowards who +make women weep. Come on! Seize the tiller!”</p> + +<p>The group of sailors was stirred by an involuntary +thrill. Florimond feared the unchaining of the +tempest, if he were not firm. With his strong hand +he snatched the tiller from its socket, and raised it +with all the strength of his mighty arm.</p> + +<p>“<i>Tonnerre!</i> Here it is! Who wants the tiller? +who wants it?”</p> + +<p>He made it whirl about him threateningly. All +the men recoiled instinctively, and slipping down +his rope Barnabé cunningly took shelter behind his +companions.</p> + +<p>“Who wants it? <i>Tonnerre!</i>”</p> + +<p>No one, evidently, was anxious for it, for no man +moved.</p> + +<p>At this moment the sloop gave a plaintive groan, +a yawning of her plastered seams.</p> + +<p>“Do you hear how she wheezes in the chest? She +breathes hard. Hoist the top-sail!”</p> + +<p>It was done. When she saw the sloop with all +sails spread, Elise felt that her last hope was gone. +Quickly, through the veil of her tears, she turned her +eyes toward the <i>flambart,</i> which was disappearing +on the eastern horizon, and, with lacerated feelings +and bleeding heart, abandoned herself to the depths +of her sorrow.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>For four days and four nights the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> ran +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>at the same speed without shifting a sail. In one +straight flight she passed through the North Sea, +entered the straits of Calais, and found herself again +in the familiar waters of the English Channel.</p> + +<p>But with her change of sea, she had a change of +wind. These sudden changes are very common in +these waters. One would have said that the breeze +was angry at the impatience of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and +that it changed in order to hinder her presumptuous +flight.</p> + +<p>If she could only get under way! For an hour +her large hull had ceased to slip proudly through +the waves, and was tossing a little heavily. There +was a risk of opening her wound. If she could only +get under way! Yonder in the wind’s eye, a squall +was brewing. In advance of the great clouds, +which rolled in gray whirls, rose a broad band of +sombre yellow, like a cliff of wind and rain. They +are not at all pleasant to meet, these briny coast +squalls, behind each one of which hide twenty others, +ready to follow in wild, endless uproar.</p> + +<p>The band of yellow spread. It covered half the +sky, and its outlines reached the zenith. It drew +near, driven by a furious wind, and borne on a +rushing wave, like a moving wall of water, ready to +crash down. In a quarter of an hour it covered the +whole heavens, while before it ran three waves, +avant-couriers, who preceded it for some minutes, as +if to announce the tempest.</p> + +<p>If the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> had only not lost so much time. +It had hardly taken in any sail, it was as full of bravado +as if it wished to meet the squall, and be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>driven along by it. It was approaching its port. +Already had it passed the sands of Gris-Nez and +the chalky rocks of Boulogne, it had seen again the +light-house of Etaples, it had heard the buoy which +whistles on the shoals of Berck, and the buoy of the +Vergoyer. There the sea is the shallowest in those +waters. The bottom lies little over twenty feet below +the surface. The surf foams and breaks as +strongly as on the coast. It is heavy enough to +capsize any boat.</p> + +<p>It was toward this spot that the north-east wind, +which had held for the last hour, was blowing. If +it should suddenly get the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> in its clutch, +it would drive her to this Vergoyer, whence escape +was impossible. Never can it be known how many +men and boats have been engulfed by these eddies, +hardly three thousand feet wide. At its very name +Elise had a shiver of fright. For it was this accursed +Vergoyer which had made her an orphan, and +which still kept jealously the bodies of her father +and his six companions, refusing to deliver them up +to the land they loved so well.</p> + +<p>Florimond was at the helm. For four days he had +hardly left it. Less than ever in the hour of peril +would he entrust to other hands the fortunes of his +boat. With his steady eye, and that skill in handling +her which never forsook him, he had fought the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> against the treacherous sea; refusing all +rest, having his meals brought to him, and eating +with one hand while he steered with the other. In +this half week he had not slept five hours. His +cheeks were burning with fever, and his clear eyes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span>were dimmed and seemed sunk deep into his +head.</p> + +<p>It was because he knew and feared this sea, which +was so quickly angry; this sea which supports life, +but which also destroys it.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER VIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florimond’s</span> only hope was that the storm +would be slight, for sometimes, threatening as they +seem, these squalls have little force, and are soon +over. He awaited impatiently the three waves +which preceded it, in order to judge of the strength +of those in their wake.</p> + +<p>These three waves are often followed by a lull. +There is generally a space of five minutes between +the first alarm and the arrival of the wind; five +minutes, which a good sailor utilizes in getting his +ship ready to meet it.</p> + +<p>What should he do? Should he keep the wind +astern and run before it with all speed in the direction +of his harbor? It was a hundred chances to +one that he would strike on the Vergoyer.</p> + +<p>Was there any other means of safety that he +could try? Should he close reef her? Was not +that still more risky?</p> + +<p>When a boat is close reefed, she renders the tempest +harmless by offering it no resistance. The sea +has a malicious pleasure in hurling masses of water +against an object which opposes it. So the boat +uses a kind of strategy. She appears to be at the +mercy of the waves, but all the while keeps a sharp +watch against the rude play of her adversary. All +sail is struck, so as to give the wind no hold except +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>on the hull, and as the boat drifts, she forms with +her hull a large wake, flat and solid, which resists +the violence of the waves, stops them, and knocks +them down, so that they die out on it.</p> + +<p>The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> was an old hand at this kind of +work, and expert at it. It is usually so with good +sailors; so that had she not been injured, Florimond +would not have dreaded the squall in the least. He +would have let his boat drift, and would have +brought up at Treport or perhaps at Dieppe; but +she was injured in precisely the parts which would +be most under strain.</p> + +<p>Only two sails are used; in the bow the stay-sail, +and in the stern a little leg-of-mutton, which takes +the place of the jigger-sail. In this way the two +ends of the boat, which alone carry sail, feel the +force of the wind. Consequently they must be very +strong. Would the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, wounded as she +was, have strength to resist such a strain?</p> + +<p>It seemed then to Florimond that to drift would +end almost certainly in the boat’s breaking up. He +was still hesitating when the three waves arrived, +foaming and roaring, and swept the deck from end +to end.</p> + +<p>In order to withstand the shock, which he foresaw +was to be tremendous, he had braced himself, +with legs far apart; but the first sea lifted him off his +feet, picked him up, shook him, knocked him senseless, +and rolled him over and over, leaving him +unconscious on the deck. The second wave would +have carried him overboard, had not two sailors +seized him just in time, and dropped him into a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>place of safety, through the open hatch by the +capstan.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The three waves swept by in a fury of foam, +showing that the wind was to be tremendous. They +must act or die.</p> + +<p>Who should take the helm?</p> + +<p>“Lison—Lison!”</p> + +<p>As with one voice the sailors called for the girl, +showing involuntarily how they depended on her for +their lives. It was a perilous honor which they +forced upon her.</p> + +<p>Injured in her dead works already, and full of +water, the sloop quivered under the blows of the +waves, while at this very moment she was close to +the dangers of the shoals, with their shifting currents +of eddying sand.</p> + +<p>Elise did not hesitate. In her instinctive terror +of the Vergoyer, she had but one thought—that was +to fly from it, to shun, cost what it might, the place +to which the wind was furiously hurrying them. +Had it not already had enough victims, this gulf of +the dead, that one should offer one’s self as a fresh +sacrifice, with the certainty of not escaping?</p> + +<p>Elise, by close reefing the boat, hoped to reach +the pier at Treport. There was on the coast to the +south-west a bad channel to pass through, down +toward the black buoy, but they would do their best +when they came to it. Between two dangerous +courses ought not one to choose the less?</p> + +<p>Without hesitation, without even surprise at their +choosing her, she ran to the helm and quickly made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span>herself fast to the end of a rope, so as not to be +swept over by the enormous seas that were to come. +She gave out her orders:</p> + +<p>“Furl the jib and the main-sail! Rig the leg-of-mutton!”</p> + +<p>She ordered ropes stretched at once from the +mast to the gunwale, for the men to hold to. She +assigned them their posts. Four sailors to the +pumps, two to the lookout on the bow. Everything +was ready when the first blast came, with furious +waves heaped up on one another, as if to drown +them under the deluge of foam and spray. The +deck was under water from one end to the other. +Quantities of it ran into the open hatchways. How +had it happened that they could have forgotten to +shut these mouths of the ship? Through them she +was drinking enough water to sink her.</p> + +<p>“Close the hatches! Nail them fast!” The covers +were clapped on, and, in order that they should +not yield to a sudden strain and open of themselves, +were made secure by heavy blows of hammer and nails.</p> + +<p>It was time. Great sweeping seas came aboard. +Furious at finding the hatches closed, they crashed +against the bulwarks, and ran off slowly through the +scuppers.</p> + +<p>All was ready. Heaven help them! Elise stood +erect, conscious of her responsibility. Near her a +sailor called out when the heaviest seas were going +to break. She turned her back to them, bracing +herself firmly, disappearing in the whirls of foam, +but always reappearing on her feet, energetic and +unconquerable.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>Soon the blasts of the tempest were in mad chase, +as if striving to see which could lash the hardest and +most furiously.</p> + +<p>With quivering plunges, with creakings and +strainings, the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> fell away across the +shoals. Sometimes the waves were swifter than +she, and swept by her; then, striking her on the +stern, they drove her violently forward. Her bow +groaned dolorously, the pumps clanked unceasingly, +while the lookout shouted:</p> + +<p>“To larboard a bell buoy!”</p> + +<p>It was the buoy anchored on the shoals of +Somme.</p> + +<p>“To starboard a black buoy!”</p> + +<p>The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> entered the channel. This was +a perilous spot, but Elise did not fear it any more +than the shoal the bell buoy marked. Through +these waters, so treacherous on account of their +shifting sands, she had sailed with her father often +enough to know all the dangers, and to shun them +with the confidence of an old pilot.</p> + +<p>Immovable and firm, she managed the helm +rather with her nerves than with her muscles. +Heavy as it seemed for her, she held it against the +seas, and by a continual go and come of the tiller +forced the boat’s head in such a way as to spare the +bow, making the stern bear the brunt of the shocks. +Now stumblingly, now with a rush forward, the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> went on her crooked course, and buoys +and beacons went by her as fast as if they were +themselves running in an opposite direction.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_070a.jpg" width="450" height="706" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">NEAR HER, A SAILOR CALLED OUT WHEN THE HEAVIEST SEAS + WERE GOING TO BREAK.</p> + <p>Chap. 8.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Hurrah! They see at last the light-house of Treport,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> +which yonder to leeward stands out clear +above the sombre cliffs, white as the emblem of +hope. Courage! the wave is heavy, but the danger +of the shoals is over. Before a half hour the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +will be at the pier.</p> + +<p>Alas, the wind stiffens! The heavens are black, +the sea is black, the foam alone is white. The +waves strike her more furiously. One of them, +angry and irresistible, has nearly engulfed her in its +whirling mass. She is entirely lost to sight. For +twenty seconds there is no sign of her. Then she +shakes herself free, but with a fresh rent in her bow. +A little more, and she would have gone down forever. +Heaven help them!</p> + +<p>“Turn out a reef of the main-sail, two reefs of the +jib!”</p> + +<p>What are you thinking of, Elise! more sail to a +wind so furious that it already nearly tears away +the little that the boat is carrying. The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +flies like a bird of the tempest. In less +than a quarter of an hour she is just under the light-house. +Courage! Alas! The cut-water opens, and +the bow settles, until the deck is on a level with the +sea. Are they to go down so near port? Heaven +help them!</p> + +<p>“Hoist the jib and the stay-sail!”</p> + +<p>More sail still? It seems madness. The jib is +hardly hoisted before it is torn away, dragging with +it the makeshift bowsprit.</p> + +<p>Its rags and the timber thrash about, threatening +to destroy everything. Death and misery! The +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> digs her nose under water.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>“Hoist the main-sail!”</p> + +<p>It is a fearful task. Heaven help them! But +while the boat floats there is hope. The sailors +watch for a lull in the wind, and suddenly the sail +hangs out in the teeth of the gale. The bow is full +of water, but lifted by the pressure of the wind +against the sail it rises again.</p> + +<p>Courage! The light-house is close at hand. How +the boat rolls and pitches! But now the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +is not making headway. She lies low in +the water, plunging heavily. She is like a wounded +sea-gull beating with its wings in its last agonizing +flight.</p> + +<p>The mast cracks as if it would break. The sail is +bellied out by the wind, but her hull is such a dead +weight that she hardly moves.</p> + +<p>“Hoist the top-sails! Heaven help us!”</p> + +<p>Courage! The boat is under way again! The +light-house is not more than twenty fathoms distant, +but at the harbor mouth there is a frightful chopping +sea.</p> + +<p>Courage! Misery! The mast goes by the board.</p> + +<p>“Cut her free!” The hatchets work busily. The +mast and the sail drop into the sea. The boat rises +lightly. She still floats.</p> + +<p>Tossed from crest to crest, helpless now, she +pitches and rolls fearfully. On the pier there is a +frightful clamor. Hoo-o-o! Hoo-oo-oo!</p> + +<p>The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> whirls about aimlessly.</p> + +<p>A wave strikes her on the side and drives her into +the harbor. Courage! Misery! She will come to +grief against the pier! No! With an effort which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>drives all the blood to her heart, Elise gives a +mighty shift to the helm. The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> lies +over, her keel almost in air. Hoo-oo-oo! She has +gone down in the yawning gulf. No! She rolls +back. Is it for the last time? No! The helm +brings her up. Ropes are thrown and seized. Two +hundred hands make her fast.</p> + +<p>“Furl all sail!” The only sail left, the little leg-of-mutton +in the stern, is taken in.</p> + +<p>And they are in port! Hurrah! Elise, your +sloop and your men are safe!</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER IX.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Florimond</span> accused Elise of meanness and +treachery, and declared that he would never forgive +her.</p> + +<p>When she had ordered the hatches closed, her +order had been carried out so quickly that they had +forgotten him, as he lay unconscious under the +capstan hatch, and had nailed him in like a package +in a box.</p> + +<p>Shaken by the rolling and pounded by the pitching, +he had come to himself, and had cried aloud, +but his calls were lost in the noise of the storm. +Too impatient to wait quietly for the help which +they seemed to refuse him, he had seized the +machinist’s tools and pried with all his force on the +cover. Not being able to lift it he tried to smash +it, this trap which weighed him down like a cover +on a coffin. He rained a volley of blows upon it. +Could it be that they did not hear him? If they +kept him a prisoner in this way, it was because he +was betrayed.</p> + +<p>Then he took fresh courage and shouted until he +was breathless, but still the trap was not raised.</p> + +<p>Then he understood. It was to destroy him that +they shut him up, to wipe out with his death all evidence +of their insubordination. In case the boat +was lost they would not let him have a chance for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>life, as he would have had if free. He would go to +the bottom with the boat without being able to +struggle even, drowned stupidly like a rat in a pantry. +And believing that the others, busy above, +were rejoicing at his approaching end he pounded, +pounded, without stopping.</p> + +<p>He heard every quiver of the boat, and listened +anxiously to its groans and wails of agony. He +heard the waves beating her sides, as if to stave +them in. One after another he felt the blows strike +the hull, which trembled to its keel.</p> + +<p><i>Tonnerre!</i> To die shut up, living, in his tomb!</p> + +<p>And all on account of this Lison, this girl whom he +had taken because she was dying of hunger. He +was well recompensed. She was a fraud, a traitress, +like all the rest of her kind. It was she who had +brought him bad luck.</p> + +<p>He had refused to go after Firmin, an idiot who +was not worth the danger one would have run for +him. Now she was being revenged, this Lison. +She had bewitched the crew; she was captain on +deck, while he, the true captain, was thrown into +the hold like the commonest sailor.</p> + +<p>Then, as his jealous fancies grew, Florimond +became mad with anger. His breath came hurriedly, +he dug his nails into his breast, he was burning +with rage.</p> + +<p>He threw himself against the cover. If he could +but break it loose, so as to open a passage and reappear +in the midst of these miserable dogs, how he +would lash them as they deserved. He would show +them what they gained in taking a new captain—this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>Lison who brought trouble and bad luck. She +had caused a mutiny, without doubt that she might +seize the helm and declare on their return, with the +crew to back her, that she knew how to manage a +boat as well as a captain. It is death to a boat to +have a woman aboard. If only before he went +down he could hold her five minutes between his +fingers, and drag her strangling in the gulf with him. +<i>Tonnerre!</i> In his rage for vengeance he tried to +lift with his shoulders the covering of his prison, and +wore himself out in useless efforts. He was lying +flat on his back, exhausted by his unsatisfied hatred, +when he heard the hatch open.</p> + +<p>Hardly had she seen the sloop firmly tied to the +quay than Elise remembered Florimond. Was it +possible that, in the midst of the confusion of the +squall, the captain had been forgotten? If they had +gone down he would have drowned without having +a chance to fight for life, or to ever see again the +sky above him.</p> + +<p>Elise gave orders at once, and to hurry their execution +took a hand herself. In an instant she had +seized a lever and ripped off the cover; then, dropping +on her knees, in order to see and to speak more +clearly:</p> + +<p>“Cousin Florimond, we are in port—all safe!”</p> + +<p>There was no answer.</p> + +<p>“You frighten me, Cousin Florimond. Are you +injured?” and bending over him she felt his forehead +and hands. She started back suddenly, frightened +and shivering. He had risen to his feet, his +wide-open eyes had a strange glare, his raised finger +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>threatened her. His head touched the ceiling, his +face seemed strangely pale in the deep shadow. +Elise was so frightened that she threw herself +behind the machine, hardly daring to raise her eyes, +and trembling as if before a judge.</p> + +<p>“Listen, Cousin Florimond, the men sent me to +the helm. I was busy with the boat. It is true +that I ought to have thought of you.”</p> + +<p>She waited for his response. Even though it +should be hard and unjust, yet if he would only +speak, she could at least be able to tell how angry +he was by his voice.</p> + +<p>“Cousin Florimond, answer me! Do you not forgive +me? It was not my fault that they made me +take the helm in your place. My body is as +wounded as my feelings. Do not torture me any +more. Answer me, Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>His lips did not move, but his wide-open eyes +glared, as if to chastise the frightened soul who +trembled under their menace.</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Cousin Florimond; will you break my +heart, because I forgot you in the midst of such +danger? It all came about from closing the hatches. +I ordered it done just as you would have yourself.”</p> + +<p>Rigid as his own spectre, Florimond appeared terrible +in his immobility.</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Cousin Florimond!”</p> + +<p>And poor Elise, overcome, fell on her knees, her +face hidden between her two hands.</p> + +<p>“Bad luck! <i>Tonnerre!</i> Bewitcher of sailors! +You made them nail me in the hold, so that you +would be free to take my place. It is your turn to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span>be locked up. You will stay here until the arrival +of the commissaire; then you can tell your story to +the police, you thief!”</p> + +<p>At this sudden accusation, Elise rose to her feet. +She was reassured by his outburst of noisy rage. +“I have stolen nothing. It was your own sailors +who put me in your place. It was not my fault. +You were knocked senseless, Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, traitress and——”</p> + +<p>He stopped suddenly, interrupted by a call which +made him start. “Hello, captain”; he recognized +the voice immediately. It was that of the official inspector. +Turning to go on deck, he said in a low tone +to Elise, “I am going to tell him of your doings.”</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Cousin Florimond!”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, traitress, thief!”</p> + +<p>Leaving her frightened and in tears, he was +quickly on deck. The under-commissaire of marines +awaited him, very magnificent and dignified, in +his tightly buttoned overcoat and his silver-laced +hat. He had seen the dramatic entrance of this +strange boat into his port, and came more from +curiosity than from the demands of the service. +When he first stepped aboard he had asked for the +captain, and thus had recalled him to the recollection +of the sailors.</p> + +<p>Busy as they were in unloading the nets in order +to free the hull, or working the pumps, the men had +not given a thought to Florimond. Besides, their +minds were so full of Elise, and of her courage and +skill in handling the boat, that unconsciously they +had forgotten the real captain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>The officer had surprised them by his unexpected +demand. They brought him to the capstan hatch, +and hearing Florimond’s angry voice they had +spoken loudly, so as not to allow it to come to the +ears of authority.</p> + +<p>As a rule, sailors are not happy to find themselves +face to face with a maritime officer. They have +always some little fault in mind. The fishing laws +are severe, and if they cannot hoodwink the police, +they are likely to lose all their profits in fines and +penalties.</p> + +<p>Florimond had no fancy for this class of visitors +any more than his men, and he, too, had upon his +conscience certain small sins. In engaging a woman +he had not gone contrary to the law, which allowed +captains perfect liberty in the choice of their crew. +But in the fear of being refused a clearance, he had, +when he had showed his list, put Elise down as a +man. On this point, therefore, he was not entirely +at ease.</p> + +<p>On another score also he was troubled. He admitted +to himself that the blow with which he had +laid open Barnabé’s head might cause an inquiry +to lie against him for abuse of power. And in the +uninterrupted succession of conflicts and misadventures +which had assailed him since his departure, he +could not clearly distinguish on whose side was the +right or wrong.</p> + +<p>In spite of his threats to Elise, therefore, he prudently +kept silence about her, and told only of the +two things absolutely necessary—the disappearance +of the small boat, and the theft of the nets. He +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>made hardly any allusion at all to Firmin’s being +carried off—a boy without relatives—he stopped +short. From the capstan hatch came a burst of +sobs.</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Cousin Florimond!”</p> + +<p>He went on in a louder tone—“a little deserter +who got on to the <i>flambart</i> in order to seek adventures——”</p> + +<p>“Mercy, Cousin Florimond!”</p> + +<p>“A young sea vermin who overturned discipline, +who——”</p> + +<p>The commissaire stopped Florimond with a cynical +gesture.</p> + +<p>“You are too excited, captain! I suspect there is +something hidden behind all this. I will make an +inquiry about this little fellow.” And he clambered +back upon the quay, where were piled up all that +they had saved of nets, floats, and rigging. He +verified the importance of the theft, examined the +parted hawser and the torn nets, then he summoned +all the sailors for an inquiry.</p> + +<p>All answered alike, as if inspired by the captain. +There had been no trouble on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. +Nevertheless Barnabé appeared otherwise disposed. +When he saw his turn for speaking come, he squared +himself proudly and tossed his head, in order to +attract attention to his bandages and wounds.</p> + +<p>Florimond saw him. He knew that he would not +keep quiet before the police, and that they would +get from him enough to make them all trouble. He +was thoroughly afraid of some foolish indiscretion. +One gains only harm when one meddles with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>law. He placed himself directly before the landsman, +and, raising his great figure to its full height, +seemed to make that of Barnabé all the smaller. +He attracted his attention by a light whistle, and +frowned threateningly at him.</p> + +<p>Barnabé dropped his head. From that instant he +was docile. He had in mind the lesson which he +had received with the blow. One would have said +that he had been injured permanently in his brain, +and that the presence of the captain was enough to +paralyze it. But as he lowered his tone at the dictation +of his master, he was rated at his true value +by his comrades. He, no more than the others, had +complaints to make, and the inquiry ended without +results.</p> + +<p>The sailors had not allowed the commissaire to +perceive the presence of Elise, but hardly had they +seen him depart than they ran toward the capstan hatch.</p> + +<p>“On deck, Lison! The penalty merchant is gone +back to his shop.”</p> + +<p>Florimond instantly interposed.</p> + +<p>“Away there all! Let her cry her eyes out. The +first man who defends her I will twist up like a knot +in a sheet!”</p> + +<p>The men drew aside like cowards, and that was +the end.</p> + +<p>The necessary steps at the maritime bureau, and +the necessary work to get the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> to the +ship-yard, took four long days. During all this time +Florimond nursed his anger. He knew now, how +Elise had saved the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and what a debt +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>he had involuntarily contracted to her. The +thought tortured him. He almost certainly would +not have run the risks she had. He would never +have dared to drift for four hours with open seams +in such a storm. He would have run before the +wind, he would have fallen into the eddies of the +Vergoyer, and without doubt he would have met +death there.</p> + +<p>He had burnings in his stomach, and rushes of +blood to the head. Oh, this Lison! He owed her +not only his boat—he owed her his life. He would +rather have perished. He would not then have had +such a gnawing at the heart.</p> + +<p>Could it be that his luck had turned? Never had +such a chapter of accidents come to a good skipper. +What would they say at home; that he was too +proud, and that it served him right? He had +always been the first to return without a man lost, +his bins full; and now to-morrow he must appear, his +boat injured, his nets gone, four men lost, too, and +not the tail of a fish. Would any one believe that it +was not his fault? It is hard lines for a skipper to +have to own defeat.</p> + +<p>In fifteen days he had three times just escaped +with his life. He had been close to death, close to +ruin! He would no longer be the foremost skipper +of that coast. A young girl had stolen his glory +from him. He could hear even now all these sailors +singing the praises of this Lison in the taverns at +home. What would they say of him? He would +like to take a turn of a rope around their evil +tongues.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>In fact, he could no longer stand the sight of +Elise, and turned away wretched at hearing even +her name. He kept her away from the work, and +was out of patience that she must stay two days +more on board. He would have sent her home with +half the crew, but he was afraid that, before his +return, the sailors’ tongues would have already been +at work, building up Elise’s fame on the ruins of his +own.</p> + +<p>And only when all was ready, the nets and provisions +stored, the sloop careened in the ship-yard +on the beach, and the farewells exchanged, did Florimond +take the homeward route with his companions.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>What a sorrowful return it was! They walked +with lowered heads, their old knitted jerseys tucked +into the bands of their trousers. They were barefoot, +with their kits on their backs, their shoes +knocking together beneath them. Sailors do not +use up good shoes on bad country roads. Accustomed +to the smooth deck, and made tender by +being perpetually wet, their feet do not take kindly +to these stony ways. They trotted and limped like +a company in full rout. A melancholy return!</p> + +<p>They mounted the rough path to the cliffs. +When they were on their summits, they went, for +two hours, now down, now up, across the valleys, +along the path of the coast guards, close to the sea. +The sky was clear. Under the cheerful light their +unhappy condition seemed even more sad.</p> + +<p>First came Elise, the least bent, the least overcome. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span>Her glances searched the horizon without +ceasing, as if in a last hope. One would have said +that she expected to see the boat which had carried +off Firmin come sweeping before the breeze. Her +thoughts wandered away, dreamy and tender, +toward the boy whom she could not forget.</p> + +<p>Next came the men, bent like beasts of burden, +their eyes fixed on the ground.</p> + +<p>Last of all came the captain, more despondent, +more stricken than the others, his large back bent, +not under the weight of his kit—he would not have +minded ten times as much; the burden which +weighed him down was one which his strong shoulders +had not felt before. Defeat was a heavy load +for him. Until to-day, he had laughed at bad luck, +had hardly pitied those whose lives he had seen +shipwrecked. Oh, this Lison!</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_084a.jpg" width="450" height="708" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">A SAD RETURN.</p> + <p>Chap. 9.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER X.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> sky seemed to mock them. Swept by the +winds, it was of a limpid blue, that deep summer +blue which is mirrored back on the surface of the sea.</p> + +<p>Two leagues on their way the sailors came in +sight of a village. From the height where they +were they could see it beneath them, nestling in a +hollow of the cliff. It was a coast village, without +harbor or boats. The houses were clustered together, +half-hidden by tender foliage. Here, at +least, one should be happy. The fishers earned +their living from the beach, without fear of tempests, +and this peaceful nook at this early morning +hour, sparkling in the sunlight, seemed so cheerful +that the men stopped, moved by a vague longing +for comfort and rest.</p> + +<p>They were trying to pick out the tavern, when +Florimond overtook them. He was in no mood to +enjoy seeing others happy, and his ill-humor awoke +at the sight of the peaceful picture below them.</p> + +<p>“No, truly, we will not let them see our wretchedness. +We can avoid the village by turning off +through the fields. These landlubbers, who stuff +themselves until they fall asleep, would be only too +happy to see a procession of shipwrecked mariners. +People who are fortunate love to make merry over +the troubles of others. Go on, my lads—starboard.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>The men did not agree with him. When they +left the boat they became their own masters again, +and proposed to make use of their liberty. A sailor +ashore has no captain but his own inclination.</p> + +<p>Barnabé spoke up:</p> + +<p>“Are these landlubbers going to prevent our having +a drink?”</p> + +<p>And they all began the descent.</p> + +<p>“You pack of dry gullets,” cried Florimond; +“may you be soaked with water like an old +swab!”</p> + +<p>Then in a rage, he turned toward the fields.</p> + +<p>Elise could not resist a feeling of pity to see +him set off deserted by them all. Frank and tender-hearted, +she was wretched at the sight of this strong +man so upset by ill-fortune; this captain, so proud +and confident in his warfare with the sea, so pitiable +in his trouble. She suffered from his unjust suspicions, +but in spite of all, she was not able to repress +the impulses of her generous nature. Involuntarily, +in an outburst of sympathy, she went to him.</p> + +<p>“Cousin Florimond, let me go with you. You +will not be so lonely if we are together!”</p> + +<p>“Get away, traitress, get away.”</p> + +<p>He could not utter another word. His eyes were +bloodshot. His lips stammered out weak abuse. +He raised his hand high above his head, then let it +fall against his side, and turning, hurried away +through the bright sunshine.</p> + +<p>“You are unjust to me, Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>Elise dropped down on the bank by the roadside. +For some minutes she watched his disappearing figure. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>She admired him so much that in her inmost +heart she forgave him.</p> + +<p>She laid her kit beside her, and leaned on her +elbow, resting her head on her hand. Her thoughts +were sad. But presently her eye turned toward the +deep blue sky overhead, where the white clouds +were sailing, then to the north, where the cliffs fell +away and the dunes began, then to the horizon, +where the Bay of Somme indented the sandy coast. +She rose to her feet. Down yonder, beyond the +dark mass of St. Valery, on the other side of the +white line which marked the bay, she might perhaps +be able to make out the steeple of Crotoy, with its +fortress-like tower. No. In this strong sunlight +everything was blurred. Through the warm, palpitating +air, even objects best known and most loved +were indistinct.</p> + +<p>But, as if it were before her, she saw in her own +mind her native village and the empty cottage. +Might she not cherish a little hope? Who could +tell! Perhaps Firmin had met some friendly boat, +which had taken him aboard. Perhaps he was +already at home and impatient at his sister’s delay, +this lad who was so little used to waiting.</p> + +<p>She would have liked to believe it, but she had +had so little happiness that she was distrustful.</p> + +<p>But if Firmin were not there Silvere would be, +and he would understand and help her. There was +one person, at least, in the world, who loved her. +For, as to her boy, she knew well that she lavished +on him more tenderness than he would ever give +back. Perhaps he had already fallen in love with a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>life of adventure on the <i>flambart</i> and forgotten his +home. He was so strong and confident.</p> + +<p>At the very thought of such a desertion Elise +began to tremble. No. The boy was obstinate, +but he had a good heart. He would surely come +back. It was more likely that he was unhappy, +and calling despairingly for his sister. His last cry +of distress on the deck of the <i>flambart</i> still rang in +her ears.</p> + +<p>From their description of her, it was known at the +bureau at Treport that the <i>flambart</i> belonged to one +of the principal ship-owners of the large seaport of +Escaut. This reassured her. She would know +where to make inquiries. The owners of the boat +had always preferred to pay damages rather than to +risk coming into court in such a case as theirs was +now.</p> + +<p>Filled with hope, Elise took up her march. In a +breath she had passed the village, and leaving the +sea turned inland along the St. Valery road, which, +dusty and interminable, stretched away between +two rows of trees, stunted and twisted by the west +wind.</p> + +<p>Five leagues of this gloomy journey passed. +Elise was more tired in heart than in body. The +country did not interest her in the least. It seemed +shut in and contracted. One could see only patches +of the sky; the air was close and heavy. The +horizon could be almost touched by the hand. The +soil was so poor, so hard to till, that it was cultivated +only in small patches; the plough furrows were +hardly a cable’s length. What a contrast to the +open sea. How the chest expanded there! What +mighty breaths one drew! And one took less time +to turn a sea furrow from north to south than it +would require to plough a field no longer than a +harbor.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_088a.jpg" width="450" height="699" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE SAW, ACROSS THE BAY, THE LITTLE VILLAGE WITH + ITS WHITE HOUSES.</p> + <p>Chap. 10.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>Sea life is broad and generous. It stirs one’s +mental activity, while it strengthens one’s body. +Elise was in haste to see it again, this sea, as beautiful +in its rage as when at peace; this sea, which +had made her courageous and strong, and would +make Firmin courageous and strong also.</p> + +<p>At last, at a turn of the road, the whole Bay of +Somme, with its quiet waves gliding under the rays +of the setting sun, lay, before her. Bathed in a +golden mist, she saw, across the bay, the little village +with its white houses; she recognized the little cottage +hidden away behind the sandy hillocks half +way up the dunes. Was the chimney smoking? +Could Firmin have returned? No, it was a house +adjoining. The cottage was still empty. She +would sleep alone in it that night.</p> + +<p>But she could not sleep. Overcome by her emotion, +troubled at heart, feverish after her long tramp, +Elise sought in vain for the sleep that eluded her. +Never had her room seemed so lonely, so disquieting +as now. A ray of moonlight, entering through +the window-panes, fell across its shadows.</p> + +<p>At first the melancholy of the night induced wandering +thoughts. Then she gazed at the door and +window, which seemed to vibrate in the trembling +moonlight. Then, as her eyes accustomed themselves +to the shadows, Elise was seized with a sort +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span>of supernatural terror. She was not asleep, but her +open eyes seemed to behold the unreal substance of +dreams.</p> + +<p>“Father, is it you? Father, answer me!”</p> + +<p>She thought herself asleep. It is only in dreams +that one has visions of the dead. She looked all +around the room to be certain that she was actually +awake.</p> + +<p>Yes, she was awake. In the soft light of the +moon she recognized distinctly, one after the other, +familiar objects, just as she had found them on her +return: the little bed where Firmin slept, in the +closet under the garret stairs; the large sideboard, +where, under a glass, was her mother’s marriage +bouquet, a huge rose with gold leaves, and on either +side of it the two candlesticks. Nets and fishing +implements hung on the walls or from the beams of +the ceiling. All these old friends of her past life +she saw clearly, each outline and color distinct.</p> + +<p>No, she was not asleep, but none the less she +could not look toward the door without seeing +before her a face sweet and sad, clear-eyed and +wrinkled.</p> + +<p>“Father, what do you wish?”</p> + +<p>For the first time since she had lost her father +Elise saw him again, just as he was in life, with his +otter hat, his red neckerchief, and his brown shirt. +He complained softly that she had bestowed all her +care on Firmin and had left him, her father, to lie in +the sands at the bottom of the sea. She had not +made every possible effort with the authorities to +have the place dragged, as had been done before, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>so that his body might be recovered and laid in holy +ground, where his soul could rest in peace.</p> + +<p>And he told her punishment. Elise should not +see again the brother whom she had too jealously +loved, until she had earned him by her filial devotion. +Unhappy Elise! She was seated on her bed, +and her two hands stretched toward the spectre, +which would not leave her; she poured out, with all +the confidence of a soul possessed, her excuses, her +promises, her prayers.</p> + +<p>“Father, I swear to you that I will know no rest +until I have laid you beside mother.”</p> + +<p>Then, as if the spectre had moved into the moonlight, +it suddenly became distinct.</p> + +<p>Elise had seen it up to this time only through the +enveloping shadows which softened the rough outlines, +but in this new light the figure seemed drawn +by suffering. The complexion, formerly bronzed +by the sea, was pale, the wrinkles were deep-set, the +cheeks, once so full of laughter and health, were thin +from long agony, and the eyes which a moment ago, +in the shadow, seemed full of a caressing light, were +now sunken and full of reproachful sadness and +melancholy resignation.</p> + +<p>Emaciated, and with face nearly as white as beard +and hair, her father seemed to have arisen from the +sleepless night of a long illness. He could not rest +in his sandy prison under the sea, with its endless +currents, the sport of waves, fought over by sea +monsters. They cannot cry like sea birds, these +voracious dogs of the sea, but their battles are no less +noisy. How could a soul rest in peace among them?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>Elise had noted all the marks of suffering on the +pale face, she had read there all his reproaches. She +knew now too late, that she should, before anything +else, have sought her father’s body, that she might +lay it in consecrated ground.</p> + +<p>“Father, father, I swear to lay you to rest in the +churchyard. And after that you will let me see +Firmin again?”</p> + +<p>And not to delay for a moment the execution of +her oath, Elise put on her dress and went out.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XI.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> night was soft, moonlit, and silent. There +was not a sound in the village, not a breath of air to +awaken the sleeping life. The cock, turning on his +rod at the top of the steeple, did not creak; there +was not the sound of a blind slamming against a +wall; not even the furtive step of a marauding cat. +Nothing could be heard except the rhythmic beating +of the waves on the beach, and very far away on +the heights, in the direction of the graveyard, the +plaintive howlings of a dog, wailing to the dead.</p> + +<p>It must be the captain’s dog. During the fifteen +days that she had been away, Elise had not thought +of her good friend, the shaggy-coated and brave +fellow, who said so many sweet things to her with +his thoughtful eyes. She could hear him still. It +was he, without doubt, but his voice seemed a little +deeper than usual. Why was he howling so dismally, +and so far away? Could he have lost his +master? Elise had returned late the night before.</p> + +<p>She had not heard the news. Could the poor +captain have died?</p> + +<p>The captain enjoyed great consideration in the +village, not only on account of his merit, but on +account of his rank. It is true that he was only an +officer of the coast guards, who had been for a long +time on the retired list, but he was better known +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>than any of the officers of those parts. Eating little +and drinking less, he spent the greater part of his +pension in stuffing with dainties the village children, +and in feeding his dog Barbet, his only friend and +the friend of his whole life.</p> + +<p>For twenty-five years he had lived in close comradeship +with the same dog, this dog who was now +watching on his tomb. The same dog? It was not +possible, at least, to tell when he was changed. His +history was very simple. Like the greater part of +the coast guards, the captain had adopted a dog on +entering the service. The first of the Barbets had +long, coarse hair. One day he had saved the captain +from drowning, and from that time he had +treated him as a brother and faithful companion. +And this friendship had lasted fifteen years; fifteen +years—the life of a dog. Barbet, grown old, had +gently come to his end, but he had left a son as +shaggy as himself, with long hair, always full of +thistle-heads, collected from the hedges. Gentle as +his father, the second of the family had the same +intelligent and kind look, the same affection for his +master. The captain had fed him in the same way, +had taught him in the same way, and had raised him +to the same rank. They were both corporals, the Barbets, +the son as well as the father. On the days of +inspection, before the superior officer who passed +through the town, Barbet advanced at the word of +command, his chevron under his chin, after the +ancient fashion, and a stripe of silver on his legs.</p> + +<p>He was proud of these honors, because he had +earned them by force of application. He knew the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span>drill, but that he considered as nothing. He was +not proud, for all the dogs of the company knew as +much. He had a real cause for pride which no one +could dispute. He had not an equal in recognizing, +at a distance, the boats of his friends.</p> + +<p>From the coast-guard station on the height of the +dune, he could see them as they arrived from sea, +and could distinguish them better than any man or +woman. He announced them after a fashion of his +own, by distinct barks. All the people of the village +had learned to know what the barks meant. +During bad weather, when the women, awaiting the +return of their husbands, could just make out, lost +in the white foam of the sea, a bit of sail above a +black hull, they would consult Barbet. Three barks—it +was the boat of Baptiste Hénin. Elise, while +still a child, on hearing him name her father in this +way, had wept, while her mother, with an eye from +which the fire of anxiety had dried the tears, +watched the strife of the little boat against the +heavy sea.</p> + +<p>No; it is not Hénin’s boat. We can see two +masts. It is the sloop of big Poidevin. Look +again, Barbet. The dog would dilate his nostrils in +the wind. Through his long hair his fawn-colored +eyes would shine like gleaming points. Three barks +again. Yes, it is Hénin’s boat. She comes as if she +were flying; one mast only; Barbet is right. And +when the boat, pitching and rolling through the +tumbling sea, drew near enough to be recognized by +all, then it was that Barbet was triumphant, barking +every time that the hull disappeared in the waves +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>and reappeared on their crest. When, after hours +of anguish, that seemed longer than a whole existence, +the crowd, massed on the dune, finally see the +boat reach the harbor, and are all hurrying to assist +at her arrival, Barbet follows them in their joyful +course. When they arrive at the harbor, he tugs +on the ropes that make her fast, then barks joyfully, +while all the dogs in the town re-echo his cries like +a note of victory.</p> + +<p>All these recollections of her infancy, at the same +time sweet and sad, come back to Elise, while she +stands listening to the howling of Barbet on the +dune. Poor Barbet! He was the third of his race, +still young and strong in proportion. Elise had +known only two of them, but she could not tell +them apart any more than their master could.</p> + +<p>But whether there were one or two, it was always +the same Barbet, simple as a tale, lasting as a tradition. +What was the use of a pedigree in a family +where the descendant was as good as his ancestor, +and when from grandfather to grandson the same +intelligent and kind spirit animated them all under +the same body?</p> + +<p>Barbet ought to know thoroughly the history of +the village. He had brought up all the children, +and it was he who took them to school. He had +learned the hour for going and coming, and he +arrived punctually, in order to watch over them on +the route. He was a strong hand for discipline. +He detested an abuse of power or injustice. It was +a bad day for the older children if they struck the +younger.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span>Barbet’s mission was to look after the children. +He set himself to discharge it, exactly as his master +had taught him. Never would he have permitted +these little shavers, no higher than himself, to go to +school alone. He gathered them into a company +from all sides, their books under their arms, their tin +forks tinkling against the iron plates in their baskets. +Barbet opened his ears at this sound, because his +little friends each kept for him a dainty morsel. It +was the voluntary tithe of the weak to the strong +who protected them. He did not return to the +coast-guard station until after he had seen them +safely home, one after another, down to the last.</p> + +<p>Elise had gone to school with him for a long time. +She was his favorite, and he displayed so much zeal +in her defence that he would show his teeth if any +one even feigned to attack her. She had kept for +him always the most dainty part of her dinner, she +had caressed him with her little hand, she had +looked into his eyes, bending her little cunning head +above him. The little girl and the dog were always +together at playtime. And on the dune they +amused themselves chasing, and playing tag, and +rolling on the sand, or still more often they looked +out over the sea, and played at recognizing the +barks, like two corporals in service.</p> + +<p>Later on, when she had become larger, Elise had +left school. Then she had entrusted Firmin to Barbet. +Unfortunately they were not on good terms. +Firmin did not wish to be looked after, and Barbet +would not relax his duty. So came about difficulties, +which neither the interposition of Elise, nor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>even that of the captain, were able to prevent. +Elise had been troubled by quarrels, which were +renewed every day more fiercely. The boy would +box Barbet’s ears, would pull him by the tail, put +burrs on his head, and in his eyes. The dog, driving +the boy before him by barking and by pretended +bites, would snap at his calves, now right, +now left, and oblige him to march at the end of the +company, like the naughty boy of a class. And +when Barbet brought him home, Elise always found +her brother’s face streaked with tears.</p> + +<p>She comforted the spoiled child, and felt unkindly +toward Barbet for the rough penance which he +inflicted upon the little chap, who was so beautiful +even in his sulkiness. With a burst of maternal +tenderness, she dried his great moist eyes and brown +cheeks, where the tears were still running, and +quieted the last gasp of the little sobbing heart.</p> + +<p>“Do not weep any more, my little man, I will +scold this naughty Barbet.” But Barbet never was +scolded, because he had only done his duty.</p> + +<p>All these details of the time when she had lived +in careless happiness came back to Elise as a consoling +and refreshing thought. She walked slowly +under the soft light, lost in revery, recalling, one by +one, these times of her infancy, so sadly sweet and +so far away. And, losing herself in her memories of +the past, she forgot the hard reality of the present, +and Barbet’s howlings, half heard, seemed like the +echo of forgotten sadness.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>She was recalled to herself on finding that she was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>at the door of a little house just out of the village, +hidden among the trees on the edge of a stream. +She had some difficulty in recalling how and why +she had come there. She was at Silvere’s door.</p> + +<p>But was this a proper time to present herself at +her <i>fiancé’s</i> house? She waited some minutes, and +listened to hear if the church clock would strike, +then impatient of the least delay, she looked at the +moon, and from her height in the heavens, knew +that it was about midnight.</p> + +<p>After all, why should she hesitate? Was not Silvere’s +mother an excellent woman, who would be +happy to receive her in her trouble? All came back +to her. Could she have been so troubled as to forget +already the double task laid on her, that of finding +Firmin and her father? Who would aid her if +not Silvere?</p> + +<p>Again she heard Barbet, who was howling long +and plaintively. It broke her heart. She would +have liked to go to him to protect and console him +in her turn. But if he were in the graveyard, how +could she go there without meeting the ghosts +which dance about the graves?</p> + +<p>And at this baleful thought Elise saw again before +her her father’s spectre, like the ghost of a remorse +which would not leave her. Seized by superstitious +fears, she knocked nervously at the door.</p> + +<p>She waited a long time and exchanged many +words before she succeeded in having it opened. +At last the bolt clicked, the lock turned, the door +swung half open, and in the doorway stood Silvere’s +mother, an old woman with a sharp voice but a kind +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>look. She was only half dressed, and her chemise +only partly concealed her strong shoulders and her +old wrinkled arms.</p> + +<p>“Alas, my poor daughter, what has happened to +bring you out at such an hour? The living do not +walk at night. You must go home.”</p> + +<p>The old woman barred the door with her two +arms, as Elise stood on the sill.</p> + +<p>“Return home, my poor daughter. You seem +like a ghost.” The moon shone fully in the old +woman’s face, but Elise had never seen on her kind +features such an expression of distrust and disquiet. +She was so disturbed that she had hardly strength +to speak.</p> + +<p>“Mother Pilote, I need advice, and I come to ask +it of Silvere. I cannot wait.”</p> + +<p>“Silvere has gone away, my daughter. Fishing +from the beach he found stupid work. The village +was not to his taste after you had gone. He signed +papers with big Poidevin on the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. +He thought that he should see you in the Scotch +seas. He has taken a roundabout way to meet +you.”</p> + +<p>When she heard that her lover was gone, the only +one on whom she could depend, Elise felt as if a +gulf opened before her into which sank her last +hopes. Everything gave way at once, her courage +and her strength. She leaned on the upright of the +door to keep herself from falling, but the old woman, +thinking that she wished to enter, pushed her +firmly but compassionately aside.</p> + +<p>“You must go home, my daughter.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_100a.jpg" width="450" height="710" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">THE OLD WOMAN BARRED THE DOOR WITH HER TWO ARMS + AS ELISE STOOD ON THE SILL.</p> + <p>Chap. 11.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span>From the height of the dune came again Barbet’s +howls. He had stopped from exhaustion, but now +took up again his lugubrious wail, making the night +sorrowful.</p> + +<p>“You hear him,” said the old woman. “He is +possessed. They buried the captain two days ago. +He cannot rest quietly, or Barbet would not bewail +him so loudly. You must go home, my daughter.”</p> + +<p>“Mother Pilote, do not send me away. I do not +dare to go to my house. I have seen the ghost of +my father.”</p> + +<p>The face of the old woman contracted with a +strange look, and her lips moved feverishly. “Go +away, my daughter, you bring bad luck to others. +Last night Florimond returned from his cruise. He +has told everything. You have ruined him. It is +not your fault. Your father’s soul is in torment. +I am afraid for my poor Silvere.”</p> + +<p>“Mother Pilote, listen to me. I have seen the +ghost of my father.”</p> + +<p>“Go away, you bring bad luck!”</p> + +<p>And, as the old woman rudely closed the door, +Elise sank upon the sill, alone in the world, and +overcome by her troubles.</p> + +<p>At that moment Barbet broke the stillness. He +had suddenly stopped howling, and was uttering +short barks that seemed like voices of consolation +and a summons to her to hope.</p> + +<p>“The soul of his master has found repose,” thought +Elise, and raising herself, as if moved by some +strange presentiment, she walked toward the graveyard. +The clock on the tower struck midnight.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Abandoned</span> by the living, Elise turned to the +dead, whose quiet peace seemed to her so sweet. +She reached the graveyard well before the first rays +of the dawn had lightened the eastern sky. It was +still night, but in the half light of the moon there +seemed about her mysterious beings of uncertain +form and colors pale and unreal.</p> + +<p>In climbing the dune Elise had often looked out +toward the open sea to the spot where a murmuring +and a silvery whitening of the waves marked +the shoals. It was there that her father lay with +the others under the treacherous wave. But exactly +where? The shoals were large.</p> + +<p>At the thought of petitioning the administration +and taking the other necessary steps, Elise was +greatly troubled, so afraid was she of the officials. +She had never entered a maritime bureau, and knew, +only by hearsay, that the men whom she would +meet treated the poor harshly. What should she +say to them? That she had seen her father in +bodily presence in the night, and that she had been +bidden to find his body and to lay it to rest in +earth; that she was not rich enough to meet the +expense, and that she had come to beg them to send +divers in order to snatch him from the engulfing +sands.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span>But they would demand the exact spot where he +lay, and her father had not told it. They could not +dig up all the Vergoyer. Surely that was what +they would say. If her father wished to be found, +he must tell where he was.</p> + +<p>Elise wore herself out devising unfeasible plans. +A fancy seized her to run to the wharf, to seize the +first boat she came to, and to sail alone to the Vergoyer. +There she would invoke her father to make +his presence known. She had heard that a little +flame would dance on the water at the spot where a +body lay. But at the thought of seeing this palpitating +soul she was seized with tremors.</p> + +<p>How wretched she was! She was, perhaps, the +only one in the village who had no relatives. All +the other girls, in trouble such as hers, would have +had a grandfather, or an uncle, to help them. +There was no one to help her but Cousin Florimond, +who detested her, and Silvere, her betrothed, +who loved her, but was away.</p> + +<p>Unable to depend on any one, she had gone to the +churchyard to see Barbet, and to pray on the grave +of her mother, where she hoped to find solace for +her sorrows.</p> + +<p>She felt her hand tremble in lifting the latch of +the little gate, and was frightened at the stillness. +The tide was out, and the sea was at peace. Nothing +stirred. There was not a sound of life.</p> + +<p>Barbet had ceased barking. Elise had come in +answer to his call, and now that she was there he +was silent in distrust—he also, as if he were waiting +to see what impious creature dared, at this hour, to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>enter this field of shadows to disturb the sanctity +of their memory.</p> + +<p>She hesitated a long while. She stood with her +fingers on the latch, and did not dare to look +through the bars of the gate into this graveyard, +where, under the trembling moonlight, the wooden +crosses seemed to be joining in a dance of death.</p> + +<p>If Barbet would only howl, would only bark once.</p> + +<p>“Barbet! Barbet!”</p> + +<p>A howl answered her, but more unearthly than +the night, more mysterious than this spirit-filled +space about her. Oh! There were ghosts everywhere!</p> + +<p>Yielding to a wild desire to escape these supernatural +beings, Elise turned and fled. She ran +breathlessly toward the fields. There she was sure +at least of meeting things which were really alive; +trees whose leaves rustled in the breeze, beasts +sleeping an earthly sleep in the fields where they +fed.</p> + +<p>She ran on, terror-stricken, leaping fences and +streams, imagining herself pursued. She seemed to +hear a footstep behind her, and ran more madly still +through the damp meadow-grasses, knee-high, +happy at feeling and touching objects that were +real, at breathing the strong odors that were born of +life. She threw herself into the midst of a herd of +cows who, waking with a start, rose to their knees, +and dropped their heads to face an attack, and, the +danger passed, sunk down again heavily, dropping +off at once into the dreamless sleep of an animal.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_104a.jpg" width="450" height="708" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE QUICKENED HER PACE, PRESSING HER HEAVING CHEST + WITH BOTH HANDS.</p> + <p>Chap. 12.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Elise recovered her calmness in this contact with +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>nature. She had never imagined it so cheering and +so friendly. She had despised the country, for +there all is so pretty, one cannot move without finding +a place of shelter or protection. How different +this from the sea, where one sails for days and +nights without seeing aught but infinite space.</p> + +<p>How sweet the odor of the ripe wheat and the +hops still green, the reflection of the moon in the +pools, the deep shadows of the trees. How willingly +would she lie down there in the long grass.</p> + +<p>But behind her there followed in hot pursuit +something whose form she could not divine. The +cows seemed to look queerly at her as she passed +them. She did not dare to turn, she would die of +fear if she should look behind and see what she +feared. She quickened her pace, pressing her heaving +chest with both hands. She feared to stop, lest +she should find herself face to face with this ghostly +pursuing phantom.</p> + +<p>She hoped for daylight to dissipate her fears, but +the first light of morning had not yet shown when +she sank down breathless and spent, in the midst of +a field. There she lay unconscious, and, worn out +by all she had gone through, fell into a heavy sleep.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The sun was high when she awoke, confused, and +with every fibre relaxed by the healthful rest which +had followed the hours of fever. Her eyes, still +heavy, sought the sun’s brightness, and her pale lips +opened to breathe the pure morning air. She +inhaled sweet odors. Then, as she stretched her +arms to shake off her lassitude, she drew back suddenly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>with a start, for her hand was licked by a +rough, wet tongue. Involuntarily she turned about, +and, recollection coming suddenly, was seized again +with fright and buried her face in her hands.</p> + +<p>But around her, as if that moment he had thrown +off all allegiance to his dead master, Barbet was +dancing gleefully. He poked his nose into her +hands, into her face, her neck, and in a kind of +intoxication of affection and of joyful fidelity, barked +and whined softly, as if he meant to swear everlasting +devotion. He seemed to say to poor Elise that she +ought not to fear or despair, since she had a friend, +a friend older than she, but strong and desirous to +serve her.</p> + +<p>It was not Barbet’s ghost, but Barbet himself, +with real shaggy hair and real barks. It was not a +dream. Happy in the reality, Elise seated herself, +quieted by this unexpected help, and hugging him +in her arms, talked to him: first, of the years that +were gone, and how he had taken care of her, and +afterward the little Firmin, who would doubtless +soon return, self-reliant as ever. And Barbet rubbed +his big head against the heaving breast of his chosen +friend. He looked at her with a steady, friendly +glance, but she in her overflowing happiness kissed +his face; his eyes, that knew so well how to read in +the great book of nature; his nose, whose subtle +keenness found out the meaning of so many hidden +secrets.</p> + +<p>“Barbet, old Barbet. It was you who followed +me. Why did you not let me know it was you?”</p> + +<p>Yes, Barbet had followed her. She alone had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span>power to make him forget his dead master. There +was many a one in the village who would have been +glad to receive him, as a rare legacy, as a traditional +curiosity. The day when his master died they had +dragged him from the coffin, and shut him up in the +coast-guard station of which he had been the pride +so many years. Rather than submit to a new service +he would have let himself die of famine. He +had escaped, and made his way to the grave, where +over the newly turned earth he had bewailed his lost +friend.</p> + +<p>There again they had gone after him. Nowhere +will men willingly lose objects in which they take +pride. Barbet was celebrated on the whole coast +from Dieppe to Boulogne. Could they lose the +glory of their village? But faithful to the captain’s +memory, he had resisted all attempts which had +been made to draw him away. They had given up +their attempts at last. They had not dared to take +him away by force, and on the tomb of the master +whom he did not wish to outlive, he was waiting for +death, when he had scented Elise.</p> + +<p>His old friend, this kind Elise, had come there +in a time of trouble. He saw her climb the dune +alone, without protection or sympathy. Then he +remembered how the captain had loved her, how +she had been kind to the lonely man when alone +and ill in his old age.</p> + +<p>Barbet decided that if his master could speak he +would bid him love Elise, and return her a watchful +affection and vigilant protection for her cares for +him. He had decided to live for her, to whom his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>master would certainly have left him, if death had +not come so suddenly. When she had called him, +he had answered the cry of her heart with an emotion +strong and deep, but she had not understood +and had fled in fright. He had leaped over the wall +and had followed her softly, wishing not to add to +her terror. And now, through his master’s death, +they were to be friends for life.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“You are all dirty, old Barbet,” said Elise suddenly +between two tears, “we shall have to make +our toilet together.” And she led the dog to the +nearest pool.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elise</span> had made her toilet, and Barbet was beautiful +to see as they entered the village together. +But as they passed along the good people drew +aside, and mothers made haste to call their children +into the house. When they reached the Grand +Place they saw groups of sailors and coast guards +talking loudly, and heard the noise of wrangling in +the sailors’ tavern.</p> + +<p>Florimond’s voice was above all others. “She is +a sorceress! She is possessed!”</p> + +<p>Just then a man ran into the tavern, and immediately +the sailors came out on the doorsteps, Florimond +in their midst, crying:</p> + +<p>“Look, Barnabé; do you still persist that I am a +liar? Look at the captain’s ghost walking with +Elise.”</p> + +<p>The sailors of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> were all there, +except the four who had been lost in the small +boat. They had spent the day before in drinking, +had tramped during the night, and had arrived that +morning, crossing the bay at low tide. They had +heard at once the reports in the village, that Elise, +since the death of her father, was possessed, that +she could cast a spell, and that she would be freed +only when her father’s body was recovered.</p> + +<p>Mother Pilote was the cause of all this. Since +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>dawn she had gone from house to house telling of +the visit which Elise had paid her at midnight, the +hour when the dead return to earth again. She had +stopped at one door after another, and had repeated +the same story. If her father had appeared to +demand help, it was without doubt because he had +a sin to expiate. She remembered that once, on a +night in March, her husband had heard in the neighborhood +of the Vergoyer, the groanings of an old +corsair of Berck, who was drowned a few days +before, and whose soul could not rest.</p> + +<p>She was full of laments that her son was betrothed +to Elise. It was too late now to forestall +ill-luck, because Silvere was at sea. Doubtless she +would never see him again. She had done her best +to prevent his sailing. Nothing would keep him +back. And such a fine young fellow, and so good! +He was just twenty-four years old. He could have +passed the examination at Saint-Valery, and become +a pilot, as his father was before him. He need not +have quitted the bay. But young people will not +listen to reason.</p> + +<p>And Silvere’s old mother wept as if her son were +lost to her forever. She was just finishing her doleful +journey through the village, and had appeared on +one side of the Place at the very moment when +Elise, with Barbet, arrived on the other.</p> + +<p>At a glance, Elise had seen that the sailors were +not favorably disposed toward her. Their eyes +were distrustful, and even threatening. She could +not imagine why. On their part, they had no doubt +that the reports were true. Could this Lison have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>been able to handle the boat all alone, if she had +been like other women? Surely, she was possessed. +This was the reason that the small boat had been +lost, with the four men. Their relatives ought to +put on mourning for the whole four. The idea had +gained such credence that Chrétien’s mother, the +wives of the two big fellows, and the children of the +old sailor had not dared to go out without wearing +black.</p> + +<p>Nothing could have now destroyed the widespread +belief in the evil influence of Elise. The +poor child, at the ill-natured looks which greeted +her on all sides, was stirred to her very soul. Just +then she saw Mother Pilote. She ran to her, sure +of a friend and protector. The old woman recoiled +in fright.</p> + +<p>“Alas, my daughter! You have destroyed my +son, do not destroy me, too.”</p> + +<p>The groups of sailors and coast guards had come +close to her. Their noisy talking and their loud +jeers had drawn the people from the neighboring +streets. The whole square was suddenly overrun. +Elise stopped. She did not dare to go on. On the +right were Florimond and his sailors, behind them +groups no less ill-disposed. On the left was the +harbor and the sea; the sea even more treacherous +than men.</p> + +<p>Elise shivered from the soles of her feet to the +roots of her hair. Without knowing why, she saw +that she stood alone, that she was not only abandoned +but repudiated, disgraced, and cast adrift. +This was Florimond’s revenge.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>What could have made the captain so spiteful? +He was gesticulating triumphantly. They knew +now why he had failed in his fishing, lost his nets, +and injured his boat. Could the most skilful captain +have succeeded against the wiles of a sorceress?</p> + +<p>As if to support his charges, Barbet, who had +been walking with ears down and tail between his +legs, suddenly waked up. He made the rounds of +the Place, smelled of the groups, and returned to +Elise with plaintive whines, trying to show his devotion +by licking her hand and by affectionate leaps. +She did not repulse him. Having only one friend, +she could not discourage the expression of his frank +and strong sympathy. She accepted his caresses, +and returned them.</p> + +<p>Encouraged by this, Barbet began to act excitedly. +He ran from group to group, growling and +snarling; then he returned to Elise, good-natured +and full of affection. It was his fashion of showing +these perverse Christians that they were not worth +as much as a dog in divining the tortures of a suffering +soul. One would have said that he took pleasure +in his own performance, for becoming more and +more excited, he went through it a hundred times, +more and more feverishly, contorting himself until +he leaped about like a crazy dog.</p> + +<p>From different sides of the Place came the same +shouts.</p> + +<p>“They are possessed, both of them! Let us kill +them!”</p> + +<p>“They will bring sickness on the village!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>“They will shipwreck our boats!”</p> + +<p>“They must die!” Some of the most drunken +sailors began to throw stones. Barbet was struck +first. He ran to Elise without a cry. He raised +himself on his hind legs, and laid against her breast +his wounded foot.</p> + +<p>The violence of the assailants was increased by +the quiet of the victims. The people of the village, +full of senseless superstitions, began also to throw +stones as if to quiet their fears by the punishment +of these two innocent creatures, whom they foolishly +suspected of possessing evil power.</p> + +<p>Elise wept and made no attempt to defend herself. +She was self-accused. It seemed to her that +she was expiating the filial neglect for which her +father’s spectre had reproached her. She believed +now that she understood why all these people were +against her; they punished her as an impious +daughter, who had no thought for her father’s eternal +welfare.</p> + +<p>But why were they so furious at her only, when +so many besides her had, without disquiet, left the +souls of their shipwrecked relatives in pain. She +recognized many of them among those most furious +toward her. There was the sister of the lame man, +the sons of friend Joseph, the mother of Amadée. +They had taken no steps to find their bodies. This +ought to hinder them from attacking her, as if they +had clear consciences. Their dead, too, were not to +be compared with her father. Poor father! He was +so honest. She ought to have tried to recover him, +if she had had to dig the Vergoyer all alone. And +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>waiting in silence her time of deliverance, she gave +herself up to martyrdom.</p> + +<p>But she was not able to keep back a cry of pain +when a stone struck her near the eye. Instantly +there was an angry snarl, and Barbet flew at the +most active sailor, biting him in the leg. The fellow +dropped in terror, frightened for his life. The dog +was surely possessed; his bites would kill.</p> + +<p>There was a wild panic over the whole Place. +Barbet returned to the attack, showing his teeth. +The sailors abandoned their comrade, tumbling over +one another into the tavern, crushing against the +door-posts in spite of Florimond, who, to show his +courage, shouted:</p> + +<p>“You run like crabs before a dog.”</p> + +<p>And he kicked at Barbet, who snarled at him +most threateningly.</p> + +<p>“Florimond, do not be so rash. It is foolish to +brave the spirits of the dead.”</p> + +<p>And the man, who from the other side of the +Place shouted this out, took to flight with all his +companions. Florimond had a little sense. He +did not believe in these ideas of the dead returning.</p> + +<p>“Pack of old women, just wait and see how I +send Barbet off. If he has the devil in his mouth, +I will make him swallow him.”</p> + +<p>He strode forward to kick with his heavy boot +this demon of a dog. A fresh snarl, longer, sharper, +harsher, stopped him—a snarl so deep and unearthly +that the last of the spectators took flight, and, +panic-stricken himself, Florimond bolted into the +tavern.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>Then, with the Place all to themselves, Elise and +Barbet looked at each other, half frightened at finding +themselves alone.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The man who had been bitten lay still. The skin +had not been broken, but he imagined that he felt +in his flesh the cold fangs of this dog of hell. He +lay at length, like a child who has been stunned by +a fall.</p> + +<p>Elise went over to him, and rousing him, by a +light tap on the shoulder, raised him up. On his +face the traces of his fright were still evident.</p> + +<p>“You, Barnabé? Have you, too, turned against +me?”</p> + +<p>“It is the fault of drink, Mam’selle Elise. I had +my little glass to celebrate my return. The sailors +have fuddled their brains with these old wives’ +stories. All the same one doesn’t know whether +they are true or not.”</p> + +<p>Elise did not wish to hear, but Barnabé began at +once to repeat them. As clearly as he could he told +how Mother Pilote’s gossip had made them believe +that the ghost of Father Hénin walked at night. +She had accused Elise of witchcraft, and of being +supernaturally possessed.</p> + +<p>But all was very confused in his mind. Nowadays +such ideas are no longer the fashion, and he +was not familiar with them. He hastened to say: +“I do not believe them at all, Mam’selle Elise. +Forgive me; it was the fault of the drink.”</p> + +<p>In token of forgiveness Elise held out her hand +to Barnabé, but he was still a little disquieted. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>Occasionally he would throw a glance toward the +tavern, as if at a place of refuge. She took pity on +him.</p> + +<p>“You are not afraid of me, I suppose, Barnabé? +I never have done you any harm, and never would.”</p> + +<p>“I do not distrust you at all, Mam’selle Elise, but +Barbet has sharp teeth.”</p> + +<p>As if to answer to his name, the dog stepped forward. +He smelled of Barnabé, scowled, wrinkled +his nose disdainfully, and returning to Elise hid his +head in a fold of her dress.</p> + +<p>“Barbet, I do not like dogs with bad manners. +You will not regain in that way the confidence +which we have lost.”</p> + +<p>She took with both hands his kind, hairy face, and +made him bark his excuses.</p> + +<p>“Pat him, Barnabé; he will not bear you ill-will +after this. He has as much sense as men, but he is +better than they are.” And a treaty of peace was +concluded then and there between Barbet and Barnabé.</p> + +<p>In the bottom of his heart, Barnabé was much +ashamed at having shown himself a coward without +any cause. While he was on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> he +had lost his former free ways and his rough eloquence. +Florimond had intimidated him. He did +not fancy facing the broad-shouldered captain. +Fortunately, on land Florimond was no longer his +master, and Barnabé only wanted an opportunity to +recover his former position.</p> + +<p>“Mam’selle Elise, if you do not bear ill-will, I will +be your friend again.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>“Why not? Ought I to feel harshly toward you +because of other people’s faults? You know that I +do not bring bad luck.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, Mam’selle Elise, I do not believe any of +these stories about the devil which they tell of you. +They are old wives’ fables. If you will let me, I +will defend you against the sailors.”</p> + +<p>Barbet interposed. He seemed to say that it was +he who was her true protector, and that he would +not allow others to take his place, but Elise quieted +him with a caress, and turned to Barnabé.</p> + +<p>“I shall be glad of your help. I must go to the +officials at Saint-Valery, and you can keep me company. +A woman does not dare to speak, and you +are an orator.”</p> + +<p>Then they agreed on the time for starting. The +bay would be dry before noon. They would have +time to go and return before high tide. They were +turning to go home to make ready for the trip, +when the door of the tavern opened.</p> + +<p>A sailor held it ajar to watch Elise. He had +seen her talking with Barnabé, and the fact had +reassured him. Should a sailor be less courageous +than a landlubber? He came out at once, with his +comrades at his heels.</p> + +<p>When they were sure that Barbet was harmless, +as well as Elise, they joked after the fashion of +cowards, who think they can save their dignity by +jibes. Their coarse jests fell more thickly than +their stones had a little while before.</p> + +<p>“She will be well protected, this Lison, by two +strong jaws, Barbet’s and Barnabé’s;” and they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>kept playing on these two names, and went away +exclaiming:</p> + +<p>“Barbet and Barnabé; one as much a dog as the +other. Barbet and Barnabé! two barkers and two +landlubbers!”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIV.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> village had fallen back into its accustomed +quiet, when Elise and Barnabé set out barefoot +across the sands of the bay.</p> + +<p>Barbet followed them joyfully. He seemed to +have been born again to a new youth, and was thoroughly +frivolous. He tossed the crabs in air with +his nose, he made the flocks of sea-gulls take wing, +he leaped over the streams, and splashed through +the pools as if he thoroughly enjoyed this clear and +beautiful July day.</p> + +<p>In honor of his new mistress he had forgotten his +daily duties and played truant, while the village +children, left without their guard, quarrelled and pilfered +along the road to school.</p> + +<p>If he could have seen his company of scholars, +some in tears, others rolling in the dust, their hats +dusty, their aprons torn, and their baskets upset in +the brook, he would have been proud. During the +three days since he left the service, the road to +school was nothing but a field of battle. Henceforth +they would know in the village what he was +worth.</p> + +<p>But this was not the time for serious reflections. +Barbet gave himself up to pleasure, for he had +caught a smile on his mistress’ face, and that showed +him that she was happy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>As a matter of fact, Elise had a strange pleasure +in setting out for the Maritime Bureau. It seemed +to her that she was beginning the task of reparation +which had been imposed on her, and a feeling of +contentment and peace overflowed her.</p> + +<p>She was not at all deceived about Barnabé. She +knew him to be a braggart, of no principle, but in +spite of all she was glad to have him for a guide, +and above all for a mouthpiece. At times, carried +away by his desire to be useful, he made certain +suggestions that made her uneasy.</p> + +<p>“Have no fears, Mam’selle Elise. These scribblers, +all put together, are not worth one good +sailor. They must be spoken to firmly. So much +the worse for timid folk, if they revenge themselves +on them afterward.”</p> + +<p>Elise had no idea that she would succeed through +her companion’s bravado. All along the way she +reasoned with him, and explained the object of the +call. She asked that he would repeat to her, as +they talked together, the remarks he proposed to +make. And while he went complaisantly over his +lesson, she corrected him and softened every violent +expression. But he came back always to the same +idea.</p> + +<p>“We shall lose everything if we let them treat +us with insolence, as they do others.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Barnabé; I think that we shall gain more +by talking quietly.”</p> + +<p>“No, Mam’selle Elise; allow me to say, it is necessary +to make a heavy shift of the helm to make +the ship come about promptly.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>Elise began to regret that she had asked such +help. Her cheeks were red and her heart beat +quickly, when she entered the Bureau by the side +of Barnabé. She threw about her an uneasy look, +as if to make certain that Barbet at least had not +forsaken her. He was there, sober and faithful.</p> + +<p>The room which they entered was lighted by +one low window at the further end. It was divided +across its whole width by a railing the height of the +elbow, behind which, on a large table, was a huge +pile of boxes, books, and documents.</p> + +<p>The air was damp and mouldy. The walls were +stained in spots by moisture, and the pigeon-holes +were black from dampness. Everything seemed +unhealthy.</p> + +<p>Elise had too respectful an idea of the Bureau to +note these signs of age. She had not dared to +enter, but stood waiting on the sill, holding the door +open. She started at the sound of a harsh voice, +which appeared to come from under the table.</p> + +<p>“Shut the door there. You let the heat in.”</p> + +<p>Then in a surly tone:</p> + +<p>“They’re all stupid alike.”</p> + +<p>Barnabé was just about to launch into his first +burst of eloquence. He stopped short, and turned +suddenly to Elise:</p> + +<p>“Come into the room. You will shipwreck +everything.”</p> + +<p>Timidly and softly, Elise stepped forward just far +enough to allow the door to be shut behind her. +Barnabé began in a low tone and a trembling voice. +The beautiful, sonorous sentences which he had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>planned died away on his lips. The wretched appearance +of the room, and its mouldy odor, were so +little stimulating to the development of a brilliant +and pompous speech that he lost the thread of his +oration. For lack of anything better he said simply:</p> + +<p>“We have come about the soul of Father Hénin.”</p> + +<p>“That is a matter for the Church. You should +not come to the commissaire when you need a +priest.”</p> + +<p>Then Barnabé began:</p> + +<p>“We have come hither, together——”</p> + +<p>“There are two of you, then? Let the other one +step forward.”</p> + +<p>Elise advanced to the railing. Behind the boxes +she saw, nearly hidden from sight, a little hunchback, +who, with his back toward them, was nibbling +a crust of bread, while he read his newspaper.</p> + +<p>Elise had anticipated an impertinent reception, +and to her it seemed to increase the clerk’s importance. +But Barnabé was not so complaisant. He +had promised himself to be magnificent before +Elise, and not to allow himself to be treated as a +common sailor. But from the feeling of respect +which the sailor has for officials he still kept himself +in check, and simply raised his voice:</p> + +<p>“It is your affair, this matter of Father Hénin.”</p> + +<p>“What affair? Explain yourself, if you want to +be understood.”</p> + +<p>“The affair of his ghost, which walks because he +is at the bottom of the Vergoyer.”</p> + +<p>From the desk came a growl:</p> + +<p>“What idiots!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span>Then all moderation forsook Barnabé. He could +think of nothing but insults, which he was about to +rain upon the hunchback.</p> + +<p>“You crooked——”</p> + +<p>With a look Elise stopped him. Leaning on the +railing, she fixed on him a look both serious and +friendly, as if she wished to inspire him with all her +confidence. In the half light her pure profile, with +its somewhat heavy lines, was softened, and she +seemed wrapped in a natural grace and delicacy. +Under the influence of her suppliant beauty, Barnabé +turned over and over his ideas, without finding +any which appeared to him likely to meet with the +clerk’s favor.</p> + +<p>A strange clerk this! He kept his face always +out of sight, supported on his elbow, and turned his +curious hump toward all inquirers. It was a piece +of affectation on his part. Not being able to domineer +by his size over the people who came to his +office, he had hit upon this attitude of contemptuous +indifference. In this way he tried to revenge +himself for his disgrace upon those more favored of +fortune.</p> + +<p>He had a way of disconcerting sailors, for they, +more than all others, are outspoken men, and +become embarrassed when they cannot meet one +face to face and eye to eye. He made them, as it +were, talk to his hump, and he moved it about at +them cunningly so as to throw them into confusion, +when he saw that they were well under way with +their statements.</p> + +<p>Elise herself was not able to avoid its strange +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span>attraction. She stopped looking at Barnabé in +order to look at this strange clerk, and, moved by +fear as much as by compassion, kept her eyes fixed +on his pitiful and threatening back. It seemed to +her that the fate of her request was written on this +deformity if she could only decipher it. She tried +to read a favorable response.</p> + +<p>“It is your——” said Barnabé for the third time. +He did not finish his phrase. He could not restrain +his impatience to see at least the nose of this +man.</p> + +<p>He added brutally:</p> + +<p>“Have you not another side that speaks also? +Are you like one of those round beasts who have no +face?”</p> + +<p>The head of the clerk disappeared entirely behind +his hump. Barbet, who up to this time had been +silent and respectful, stood up, with his fore feet on +the railing. He proposed to take part in the debate, +and since the interests of his mistress were +under discussion he wished it to be known that he +had the right to interpose. He was no more +pleased than Barnabé to see a hump in place of the +face which he expected, and he expressed his disapprobation +by surly barks.</p> + +<p>The clerk turned about suddenly. He appeared +frightened. His long, bony face was pale, and here +and there were what seemed like dark stains. His +eye was that of a sick man, and his face expressed +sadness more than ill-will.</p> + +<p>At the sight of Elise he appeared abashed, rose +to his feet, laid aside the crust of bread, shook off +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>the crumbs which lay on his chest, ran his fingers +through his hair, and took a hurried look at a bit of +mirror propped up between two boxes. He forgot +all about complaining of the dog, and said with his +best smile:</p> + +<p>“Mademoiselle, I am entirely at your service. I +did not suspect that this snip of a sailor had such +charming company. These deck-scourers do not +know how to explain anything.”</p> + +<p>“Deck-scourers! I’ll scour your hump!”</p> + +<p>And Barnabé reached out his hand. Elise +stopped him. She saw that all hope for her was +lost, if she did not take the matter into her own hands. +Since she had entered the office she had been making +up her mind not to leave until she had gained +what she came for. She shook off her indecision +and raised her head, resolute and firm.</p> + +<p>The little clerk was disturbed under his hump. +He rubbed together nervously his thin, knotty +hands, and with an air of obsequious gallantry, trying +to make his sharp voice as pleasant as possible, +renewed his offer of his services.</p> + +<p>“You injure your cause by not explaining it yourself, +mademoiselle. Your sailor——”</p> + +<p>“Present! the sailor!” cried Barnabé, happy to +find a chance to put in a word. “I will tell the +whole affair. I have no fancy to come here like a +ship’s boy, and watch others work the ship.”</p> + +<p>He looked at the clerk angrily. He seemed to +throw defiance at this chicken-breasted wretch, who +made himself agreeable to ladies, preening like a +turtle dove. But the hunchback turned from him, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>showing Barnabé the outline of his crooked back, +which he worked at him contemptuously. Barbet +was out of patience. Standing on his hind legs he +bristled up his hair and moved his tail, now slowly, +now excitedly, according to the state of his feelings.</p> + +<p>Elise saw that all this boded no good to her cause.</p> + +<p>“I pray you,” she said to Barnabé, “let me speak. +It was I who saw my father, and I know better +what he demanded.”</p> + +<p>The clerk threw at her a glance of intelligence.</p> + +<p>“Yes, mademoiselle, speak. The sound of your +voice will make amends to me for having heard these +barkings.”</p> + +<p>“Does Barbet trouble you, sir? I will make him +go out if you wish.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, and the other dog with him——”</p> + +<p>He had not finished the sentence when Barnabé, +seizing Barbet by the back, tried to lift him over +the railing.</p> + +<p>“Eat the hunchback! bite him! bite him!”</p> + +<p>Barbet struggled, refusing to lend himself to such +unjust reprisals. Barnabé dropped him, and deciding +to take vengeance in his own person struck out +with his fist, and the clerk rolled over and over on +the floor, uttering sharp cries.</p> + +<p>Immediately from the next room there appeared +a man in tightly buttoned overcoat and silver-laced +hat. He was dressed exactly as the official whom +Elise had seen on the deck of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> at +Treport. He was the under-commissaire, and appeared +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>to uphold the dignity of his office. With a +glance of his eye he saw what had happened, and +stiffly, and as if wishing to avoid any explanation, +gave out the order:</p> + +<p>“M. Emile, you will be good enough to have a +placard fastened to the door—Dogs not admitted. +Turn these people out.”</p> + +<p>Without waiting to hear more, Barnabé took +flight. But Elise could not resign herself to see all +her hopes disappear on account of such a ridiculous +incident. She lifted her great black eyes to the +commissaire, sweetly suppliant:</p> + +<p>“Sir, I have seen my father’s ghost. He was +drowned at the Vergoyer. He demands that his +body be found. You have men to do such +work.”</p> + +<p>The hunchback was still groaning. In his fall he +had overturned his chair, and most unhappily +caught his hump between the four legs. He was +unable to free himself. The commissaire acted as +if he did not see him:</p> + +<p>“Well, M. Emile, why do you not send these people +away?”</p> + +<p>“You are not listening to me,” cried Elise. “I +have seen my father’s ghost. He cannot rest in the +sea sands——”</p> + +<p>“Go out——”</p> + +<p>And the under-commissaire pointed so severely at +the door, that Elise went in tears and despair. She +was nearly overturned on the sill by Barbet who, +rushing out, nearly tripped her up, so that she lost +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>the consolation of hearing the chief in a low tone +reprimand his clerk.</p> + +<p>“I have been hoping you would have a lesson like +this for a long time. I don’t pity you in the least. +He who sows the wind must expect to reap the +whirlwind.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_128a.jpg" width="450" height="700" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">THE NEXT NIGHT, ELISE SAW HER FATHER AGAIN.</p> + <p>Chap. 15.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XV.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> next night Elise saw her father again, and +the next night, and many nights after that.</p> + +<p>“Father,” she cried in vain, “tell me where you +lie. I can then let the officials know. Help me, if +you wish to be found.”</p> + +<p>The nights passed, but no answer came. Only +by sad looks did her father plead his cause. He +never spoke. It was a constant grief to Elise, and, +exhausted by waiting and watching, she, too, lost +the power of sleep. She hid her head under her +pillows to escape the ghost, and made Barbet sleep +at her feet, hoping to gain a little rest from the +presence of this loving creature.</p> + +<p>Always the same restlessness and the same sleeplessness, +recalling to mind the duty she could not +perform, the undeserved punishment she suffered, +the insults which the men of the village offered her, +and above all, Firmin, who had not come home.</p> + +<p>After many dispatches had passed, they had +finally learned about Firmin, and the <i>flambart</i> which +had carried him off.</p> + +<p>She had tried at first to reach her port, but had +to abandon the attempt. Her hull had been badly +damaged, and she had barely been able to make a +Scotch port, after throwing overboard everything—nets, +salt, and supplies. She had towed her boat in +order to save it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>The sight of the boat had been too much for Firmin. +With his usual obstinacy, the boy had made +up his mind that he would not submit to this +forced sojourn among strangers. And one night he +had made his escape nearly without provisions. He +had slipped into the boat, and cutting the rope, had +gone adrift, one hardly knew with what in mind. +The crew had discovered his flight at daybreak +only.</p> + +<p>Since then there had been no news of him. What +daring and what resolution he had, to trust himself +to a small boat on an unknown sea. Elise wept at +the very idea, but it was more from pride than +despair. She was proud to know that the boy was +so courageous. She was sure he would return. He +was always present in her thoughts; she would +surely see him again when she had atoned for her +neglect of her father.</p> + +<p>She worked without stopping. Twenty days in +succession she went to the Bureau at Saint-Valery. +During the few moments that she had spoken to +the under-commissaire she had detected under his +gruffness an indulgent and generous nature, and to +this she resolved to appeal. But she had not as yet +made any headway.</p> + +<p>At first she had had to face the mortification of +the hunchback. When by patience she had won +him over, so as to be permitted to enter the chief’s +office, she met fresh difficulties.</p> + +<p>She recounted to him the nightly apparition of +her father and the orders which he had given her. +He heard her with the distrust which one shows to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>lunatics. He did not speak harshly, on the contrary, +he bowed her out pleasantly so as not to +excite the mental troubles with which he supposed +her afflicted. The next day she was back again +with the same fixed purpose, and as he sent her +away he pitied her from the bottom of his +heart.</p> + +<p>Each day it was the same. The commissaire had +finally refused to allow her entrance. He found +Elise on the threshold. He shrugged his shoulders +pityingly. She attached herself to him, followed +him through the town, and held him a long time at +the door of his house. He put her off, as he best +could, with evasive answers. At last he grew impatient, +was rude, and even pushed her aside.</p> + +<p>Nothing discouraged her. Her indomitable resolution +had won over the little clerk, who perhaps +was not angry to see his chief in the hands of a +petitioner with so much persistence.</p> + +<p>“Return to-morrow,” he said to her every night, +after a fresh failure. “Keep on returning. He will +yield in the end.”</p> + +<p>She did return. She began to be well known on +the Place of Saint-Valery. The idlers watched for +her coming and going. In the sailors’ quarter there +was great interest. Bets were made as to which of +the two, the girl or the commissaire, would carry +the day.</p> + +<p>He could not contain himself longer. He threatened +to bring the <i>gendarmes</i> and to protect himself, +if necessary, by the law. Elise was only more +active.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>“Return to-morrow,” the little hunchback kept +saying to her.</p> + +<p>She did return. She found this daily walk across +the bay, to which she had become accustomed, a sort +of healthful activity. She was not tired herself, but +she tired out the commissaire, who, to get rid of +her, finally consented to take the necessary first +steps.</p> + +<p>He demanded that she should draw up a petition +to the minister.</p> + +<p>Elise could write, but she felt that she knew too +little for so important a matter. She went to the +schoolmaster, but he refused to write of ghosts. +Then she consulted the corporal of the coast guards, +and got from him a letter to her own mind, which +with great delight she carried to the commissaire. +He refused to send it. The minister would burst +out laughing at these stories of phantoms.</p> + +<p>She would not give up. She sought the aid of +the notary, who drew up for her a four page petition +in beautiful style. She was not able to understand +the big words and pompous phrases. They +were too grand for simple ears. But four pages—that +was certainly better than one, and this time the +commissaire would have nothing to say.</p> + +<p>Cheered by this thought, Elise quickened her +steps over the sands of the bay. She had the new +petition in her pocket, carefully wrapped in a clean +handkerchief, to keep the paper from being rubbed +or spotted. At intervals she touched it with the +tips of her fingers, to be sure that the four pages +had not flown away in the wind.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>Four pages! That alone gave her confidence. +Certain of success she entered the Bureau almost +haughtily, and marched gayly to her friend, the +little hunchback:</p> + +<p>“I am sure that your chief will be satisfied now.”</p> + +<p>She untied the handkerchief and carefully drew +out the petition, asking him to read it. While he +ran through the lines she watched him anxiously, to +judge of the impression it made. He nodded his +head, and his eyes, slanting over the paper, lightened +with gleams which gave them a malicious +vivacity. Elise thought that she detected a kind of +satisfied approbation.</p> + +<p>“It is splendid, is it not?”</p> + +<p>“Splendid, no! It is a pity that you have been +so poorly advised.”</p> + +<p>Elise was discouraged, but went to the commissaire. +He took the paper, opened, and returned it.</p> + +<p>“Four pages, my daughter, at least three too +many. A half page was enough, provided it was +well done.”</p> + +<p>He held out the paper. Elise had not the +strength to take it. He saw her become suddenly +pale, and reproached himself for having been so +brusque. He spoke more pleasantly:</p> + +<p>“Petitions, you know, are just like prayers. The +shorter they are the better.”</p> + +<p>Then he waved his hand toward the door, politely +but significantly. Elise did not move from her +chair. He looked at her. She was fainting. He +waited impatiently a moment, then rang with all his +might for his clerk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>“M. Emile, take the young girl away.”</p> + +<p>The clerk had run in half frightened. His eyes +moved from Elise to the commissaire, as if to ask if +one had really called him for such a purpose.</p> + +<p>“Make haste, M. Emile, take her away. Draw +up her petition and let us have an end of her.”</p> + +<p>Then, as well as his feeble strength would permit, +the little clerk raised Elise and led her into his +room. He moistened her forehead with fresh water +and brought her to herself by his delicate attentions +and his kind words. He was gentle and tender. +One would have said that he was delighted to assist +a creature weaker than himself, to find at last a +chance to do something worthy of a man.</p> + +<p>When Elise was herself again, he made her sit by +his table, wrote out a beautiful petition on a large +sheet of paper, and guided her hand while she +signed her name in the right place.</p> + +<p>He was not so ugly after all, this little clerk with +his playful hump. Elise was touched when, after +wiping his damp fingers, he took the paper by the +corners, folded it delicately, and with much care +addressed it.</p> + +<p>When she saw the name of the minister beautifully +written on the back of the envelope Elise was +taken with a childish joy, as if at last she held +a talisman which would deliver her from her +troubles.</p> + +<p>“How beautiful it is, M. Emile. I am sure no one +can write as you can.”</p> + +<p>Under the charm of this flattery the little clerk +became genial. Whistling and thoroughly pleased +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>with himself he held out his knotty hand to Elise, +who took it affectionately:</p> + +<p>“Come again to-morrow, mademoiselle.”</p> + +<p>Elise had returned, imagining that she would +already find the reply to her petition. She had no +idea of the delays and formalities necessary in government +affairs.</p> + +<p>She grew pale again, and was quite upset when +the commissaire explained to her the course which +her petition must follow. First it must go to the +Commissaire of Marines at Dunkirk, then to the +Minister at Paris, then to the Maritime Prefect at +Cherbourg, delayed, perhaps often, between the +three places.</p> + +<p>She went away, more troubled and more discouraged +than before her petition was written.</p> + +<p>If only Silvere were here. She would take him, +and go even to Paris, and would not fear to speak +herself to the minister. But Silvere had not +returned.</p> + +<p>He had gone for a cruise of four weeks, and now +six weeks had passed. As a matter of fact, a boat +never comes as soon as those who watch for her +hope, for there are endless ways to lose time at sea. +Captains have often come in months after all hope +of them had been given up.</p> + +<p>The longer Silvere’s return was delayed, the more +ill-natured were the people of the village to Elise. +They never came near her; she even had trouble in +persuading the baker to sell her bread. The children +made sport of her. They pushed one another +against her, then made faces and ran away as if +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>from an evil thing. In old times they had hung +about her in a very different fashion. They were +all friends of Firmin. She had let them play in her +father’s boat, had given them fish on the return +from each trip; they all loved her then. In memory +of those days she forgave them; but Barbet did not.</p> + +<p>He had given up entirely his old habits and +refused to take the children to school. He had +now a more lofty idea of duty and kept all his time +and all his devotion for his adopted mistress.</p> + +<p>This caused new complaints against Elise. Was +it to be borne that a young girl should keep to herself +a dog that belonged to the whole village? +Ought Barbet, who for thirty-five years had not +failed for a single day at his task, to now go back +on all his old friends, in order to trot behind the +petticoats of a beggar? He was growing thin, and +it served him right.</p> + +<p>For, although she denied herself, Elise was not +able to feed Barbet as he had been used. Like his +mistress, he lived on bread and water only. He did +not complain; he preferred an approving heart to a +full stomach.</p> + +<p>But sometimes hunger made him a little cross, +and the night before he had not been able to restrain +his injured feelings. When the mocking children +pushed themselves against Elise, he had seized one +by the throat and half strangled him. Until this +time he had driven off the most mischievous by +snapping at them as a collie snaps at his sheep, but +now, to put an end once for all to these rude jests, +he had bitten in earnest.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>By a strange coincidence the boy whom he had +seized was named Silvere, and all the village was in +an uproar. Did any one need further proof that +Silvere had perished, a victim of Elise’s malign +influence? Barbet told the truth after his fashion. +The big Silvere! Such a good fellow he was, so +kind to his mother. Poor Mother Pilote! Her +head was always full of fancies, and this last excitement +had almost upset her mind. Whenever she +went out she carried a bottle of holy water, with +which she sprinkled the roads to drive away spirits +from her path.</p> + +<p>All these troubles were charged to Elise, but +though the whole village condemned her with one +voice, she did not lose her faith in the future.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVI.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">She</span> had none the less an hour of weakness the +night that the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> went to sea again, after +more than a month in the ship-yard. Newly rigged +and freshly painted for her cruise, she had returned +three days before from Treport and lay alongside +the quay ready to make sail for the autumn fishing. +It was the longest cruise of the year and they hoped +on it to make up for the losses of the summer.</p> + +<p>It was the second week of August. The sea +stretched away like a cloth of gold with silvery +lights under a rosy sky crossed with ribbons of blue. +Nothing was so beautiful as this great, grand calm, +flooded with a wealth of sunlight, and the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +seemed as if about to start toward regions +of peace and rest. But the sky troubled Florimond. +There were indications of rough weather toward +the north. What should he do? After losing so +many weeks should he waste more days? This was +the time of the year for bad weather. He who +follows the sea has a rough trade.</p> + +<p>So the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> set out, gliding over the +tranquil sea so quietly that she seemed not to have +waited for night to go to sleep. Florimond was at +the helm, always imposing with his great figure, +always impressive as he gave out his orders in his +deep voice.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>From the height of the dune, Elise, broken-hearted, +watched the boat. She remembered when +the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> had sailed before, and how full of +hope she had been, and how in those days Cousin +Florimond had been good to her. If everything +had changed it was because of bad luck. That alone +had made him unjust.</p> + +<p>Then the night enveloped with its healthful peace +men and things alike. The <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> was still in +the channel. There was so little breeze that she +moved slowly as if to show those on shore her grief +at leaving them behind.</p> + +<p>They are off, without Firmin or without me, +thought Elise, and they do not regret us.</p> + +<p>She was mistaken. As he stood at the helm, +steering, Florimond was thinking of her. He said +to himself that he should not now have an excuse +for any further lack of success, that the sky was not +over-promising, and that after all he owed his bad +luck to the weather and not to Elise. At the bottom +of his heart he was really ashamed to have been +so hard and not to have at least given this innocent +girl the pleasure of a farewell. And as it was now +too late to do anything, he grew remorseful and, +after the fashion of sailors, who expect always to be +punished for their faults, was attacked by vague +terrors.</p> + +<p>Then night came. It wrapped him about—a +night without a moon, of a deep blue, broken only +by the glare of the lighthouses which protected the +bay. A lantern was lighted in the bow of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. +One could see it occasionally as the boat +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>tacked, then, it too disappeared. When she could +see it no longer Elise burst into tears. Her loneliness +seemed more lonely than ever, her lot more sad. +Henceforth she would have hard work to live, for +the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> had carried off her last dependence—her +part of the nets.</p> + +<p>It had not been difficult for Florimond to obtain +from the owner of the <i>flambart</i> a sum large enough +to allow him to buy back for the men and himself a +complete outfit of nets. He had appropriated the +part he should have accounted for to Elise. He +claimed that they were due him as indemnity for +the losses for which he held the poor child responsible.</p> + +<p>Elise had nothing else in the world except her +house. But if she had had the chance to sell that, +she would have refused. The house had been built +by her grandfather, and lived in by her father. She +destined it for Firmin, the last of the name, for +Firmin, for whose return she was waiting and +watching.</p> + +<p>In an open boat, alone, exposed to storms, how +could this weak boy have resisted seas which engulf +the strongest? Without doubt he had gone down, +with a last cry to his sister, into some frightful +abyss where he would be tossed about for all +eternity. If the boy was with his father why should +Elise still remain in this world of trouble, unhappy, +always alone, with death in her heart?</p> + +<p>Was it so difficult to die? It would take only a +few seconds to descend the dune. One had only to +run to the sea, to close the eyes and walk into the +waves, persisting until there came the final oblivion. +Every one in the village would rejoice; perhaps +then Florimond would forgive her.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_140a.jpg" width="450" height="707" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE WOULD SEE AGAIN THOSE SHE LOVED.</p> + <p>Chap. 16.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span>Half conscious only of what she was doing, and +almost delirious, Elise hurried where the voice of +the waves called her, a voice that dulled her reason. +Lost in her frenzy, she struggled across the sand, +into which her feet sank as if it strove to hold her +back in spite of herself. With tottering steps she +reached the water’s edge.</p> + +<p>Since the land would have none of her she would +trust herself to the sea. She forgot the insults of +the villagers; she would have liked to have said +farewell to the little hunchback, to Barnabé even, +to Mother Pilote, the poor woman who through +ignorance had made her so much trouble. She +would have liked above all to have left a last message +for Florimond, that he should not revile her +when she was gone. Had she not a right, since she +was dying innocent of any crime, to have her memory +at least left in peace?</p> + +<p>She felt the water already about her knees. She +would see again those she loved—her father, Firmin, +Silvere, the men in the boat, Chrétien, the two big +fellows, and the old sailor.</p> + +<p>They were all there together in that bed of the +tempest. She saw them, she spoke to them, gasping +and shivering. Her father, Firmin, Silvere, +Chrétien; they were all there. She stretched +out her arms to them as she ran into the +waves.</p> + +<p>“Father, come and take me—I cannot move. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>Father! Some one stops me—I cannot move! I +cannot move!”</p> + +<p>In vain did Elise try to escape from the force +which held her. She tried to throw herself forward +with all her might. She was pulled backward firmly.</p> + +<p>“Something has seized my dress! It is dragging +me away from you. Father, Firmin!”</p> + +<p>She was drawn steadily back. She caught her +feet in the folds of her skirts. She fell. She was +on the beach.</p> + +<p>Do not weep, Elise, do not weep! You shall see +them all again, Silvere, your father, Chrétien, and +your Firmin whom you so love. You shall see them +all, it is Barbet who tells you so.</p> + +<p>You forgot him, Elise, your faithful Barbet, but +he would not let you die. It was he who followed +you, sad and silent. When he realized what you +were about to do he dragged you back with all his +strength. He is your true friend, your guardian. +You were ungrateful to forget him.</p> + +<p>Do not weep any more, Elise. Barbet leaps joyfully +around you. Do you not recognize his signs +of joy? He has consoled you in this way, when +you were as heartbroken as now. Look how he +points to the horizon. He turns as if to beg you to +listen. He leaps again. Look! He is trying to +make you see a lantern just entering the channel. +Hurry and climb the dune so as to see better what +boat this light, so like a far-off star, announces. +Barbet tells you. Forget your sorrows and listen. +Two barks. It is the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>, big Poidevin’s +sloop.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>“Is it really, Barbet? Is it really, really, big +Poidevin’s sloop?”</p> + +<p>Yes, it is true, really true. Just watch Barbet. +He begins his foolish frisking, barking wildly, but +always two barks at a time. Have no fear, it is big +Poidevin’s sloop. It brings you Silvere, first of +those whom you wished. He is the first and will +show the way to the others.</p> + +<p>“Oh, thank you, Barbet! I shall see them all +again, and I shall recover my father.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Elise waited a long time. The lantern hardly +grew larger. The course of the boat which it announced +was so slow, that it would not reach the +port for an hour. An hour is often longer than a +year to those who are in suspense.</p> + +<p>“Come, Barbet, quick! We shall meet him at +the landing. Mother Pilote will recover her senses. +We must go and tell her the news. Quick, Barbet!”</p> + +<p>Elise passed quickly through the village and +reached the house hidden among the big trees on +the edge of the stream. She knocked joyfully with +all her might.</p> + +<p>“Mother Pilote, I have come for you to go and +meet Silvere.”</p> + +<p>“Who is there?”</p> + +<p>“I, your Elise, Mother Pilote. Silvere will be +here in an hour.”</p> + +<p>“Go away! My poor Silvere is no more among +the living. Your troubles have made you walk +o’ nights.”</p> + +<p>“Open, Mother Pilote! I have seen the lantern +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>of the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>! It will reach the quay in +an hour.”</p> + +<p>“Go away! Do not bring trouble to my +house!”</p> + +<p>“No, I do not bring bad luck, for Silvere is not +lost. I have never injured any one.”</p> + +<p>“Go away! It is foolishness. You cannot recognize +a lantern! All boats are alike!”</p> + +<p>“It was not I who recognized it, it was Barbet. +You know perfectly well that he sees better than +any one.”</p> + +<p>“Barbet is accursed like you. Go away, both of +you.”</p> + +<p>“Open, Mother Pilote! There is too much +trouble in the village already without my adding +more. Open! Ask Barbet!”</p> + +<p>“It is all the same. I have no fancy for night +visits.”</p> + +<p>“Open! Since Silvere is returning, why fear me +any longer. Come, Barbet, tell Mother Pilote.”</p> + +<p>As if he had understood her words the dog gave +the two barks, known all through the town as the +sign of Poidevin’s sloop.</p> + +<p>“Do you hear, Mother Pilote? He is never deceived.”</p> + +<p>The old woman had gained a little confidence. +She did not open her door, but through the window +the sound of her voice came more clearly.</p> + +<p>“Are you sure that it is not all fancy?”</p> + +<p>Barbet barked again.</p> + +<p>“If it is true, wait a little, my daughter.”</p> + +<p>Elise heard her move from the inside of the door +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>a perfect array of defense, boards, chains, and +bolts.</p> + +<p>Barbet had stopped barking. He jumped against +the door, which resounded under the shock, and +which at last opened a little way. He slipped +through the space in order to announce the good +news to the old woman by leaps and pirouettes after +his fashion.</p> + +<p>“Oh! my daughter, call off your dog. He will +upset my pot of holy water.”</p> + +<p>Elise tried to enter, but the half-closed door prevented +her.</p> + +<p>“Wait a little. Call off your dog.”</p> + +<p>“Come back, old Barbet, there is no reason for +wearying every one because we are happy. Come +back.”</p> + +<p>She was interrupted by a dash of water in her +face which half suffocated her. Barbet, who received +it in his open mouth, retreated sneezing.</p> + +<p>The door opened its full width. The dog careered +about the old woman so wildly, and leaped so joyfully +upon her, that she let fall her pot of holy water, +an old tin vessel, which was battered shapeless on +the stone.</p> + +<p>“Alas! my daughter! Fortunately, I have no +more need of it. Since the holy water did not burn +you, you are not accursed. It was all lies. They +were a lot of wicked people to take pleasure in troubling +you. Silvere will make them sing another song.”</p> + +<p>The old woman hastily threw off her old dark skirt, +ran to her chest, drew out her gayest clothes, her +holiday dress, a red skirt, green waist, and flowered +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>hood. While she was dressing she kept on ejaculating:</p> + +<p>“They will make a long face, these people in the +village! They will have to beg your pardon. +Their heads were turned with their fancies about +the devil. You will not tell anything to Silvere. +He will be angry with me.”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, Mother Pilote, Silvere is too good a son +to reproach you. He shall never do it on my +account.”</p> + +<p>The old woman was quickly dressed. In her +haste she had tied her hood crooked, had twisted +her mantle in putting it on, had caught the skirts of +her basque under her belt. Carefully and with gentle +attention and tender respect Elise set the bonnet +straight, laid the mantle smooth, and arranged the +basque.</p> + +<p>“Mother Pilote, you must look as well as possible, +so that your son shall be proud at sight of you. He +will be delighted at your appearance.”</p> + +<p>They went out together, calling out the news at +each house, to tell the wives of all the sailors who +were on the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>.</p> + +<p>Their band increased everywhere; mothers, +sweethearts, daughters, they were a goodly company +as they reached the wharf. Barbet went before, +leaping and barking, like a fiddler at the head +of a wedding procession.</p> + +<p>Elise had not been so happy for a long time. +They no longer feared her in the village. Mother +Pilote had treated her as if she were her daughter, +and the women spoke to her pleasantly.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>When they reached the pier the lantern shone +close at hand in the end of the channel, nearly at +the harbor mouth. There was no doubt about it. +It was Poidevin’s lantern. It was hoisted at the +top of the mast, and by its light they could distinguish, +through the darkness, the sailors they knew to +belong to the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. Two long barks announced +them.</p> + +<p>“Ho! Poidevin!” shouted all the women together +in an irresistible burst of emotion.</p> + +<p>“Home again!” repeated twenty voices through +the night, twenty voices with strong, well-known +accents.</p> + +<p>When the sloop came alongside the wharf, and +its red lantern flooded the deck, showing big +Poidevin himself at the helm, and the black forms +of the sailors at work, there broke out from the +women cries of happiness and sobs of joy, and +Mother Pilote drawing Elise to her lips, held her +fast in a long embrace. She had seen Silvere.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Silvere</span> returned rich, for some time at least, for +the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> had made a great success of +her cruise. She was so heavily loaded with fish +that she had been hardly able to reach the market +at Dieppe, which was better than that of Boulogne. +They had thus gained by their delay, and when the +fish were sold were well paid for their trouble.</p> + +<p>Before going north again for the second cruise +they had come to pass a week with their mothers, +wives, and daughters, those who tell off day after +day, like a chaplet of sorrow, the long months of +absence.</p> + +<p>The day after his return Silvere did not leave +Elise. All day long, happy in being together, they +walked the dunes, confiding to each other the overflowings +of their hearts. She told him with caution +of the persecution of which she had been the object, +but said nothing about the part which Mother Pilote +had played. He had learned the truth, however, +from another source, and Elise seemed to him only +more attractive and more worthy of being loved.</p> + +<p>“Elise, I will not go on the second cruise. I am +not willing to leave you alone in the village. You +have such speaking ways. There is no one who has +their heart in their eyes as you have. When you +sailed away before, I felt that I should never see +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>you again. I was always on the lookout for you in +the North Sea, and I hardly slept for watching the +horizon.”</p> + +<p>“You are good to have loved me. I, too, often +called on you when you were far away.”</p> + +<p>“Let us marry, Elise. I will not leave the village. +Mother Pilote will be delighted.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Silvere. Until I have found my father’s +body I might bring trouble between us. Later on +I will be happy to be your wife, so as to care for +you and pay back all the kindness which you have +shown me. You are the only one who has not forsaken +me.”</p> + +<p>“But if your father should not be found? Ought +we not to marry just the same? Would he wish +such an injury to his child?”</p> + +<p>“Let us look for him. I cannot bear the idea of +his being tossed about pitilessly. If you had seen +him, as I have, you would help me snatch him from +the dreadful sea.”</p> + +<p>“It is not the will, it is the means which we lack. +What is it? Are you ill? Why do you tremble +so?”</p> + +<p>“Do you see that man watching us? He is hidden +in the crow’s hole.”</p> + +<p>The crow’s hole had been dug in the sand by +hunters, who lay there in wait for wild birds as they +passed overhead. In the first days of autumn it +served as an ambush against the gray crows from +the north, who passed over the village on their way +to the neighboring fields. It was from them that +it had taken its name.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span>As Elise and Silvere came near, some one crawled +out, bent double and creeping on all fours, as if to +escape observation.</p> + +<p>“What is Barnabé after there? He is not likely +to find any great chance to do mischief in this sandy +waste. Ho! Barnabé?”</p> + +<p>But Barnabé was deaf to the call, and hurrying +only the more, soon was out of sight.</p> + +<p>“I would rather see his back than his face, Elise. +He, at least, has made you no trouble during my +absence.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary. He has been better than the +others. But your coming has upset him. All day +long he has been looking threateningly at me.”</p> + +<p>And Elise leaned more closely and more timorously +against her lover. He held her hand, and, +under the firm pressure, she felt a caressing warmth +which made her heart glow.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I have never known anything so sweet as +being loved.”</p> + +<p>She threw a restful glance at her lover, whose +huge figure seemed a tower of strength to her.</p> + +<p>“I am so strong now. One is weak when one +fights alone.”</p> + +<p>“Lise, my beloved, my two arms, all my strength, +belong to you always. For your happiness——”</p> + +<p>He stopped short. Elise had begun trembling +again:</p> + +<p>“Silvere, look—there—behind us. He is following +me. His eyes are wicked.”</p> + +<p>“Who? Barnabé? Wait a moment. I will +give him a bit of advice to let you alone.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>“Oh no? Do not leave me! I am not happy +unless you are with me.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Elise. It is intolerable that you should +be threatened by this rascal. I will clear the road +of him.”</p> + +<p>Silvere ran toward Barnabé, who took to his heels +instantly, muttering threats.</p> + +<p>This was not the first day that Barnabé had followed +Elise, but she had not wished to say so for +fear of making trouble between him and Silvere. +But she was not able to resist the urgency of her +lover, and let him see a little of how matters stood.</p> + +<p>After the first visit to the Bureau at Saint-Valery, +Barnabé had returned to the village in a most self-satisfied +state. He had filled the tavern with his +boasts, telling with many words how he had chastised +the insolence of the little hunchback, and +swearing that he would return the next day to take +the commissaire by the nose. He wanted to accompany +Elise on her second visit, but she refused, +thinking that such an unbridled advocate would ruin +the best cause. He was angry, and followed her, +declaring that he would be her champion whether +or no, and that he would make her see reason in +spite of herself and every one else. She had had to +take a decided stand with him. He followed her to +Saint-Valery, and fear alone had kept him outside +the Bureau. He returned often with the same intention; +finally he gave it up, and, in revenge for +her slight, had gone over to the girl’s enemies.</p> + +<p>This that Silvere drew from her was not all, for +Elise had not thought it wise to tell everything to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>her lover. Barnabé was truly a bad fellow. On +their first visit to Saint-Valery he had made disgraceful +proposals. If she should recover her +father’s body and his money, Elise would be rich, +and he had offered to marry her. He believed her, +then, capable of breaking her troth. At that time it +is true they thought Silvere lost, but for her he would +have lived always. She would no more be false to +him dead than she would have betrayed him living.</p> + +<p>Softened by her thoughts she smiled at her big +friend, in all the confidence of her heart. “Silvere, +I am so happy. We will work together to recover +my father’s body. Take me in your boat to the +Vergoyer. Perhaps we can find the place where he +lies. That would help us very much in our demands +at Saint-Valery.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The following morning, well before dawn, all three +set out together, the two lovers and Barbet. The +breeze which came with the day sent them briskly +along. The sea was smooth, and in a half hour they +were out of the channel. Then, spread out before +them, they saw gleaming under the rising sun the +sea that hid, as if under a smile, the treacherous +abyss.</p> + +<p>Seized by a strange emotion Elise drew near Silvere—she +found herself irresistibly drawn as by some +charm to this new life so sweet and protecting. +This big Silvere, who was so gentle, she loved for +the faith he had in her.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I believe that we shall find my father, +and that he will bid us marry.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>They were drawing near the Vergoyer. The reflection +of the sun made delusive gleams, and a dull +rumbling seemed to come from the depth of the sea, +frightful like all noises whose cause is not known. +The boat, now fairly in the rough water, resounded +under the blows of the waves.</p> + +<p>It was time to take soundings. Elise took the +lead, then leaning well forward in the bow she +whirled it around her head and with a sudden fling +threw it far before her into the sea. When the boat +on its course passed over the place where it lay on +the bottom, Elise drew the cord taut, and, hauling +it in, counted the number of fathoms which it +marked.</p> + +<p>“Ten fathoms, Silvere. We are on the shallows. +Father was wrecked in the gulf.”</p> + +<p>From fathom to fathom they sounded to find the +greatest depth. Silvere scanned the surface. At +the places where the waves seemed quietest he +fancied they would find the greatest depth. He +steered there, but he was mistaken—seven fathoms +only.</p> + +<p>The boat tacked again. Misery! Only five +fathoms. He changed her course. Twelve +fathoms—at last—eighteen—twenty-two—keep +right ahead, we are approaching it. Misery! It +shoals again—nine fathoms only. For a long time +they tried to find the gulf, which they knew to be +at least sixty fathoms deep.</p> + +<p>“Elise, time passes. We must not delay if we +are going to return with the morning tide. The +breeze will not be with us as we go back. We will +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>come again to-morrow, and will consult the villagers +who are best posted.”</p> + +<p>“Let us try again, Silvere. Perhaps our ill-fortune +will leave us. One cannot search always +without finding.”</p> + +<p>Elise tried the lead ten times more, but without +success.</p> + +<p>“Enough, Elise, let us come about. The tide is +falling. We shall not have water enough to get +back.”</p> + +<p>“Why not wait until night! I have no doubt +that if we call upon my father he will make his +presence known. With you I am not afraid.”</p> + +<p>“No, this is no place to sail at night. One blast +from the north-west, and the canoe would be turned +keel in air. We——”</p> + +<p>His words were cut short by a bark. Barbet was +standing up, his feet on the gunwale, his ears erect +his nostrils distended.</p> + +<p>Elise ran to the stern. Panting and troubled she +fled to Silvere for protection. Both were silent, +every nerve alert, while the boat held its way with +no thought now of turning about. Leaning on +each other, motionless, they seemed united by the +same feeling of tenderness and affection.</p> + +<p>At that moment a sharp, angry growl interrupted +them.</p> + +<p>“It is no doubt here that the lame man lies. +You know, Silvere, the little red-haired man who +made so much trouble in the village? You remember +how Barbet always growled at him? It was +just as he did now.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span>The boat sailed steadily on. Barbet barked five +times. Elise hid her head on Silvere’s breast and +murmured in a low tone:</p> + +<p>“It is the launch of friend Joseph. They are all +there then.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, they are in the gulf. They drifted there +after being shipwrecked on the shoals.”</p> + +<p>“Oh! Silvere, do you hear Barbet? We are +over the lost sailors’ gulf.”</p> + +<p>“Eight barks. It is Amadée’s sloop.” They +are all there. How many besides, from Berck and +Cayeux, that Barbet did not know at all?</p> + +<p>“Do you hear? Three times—can it be so—three +times only—three times—it is father.” And +while Silvere struck the sail to stop the boat, Elise +cried out:</p> + +<p>“Father, are you there? You will forgive me +now that I have found you. Father, are you +there?”</p> + +<p>The anchor ran out, and the boat came into the +wind. Barbet began his barks again—always three +together. It was the boat of her father and his six +companions.</p> + +<p>Elise took the lead and let it slip overboard. +When she felt it had reached the bottom she had +a shiver. She raised the cord slowly and drew the +lead aboard carefully. Its bottom, smeared with +grease, had brought up a light covering of fine sand. +She looked at it abstractedly for a long time.</p> + +<p>Silvere did not dare to break in on her pious +thoughts. The full noonday sun shone in splendor, +and in the clear light which seemed to envelop her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>the young girl seemed to brighten and to be alive +with a new force.</p> + +<p>“Elise, we will make a buoy fast to the anchor. +If we do not go at once we shall find the bay entirely +dry.”</p> + +<p>Recalled to herself, Elise made haste to measure +the depth.</p> + +<p>Sixty fathoms, over a bottom of fine sand. It +was surely the abyss which the old men called the +lost sailors’ gulf. “Father, if you are really there, +do you pardon me?”</p> + +<p>At that very instant Barbet gave three quick joyful +barks, then kept on barking without taking breath. +He had answered Elise. He announced her father’s +forgiveness, the end of all her troubles, and a life of +health and happiness.</p> + +<p>Then forgetting her unhappy past in her new +hopes, Elise sat beside her lover and offered him +her hand.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, my father gives me to you. You alone +have not failed me. I am no longer afraid of being +loved.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">After</span> a last thought consecrated to the past +they quitted the lost sailors’ gulf. At the place +pointed out by Barbet, Silvere left the anchor, made +fast to a float, as a guide for the future. At last +the boat headed for home. But the wind was +against them, and they made so little progress that +they soon had to give up the idea of entering on the +day tide.</p> + +<p>Elise saw this before Silvere told her. What difference +did it make? She had regained her hope in +the future, and, in the reaction from her past sufferings, +was thoroughly happy. Leaning toward +Silvere she looked at him so gratefully that the +young man could not contain his emotion:</p> + +<p>“Elise, you know that I would willingly give my +life for you. From this hour there shall be no +more sorrow for us.”</p> + +<p>What is Barbet trying to show them?</p> + +<p>“Is it that wretched boat which excites him so?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yonder, with the brown sail. The boat +which sails in our wake.”</p> + +<p>“It seems as if it followed us, tack for tack. I +will find out.”</p> + +<p>“Silvere, do not let us trouble ourselves about +other people’s affairs when they are no concern of +ours. Let each one be left to his own devices!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>Silvere was obstinate. He changed the boat’s +course, he tacked and luffed at random, or kept +straight ahead. The other boat followed each +manœuvre exactly.</p> + +<p>The chase lasted for five hours. As they had to +wait for the tide they kept in the open sea, so as to +have more room than in the channel; but whatever +direction Silvere took he always saw astern +the little brown sail, taking the wind just as he did. +It became irritating. He kept his eyes on his unknown +enemy, but, whenever he tried to overtake +him, the brown sail always escaped before he was +near enough to recognize it.</p> + +<p>“It is not from our village. It must be a boat +from Cayeux. <i>Parbleu!</i> We have not had our +eyes open. I recognize that short mast. It is the +<i>Marie-Albert</i> of Saint-Valery, Barnabé’s uncle’s +boat. There are two men on board and I imagine +that he is one of them, the wretched landlubber.”</p> + +<p>Elise was seized with painful forebodings. Was +she never to have a quarter of an hour’s pleasure +free from fears? What could he be after, this +Barnabé, that he attached himself to her as if she +belonged to him?</p> + +<p>“I will overtake him,” cried Silvere suddenly. +“I will have satisfaction or capsize first.”</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I beg you, give up this useless pursuit. +If we come up with Barnabé what complaint have +we to make? Trouble comes fast enough without +going to meet it half way.”</p> + +<p>“Elise, since we have spare time let us make use +of it. Look to the sail—Starboard.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>Pressed against the tiller Silvere paid no attention +to her, and spoke only to give orders. He +changed the boat’s course so quickly that she received +blows and shocks enough to capsize her. +They gained on the enemy by skilful sailing, but +she quickly made up what she had lost, and the men +in both boats were so occupied, one in flying, the +other in pursuing, that they paid no attention to +their course. It was a wonder that they had not +run aground on the shoals twenty times.</p> + +<p>At one time they were so close together that the +men glared at one another, and excited by this exchange +of angry looks threw at each other a volley +of insults.</p> + +<p>“You great gull, you shall not have Elise to yourself. +I will come and take her in such a fashion that +she will not resist.”</p> + +<p>“Look after yourself. Your claws shall be cut +for you.”</p> + +<p>Barnabé’s uncle, an old fellow with a groggy nose, +kept sullenly silent, evidently in a very bad humor. +Elise interposed:</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I pray, let us leave them alone if we +wish them to leave us alone.”</p> + +<p>“No, I will scour the hair of this miserable cur. +What business has he to come smelling after us? +Starboard—port.”</p> + +<p>His orders followed so quickly, that they were +tossed about without cessation. All at once Elise +uttered a cry of distress.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, we have returned to the Vergoyer.”</p> + +<p>Silvere did not hear. He did not know what +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>risks he ran, or where he was going. He saw only +a brown sail which continually escaped him, and +which he had sworn to overhaul if he had to follow +it to the shores of England.</p> + +<p>Every instant there came new tacks and new +shocks, and on the choppy sea of the Vergoyer the +two boats pitched wildly.</p> + +<p>“We shall overhaul them, Elise—port!”</p> + +<p>“Silvere, do not take the trouble. See, here is our +buoy. We are back again at the lost sailor’s gulf.”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet. You keep the boat back by your +talking. We are losing headway. Port—Lise—Lise——”</p> + +<p>“What makes you grow so pale! You frighten +me!”</p> + +<p>“Lise—Lise——”</p> + +<p>“Enough, Silvere. We risk our lives at every +tack. Shall we keep on until the Vergoyer has devoured +us too? You frighten me—you are so +pale—speak to me—speak to me. Let us give up +the chase, I beg, as a proof of friendship.”</p> + +<p>“Lise—Lise——”</p> + +<p>“Are you suffering?—answer me—have you +had a blow? We shall surely be capsized if we do +not get away from here.”</p> + +<p>“Elise—there—there——”</p> + +<p>“Speak plainly! You are killing me with +anxiety!”</p> + +<p>“There—the brown sail——”</p> + +<p>“Misery! Can it be? What has become of +her? I cannot see her. Barnabé—ahoy!”</p> + +<p>Elise shouted again and kept on shouting, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>Barnabé did not answer. At the minute she had +lost sight of him he had brought his boat about at +the wrong moment, and it had turned over so easily +that it seemed as if he had intended it.</p> + +<p>Poor Barnabé! He had better have gone again +on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. But at the thought of finding +himself face to face with Florimond for long weeks, +fast between two planks with no chance of escape, +he was anxious to cancel his engagement. His request +had been promptly granted. No one regrets +losing a bad companion.</p> + +<p>Their thoughts were full of him as Elise and Silvere +left the Vergoyer. Poor Barnabé! He was +not really bad at heart. He was more dangerous +in his friendships than in his enmity, for his evil +tongue spoiled all the good he did. He certainly +did delight to annoy others, and so was the cause of +his own death. Ought one not to forgive him?</p> + +<p>Elise remained thoughtful for a long time. She +had gone to the stern, and was leaning on Silvere’s +shoulder while he delicately lent himself to the <i>rôle</i> +of protector. He laid a course that did not require +him to change the sail, and in working the tiller he +was careful not to stir his shoulder where Elise’s +head was lying quietly in melancholy abstraction. +Sweet Elise! He did not dare to bend his head so +as to look at her, but he felt that she was in a revery, +and held his great body still in a sort of respectful +adoration.</p> + +<p>He surrounded her with caressing thoughts. He +felt the warmth of her forehead on his shoulder, her +hair brushed his cheek. He heard her breath light +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>and soft in rhythm with the rough breathing of Barbet. +The rise and fall of her chest, supported on +his own, sent through him a shiver of pleasure. +He smiled over her, his dear Elise, with that sweet +smile which fathers have for frail children to whom +they give all tenderness.</p> + +<p>Elise’s thought was at the same time pleasant +and sorrowful. She held Barbet between her +crossed arms and craftily closed his mouth to restrain +his joyous outbursts. Truly the dog was +lacking in reserve. From the moment that the +brown sail had disappeared he had broken out into +joyful barks. Even at this very moment, notwithstanding +her fingers which with all their might held +his mouth closed, he half opened it and threw out +little joyful cries. Elise awoke with a start from +her dream.</p> + +<p>“You have no respect, Barbet. Come, be quiet. +It is only a villain who rejoices over the death of +others. Be quiet.”</p> + +<p>Recalled to propriety by a light tap on the nose, +Barbet lay silently in arms which held him tightly. +Then Elise fell a-thinking again, while Silvere, tender +as a lover, attentive as a faithful friend, supported +her. He was happy because he saw that her +confidence had returned, and he was taking her +home.</p> + +<p>They entered the channel, slipping homeward with +the tide as it came into the bay. Already the last +gleams of twilight had faded from the sea and left +it black, for the night was without moon and without +stars. The breeze had not changed since morning +and Silvere counted less on it than on the tide. +He held the tiller fast, and not having to work the +boat gave himself up to the enjoyment of the moment.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_162a.jpg" width="450" height="706" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">HE WAS HAPPY, BECAUSE HE SAW THAT HER CONFIDENCE + HAD RETURNED.</p> + <p>Chap. 18.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>He started suddenly with an intuition of danger. +Quick! This is no time for dreams. Night is the +time for collisions. Besides, was not a soul in his +keeping? Ought he not to watch over this child +whom he held trembling on his heart?</p> + +<p>“Listen, Elise. I am sorry to break in on your +revery, but there is a tug behind us drawing a large +boat. I think it is a schooner from the orders given +out. She will surely run us down if we do not light +our lanterns.”</p> + +<p>He was right. Hardly had the lantern glimmered +at the mast-head when there came from the direction +where he had heard the noise a shout, in a voice +which emotion rendered sweet and far reaching:</p> + +<p>“Boat ahoy! Ahoy!”</p> + +<p>Silvere steered his boat one side to avoid a collision, +and when, behind the tug, there passed through +the darkness a large schooner with lofty masts, the +same clear voice came from her deck:</p> + +<p>“Silvere Pollenne—Elise Hénin—Ahoy!”</p> + +<p>“Chrétien Loirat!”</p> + +<p>“And the Danzels and old Coulin!”</p> + +<p>“All aboard here!”</p> + +<p>Hurrah! They were all there—the four men who +were lost from the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>—Chrétien, the two +big fellows, and the old sailor. All were safe again. +Firmin no doubt would soon come in his turn.</p> + +<p>Then, in an outburst of happiness, Elise threw +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>herself into the arms of her lover, who pressed her +gently to his breast.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I should have been dead if you had not +loved me. Now we will be married and together +will take care of Mother Pilote.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XIX.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> four sailors of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> could not +return home at once. They were on a schooner +bound to Saint-Valery, and had to wait until, at +dawn, the outgoing tide would leave the bay dry. +But when Silvere reached home that night he +spread the news of their return, and their wives, who +had waited so long, were only too happy at the +thought of going to meet them.</p> + +<p>All had donned their best clothes, and, with +white bonnets and skirts so gay that they seemed +to brighten the night, were ready when, at two +o’clock in the morning, the sand began to be bare.</p> + +<p>Over the bay it was still night. The lanterns on +the far-off quay of Saint-Valery were their only +guides, as, in the darkness, the party tramped across +the rough sands and splashed through the pools.</p> + +<p>The children, sodden with sleep, dragged themselves +along, and the poor old lame grandmothers +tried to keep up with the young wives, who walked +briskly as if their impatience set their pace. First +came the wives of the two big fellows. Each carried +a baby in her arms, while other children held +on to their skirts. Then, in a family group, came +the sons and daughters of the old sailor. Some, +grown up and married, had babies of their own, others +were still only boys and girls. Last of all came +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>Chrétien’s mother, elderly but not yet old, though +already uncertain of step.</p> + +<p>Good Mother Loirat had had a hard fight during +the seventeen years of her widowhood. By severe +toil she had won a livelihood from these arid sands, +and had brought up four sons. Alas! The sea had +taken three of them in one day, all lost with Hénin’s +boat. And now that the youngest was old enough +to earn their bread, she had believed that he, too, +was lost.</p> + +<p>Like all unfortunates whom trouble has followed, +even in their old age, she had long since given up +hope, but her last energies had been awakened by +this final blow. Her sweet Chrétien, blond and +bright-eyed, was the one of her four sons who most +closely resembled his father.</p> + +<p>Father Loirat had been one of the crew of a lugger +of Hourdel. It fished during the week on the +coast, but returned to its own port, every Saturday, +to enjoy the Sunday’s rest. His wages were small, +and the work uncertain; but if he made a poor living, +he was at least able to spend one day a week +with his family.</p> + +<p>When Mother Loirat thought of those Sundays +of other days, her eyes filled with tears. Her husband +took a child in each hand and she a third in +her arms, and they walked along the dunes under +the open sky, or they watched the weather. He +lay on the sands, smoking his pipe without a +thought. She, seated beside him, hushed the baby +to sleep on her knees. They sought no other pleasure +than to be together, and good Mother Loirat, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>who had never known happier days, looked back on +them regretfully, as on a vision of the past full of +sweet pictures and tender recollections.</p> + +<p>One Saturday in September, after a heavy equinoctial +tide, her husband had come home burning +with fever, his eyes bright, his limbs shaking. +Twenty-four hours after he was dead, just one +month before his fourth child was born. Loirat +was named Chrétien. In memory of him the new-born +child was given the same name, and as he grew +up he more and more recalled his father by his +open face and frank nature.</p> + +<p>To Mother Loirat he was always her little lad, +her Chrétien, blond and frank-eyed. Had sixteen +years then really passed since he was born? Was it +not rather yesterday that, during the day tides, she +had carried him in her basket on her back, and set +him down on the sand, while she bent over busily +gathering shells? When she came back to him, +weighed down by her load, she forgot her fatigue in +watching his sweet little smile.</p> + +<p>During the night tides she left him sleeping in +her cabin with his elder brothers, all young together. +She had worked fast at such times, so as +not to return late and find the child awake and crying +for her.</p> + +<p>To him, the same as to others, came the time when +he was old enough to learn a trade. So he had +sailed on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. And one night they had +come to his mother to tell her that he was lost. +She, who had borne without complaining, all the +caprices of fate—the loss of her husband and of her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>three sons, had had for Chrétien her first outbreak +of indignation and revolt. Had she not more than +paid her debt, and was it not now for others to +give to the sea the tribute which she demands, as +a kind of revenge, from the men who harass +her?</p> + +<p>No, she would not believe that her boy was dead, +and the night before she had received the news of +his return as quietly as if it had been a thing foreseen. +But she was none the less impatient. Under +her furrowed brow, her keen eye looked through the +shadows of the night for the figure she was awaiting.</p> + +<p>Dawn was coming, but the distant landmarks +were still lost in a heavy obscurity. A strange +atmosphere came off the sea. They could hardly +breathe. Though it was the end of night it was as +warm as at midday. At long intervals, in the south, +beyond the steeple of Saint-Valery, pale lightnings +furrowed the sky. The storm seemed at times as +though it would not reach them. Under the oppression +of the weather they had slackened their +pace, and at the first gleam of day were only at the +middle of the bay. A stream, broad if not deep, +which they could not pass without wading up to +their knees, brought them to a halt. The wives of +the two big sailors had already tucked up their +skirts and were passing the children across, tossing +them from hand to hand and carrying the larger ones +astride their backs.</p> + +<p>“Come, good Mother Loirat, it is your turn.”</p> + +<p>The poor thing weighed nothing at all. She +took up so little room in the strong arms which carried +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>her, that the woman could not help saying +kindly:</p> + +<p>“One would make little profit off of you, Mother +Loirat. You have not more than twenty-five +pounds of fat to sell.”</p> + +<p>“Trouble is poor nourishment, my poor daughter. +When you have eaten as much of it as I, you will +have as little flesh on your bones.”</p> + +<p>But there was no time to lose in talk. Across the +white clouds which were fast increasing, the steeple +of the church of Saint-Valery stood out above the +dark mass of houses and of trees over which it towered, +while at the foot of the town the channel of +the Somme was plainly marked, as it took its even +course seaward. The women looked about them. +They could see nothing, could hear none of those +joyful outbursts which ordinarily announce sailors’ +return.</p> + +<p>They made haste, but so did the storm. Fortunately +it was kept back by the very heaviness of +its masses of clouds. They had reached the banks +of the Somme when the first lightning flash parted +the clouds above the church of Saint-Valery, a brutal, +blinding flash, followed by such a crash of thunder +that the frightened children hid their faces in +their mothers’ skirts.</p> + +<p>With one voice they shouted for help. Where +was the ferryman? Was the man paid by the town +to do nothing, to sleep comfortably dry while travellers +were drowned in the storm?</p> + +<p>“It is no new thing for us to be wet,” said the +thin voice of Mother Loirat. “Are we not always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>drenched by the tides? You are too fond of an +easy life. Wait a little, my daughters, you will find +times grow harder as you grow older.”</p> + +<p>These reflections did not stop their outcry. The +storm enveloped all the bay. As they stood on the +banks of the stream, too deep for them to cross, +exposed to its fury, the group of crying children +and clamoring women seemed, with their angry +voices, cries, and their shrinking attitudes like shipwrecked +seals.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Are you going to wait there until you are dry?” +cried, from behind, a cheerful voice. “You must +have a good many clothes to wash.”</p> + +<p>“Whom are you mocking, you great sea-gull? +Are you not as soaked as the rest? This is a +nice time for you to be taking your Lise for a +walk.”</p> + +<p>When Silvere and Elise joined the group of +women and children there was an exchange of words, +and explanations without end.</p> + +<p>“What brought you on our wet tracks with your +Lise?”</p> + +<p>Elise, who had been half-hidden behind Silvere’s +shoulder, stepped forward to reply. The night +before, on her return, she had received a message, +and an order to present herself at the Maritime +Bureau the next morning at six o’clock, on a matter +referring to her father. Like all poor people, she +had, to save the fare of the boat which crossed at +full tide, preferred to walk, taking advantage of the +ebb. This took six hours from her sleep, but she +would not lose in a twenty minutes’ trip a whole +day’s wages.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_170a.jpg" width="450" height="696" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">“ARE YOU GOING TO WAIT THERE UNTIL YOU ARE DRY?”</p> + <p>Chap. 19.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span>All this time nothing appeared on the other bank. +With a man’s authority, Silvere gave his advice. +Since no one came to help them, they had better +follow the stream to the place where the boats lay +at anchor. They would be less wretched there, if +they could not find any one to ferry them across to +the town.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XX.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> wharf was as busy a scene as if it had been +midday. Among the brigs and schooners unloading +wood from Norway, the women were not long in +making out a strange-looking steamer. She did not +have paddles like a tug, she was shorter than a +despatch-boat, and not so sharp as a corvette. Her +deck was loaded with rope ladders, with long tubes, +and strange dresses. On her davits hung boats +such as were ordinarily found only on larger vessels,—a +big ship’s boat, and a steam-launch.</p> + +<p>“Look there, Elise, this surely has something to +do with your father. You can see visors such as +divers wear.”</p> + +<p>The steamer had really come in answer to Elise’s +petition, which had reached the Maritime Prefect at +Dunkirk at a time when trials of diving apparatus +were about to be made. They wished to experiment +at different depths, to investigate the character +of the seas, to test dangerous whirlpools, eddies, +and contrary currents. The rough waters of Berck +and Etaples had been selected for the experiment. +The search which Elise asked for gave an opportunity +for practice. It was a sort of practical +problem, the solution of which would confirm scientific +theories. The steamer had then naturally been +ordered to put herself in communication with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span>Bureau at Saint-Valery, to obtain the additional +information necessary to its work.</p> + +<p>The experiments were to commence at the next +tide, and all the town had waked up well before its +usual hour. At the quay, on the river bank, on the +side of the town near the steamer, which was already +smoking, groups of sailors were talking excitedly. +Among them the women speedily recognized their +husbands, more interested in listening than in seeing +their families. They hardly turned their heads at +the call which Silvere threw at them from the opposite +pier.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, a service boat came alongside, and +a few moments afterward mothers, wives, and children +joined the men. Their embraces were short. +Their hearts were stirred only by this great news: +the Vergoyer was to be explored.</p> + +<p>A legend had grown from age to age about this +gulf, to which each year added fresh victims. The +names of those who had been lost there with their +boats had been told over and over so often that it +had come to be believed that, from generation to +generation, since the ages, enormous riches had been +piling up in this accursed gulf. Had not, only two +springs before, after a storm from the north, one of +those storms when the sea cuts away the sands, a +lugger from Cayeux, buried more than thirty years +before, been thrown up and floated? It was found +aground on its side, as strong as when new. Other +wrecks had been thrown up with it, and with them +an old box stuffed with pistoles, which had made +the finder rich.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>This old shipwrecked lugger, which had taken a +fresh lease of life, after having so long a lapse, had +since led a happy existence. She had all the boldness +of one brought back to life, one who had been +in the realms of death, and thereafter feared nothing. +The captain who bought her faced the roughest +weather in her. How many others might, like +her, be recovered, good for use? There was no +doubt that they would find treasures enough to fill +the pockets of all the coasters of the bay, and every +man hoped to take part in the work.</p> + +<p>Perhaps they might be hired. They were not +familiar with the work, but was it necessary for one +to have studied much to know how to put on a +visor and dig in the wet sand? If one should find a +box of gold like that other, one would be rich +enough to fit out a big fishing-boat and be a captain +in one’s turn. And it is much pleasanter to be a +captain than a hand.</p> + +<p>The sailors urged one another to go to the officers +of the steamer and find out if work was offered, and +under what conditions they would have a chance to +be taken.</p> + +<p>They did not stop talking for an instant, and +talking is dry work, so they soon entered the first +open tavern, and there talked on, very much at their +ease, before their full bowls of hot coffee. The +children lay asleep on the benches or in the corners. +The sun had risen long ago, but they had +not yet decided who should go and ask the +officers.</p> + +<p>“Let’s find Lise,” cried one of the big fellows, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>with moist lips and bright eyes. Three cups of +coffee had rubbed up his ideas.</p> + +<p>As one man they overturned the benches, and, +swallowing at a gulp what was left in their cups, +dashed out of the tavern to find Elise.</p> + +<p>She was seated at the door of the Bureau, on the +first of three steps where, for whole days during the +last weeks, she had waited so often for the commissaire +to come out. But where yesterday she was so +unhappy, she was to-day full of new hopes.</p> + +<p>The wives of the two big fellows were the first to +arrive, dragging their children off their feet beside +them, and urging their husbands to ask the young +girl’s help. They shouted and gestured, as if counting +on noise to prove their prior rights. While all +talked wildly around Elise, the old sailor, who had +kept back, was attacked by his two older daughters.</p> + +<p>They urged that he, too, should try to get work +on the steamer; if there were treasures to be found, +it would be too stupid to leave them to other people. +He did not yield easily, and the nearer the +time came to act the more he hesitated. For his +part, he had seen enough misery on top of the +water, without going underneath in search of it. At +his age he had no taste for convict’s work.</p> + +<p>But by his resistance he only increased the +urgency of his daughters, who grew frantic in their +attempts to convince him. Mother Loirat heard +them. She was so angry that she interposed:</p> + +<p>“The old man is right, it is no work for honest +men. Every one despises miscreants who get rich +by stealing dead men’s money.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>Then she went to Elise:</p> + +<p>“Do not try to help them, my child. All they +want is to steal the money of those who have been +shipwrecked.”</p> + +<p>“Have no fear, good Mother Loirat. I have not +given the money a thought. All I want is to free +the soul of my father and your three sons. You +and Chrétien will go. You have the right which +your tears have given you.”</p> + +<p>A feeling of rage and disappointment passed +through the crowd of sailors, furious at the contempt +which Elise showed for them. They began +to growl out threats.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Ahoy there, sailors, clear the road for your betters. +Ahoy!” The big fellows and all the women +turned about at the sharp, impertinent voice which +demanded room so cavalierly.</p> + +<p>“A ship’s figure-head on a seal’s skeleton! +Wretched bundle! He shall not pass! the baboon! +he is all humps and no hollows.”</p> + +<p>The little clerk struggled, and Elise made a dash +forward to clear the way to the Bureau for him, +when suddenly the sailors fell back of themselves. +Between their two files, drawn back respectfully, +came the under-commissaire, very dignified in his +silver-laced hat. He recognized Elise.</p> + +<p>“You are not late; it is well. Pass in before me.”</p> + +<p>Elise hesitated. She looked about for Silvere, +who had gone to the quay to make inquiries. She +wanted to wait for him. Could she dare face alone +and unaided the majesty of the Bureau? The chief +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>pushed her forward, then he went in after her, and +was followed by the little clerk, who slammed the +door furiously in the faces of the dumfounded +sailors.</p> + +<p>The commissaire was punctual. The last stroke +of six was just sounding.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Some minutes after the door opened. The Clerk +reappeared, and from the top of the three steps +overlooked the crowd of sailors arrogantly. He +held a roll of papers in his hand and struck an attitude, +as if about to read something important. All +eyes grew large, all mouths opened in fixed attention. +He unrolled his paper and spread it out; +when he saw that they were taken in by his trick he +put it back in his pocket, and said quietly:</p> + +<p>“Is Silvere Pollenne among you, please?”</p> + +<p>All faces lengthened with disappointment. Silvere +had just that moment returned from the quay. +He followed the clerk into the office, and the door +slammed furiously a second time before the dazed +looks of the sailors.</p> + +<p>It opened again a quarter of an hour later. The +little clerk came out, entirely hidden behind an +enormous register which aroused fresh hopes. +They needed men without doubt. They would +make those sign the book whom they engaged.</p> + +<p>They began to push one another about, to be +first. There was a delay of at least three minutes, +then the book was closed, and the imperturbable clerk +shrilly, but just loud enough to be heard, called out:</p> + +<p>“Mme. Loirat and Chrétien Loirat, will you have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>the kindness to answer? You are requested to +enter.”</p> + +<p>They went in together, and the door closed after +them with two slams more irritating than a box on +the ears.</p> + +<p>“He despises us, does he, this baboon?” Sailors, +children, above all the women, picked up stones, +resolved to punish this insolent fellow if he dared +show himself. All hands were raised, when they +heard the noise of the door open. They dropped +immediately.</p> + +<p>The commissaire came out, with Elise at his side; +behind her Silvere, Chrétien, Mother Loirat, and +finally M. Emile, the little clerk. He moved his +hump about delightedly, did M. Emile, as he passed +before the big sailors, proud as a king’s fool before +the courtiers. He had the body of a child and, notwithstanding +his great high, shiny silk hat, he did +not come up to the sailors’ shoulders. He walked +along no less pompously on that account, bursting +with impertinent pride.</p> + +<p>“There! Pick that up if you wish to move your +hump!”</p> + +<p>Two blows had knocked his high hat into the +mud. It was a signal for the sailors to stampede. +They set off in haste, while M. Emile stood still, +gazing after his injured head-piece. He was a truly +piteous spectacle, as he looked at it all crushed out +of shape. Tears came to his eyes, which became +more lack-lustre than ever. Fortunately Elise saw +him. She ran and picked up his hat, brushed and +set it right, and put it on.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>“I wore it to please you, Mlle. Elise. These rustics +are jealous at my fine appearance.”</p> + +<p>“Come quickly! Your chief is scowling. I tremble +for you.”</p> + +<p>They joined the under-commissaire, who turned +his head quietly and said shortly:</p> + +<p>“I have been thinking, M. Emile, and I have no +further need for you. Return to the Bureau. We +will talk matters over to-night.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir,” Elise begged, “forgive him. It is not +his fault. It is his misfortune.”</p> + +<p>The under-commissaire did not appear to hear +her. He continued his route toward the quay +where the steamer was anchored.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXI.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was seven o’clock by the sun when the steamer +came into the waters of the Vergoyer. A perfect +fleet followed it. They had come from Cayeux, +Hourdel, Berck, Crotoy, even from Treport, and, perhaps, +Etaples. Nowadays news travels far by telegraph, +and, thanks to the connection between the +Maritime Bureaus, word was scattered far and wide +that they were going to explore the gulf; that the +living were to see with their own eyes the abode of +the dead.</p> + +<p>Like so many birds of prey after a wounded +whale, boats of all sizes and all rigs, sloops, barges, +luggers, <i>flambarts</i>, followed in the wake of the +steamer. They were all after plunder, all hoping to +get rich easily. Divers often used explosives at the +bottom of the sea to break up wrecks, and then the +<i>débris</i> floated. If they came across any such wreckage, +it might be very valuable.</p> + +<p>Elise was on the bridge of the steamer with the +captain. Having told how the night before she and +Silvere had discovered the lost sailors’ gulf, she was +directed to lay their course to their float.</p> + +<p>The captain, a handsome, white-haired old man, +passed her orders to the man at the wheel, who +steered accordingly.</p> + +<p>Elise’s dress made a strong contrast with the gold-laced +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>suits of the officers who surrounded her, but +among all these grave faces she seemed none the +less dignified nor beautiful. Her white neckerchief, +on her dark waist, caught the sunlight, as if to emphasize +her emotion, and her face was full of sweetness. +One would have said that an emanation from +her soul floated about her like an aureole, clothing +her in all the grace of a new hope.</p> + +<p>The steamer went its way, followed by the fleet +of white, brown, gray, and red sails. It seemed, with +this army which followed it, as if advancing to certain +victory. And it was Elise who led all these +people to the conquest of the Vergoyer.</p> + +<p>“Stop her!” The steamer lay motionless. The +large launch was put into the water, then the other +boats and the long-boat, in which Elise took her +place with the commissaire and the principal officers.</p> + +<p>“Captain, if you will look to larboard, you can see +our float.”</p> + +<p>It lay two cable-lengths away, and became at once +the center of action. The captain shouted orders in +all directions through his trumpet, and each boat +took its position for work around the frail float, +which, tossed roughly by the waves, seemed a prey +hunted down by a ring of fishing-boats.</p> + +<p>The launch came into the wind close abreast of it.</p> + +<p>Facing her, just far enough away not to interfere in +the work, lay the long-boat, and beside it another, in +which were Silvere, Chrétien, and Mother Loirat. +They were like two galleries of spectators—the officers +sitting in judgment, and the relatives waiting +the revelations of this strange search.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>The launch and the large boats were anchored. +Further away, making up the circle, several boats lay +on their oars, ready to answer any sudden call. +After the soundings had been verified as sixty +fathoms, the divers began to work. Elise’s heart +beat wildly. Over the side of the launch was unrolled +into the sea a rope ladder, which seemed long +enough to reach the center of the earth. So many +rounds were paid out, and disappeared under the +waves in endless succession, that it seemed as if it +would descend into eternity. Still twenty-five +fathoms and one hundred steps to pay out. Never +had living man gone to such depths to search for +the dead. Elise shivered to her very marrow.</p> + +<p>The unrolling of the ladder stopped. A man +stepped over the side of the boat, dressed in a suit +of rubber with a head-piece having squares of glass +and two tubes in it. He had more than an inch of +lead on each of his shoes. It was to help him descend +into the abyss.</p> + +<p>Unfortunate man! He seized the first rounds +and touched the water. He began to descend—his +feet, his legs, the lower part of his body disappeared +beneath the waves. Misery! All the stuff of his +suit puffed up on his shoulders as if it were his skin +which had swollen. For one instant it seemed as if +he stopped, hesitating, as if the gulf pushed him +back and would none of him.</p> + +<p>“Stop him!” cried Elise. “I wish above everything +to find my father, but it is not right to make +another lose his life on my account. I will make +the descent. Order him back, captain.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>Why did all the officers hear this innocent +demand from Elise with a smile? Was it wrong to +wish to snatch an innocent man from an abyss? +She had seen her father so unhappy in those depths. +Was it necessary for others to lose their lives, also, +and unnecessarily? Barnabé, too; he was there +since yesterday.</p> + +<p>“Captain, I beg you, order the man back. I wish +to take his place.”</p> + +<p>“No, not you,” cried Chrétien, “I will go, Mam’selle +Elise.”</p> + +<p>But all these offers were made in vain. The +diver was out of sight; only the tremblings of the +ladder, and the paying out of safety cords and the +tube, showed that he was descending. Bubbles of +air broke suddenly by the hundred about them.</p> + +<p>“Oh, captain, look! it is just like a drowning +man.”</p> + +<p>“Be quiet,” cried Mother Loirat. “Let the man +attend to his business, and do you attend to yours. +Women should not interfere with men who are at +work.”</p> + +<p>The ladder stopped shaking, the paying out +ceased, and the lieutenant in charge in the launch +spoke, and then listened at the end of one of the +tubes. He gave orders to the four sailors, who had +been steadily working a pump. Then he went on +listening and speaking, stopping at intervals, to give +out orders. By his direction a great lantern was +lowered by a tackle, which lighted up the seas like +the rays of the sun. At the same time, from the +boat’s side, ropes were paid out, one with an armful +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>of tubes, picks, pickaxes, and shovels; the other +with an empty sack, which came up less than a +quarter of an hour afterward, filled with sand—that +sand under which Elise’s father was lying.</p> + +<p>The talking through the tubes began again. Soon +a second tackle was rigged, from which swung an +iron cask, which was lowered into the sea. Then a +new pump worked, and there was a half hour during +which Elise leaned over the abyss, exhausted with +watching and frightened by hopes and fears.</p> + +<p>At a signal from the depths, the lieutenant called: +“Hoist the cask!”</p> + +<p>The pulley of the tackle turned many times under +the rope. It hardly creaked. It seemed to be lifting +no weight at all. At last they saw the cask +below the surface, with a shadow so long that it +seemed to reach the bottom. “Halt!” The cask +is at the surface.</p> + +<p>“Look after the wreckage!” cried the captain +through his trumpet, and two little boats left their +station in the circle and placed themselves one on +either side of the tackle.</p> + +<p>“Hoist!” The cask rose, with the water streaming +from it like a fountain. Instantly the cordage +bit the pulley, which began to creak dolorously. +“Halt!” The block stopped. It was held rigidly +by the great weight below it.</p> + +<p>“Make the wreckage fast!” When the little boats +had done this, the cask was swung inward and its +burden was aboard the launch.</p> + +<p>“What is it?” cried the captain.</p> + +<p>“A mizzen sail—two dead bodies in it.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>The officers uncovered, and bowed their heads +devoutly.</p> + +<p>“Alongside!” ordered the captain, as he put on +his hat. “Alongside!”</p> + +<p>By his cheerful voice one could see that he was +well satisfied.</p> + +<p>His instructions were exact. To make experiments +with the improved apparatus at depths hitherto +unexplored, to study the comparative influence +of pressure, the action of eddies and currents on the +movements of divers, to find whether the sand was +solid or movable, to establish, in a word, a sort of +chart for the use of submarine investigations in +these dangerous waters; such had been the captain’s +task, a sort of preparatory investigation, with +which the search for dead bodies had only been indirectly +connected.</p> + +<p>Happily these experiments had been terminated +sooner than he had hoped. He had been directed, +if it were advisable, to accede to Elise’s petition, +but he had not thought this detail of much importance, +as it seemed to him entirely foreign to the +scientific side of the matter. But the results had +been so favorable that, in less than an hour of work, +the men whom he had been ordered to look for had +been found.</p> + +<p>“Well, my daughter, are you satisfied? You see +they have found your father. Are you satisfied?”</p> + +<p>“It is not my father, captain. It is Barnabé of +Crotoy, and his uncle from Saint-Valery. They +were capsized here only yesterday. My father lies +under the sand.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>The old officer frowned. So much the worse. +After all, drowned men are all alike. They had +brought back two bodies from a depth of sixty +fathoms. The question was as satisfactorily proved +by these as it would have been by the others. +Was one to dig for eight days in one place when +there was so much to explore?</p> + +<p>Besides, the sky made him anxious. The wind, +which for three days had been uncertain, and which +had passed from north to south by way of east, +showed an inclination to return to the north by +way of west, making thus a complete circuit. It +was an ominous sign. When the wind amuses itself, +let the sailor have a care.</p> + +<p>“Lieutenant, are your experiments finished? +Yes? Order the man up.”</p> + +<p>Elise rose in revolt.</p> + +<p>“But my father, captain. Are you not going to +look for him? Now that the man is on the bottom, +it will be very little trouble to dig in the sand.”</p> + +<p>“Order the man up!”</p> + +<p>“Captain, make him dig instead. If he comes +up, is he to go down again?”</p> + +<p>The captain snapped his fingers impatiently. He +was not accustomed to resistance to his authority, +and habits of discipline had given him that shortness +of manner which distinguishes sailors aboard +ship.</p> + +<p>“Be quiet, my daughter. You did not wish to +let him go down a moment ago, and now you do +not wish him to come up. Caprice cannot govern a +ship. Lieutenant, order the man up.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>Elise was desperate. All her strength left her +suddenly. She sank down, with clasped hands and +uplifted look. Two tears, gliding slowly from her +soft, black eyes stopped, trembling, on her lashes, and, +sparkling in the sunlight, seemed to witness the +depth of her disappointment.</p> + +<p>She had hoped so much from this visit to the +Vergoyer. She would accomplish her task. She +would acquit her debt to her father. She would +gain his pardon and would earn her reward, she would +see Firmin again. This result, so long delayed, won +by so many efforts and sufferings, was denied her; it +was snatched from her at the moment when she +held it, as it were, in her hand.</p> + +<p>“Captain, listen. If the man comes up I wish to +go down. If he does not dare to dig, I will. I will +dare everything for——”</p> + +<p>Choked by a sob, she could not finish. The +diver had returned, and, freed from his head-piece, +talked freely and gave in a strong voice the details +of his descent.</p> + +<p>At that depth he had been hardly able to walk, +even with his pick as a walking-stick. He had been +moved about like one who floats aimlessly and +lightly, his equilibrium lost, fearing constantly that +he would turn feet upward. He had been obliged +to make the shovel fast to the lower part of one leg +and the pickaxe to the other, and drag them behind +him like two anchors, to keep a foothold on the +sand. It was only in this way that he had managed +to walk. He had found the wreck near him. It +was there by itself. He had seen another, without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>doubt a vessel’s hull, a little further off, but he had +not dared to go so far. At sixty fathoms one could +not count on his equilibrium.</p> + +<p>Besides these two wrecks there was nothing but +sand. The bottom spread out like a flat valley at +the foot of a mountain-peak. The smooth surface +was raised in places by little mounds, on which the +sand seemed firmer than it was around them. Just +where he had descended, at the place marked by +the anchor which Silvere had dropped the night +before, the man had come on one of these mounds +which seemed to him higher than the others. He +had dug a yard downward without discovering anything, +but had not been able to go further because +the wet sand filled the hole as fast as he dug.</p> + +<p>“You hear what he says,” said the captain, turning +toward Elise. “We are not equipped for this +kind of work. Excavators are needed. I will +speak of it in my report to the Minister.”</p> + +<p>“The Minister is a long way off,” said Elise, +“and we are here. Let me go down.”</p> + +<p>“Say no more,” said the captain rudely. “Haul +the ladder aboard.”</p> + +<p>“No,” cried Elise, exasperated. “If you take up +the ladder, I will throw myself overboard. It is too +cowardly to have come here to investigate, and go +away without finding anything.”</p> + +<p>“We have brought up two bodies.”</p> + +<p>“Neither of them is my father. You were ordered +here to search for him. If you abandon the work, +at least let me go on with it. You have two suits. +Silvere will go down with me.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>“Let me take your place, Mam’selle Elise,” cried +Chrétien. “I should always feel ashamed if you +were lost. If I reach the bottom I will dig hard, +remembering that I am doing it to please you.”</p> + +<p>“Lise is right,” added Mother Loirat, “people +who are in trouble must help themselves.”</p> + +<p>The captain, giddy at all these demands, stamped +the deck impatiently.</p> + +<p>“Let them have their way. Bring the small boat +alongside.” It took on board Elise, Silvere, and +Chrétien, and carried them to the launch.</p> + +<p>“The girl goes first.”</p> + +<p>“No! let me,” said the two men, with one voice, +“me—me.”</p> + +<p>“The girl first. Hurry, lieutenant.”</p> + +<p>There was no answer possible. The captain had +his reasons for not yielding. Wishing to put an +end, as quickly as possible, to the claims of these +rustics, he sent Elise first, with the secret hope that +the deadening effect of the compressed air would +bring a girl to terms more quickly than men used +to painful exposures. In this way, one trip alone +would suffice to discourage all these would-be +divers.</p> + +<p>Elise slipped off her dress, wrapping her skirt +about each knee, and put on the rubber suit, except +the head-piece. Her face, with its fine profile, stood +out haughtily above this strange armour, and showed +not a tremor when the sailor came to put on the +visor with its four squares of glass.</p> + +<p>The head-piece was screwed down on its frame. +How it weighed on her shoulders! The heavy folds +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>of the collar and sleeves prevented her from moving +her arms. Her feet can never lift those leaden +soles.</p> + +<p>“Are you ready to descend?”</p> + +<p>Who was speaking to her? Elise has lost her individuality. +She is nothing but an inert will, the +soul of a machine. Without stopping to think, she +finds herself on the ladder, drawn down by the heavy +weights.</p> + +<p>Who holds up her feet? There is no longer any +weight in their soles. Something supports them. +When will she enter the water? She will know, by +its chill, when she touches it. No. She is under +the water. Through the largest light in her visor +she sees the waves about her. She is giddy. Who +whistled in her ears? It sounded like the wind!</p> + +<p>“Open the valve of the head-piece.”</p> + +<p>No matter who it is who orders it, she obeys unconsciously. +Misery! What a fright she has! +There is a deafening rumble. Have the tubes burst, +and is the water coming in upon her? She cannot +think, her temples throb, there is a band about her +forehead. Her skin is burning, her whole face feels +pin-pricked! There are noises and sharp whistles +in her ears! She gasps and strangles.</p> + +<p>“Do you want to come up? Shall you be able +to go to the bottom? You are not a quarter of the +way yet.”</p> + +<p>What will she find at the end of this endless ladder? +Elise no longer feels what she touches; neither +the rounds of the ladder in her hands, nor the +head-piece on her shoulders.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>“Do you not want to come back? Open the +valve of the head-piece. Have no fear of the noise. +It is only the air escaping.”</p> + +<p>She was careful to obey. She was conscious of +nothing, neither of him who spoke, nor of what, nor +how. But to hear another’s voice was to be not alone, +and without that companionship would she have +had the boldness to go on into these glassy depths? +What a vivid light this was about her, and what +strange forms whisked suddenly by her!</p> + +<p>She wished the voice would speak again. She +had neither body nor weight. She seemed to float +as a bird in air. There was nothing above her head, +nothing under her feet. She felt nothing except +shooting pains in her head. She kept on descending +mechanically without knowing where it would +bring her, or that the descent would ever end.</p> + +<p>“Open the valve!”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>At this command Elise woke suddenly from her +stupor. She felt the rounds of the ladder which she +held tightly. She was herself again. The pain in +her head ceased.</p> + +<p>“Attention! You are just reaching the bottom.”</p> + +<p>It seemed to her that she had come to a land of +sunlight. What dazzling gleams came through the +lights of her visor. She had to close her eyes. A +great lantern hung close to her, as powerful as that +of a light-house. The depths shone joyously. How +delighted she was after the night, the interminable +night, to see clearly again. She regained her confidence +when she found herself once more on her +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span>feet, with her shadow; her own familiar shadow, on +which one depends as if it were something tangible.</p> + +<p>How brightly the sand sparkled. The dead, whose +cold remains it keeps, ought to be charmed with +these bright gleams which presage their coming return +to the light of day. Doubtless her father has +felt the soft warmth of its rays, and has started in +his wet prison. He is here, under these sands which +for three months have served him as a winding-sheet, +while he awaits his final burial.</p> + +<p>But is it not impious to tramp about these sands +which cover the dead? Is it not like walking over +graves?</p> + +<p>On her knees, with joined hands, Elise, in a pious +revery, hears nothing; not the distant rumblings +which re-echo from space to space in these limitless +depths, nor the voice which calls her:</p> + +<p>“Remount! A storm is coming. The captain +gives you only five minutes. We are going to sail.”</p> + +<p>She hears nothing, for she is praying. All her +thoughts are with him whom she hopes soon to +find.</p> + +<p>“Father, if I have not looked for you earlier, it is +not because I have failed in respect or loving memories. +I remember, when a little thing on your +knees, your laughing talk and speaking eyes. I +have not forgotten them; nor how you taught +Firmin and me, in your boat. You had an angry +voice, but a warm heart.”</p> + +<p>“Are you not coming back, then? The captain +will not wait.”</p> + +<p>“Father, when you left us, I kept your memory in +my heart; since you have come back to me in +visions, I have suffered with you.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_192a.jpg" width="450" height="701" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">“FATHER, IF YOU WILL HELP, I WILL FIND YOU.”</p> + <p>Chap. 21.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>“Make haste. We are taking up the anchor. +The captain is just the than to go without you.”</p> + +<p>“Father, if you will help, I will find you——”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Is it the force of the current which lifts her? She +clings to the sand, digs her soles into it, clutches it +with her hands. It is night again. The lantern has +disappeared. Without a light how can she see to +dig the sands, how be courageous enough to wait in +this darkness in the midst of the frightful noise of +the waves?</p> + +<p>She cannot hear the voice now. She calls. She +is alone in this abyss of water. Yet ought she to +leave her father, to tear herself away at the moment +when she is about to find him? Where is the ladder? +She tries to seize it, her hands clutch only the +void. What agitations stir this under ocean! Everything +is whirling in these infernal depths. The +surges break on the sand with terrible crashings, they +tear it up, dig into it, and toss it about pitilessly. +Poor father!</p> + +<p>Elise is overturned. Rolled head over heels, +stricken by this great upheaval, she loses consciousness, +while the wild eddies spin her around and +around.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The launch had been made fast on the deck of the +steamer, which was running at full speed. Elise was +not yet freed from the diver’s dress. She had a rush +of blood to the head which stupefied, blinded, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>deafened her, when the visor was removed and she +breathed the fresh air. When at last she came to +herself she saw Silvere and Chrétien bending anxiously +over her, while the lieutenant was saying:</p> + +<p>“What were you thinking of to stay below in the +face of such a storm? Were you trying to play at +obstinacy with the captain? He had given the order +to cut the cord and tubes. Fortunately for you, the +safety rope was strong.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Never</span> had such a following sea driven a boat as +that which, in less than a quarter of an hour, was +hurrying the steamer to Treport. It was a real +gale from the north.</p> + +<p>The sea was in the wildest commotion, the waves +leaping, plunging, and breaking madly upon one +another. Entering the channel of Saint-Valery +was not to be thought of. In heavy weather the +Bay of Somme is impracticable. They had, therefore, +laid their course direct to Treport.</p> + +<p>They left behind them, as they flew on, many +small craft which could hardly hope to outlive the +gale. All those who had followed the steamer to +the Vergoyer had fled, like sea-gulls before a storm, +at the first sign of danger from the north. Were +they all safely in port that night?</p> + +<p>Built for rough weather, the steamer, in spite of +the tempest, soon reached the quay at Treport. +The moment they landed Elise, Silvere, Chrétien, +and Mother Loirat hurried to the point at the foot +of the light-house, to watch other boats enter. But +not one was to be seen on the horizon. Captains +choose to run before the wind, rather than to risk +going ashore and breaking up. A boat cannot +avoid a bar or a point as she would, and even if she +enters the harbor she has still the piers to fear. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>She can dash herself to pieces on these as easily as +a dish on a tavern floor.</p> + +<p>But in the north-east, there was a rag of sail +lashed by the mad winds. They could see it for an +instant, then it would disappear. Just as they had +made up their minds that it must have gone down, +it would reappear. Elise watched it with greater +uneasiness than the others, for she herself, in a +storm as wild as this, had realized how strong the +sea is and how weak a boat.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, a seaman’s is a risky trade. But how +the sea speaks to the soul. It is more beautiful +than ever when it is so angry. I am more afraid of +it here than if I were fighting it. One fears less +for those exposed to it, if one is working with +them.”</p> + +<p>A sailor interrupted her. He had orders to +bring Elise to the steamer, where the officials were +waiting to see her.</p> + +<p>Never had she had such a joyful surprise. As he +had promised Florimond, the under-commissaire of +Treport had made all enquiries possible about +Firmin. Finding his colleague from Saint-Valery +on board the steamer, he had communicated to him +the results which he had just learned.</p> + +<p>Firmin had been met drifting in the <i>flambart’s</i> +boat, nearly dying. He had been two days without +food. It was a government cruiser that had +picked him up. For ten days he had been in the +delirium of fever, but with good care he had got +well again, and was now no longer a ship’s boy, but +as hardy as an able seaman.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span>He lived in the top, running along the yards as +another man would walk the deck. He was always +the first in places of danger, in furling the sails or +taking a reef, always on the lookout to be first to +answer the boatswain’s whistle. The letter which +carried the news of his safety gave these details of +his good conduct aboard.</p> + +<p>Firmin had at last realized his ambition. With +the innocence of a child he had always believed +that everybody must be rich on one of these great +ships, which he had sometimes seen when at sea +with their shining decks and their well-polished +brasses. He had promised himself to some day try +his fortune. Elise should not have to work long +for him. He would engage on one of these big +ships, where he would become a real sailor, and have +a coat with gold buttons for holidays. So that +fortune, in putting him on the corvette, served his +turn exactly.</p> + +<p>Elise recognized Firmin in all that the commissaire +said. He was always so ready, so anxious for +rough experiences and fresh opportunities.</p> + +<p>“Where is he, sir? Can I go to him? Silvere +will go with me.”</p> + +<p>But Firmin was far away. The news had come +from Iceland. The corvette had anchored for some +weeks in the roadstead of Reikjavik, and had sent +her despatches by some vessel leaving for Europe.</p> + +<p>Iceland! That island without trees and roads, +where the fogs are as thick in the valleys as lakes; +where the horses have to brush aside the snow to +get at the grass; where the people live like the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>dead, in houses dug in the ground. Her father had +visited Iceland in old times, when he was in the +navy. He had accompanied one of the officers far +inland to see the snow-clad mountains, which vomit +fire and sulphur. He had nearly lost his life, but +Elise was not anxious, for all that. Firmin was +better at facing dangers than her father. She had +no fears for him on that score.</p> + +<p>From Iceland, where she had gone to look after +the cod-fishers, the corvette was to return to the +Scotch seas to protect the herring fishers. She +would not, therefore, return home before the end of +the autumn campaign, in the first days of December.</p> + +<p>“Then I will go to meet him,” said Elise. “I +have no right to be unhappy, since the lad has +found the place he likes. He will make a fine +sailor.”</p> + +<p>She seemed so sweet and gentle that the commissaire +was quite won over. He promised to find +the place where the steamer would make her headquarters, +and to help Elise in all possible ways.</p> + +<p>“Thanks, sir. You are very kind. The boy is +high-spirited, he is worth helping.”</p> + +<p>Yes, soon she would have her Firmin in her arms, +pressed to her heart as of old. She would see him +again, only handsomer and stronger. To go to him +she would engage herself with Silvere on big Poidevin’s +boat. She would ask no wages but her food. +Why should he not take her, for she was strong and +had no longer the reputation of bringing bad luck. +But some one was calling her.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>From the pier Chrétien was shouting at the top +of his voice:</p> + +<p>“Mam’selle Elise, Mam’selle Elise! The little +sail is coming in. She is a lugger from Cayeux. +She has the bodies of my three brothers. Mother +Loirat has fainted from terror!”</p> + +<p>And overcome with excitement, he kept on repeating, +as he caught his breath: “Mam’selle Elise, +Mam’selle Elise!”</p> + +<p>“I am coming, Chrétien. Give me a moment to +tell the commissaire.”</p> + +<p>Then turning toward Silvere, Elise took his arm.</p> + +<p>“Come with me. My courage never fails when I +am near you.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The lugger was anchored in the harbor, her bow +standing out of the water, her taffrail nearly on a +level with it. When they had all reached her, the +two commissaires, Elise, Chrétien, Silvere, and +others, besides a number of little boats at the +lugger’s stern, set to work to lift something lashed +there which hung deep in the water.</p> + +<p>Ho! hiss! It is heavy. Have a care. The +boats will be dragged under. Halt! Three pairs +of great boots come to the surface.</p> + +<p>“Mother Loirat, they are your sons. You must +calm yourself and stand, out of respect to them.”</p> + +<p>On her knees beside the old woman, Elise cried to +her:</p> + +<p>“Are you not happy? Your sons’ troubles are +over forever.”</p> + +<p>The old woman opened her eyes at last, at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span>moment when the bodies of her three sons were +laid on the pier. Death had not dared to separate +them. They were together, and in that last embrace +in which they had entered into the darkness +of the abyss. A sail, which chance had wrapped +about them, had protected them and served as a +winding-sheet, the true winding-sheet of a sailor. +The furious waves had respected their last embrace.</p> + +<p>They had been found by the lugger in the very +height of the storm, and she had made fast to them. +Running before the wind at random, not knowing +whether to take the open sea or try for port, she had +come upon this melancholy wreckage, which seemed +to her crew like a presage of their own death. +They had tried to avoid it, not wishing to embarrass +themselves with a dead weight, but it would not +be left. It followed after in her wake, it pursued +her, and through superstitious fears they had decided +to make it fast. It had thus been towed in +spite of the storm, and it was this which had saved +them. For it had borne the brunt of the waves, and +had made smoother seas about them, by acting as a +breakwater. Like a rudder it had kept the boat to +the wind, and, thanks to it, she had made port, +while many of her fellows would never enter it +again.</p> + +<p>The three brothers were laid on the quay. Their +faces were calm and unchanged.</p> + +<p>“My poor lads!—my sons!”</p> + +<p>And the old woman fainted again in the arms of +Elise.</p> + +<p>“Listen, dear Mother Loirat. Rouse yourself. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span>Your sons are at rest. My father will find rest as +well. The time of his return has come. He will +have his money in his pocket—you know the pocket +of his woollen jersey—in his sealskin purse. He was +so proud when he brought it home full. It made +a great lump on his chest, just over his heart. He +will come back rich, good Mother Loirat, and I will +give you all the money. You shall have no more +trouble.”</p> + +<p>The old woman did not hear her. She did not +recover consciousness until night, in a bed in the +tavern, with Elise and Chrétien on either side of her. +Silvere was on guard beside the three bodies, in a +shed belonging to the coast guard, waiting the end +of the official formalities. He passed the last hours +of the day and all night in this mournful watch, +where, to distract his gloomy thoughts, he had the +whistling of the wind and the angry roaring of the +sea. At last, when the first gleams of dawn came, +the storm passed away.</p> + +<p>It passed, but it had been so violent, and had +so torn up the sands, that it had thrown ashore the +bodies of all who lay in the lost sailors’ gulf.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Hénin was found as if asleep in his boat, which +seemed as if it remembered the way home. The +sea gave him back as it had taken him, stretched in +his berth, his lips smiling, his eyes closed. Around +him in the forecastle, under the watery covering +which had protected them from the teeth of time, +slept his companions, whom death had surprised in +sleep.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span>The boat was as uninjured as they whom it had +protected. And when the gale from the north set +her free, she was ready to take up work as boldly as +ever.</p> + +<p>Thrown up from the sands, and driven forward +by the waves, she had been caught in the current +of the bay, and, pushed on by blow after blow, had +gone ashore at almost the spot on the beach where, +some days before, Elise had tried to die, invoking +her father’s memory. The father had come in +answer to his daughter’s call.</p> + +<p>She was not there to receive him, but Barbet, +whom his mistress had left in the village, wandering +along the dunes, welcomed with joyous cries the +return of the old man, who brought back with him +the peace and happiness of his daughter.</p> + +<p>All came ashore one after the other: friend +Joseph, and Amadée, and many others who had +gone so long that they had been forgotten. They +were found all along the coast between Calais and +Fécamp.</p> + +<p>This gale has never been forgotten. In all the +country around it is known as “The Martyrs’ +Storm.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Three days passed. The storm had cleared away +entirely. The wind was steady in the north-east, betokening +settled weather. The sea reflected the +tender blue of the sky, and all the bay was bright +with changing hues, while across it stood out the +sombre mass of Saint-Valery. Above the dunes, in +soft lines, a few white clouds raced along, the last +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>of their kind; as if to show that the heavens were +being swept clean by the winds.</p> + +<p>Nothing could equal the brightness of this August +morning. On the road that climbed the dune, +a green triumphal arch was raised, for the village was +celebrating the liberation of her children.</p> + +<p>All the dead whom the sea had given up were +laid together in the little low room of the <i>mairie</i>. +Twenty-three! Brought together again, some by +boats, others in carts, according to where they had +been found.</p> + +<p>Twenty-three! Not one was missing at the roll-call, +and they had had to wait for the last—the lame +man, who, being the lightest, had been carried furthest +by the waves.</p> + +<p>In the memory of the old men there had never +been so joyful a holiday in the village. The <i>mairie</i> +was adorned with flags and garlands of flowers, +while the houses were dressed in white stuff, and +with bouquets. Here and there beacons, adorned +with branches, marked the route of the procession.</p> + +<p>Twenty-three coffins. All the strong men of the +place were needed to carry them. With its white +drapings and crowns of radiant flowers, one might +have truly called it a triumphal procession. The +first place was given to Hénin, who was wrapped in +a flag. Two lines of young girls, in long white veils, +with baskets on their arms, scattered roses in the +way.</p> + +<p>Elise and Barbet walked first, in advance of the +mayor. Preceding by a few steps the long procession +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>of villagers, they seemed as if guiding this +happy band of mourners.</p> + +<p>The great gate of the cemetery, with a cross +raised on either side, stood open to receive them, +and when the August sun, high overhead, marked +midday, the hour of rest, the twenty-three were laid +to sleep in consecrated ground.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>That night, as she entered her cabin with Barbet, +Elise had no fears of seeing her father’s ghost. +Surely he was at peace, lying beside her mother in +the corner of the graveyard. A new cross was over +him, with a beautiful inscription, in letters carefully +cut out and painted.</p> + +<p>“Father, are you at peace at last? Come and tell +me. I wish to wipe out of my memory your worn +features and reproachful looks. I wish to see again +your sweet and loving face.”</p> + +<p>But her father did not appear. Nothing now +troubled his peaceful rest. Barbet understood it. +He placed his paws on Elise’s knees, and looked +into her eyes, trying to say:</p> + +<p>“Friend, do not awake sleeping spirits. The time +has come to take up your life again, to go to those +who need you, to summon those of whom you have +need.”</p> + +<p>Barbet was right. Elise was no longer alone in +the world. The happy hour was at hand when she +would take her brother in her arms, the hour when +she would give herself to her betrothed.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Father Hénin</span> had come back to earth with +money in his pocket. His round purse was really +like a great ball in the pocket of his jersey, just over +the place where his heart once beat so warmly. +After a slight refitting his boat was ready for use.</p> + +<p>Elise had no thought of keeping all these riches +for herself. Was it necessary for her to be so careful, +now that she was to be married? She wished +to lay away Firmin’s share simply, and to use the +rest in making the last days of Mother Loirat more +happy. The poor old woman was still ill; her exhausted +forces would, perhaps, never recover from +this last blow they had received. Money is most +necessary in such cases.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, the authorities had seized everything, +with a view of protecting the rights of the +heirs, so that Elise’s plans were interfered with before +she was able to carry them out.</p> + +<p>Since the return of Silvere she had been very +happy. She accepted help from her lover as if he +were already her husband. When two people determine +to marry, ought they not to share good and +bad alike? Their wedding could not take place +until after the end of the autumn cruise, because big +Poidevin would not allow his men an hour more +than he had promised, and the sailing of the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>was announced for the night before the +full moon, three days away.</p> + +<p>At first Silvere had wanted to break his engagement +with Poidevin, and remain at home until he +could marry Elise. After that he would take the +first boat for the Scotch seas and join Firmin. But +Silvere was an excellent sailor, a hard worker, silent, +sober, and prudent, and his captain had refused to +release him.</p> + +<p>“I cannot bear the idea of leaving you alone, +Elise. You will go to live with Mother Pilote?”</p> + +<p>“No, Silvere. You know that while I have +accepted help from you as if you were my husband, +I should not be willing to accept it from another. +Mother Pilote would despise me if I were to ask her +to support me. I am not afraid of work. I would +rather sail with you. Big Poidevin would take me, +I am sure.”</p> + +<p>Since the time when she had led the funeral +cortége in advance of the mayor, Elise was held in +high respect in the village. Not only had they +forgotten, as she herself had forgotten, the insults +with which they had pursued her, but they now +praised her as if she were the cause of all the bodies +having come ashore. She had worked hard, and, if +they adjudged her that honor, might she not fairly +accept it? Nevertheless, she accepted only a small +part of the praise they gave her. Her one desire +was to make an engagement with Poidevin.</p> + +<p>Without further delay she dragged Silvere to the +wharf, near which she was sure to meet the big +captain. Ordinarily he was loafing on the pier, or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>more likely was sitting in the sailors’ tavern. They +looked for him first at the waterside. Two coast +guards set them on his track.</p> + +<p>“Poidevin? You need never look for him near +water, his nose is always over the grog.”</p> + +<p>He was drinking, as they soon found. As they +entered the tavern door, Elise shivered. She recalled +the scenes that had taken place there so little +time before; the hatred of Florimond and his +sailors; and Barnabé, buried only the night before +among the twenty-three martyrs.</p> + +<p>Barnabé, more vicious through his vanity than +from real wickedness. Elise thought often of him, +the latest victim of the Vergoyer. Fortunately he +had left no family, and his death affected no one in +the village. Elise was, perhaps, the only one who +had not forgotten him.</p> + +<p>It took Poidevin a long time to make up his +mind—five rounds of grog, and an hour’s talk, and +nothing definite yet.</p> + +<p>“Have another drink, to wind up with, Poidevin. +Lise will stand treat.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, Silvere,” said Elise. “You know that +I am no hand at drinking.”</p> + +<p>“Well then, for a joke, if the girl will drink I will +engage her.”</p> + +<p>“Your word is good, Poidevin. Lise will drink +willingly.”</p> + +<p>She drank in all frankness, and when she had +given an account of herself he kept his word. They +signed engagements over three fresh cups of liquor, +on the greasy table in the smoky room. As she +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>wrote her name at the bottom of the paper, she felt +the pen run lightly. She was sure of the future, +for everything in the past had gone as she wished.</p> + +<p>As she thought of her approaching departure, +which should bring her nearer Firmin, she let her +eyes wander through the open door toward the +boats anchored in the harbor.</p> + +<p>She was so surprised on seeing before her the +little hunchback, that she sat perfectly still. He +stopped short in the doorway. His bony face was +paler and longer, and more weak and sad than she +had ever seen it. He did not enter, but made a sign +to Elise to come to him. He felt that he could tell +more easily out of doors what he had to say.</p> + +<p>He had been discharged from the Bureau, as +shortly as if he had been unfaithful. Immediately +on his return his chief had summoned him, had recalled +the grotesque spectacle he had made in full +view of all on the quay of Saint-Valery, and emphasizing +the discredit which this cast on the +Bureau, had concluded in such a fashion that the +clerk had remembered the words exactly.</p> + +<p>“I am sorry on account of your family, sir, but I +am obliged to discharge you. I should be weak if +I were to overlook your offence. Go.”</p> + +<p>As he repeated the words which struck her ear so +dolorously, the little hunchback raised his dimmed +and mournful eyes to Elise. Under his glance, the +unspeakably sad glance of a sick man, she started, +and her breast swelled with pity.</p> + +<p>“Poor M. Emile. What have you done?”</p> + +<p>What had he done? He had made his way +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>through the streets of Saint-Valery to the outskirts +where he lived. He had tried not to show his trouble, +lest he should weep like a girl before all these +people who would be only too happy at his disgrace.</p> + +<p>Then his family had snubbed him, and had made +him go the next day and offer apologies, which the +commissaire had refused.</p> + +<p>Elise made up her mind promptly. She would go +at once and beg his forgiveness from the commissaire. +After her recent success, she did not doubt +that a little courage and plenty of resolution were all +that was needed to make these mighty officials do +what was right.</p> + +<p>She took with her Silvere and Barbet, crossed the +bay, and knocked resolutely at the door of the +bureau. The little hunchback, who had followed +her, step by step, pitifully, like a whipped dog, +stopped a little way off and hid himself beyond a +pile of joists. As she was about to go in Elise +looked for him, and, finding him after a little search, +scolded him gently.</p> + +<p>“You must come, M. Emile. You will never gain +anything without courage. It is poor people’s +money. You must come.”</p> + +<p>He went in, pushed by Elise rather than from any +will of his own. Hardly had he crossed the sill than +he dropped his head and disappeared behind her +skirts. He had seen, behind the heap of boxes at +his table, a shaggy head overtopping a large body. +His place was filled. It was useless to do anything.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>“We will go in since we are here, all the same,” +said Elise. “It will cost nothing to try.”</p> + +<p>But she could not keep the little hunchback, who +glided to the door so quickly that she hardly had +time to put out her two arms to stop him. He +slipped through her hands and took to his heels, but, +quick as he was, she was up with him in no time.</p> + +<p>“Come, M. Emile. I give you a chance. You +must show that you are worthy of it.”</p> + +<p>On seeing all four enter, the commissaire assumed +his dignity and his chair. He foresaw a vigorous +attack, and took the most available position to withstand +it. He glanced at Barbet and the little hunchback +contemptuously, paid no attention to Silvere, +and finished his scrutiny by addressing to Elise a +smile of interrogation.</p> + +<p>She replied by an exact statement of facts. M. +Emile was not able to earn a living in any other +way, and his old parents needed his help; places +were scarce at Saint-Valery—he wished to come +back, he acknowledged his fault.</p> + +<p>“Is it not so, M. Emile? You will be more courteous +to the sailors. He will give you back your +place, if you will promise to behave properly.”</p> + +<p>Without raising his eyes, which were fixed on the +ground, the little hunchback stammered out unintelligible +excuses.</p> + +<p>“It is useless,” said the commissaire. “I have +arranged to fill your place.”</p> + +<p>Elise interposed quickly:</p> + +<p>“Yes, we have seen the big, shaggy fellow. Men +of that size are not made for such light work as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>writing. They should take other places than those +fit for feeble folk.”</p> + +<p>The commissaire laughed. He began to understand +Elise. He forgot that he had thought her +crazed. He found her instead clear-headed and decided, +and actuated by a feeling of generous fairness. +He felt the power of her strength, strong from its +very simplicity, and for fear of proving weak before +it, he tried to break off the interview abruptly.</p> + +<p>“Do not urge me. I cannot send away a good +clerk to take back a bad one.”</p> + +<p>“That is not the point at issue at all, for the little +man promises to mend his ways. We do not wish +to take away his bread from the big fellow either. +We will find a place for him more in keeping with +his size.”</p> + +<p>“It is not possible. Leave me.”</p> + +<p>“No, we will not go until you promise. Silvere +wishes it as much as I, and Barbet, too.”</p> + +<p>Hearing his name pronounced, the dog wagged his +tail, and gave little barks of assent.</p> + +<p>“At least turn the dog out. It is the first time +that any one has taken the liberty of bringing a dog +into my office.”</p> + +<p>“Barbet is much better than most people. Come, +Barbet, make a beautiful bow to the commissaire.”</p> + +<p>Barbet made his reverence as seriously as a dancing-master, +and acquitted himself of his task with +a complaisance so amusing that the chief broke out +laughing.</p> + +<p>“Your beast is too absurd. Come, don’t make +me lose any more time with him.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>“He knows also sailors’ songs. Barbet, go aloft, +and sing the sailor-boy’s farewell.”</p> + +<p>The dog, whom Elise had placed by a chair, put +his feet about its legs and pretended to hoist himself +up, as if it were a rope and he a monkey. Then +sitting erect on the seat, he uttered a series of modulated +barks, long or short, cheerful or melancholy, +always in rhythm. He nodded his head, opened and +closed his eyes, emphasized parts with good effect, +and mimicked the play of words with most laughable +contortions.</p> + +<p>The chief laughed. The strangeness of this interview +put him off his guard. Disconcerted by the +<i>naïveté</i> of these four intruders, who, without any +sense of impropriety, had taken possession of his +office, he offered only a weak resistance.</p> + +<p>“Your beast is absurd. Make an end of this +ridiculous exhibition.”</p> + +<p>“Barbet knows how to handle a boat. Attention, +Barbet.”</p> + +<p>“Thanks, but do not give him so much trouble for +nothing. I do not care for any more.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he loves to be admired. Come, Barbet, to +the helm—starboard to the wind.”</p> + +<p>Like a performer before some high personage, +Barbet showed all his accomplishments, especially +the drill, which he executed promptly in the most +approved fashion, with a ruler for a musket; a ruler +which Elise had boldly borrowed from the commissaire’s +table. He was not happy when he had to +show a visit of inspection, for he had not his chevrons +and lace, and this infraction of rules did not +seem proper to him. But he made it up to them +by other tricks no less surprising, recognizing boats +and taking children to school, and finally, on a sign +from Elise, by dragging himself to the commissaire’s +feet as if asking the offender’s pardon.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_212a.jpg" width="450" height="703" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">HE UTTERED A SERIES OF MODULATED BARKS, LONG OR SHORT.</p> + <p>Chap. 23.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>“We will see. It is impossible in my office, I +have filled his place; but I will find him another +situation.”</p> + +<p>“No, we want M. Emile to be with you. Your +big, shaggy man can be a sailor. That is better than +writing. Come, ask again, Barbet.”</p> + +<p>“Go. Leave me. I will give him the place. +This fashion of begging is intolerable.”</p> + +<p>“Then you will keep him in your office! I +promised him he should be there, and I do not want +you to make me tell a falsehood.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, yes. Go away with your dog.”</p> + +<p>“But we must thank you first. Salute, Barbet. +And you, too, M. Emile, you must kiss his hand.”</p> + +<p>And pushing the dog and the hunchback toward +the commissaire, Elise urged them to profuse +thanks. And behind them, she said in her turn:</p> + +<p>“I thank you for M. Emile. I was the cause of +his losing his place, and it was right that I should +secure his reinstallment. Silvere, offer your hand.”</p> + +<p>“Enough! Enough! Leave me. If you do +not all go at once, I shall have to take back my +word. But it is all right. Have you finished at +last? Adieu.”</p> + +<p>All four went out, Barbet dignified, the hunchback +joyful, Elise happy, and Silvere astounded at +her energy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>“You work harder than a man.”</p> + +<p>“Was it I who did it? No, it was Barbet, who +gained the commissaire’s ear by his pleasant ways.”</p> + +<p>It was not Barbet. What had gained the commissaire’s +ear was the voice of pity; that same voice +which, in the first place, had made him engage a +man who was sickly, and, as Elise had said, unable +to earn a living in any other way. Hunchbacks +are doomed from birth to be either shopmen or +clerks.</p> + +<p>By his abrupt dismissal, his chief had meant +simply to teach his impertinent clerk a lesson. He +foresaw the usual attempts at reinstatement, and +knew that the solicitations of the culprit himself, +and his relatives and friends, would give an excuse +to reinstate him. The big fellow, whom he had installed +in the office experimentally, was for no +other purpose than to make M. Emile think his dismissal +final.</p> + +<p>The commissaire had proposed to make his punishment +longer, that it might produce a more lasting +effect. He had meant it to extend over some +weeks, if not months. He had yielded to the entreaties +of Elise, in the belief that it would be a +fresh humiliation for M. Emile to owe his pardon +to simple sailors.</p> + +<p>Besides, Elise and her dog, by their bold frankness, +had touched him, and, when he shut the door +behind his four visitors, he was no less happy than +he supposed they were.</p> + +<p>Hardly were they outside when the hunchback +went to Elise. Great tears of joy ran down his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>face, and stopped hesitatingly on his knotted cheek-bones.</p> + +<p>“I have only one more favor to ask of you, +mademoiselle. Let me embrace you.”</p> + +<p>“It was not I. It was Barbet,” she cried, stepping +back.</p> + +<p>“No, it was you whom the chief wished to please +because you are so lovely. It would please me so +much to thank you.”</p> + +<p>“You must embrace Barbet, too.”</p> + +<p>Then, moved by compassion, she leaned forward +and presented him graciously her two cheeks. The +little hunchback raised himself on tiptoe and +pressed his pale lips, burning with fever, to them. +Then, seizing the dog in his turn, he smothered him +with caresses.</p> + +<p>On the Place of Saint-Valery the scattered sailors, +who saw him weeping and embracing in this singular +fashion, burst into hearty guffaws. It was the +only revenge they had.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">It</span> was the third Sunday in August when Elise, +confident in a happy future and certain that this +time she would have good luck, embarked on the +<i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. She had said farewell to Mother +Pilote, whom she left quite disconsolate, and who +had wished to soften her solitude by keeping Barbet. +But how could Barbet live away from Elise? +He, too, was going to sea.</p> + +<p>It was the beginning of the autumn fishing. +They sought the herring now, not to the north of +Scotland, but in the North Sea near the extreme +limits of England. Doubtless the corvette which +had rescued Firmin would be stationed at Edinburgh +or Berwick. Elise counted on finding some way to +meet him. In the North Sea the fishing-grounds +are more contracted than in the ocean, the boats +are nearer together and communicate more easily. +It would be very strange if they did not meet either +the corvette herself, or at least one of the coasters +who run between the fishers and the nearest English +port.</p> + +<p>Thanks to Silvere, Elise owned a share in the +nets. He had not been willing that she should be +at a disadvantage on account of her poverty, and +had persuaded her to accept a new outfit.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>And the third day after the new moon, these nets +dropped into the water for the first time.</p> + +<p>The <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> had reached the fishing-grounds +at noon only, but the breeze and the +weather were so favorable that they spread the nets +without delay.</p> + +<p>Twilight, with its serene harmony, fell on the sea. +When all the nets had been set and the boat, towed +by them, drifted idly in the current, Elise, fascinated +by the beauty of the night, could not make +up her mind to sleep.</p> + +<p>Stretched on the gunwale beside Silvere, she +watched the golden lights on the changing sea, +which seemed in harmony with her thoughts.</p> + +<p>“Silvere, I think that we love each other more +tenderly when we are together in such tranquil +scenes. Where away is England?”</p> + +<p>For a long time she was silent, looking in the +direction where Silvere had pointed.</p> + +<p>“There is where Firmin is. He was too ambitious +to be a simple coast sailor like us. Do not be +hurt that I think of him. I am so happy to know +that you love me.”</p> + +<p>He said nothing, this big Silvere, so much afraid +was he of startling the tender murmur which just +reached his ears. He overtopped Elise by a full +head, and, bent down toward her, he watched her +with delight, so full of life and so beautiful did she +seem under this soft light.</p> + +<p>“Be sure, Elise, that I am not jealous of Firmin. +We will both love him, as we both love Mother +Pilote. You are not envious of her because I love +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>her. I love you both, but not with the same +warmth. It must be right, because it is human +nature.”</p> + +<p>During two hours of drifting they talked together, +hearing only their own voice and heedless of +the songs that came through the half-open hatch.</p> + +<p>Big Poidevin was drunk. Two hours of his cabin +was equivalent with him to a dozen drinks, just +enough to fill him full. But though his brain might +be drowsy his eye was wide open, and when the +moment came to take up the nets he was the first +on deck, summoning all the men to work.</p> + +<p>“Hollo! Beetle heads! Strike up work.”</p> + +<p>Big Poidevin, an old quartermaster, carried his +liquor as no other veteran aboard.</p> + +<p>When he was full he was as steady as if he was +anchored with four cables. He was the most solid +drinker on the coast. It was his pride, after a dozen +drinks, to keep his balance as steady as if he had +dined on the empty wind.</p> + +<p>As to the rest, he was a good liver and a pleasant +companion. He had no family, and took his pleasures +only in his bottle and glass. He had a horror +of the shore, where, as he said, he did not love to lie +like a boat aground.</p> + +<p>“Hollo! lads! When the capstan snores, the +sailor wakes.”</p> + +<p>The capstan did not snore yet, but it was evident +that he meant to set it at work.</p> + +<p>“Hollo! lads! Wind from the north-east with the +moon. We will take up fish by the binful. Hollo! +All on deck.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span>At the captain’s call, Elise came with Silvere. +They were not of opinion that it was wise to take +up the nets yet. As they had talked, they had now +and then cast an eye on the line of floats, and had +noticed that they had not settled, as was the case +under a catch of fish. The nets were, without +doubt, empty.</p> + +<p>Their advice was sound. After a long discussion +Poidevin agreed to follow it, and disappeared down +the forecastle ladder. He was going back for another +hour to his mug and flask.</p> + +<p>“Let us go and sleep like the others, Lise. You +will be ill if you neglect your sleep.”</p> + +<p>“No, not to-night, Silvere. It is too delicious. +It goes to one’s very heart. I love to watch the +sea, now that it has given back my father.”</p> + +<p>“Lise, dreams are not food. A good sailor, to +keep strong, must eat and sleep. Fishing is hard +enough when one gets one’s rest.”</p> + +<p>“Silvere, look there. The sea seems to be on +fire. Is it not flashing? What say you?”</p> + +<p>Yes, it was the flash of the herring which, like a +trail of phosphorus, drew near them rapidly. The +wave seemed on fire, so filled was it with iridescent +lights; sapphire blue, emerald green, red gold, shading +off into silvery gleams. It was as if a pageant +beneath the water was advancing, with a bewilderment +of gleaming metal and precious gems. It was +impossible to look at it. The moon, ordinarily so +white, seemed, in comparison, of a dirty gray. It +looked so dejected that Elise threw it a glance of +pity.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>“Is it possible that this light in the sea can snuff +out the moon, as she snuffs out the stars? Silvere, +what makes the herring gleam so? They burn the +eyes.”</p> + +<p>She buried her face in his shoulder. He, laughing, +held her dear head with his great hand, which +he tried to make soft for the task.</p> + +<p>“Look, Lise. They are going to rush into our +net. Look, it will be like fireworks.”</p> + +<p>As rapidly as a lake of fire which has burst its +bounds, the school of herring advanced, grazing the +surface of the water, every back and fin scintillating +with light, and lighting up the night with their +blinding gleams.</p> + +<p>“Quick, Lise, they are here.”</p> + +<p>There was a splash of fire like burning coals; an +electric snapping through the whole mass, as if a +stream, arrested by a wall, had dashed back on itself +in foaming fury. All the nets came to the surface +along their length to the very end, in a gleaming +tremor. And the school of herring, dispersing +abruptly, disappeared behind the boat, like the last +rays of an expiring fire.</p> + +<p>After the light had passed, and their eyes, accustomed +again to the twilight, could distinguish objects, +they saw that the nets were dragged down +under the weight of their strangling, struggling +victims.</p> + +<p>“Captain, it is time to haul in. The floats are +sunk.”</p> + +<p>Big Poidevin had had an hour too much. Contrary +to his habit, he scuffled along and staggered. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>When he tried to mount to the deck, he missed the +rounds of the ladder and fell heavily on the planking.</p> + +<p>“This is no time to lose control, captain; the fish +can be taken by armfuls.”</p> + +<p>The captain rose to his feet, furious at losing his +reputation as a hard-headed drinker. He bent all +his energies to gaining the deck without further +weakness, and, the ladder mounted, he called all the +men with a triumphant shout.</p> + +<p>With pantings and groanings from the capstan, +and shouts from the sailors, the work began. As +soon as taken aboard the nets were shaken over the +hatches, into which the fish fell in a phosphorescent +rain. Salt was thrown in with them, and when the +hatches were filled to the very top all hands were +ready for a chowder. They had caught thousands.</p> + +<p>It was the next day at noon only that the work +was finished. In a single night more than half the +boat’s bins were full, half of their catch was taken. +Six hundred measures. It was wonderful.</p> + +<p>They spread their nets again the next night and +the nights after that. While the fishing is good no +one minds hard work and each day brings variety.</p> + +<p>They caught after that, according to the weather, +from two hundred measures at most, down to fifty +and even twenty-five.</p> + +<p>The chance to meet a school at the right moment +does not come twice.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXV.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">At</span> daybreak of the twenty-first day the boat was +still fishing. Like the herring, she had moved +southward insensibly, but without leaving the neighborhood +of Scotland. At every hour of the day +Elise searched the horizon for the corvette and Firmin, +but saw no trace of them.</p> + +<p>Always bad luck. In twenty days they had not +only not seen the corvette, but not even a coaster +from some English port. They were so near one +another, they wished for one another so much, and +yet could not meet.</p> + +<p>Well, she would force fortune to yield yet; she +would discover the corvette if she put out her eyes +in trying to pierce the horizon. She passed all her +spare moments standing on the gunwale peering +into space, but it gave no answer to her heart’s +desire. At first she had tried to watch at night, +too, but she simply used herself up uselessly, for +she could not distinguish between the lanterns, and +thought she recognized the corvette by the cut of +her sails, only to find out, after a long examination, +that in the half light she had mistaken a small boat +for a large vessel.</p> + +<p>Then she had given up night watching as useless, +but every morning, before the first rays of dawn +had pierced the shadows, she was on the deck +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>and there she stayed until the last glimmer of +light.</p> + +<p>She began to be desperate, because the boat was +slowly filling its bunks, and the end of the cruise +was near at hand.</p> + +<p>She was on duty that morning at the helm, and +was tacking about waiting until it was time to cast +the nets. Silvere was below asleep, but Barbet +watched beside his mistress. Unhappy Barbet. +He did not like it on board at all, for it was his first +voyage. He had passed through a wretched novitiate. +Sick at heart, he lay stretched among the +piles of nets, groaning at each movement of the +boat, and hardly having strength to open his eyes +at Elise’s voice.</p> + +<p>For five days he had counted his shirts, as the +sailors mockingly say. Then he had become used +to it all, and after that Barbet feared the motion no +more than any old hand. At that moment he +raised his nose and ears and yelped, to advise Elise +that she was nearing something unusual.</p> + +<p>She thought at first that he saw the corvette and +was announcing Firmin, but though she looked all +about, she could see nothing like the government +boat.</p> + +<p>Until then they had come across trading steamers +only, and especially coal ships, heavy in their build, +and a solid mass of black. They are clumsy to +handle, have a small crew, and cannot easily change +their course. They go right on without regard to +other vessels, and small boats must look sharp and +keep out of their way. They do not mind a collision +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>in the least, for they cannot be capsized. +They are afraid of one another only.</p> + +<p>They can be seen in these seas in troops. Elise +kept a sharp lookout for them while she was at the +helm. She had told Barbet to announce them, +but it was not one of these which he was signalling +now.</p> + +<p>“What is it then, Barbet. Is it those breakers +that we can just make out before us? They look +like a floating island.”</p> + +<p>The dog yelped louder.</p> + +<p>“Don’t be impatient. We will run down to +them. As well go there as elsewhere. Misery! +They look like nets. You say, yes, Barbet? I +think that a boat must have been lost. Tell me, is +it one of ours? You are not telling the truth! No! +do not deceive me. It is not the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>—I +should be too wretched if any harm came to Florimond. +Quick, Barbet, go and bring Silvere!”</p> + +<p>The dog made one bound to the forecastle, and +returned at once, dragging by his trouser’s leg big +Silvere, who was still half asleep.</p> + +<p>“Tell the captain to order a boat, to go and see +what is floating there.”</p> + +<p>When the captain was asleep he did not like to be +waked. The boat was in the water towing behind.</p> + +<p>On his own responsibility Silvere dropped into it +with two men. They quickly reached the nets, +which were so snarled together that they seemed +like a heap of rocks.</p> + +<p>Nets and floats drifted at the pleasure of the current +like a raft. The men climbed on them as +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>securely as on a projecting reef. They walked +across them, digging and prodding with their boat-hooks.</p> + +<p>“Not a man under them,” cried Silvere to Elise.</p> + +<p>He lifted one of the floats and read the marks +painted around its middle.</p> + +<p>S. V. S. S. 1234.</p> + +<p>Is it Florimond’s number? Yes. Barbet was +right. Twelve hundred and thirty-four was the +number of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. The four letters indicated +Saint-Valery-sur-Somme. There was no question +about it.</p> + +<p>“Look further, Silvere. I am surprised, if his +sloop were uninjured, that my cousin should have +abandoned his nets. He would sooner have towed +them into some English port.”</p> + +<p>Fresh examination brought no other results. +The herring, fast here and there in the meshes and +quite fresh, showed that the accident had been +recent.</p> + +<p>The three men searched a long time for the end +of the hawser to find out whether it was cut or torn. +If it were cut it was the work of thieves; if it were +torn it would show that there had been a collision. +But it was hidden away in the tangle of cordage +and rope, and they could not find it.</p> + +<p>“Count the floats, Silvere. I should say at a +glance that they were all there.”</p> + +<p><i>Parbleu!</i> There are a hundred at least here—as +many over there—thirty more—there are so many +they cannot count them.</p> + +<p>The whole outfit was there, adrift.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>“It is very perplexing, Silvere. I am of opinion +that the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> is a bad risk.”</p> + +<p>While the three men were returning Elise consulted +Barbet.</p> + +<p>“Barbet, can you tell me where Cousin Florimond +is?”</p> + +<p>The dog, who was seated quietly on his hind +quarters, rose on his four feet. He placed himself +face to the wind, which came from the north-east, +and for a long time tried to scent something. But +he could not. He scowled, sniffed contemptuously, +and appeared dissatisfied with the weather and himself. +He turned slowly a quarter or third of a circle, +trimming himself in the wind.</p> + +<p>In the west he could perceive nothing. In the +north-west he thought he had a trace, his hair +bristled up as he barked loudly; then he stopped discouraged, +and sat down again, shaking his big head +as if to say: “It is useless to try. In these half-breezes +of summer the air lies still, and the scent +does not travel at all.”</p> + +<p>“Come, Barbet, I never knew you to weary over +your work. You have not smelled in every direction.”</p> + +<p>The dog walked about idly.</p> + +<p>“Barbet, I beg you. It is wicked not to do your +best to help others. I beg you.”</p> + +<p>He started again at the north-west, and scented +afresh without perceiving anything, and, simply to +please his mistress, turned slowly around like the +needle of a compass on its dial. No trace was to be +found in the west or south, and he sat down again.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>“Barbet, you are bad. You put no heart in your +work. If you cannot act honorably I will not have +you any longer for my shipmate.”</p> + +<p>Elise and Barbet were shipmates, that is, they +slept together. Sailors sleep two in a bunk, and the +number of bunks being limited she had great difficulty +in arranging that Barbet should share hers. +For him, it was the pleasantest moment of the +cruise. When the time came for sleep he let Elise +lie at the back, while he stretched himself, his head +on his paws, facing outward.</p> + +<p>As long as there was any noise in the place he lay +thus, sleeping that half-sleep of dogs who know how +to watch with their eyes shut. But after each relief, +when those who had come down last were sleeping +in their turn, and he heard their heavy snores, then, +easy in his mind, he slipped up to Elise, laid his +head on her and gave himself up to pleasant dreams.</p> + +<p>The rolling of the boat rocked him softly, and +Barbet abandoned himself to the joy of feeling +under his head the rise and fall of her warm breast.</p> + +<p>For nothing in the world would he have risked so +delightful a place. At Elise’s threat he sprang up, +ready for anything rather than lose his shipmate. +He began turning about again.</p> + +<p>West-south-west—nothing. South-west—south-south-west—nothing. +South-south a quarter east.</p> + +<p>“Have you gone crazy, Barbet? You are upsetting +me.”</p> + +<p>The dog pulled Elise by the leg. Seeing that she +did not understand he threw himself on the tiller, +as if to push it in the direction he wished.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>When she was steering as he wished, he ran forward +to the jib, and by leaps and snaps forced the +sailor on duty there to shift the sheet.</p> + +<p>The boat tacked and ran south a quarter south-east.</p> + +<p>Then, proud as a commander on his deck, Barbet +with a leap settled himself on a cask not far from +Elise, and from there watched at the same time the +helm, the sails, and the horizon, to see that the +boat should not make leeway from the strength of +a current.</p> + +<p>Elise had a fresh cause for anxiety. She had +been sent to the helm, and was responsible for carrying +out the orders given her.</p> + +<p>She had no right to deviate from them without +fresh directions from the captain. She called Silvere:</p> + +<p>“Wake up Poidevin. We have no right to change +our course unless he directs it.”</p> + +<p>Silvere hesitated. He knew what he would get +by disturbing Poidevin’s sleep; insults and a refusal, +nothing more.</p> + +<p>“Very well, then I will awake him myself. Perhaps +he will be less disagreeable to a woman.”</p> + +<p>And confiding the boat to Silvere, Elise started +down the ladder. Barbet tried to follow her.</p> + +<p>“No, stay behind, Barbet. You know that the +skipper does not like you since the day when you +upset his grog. One should not be clumsy if they +want to make friends.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Elise</span> was all in a tremble, and her heart beat fast +as she descended the ladder of the hatch and heard +the heavy breathing of the captain, who lay there +snoring. But her uneasiness at knowing that the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> was in distress, and the fear of bringing +help too late, decided her.</p> + +<p>“Captain—it is I—I am sorry, but it is important.”</p> + +<p>“Heu—Heu”—Big Poidevin turned over to sleep +on the other side.</p> + +<p>“Captain, listen, it is important.”</p> + +<p>Elise had no reply. She put out her hand and +struck him lightly on his fat shoulder.</p> + +<p>“Beetle head! Don’t touch me, or beware.”</p> + +<p>And the captain buried his head in the fold of his +arm with a growl that did not admit of further +urging.</p> + +<p>Elise went back to the deck, called one of the sailors +to the helm, and taking Silvere by the arm led +him to the forecastle.</p> + +<p>“I shall be bolder with you. I will hold your +hand so as to add your strength to mine. Come +Barbet, one cannot have too many friends to encourage +one.”</p> + +<p>All three climbed down, Elise helped by her lover, +and happy this time, for she knew that she had the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>support of one man in facing another. She knew +that Silvere was not a coward, for she had had good +proof. She felt her strength increased by his +strength, her courage by his courage.</p> + +<p>“Captain, you must wake up.”</p> + +<p>Poidevin snorted like a mad whale. He struck +with his fist the wall of his bunk, heavily enough to +wake all the other sleepers.</p> + +<p>“By my sainted mother!”</p> + +<p>“South, a quarter south-east, captain.”</p> + +<p>“Let me sleep.”</p> + +<p>“It is on account of Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>“Florimond! He is not worth even a half mug +of grog.”</p> + +<p>“He is in trouble, captain! We must help him!”</p> + +<p>“A braggart! Let him get himself out of trouble, +he who is so superior to others.”</p> + +<p>“All the same, captain, you must get up and——”</p> + +<p>“No! Death of my soul, no!”</p> + +<p>And for the third time Poidevin went to sleep.</p> + +<p>“Then I am going to take the helm. You will +hold me blameless?”</p> + +<p>“By my sainted mother!”</p> + +<p>That was Poidevin’s oath, his unusual exclamation, +when he wished to put an end to a discussion and +was thoroughly angry.</p> + +<p>“Very well, captain, by your mother and by all that +is dear to you, I tell you that you must go to the help +of these men in danger and misery. If any are lost +through your fault you will suffer tortures of mind. +You will see them at night in bodily presence, with +eyes which reproach you and fingers which point at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>you. You will see them pale from lack of sleep, and +you will have no more sleep yourself. It is not right +to stupefy one’s self with drink and leave others to +die. They will pursue you, Poidevin. You may +drink harder than ever, but you will see them as +plainly as if you were sober. I saw my father and +I wanted to die. I tell you that you must get up.”</p> + +<p>Poidevin sat up stupidly. With his little gray +eyes, all sunk in their sockets, he looked at Elise, +then at Silvere, then at the other sailors who had +been drawn by the noise of the dispute.</p> + +<p>“Come, follow up their tracks, captain. Lise is +right. Sailors ought to stand by one another.”</p> + +<p>Growling and shaking off painfully his stupor, the +captain struggled to his feet, then climbed out and +went to the helm. He noted their course and +approved it, and the boat sailed on south a quarter +south-east.</p> + +<p>Then Elise, exhausted by her efforts and overcome +by her feelings, fell into Silvere’s arms.</p> + +<p>“Lise, Lise, my beloved, you are more observant +than any man and handier than any woman.”</p> + +<p>And he drew her close to his heart and lips in an +irresistible outburst of admiration.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>For an hour now they had run in the direction +pointed out by Barbet, and had seen nothing. +Poidevin had become sober through impatience. +They would lose their clue to the herring; they would +lose a day’s fishing, and all for the pleasure of following +a dog’s suggestions. He would allow ten +minutes, but not another minute more. If they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>waited until night in order to find themselves in the +bed of the fish they risked going to bed themselves +without any.</p> + +<p>The more the time ran on without any results the +more anxiously did Elise scan the sea.</p> + +<p>“Barbet, you have not deceived me?”</p> + +<p>The dog did not answer. He was mortified that +they should have doubted him. For an hour Elise +had been troubling him to repeat every little while +the same signal, and he was annoyed in his turn. +Silent and resolute, his eye fixed on the point +whence came the scent of the shipwrecked men, he +waited to see them before speaking.</p> + +<p>The ten minutes passed. Poidevin had no watch, +but he could tell the time by the sun without ever +being out a second. It was a good enough watch +for him; it wound itself and did not have to be +carried in the pocket.</p> + +<p>Noting its position above the horizon the moment +he saw the time was up, he shouted:</p> + +<p>“Get ready to come about. Loose the jib-sheet!”</p> + +<p>“No, Poidevin, just ten minutes more and I will +not ask for another one. I promise you, Poidevin.”</p> + +<p>“Ready to come about!”</p> + +<p>“They cannot be far, captain, from the drift of +their nets. Barbet, do you see nothing? Speak, +my old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>The dog remained silent, and the captain undecided.</p> + +<p>“Ten minutes. Is it too much to give for peace +of mind? You will be glad of it, Poidevin.”</p> + +<p>Ten minutes short as ten seconds.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>They sailed fast, but found nothing.</p> + +<p>Nothing on the horizon. A boat is large enough +to be seen far off. One can distinguish it easily. +But there were only the colliers, with their heavy +rigging and their black sails. Poidevin had his eye +on the sun. The second ten minutes passed.</p> + +<p>“Ready to come about! Loose the jib-sheet.”</p> + +<p>“Captain, if you knew how I suffered on my +father’s account, you would risk five minutes more. +Five minutes—will you condemn yourself for so +little time?”</p> + +<p>“You trouble me, Lise. We fairly creep along +now under our load of fish. Will it take us as long +to go back as it has to come? If we once lose the +fish, who knows when we shall find them again.”</p> + +<p>“We will all take a hand in working her.”</p> + +<p>“You talk nonsense. Can you push the boat?”</p> + +<p>“Captain, do not punish yourself. You do not +know the torment it brings. Do you see nothing, +my old Barbet? If you see ever so little, tell Poidevin.”</p> + +<p>Barbet kept perfectly silent.</p> + +<p>“Ready to come about! Loose the jib-sheet.”</p> + +<p>And without further hesitation the boat headed +back on the way she had come. In despair, as she +thought of her cousin Florimond, so fine and so +strong, whom the envious sea would soon claim, Elise +sank down on the deck.</p> + +<p>“Luff her. Hug the wind.”</p> + +<p>“Captain, I beg you——”</p> + +<p>“Give her nearly a full.”</p> + +<p>“Captain, Barbet speaks—come about!—Barbet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>has spoken!—Come about, quickly!—Yes! over +there!—No!—Barbet is fooling us!—That is not a +boat!—It is more like a beacon!—The glass——”</p> + +<p>Elise was at the hatch before she had finished +speaking. She slipped from the ladder in her haste +to go down, but, picking herself up seized the glass, +and, climbing quickly back, adjusted it.</p> + +<p>“Come about, captain; there are three men there. +They seem to be on a buoy.”</p> + +<p>She ran to Poidevin, and placed it before his eyes. +She trembled so that he could see nothing.</p> + +<p>“Let me have it alone. You jiggle it so under +my nose that you upset all my ideas.”</p> + +<p>He squared it, correcting the range carefully, and +looked for a third time. Elise trembled with nervous +anxiety. Finally Poidevin made them out. +He threw himself on the helm, and, with a voice like +a roll of thunder:</p> + +<p>“Hoist all sail. Do not lose a breath of wind. +Head south, a quarter south-east.”</p> + +<p>The boat again turned in the direction of the castaways. +The men who were not working her struggled +for the glass. They could nearly make out +the wreckage with the naked eye, but the glass +showed more than three men. There were six, +astride of a mast, a buoy, or a beacon; they could +not tell what it was.</p> + +<p>“Get the small boat ready. Take boat-hooks and +ropes.”</p> + +<p>The boat could not sail fast enough to please the +captain. Big Poidevin was warm-hearted when he +was not in liquor. He hated to cry, for it gave him +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>a cold; but his eyes filled with tears, so greatly was +he moved at these men’s sufferings.</p> + +<p>“Death of my soul, Elise! they will owe you a +good turn, those fellows there, if they ever realize +what you have done for them.”</p> + +<p>“Let us make haste, captain. The sailors can +make out only five men through the glass. There +were certainly six. One must have fallen.”</p> + +<p>There were not even five, but only four, when the +sloop reached them. All had seen the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> +coming, but their strength had not held +out.</p> + +<p>Elise slipped hurriedly into the small boat, taking +with her Silvere and two sailors. She was to steer, +Silvere held himself free for the work of rescue, and +the two sailors were to row.</p> + +<p>They drew near the wretched men, who were +clinging to a boat’s mast, as they could tell by the +rigging and by the tin pennant, which was still +showing the direction of the wind, as if in irony.</p> + +<p>The <i>Bon-Pêcheur’s</i> hull had been crushed, and, +before she disappeared forever, she lay floating out +of sight; as if in the last effort of a faithful servant +to offer in her top-mast a place of refuge for the survivors +of her crew.</p> + +<p>Florimond was there. They learned later on the +details of the disaster. He had been run down the +night before, while fishing. A collier, rather than +swerve a trifle from her course, had gone over +the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, which, hampered in her movements +by the floating nets, had not been able to avoid her. +Twelve men, including the boy, had taken refuge in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>the small boat, which was capable, at most, of holding +half that number. What had become of them?</p> + +<p>For fifteen hours the other six had clung to the +main-mast.</p> + +<p>They had seen craft of all kinds. In those seas +they were nearly as common as vehicles on a road +on shore; but no one had seen them, or had wanted to +see them. They were about to let go, in exhaustion +and despair, when the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> had appeared. +Two of them, alas! had not been able to +hold out for the few minutes until help came.</p> + +<p>“Keep up your courage, Cousin Florimond. Pull +hard, men. Aim well, Silvere.”</p> + +<p>It was not easy to come alongside the men. The +rigging around the mast kept the boat off, and +made it necessary for them to slide down into the +water and be fished out afterward with the gaff. +They were so weak, so nearly at their last gasp, and +so spent that they could do nothing to help themselves. +Unconsciously, as it were, they clung fast, +seeming to have lost all power of thought and action. +The captain was highest on the mast, and the +three men were below him.</p> + +<p>“Aim straight, Silvere. Slide down, Old Quarrelsome.”</p> + +<p>Old Quarrelsome was a well-known sailor of the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, and a great hand to use his fists or his +knife. Elise knew him, for she had made her first +cruise with him, and had often seen him among her +enemies. How many times he had stirred up Florimond +against her. It was he who held the jigger-sheet +when Silvere and Barnabé had quarrelled, and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>who had urged them on by his cries. Elise forgot +it all, and Silvere, too, had no desire to recall it.</p> + +<p>“Hurry, Old Quarrelsome, the others are waiting.”</p> + +<p>The man did not dare to move. His mind was +weakened, as well as his body. He looked at them +stupidly, as if he did not understand. A kick on +the head, which Florimond brutally dealt him, made +him loose his hold. He plunged and disappeared, +but the gaff followed and he came to the surface +with it fast to him, like a sturgeon at the end of a +harpoon, and was quickly hauled aboard.</p> + +<p>It was the second man’s turn. He was an orphan +and nearly an idiot, whom the sailors called +Stutterer. It was, doubtless, partly through pity, for +words failed him more from stupidity than from any +trouble with his tongue. Elise knew him, too, as +she knew all the men on the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>. Ill-tempered +by reason of his infirmity, he had treated her +roughly at times. She forgave him.</p> + +<p>“Slide down, Stutterer.”</p> + +<p>He clung stupidly to the mast, uttering cries like +a monkey in distress. A kick, which resounded on +his hard skull, knocked him senseless into the water, +where he was seized by the hook of the gaff and +was soon with his fellow in the boat.</p> + +<p>“Hurrah! Silvere!” shouted Poidevin and all his +men, as from the deck of the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> they +watched this strange fishing. “Hurrah!”</p> + +<p>They had to go to the other side of the mast to +get the third man. He could not help himself any +more than the others. He clung more firmly even +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>than they, and did not drop until he had received +four kicks. He was unconscious when he was +hauled in at the end of Silvere’s unerring gaff.</p> + +<p>Then they rowed to the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> to carry +the three men whom they had rescued, for the boat +was already overloaded.</p> + +<p>“We will come back for you, Florimond. Hold +fast.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be uneasy, Lise. I can hang on as long +as necessary. I am not an old woman.”</p> + +<p>Florimond was always a man of surprises. He +was stronger than any one. After hanging at arm’s +length for fifteen hours, he could have hung on another +day and night. When he saw the boat returning +he slid down the mast to the water, refused +the aid of the gaff which was held him, and struck +out, like a virtuoso in his bath, to swim to them.</p> + +<p>He was fine, was Florimond. His muscular arms +cleft the water, above which towered his proud, +bronzed face. Suddenly he started, and stopped as +if caught fast.</p> + +<p>“Help, Silvere!”</p> + +<p>The gaff was within reach of his hand, but he +could not seize it. His rigid fingers stood out stiffly +for some instants above the water, and then disappeared.</p> + +<p>“Do not let him die, Silvere. To the rescue, my +old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>The dog leaped overboard and reappeared presently, +splashing like a cat, with a piece of a blouse +in his mouth. The gaff came to his aid and dragged +up a bundle of flesh and clothes, which seemed lifeless. +But the arms suddenly clutched the offered +help. “Haul him in, Silvere. He is saved!”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_238a.jpg" width="450" height="700" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">HIS RIGID FINGERS STOOD OUT STIFFLY FOR SOME INSTANTS + ABOVE THE WATER.</p> + <p>Chap. 26.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>“Misery! Help, Poidevin!”</p> + +<p>Dragged down by Florimond’s weight and thrown +off his balance, Silvere went headlong into the sea.</p> + +<p>“Help, Poidevin!”</p> + +<p>But he was too far away to help. With a turn of +her arm, Elise made fast a rope around her waist.</p> + +<p>“Hold firmly, men, and haul hard after I have +dived.”</p> + +<p>She threw herself headlong. The sailors hauled +in the rope. What a strange mass came with her! +In the last agonies of a drowning man Florimond +had seized Silvere in a desperate clutch. They +struggled hand to hand, one clutching, the other +pushing him off. In the fierceness of the struggle +they escaped from Elise’s grasp, and disappeared +a second time. She dived again. Slowly she came +back to the surface, drawn by the rope, and dragging +her burden with both hands.</p> + +<p>“My strength is all gone. Florimond drags us +down.”</p> + +<p>Barbet heard her cry. He had recovered his +breath, and was swimming about, waiting until he +could be of use. He dashed forward, and, seizing +Florimond by the throat, strangled him until he +loosed his hold.</p> + +<p>Elise helped first Silvere, then Florimond, who, +in his mighty arms, convulsively clutched Barbet, +whom he half crushed.</p> + +<p>Elise dived again.</p> + +<p>What could she be searching for, now that they +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>were all safe—Silvere, Barbet, and Florimond? +Did she hope to recover the two men of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i> +who had fallen, overcome by weakness, the +moment before the arrival of the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>? +Alas, the waves had swept them away as they +pleased!</p> + +<p>“Get aboard, Lise. Your Barbet is badly hurt.”</p> + +<p>“What is it? Misery! Hurry, men, and pull +me in.”</p> + +<p>Half pulled, half climbing, Elise scrambled into +the boat. She found Barbet with rattling breath, +his tongue hanging out, foam on his lips, and only +the whites of his eyes visible.</p> + +<p>“Speak to me, my old Barbet. Tell me that you +are not hurt. It would be too hard to lose your +life in saving those of others, old Barbet.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Barbet</span> was cared for like a child. Stretched on +a soft bed of nets and bagging, he had the bunk all +to himself. Elise had given it up to him. Sick +people must have comforts. She herself slept, sitting +on a box near his bed, and, like a true shipmate, +took the best care of him.</p> + +<p>She made endless dressings and cooling drinks +for him. He would turn his eye, lighted with the +wild gleams of fever, toward her, then his head would +drop weakly and slowly back.</p> + +<p>“Get well quickly, my old Barbet. What will +Firmin say to see you in this plight? He will scold +me for having let you get hurt.”</p> + +<p>Barbet did not show any interest at all at the +name of Firmin. He was interested only in the +things of life that appealed to his heart. Was it +likely that he would be moved at the thought of a +lad who dared more for ambition than for friendship. +He wished to get well, truly, but only to please +Elise, whom he had always loved, who loved him in +her sorrow as well as in her joy, when he was sick +and when he was well alike.</p> + +<p>He had nearly died, and all through a misunderstanding. +In throwing himself on Florimond, he +had wanted simply to free Silvere, and make the +task of saving him more easy. His good intentions +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>had been badly repaid, for he had been nearly +throttled in a moment of furious rage by the man +whom he was trying to succor.</p> + +<p>Florimond himself, strong as always, had not suffered +long from the shock. He was one of those +who leave illness to others, and keep none for themselves. +A night’s rest made him forget all his +bodily fatigue.</p> + +<p>But he did not find it so easy to forget his troubles +of mind.</p> + +<p>Not that he was much concerned at the loss of +his boat. He counted on the insurance companies +making that good. Apart from his boat he was +rich. An old aunt, who admired his strength and +beauty, had made him her heir. Since then he had +been in a position where he not only need not sail +himself, but might own ships sent out in charge of +others. He loved the sea so much that he had not +been able to leave her. To-day he was tired of her. +He had found out what pleasure she takes in betraying +those upon whom she has piled up her +favors.</p> + +<p>She was the true culprit, and he had had the +meanness to persecute another when the fault had +been hers. Poor Elise. He had harassed her and +had accused her of a betrayal of trust, and now he +knew that she was innocent. He had caused her +great distress, and, for her revenge, she had saved +his life.</p> + +<p>Without her he would have been drowned, and, +from abyss to abyss in that endless waste of waters, +dragged down by the weight of his sins, he would +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>have tossed about pitilessly with staring eyes, his +body eaten by fishes, his soul in torture. She had +saved him not only from death, but from the pains +of expiation.</p> + +<p>Courageous under all circumstances, forgetful of +injuries, strong in her sacrifice of self, how had he +failed to appreciate her! Her heart was as noble as +her face was pure. Was she really to marry Silvere, +a man without shoulders or chest, all length +and no breadth? If he were rich even, this big gull; +but he was not well enough off to be even a captain. +His father had made large sums in his trade as pilot, +but unfortunately he had not managed well, for +they had gone to assist his neighbors, and in kindly +acts which had not helped the donor.</p> + +<p>Florimond paced the deck of the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>, +full of troubled thoughts. He was tired to death +of the forecastle, the close air distressed him. He +was at ease only under the lash of the breeze, for +his heart was full of disquiet.</p> + +<p>Sometimes when he met him on the deck, so +overcome with melancholy, Poidevin would throw +him a comforting word.</p> + +<p>“It is better to drown your trouble, Captain +Florimond, than to let it drown you. Come, the +jug of grog is waiting. It would not be fair to let +it go dry from lack of notice.”</p> + +<p>But neither rum nor any other spirits could console +Florimond. Poidevin had to drink alone, and +he did his best at it, looking into his mug for +good advice.</p> + +<p>He had not completed the cruise; that is to say, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>all his bins were not filled, but he could not make +up his mind whether he had better head for home +or not.</p> + +<p>In looking for the castaways they had lost the +herring, and had not been able to find them, although +they had tried thoroughly. Besides, in +spite of the advanced season, the days were warm, +and the fish might ferment in the hold. The first +week of September had gone, the equinoctial storms +were at hand. It was the time of the year when +squalls are so common that one meets them at every +turn. Decidedly it would be better to save what +fish they had and pass a week ashore. Such was +the advice which the captain decided to follow after +a whole day’s session with his mug.</p> + +<p>“Well, lads, the cruise is over. Tell the man at +the wheel to head for home.”</p> + +<p>Elise was busy near Barbet, when she heard him +shout this out at the top of his voice.</p> + +<p>She started as she heard it. And Firmin? +Should she not see him again? To leave the Scotch +seas was to give up the hope of meeting him. Without +stopping to think she ran to Poidevin.</p> + +<p>“Take me first to England, captain, I want to +see my boy.”</p> + +<p>Well as he knew Elise’s plans, and thoroughly as +he had decided not to oppose them, at least unless +compliance with them menaced the safety of the boat, +Poidevin was stunned at her demand. He raised +his arms above his head, and murmured some ill-humored +exclamations.</p> + +<p>“Death of my soul! You think no more of flaunting +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>your demands in our faces than in turning a +quid in your mouth. I should be a fool to do as +you wish. Try to meet your corvette on the way +home, or you will have no chance of seeing your +Firmin. What do you expect? it is the way of our +trade.”</p> + +<p>“You must take me, captain; I came with the +expectation of seeing my boy. I will not go until I +have succeeded in my plan.”</p> + +<p>“By my sainted mother!”</p> + +<p>Poidevin turned his back so angrily that Elise +saw that it was useless to insist. She passed the +night near Barbet, and at dawn went on deck to +begin her outlook again.</p> + +<p>Through constant watching her eyes had gained +an unusual power, so that the most distant and the +most fleeting objects were clear to them.</p> + +<p>It was hardly four o’clock. The horizon was indistinct +by reason of a haze or fog. At intervals +she thought she could make out some black dots, +but they speedily disappeared. Then more anxiously +than ever she searched the great expanse, as +if at any moment there might start forth the well-appointed +corvette she was looking for.</p> + +<p>Elise thought sadly that over yonder, behind the +fogs, was a coast that now she had no chance of +knowing. There were the shores of Scotland +stretching away, green under the majestic reaches +of ancient forests. Scotland, rich and beautiful as +a land preferred of nature, was already far away; +for, for seven hours they had sailed southward and +they had passed the northern bounds of England. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span>Edinburgh and Berwick! Elise had given up hope +of ever seeing them.</p> + +<p>That night they should reach the neighborhood +of the gulf into which the Thames pours its muddy +and impure waters. The air is black with smoke, +the sky itself is darkened. Its outlines cannot be +distinguished from the open sea because its shores +are low, but it can easily be known from the number +of steamers inward bound. Elise dreaded to +reach it, for once there, it would be foolish to hope +any longer.</p> + +<p>Was not that smoke on the northern horizon? +No; it was only a flock of sea-gulls which had +waked with the day.</p> + +<p>Misery! Should the big sister have less courage +than her little brother? He had discovered a way +of escape from the <i>flambart</i>, ought she to hesitate? +She would buy Poidevin’s small boat, paying for it +with her nets; she would take Silvere, and they +would row ashore, they two, and would find Firmin.</p> + +<p>On government ships the discipline is strict and +the officers are harsh. With his spirit of insubordination +the lad would suffer; he would want his +sister. Without doubt he asked for her every +night in his prayers, and was consumed with desire +to see her.</p> + +<p>There was no time to lose. Elise raised herself +to go and strike a bargain with the captain. But +big Poidevin was still asleep. The night before he +had had a great orgy in the forecastle, and he had +drunk to his decision to return, emptying his mug +twice more than usual.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>No, it was not a flight of sea-gulls which made +that long trail in the sky. It was really smoke, but +not so thick, heavy, and black as that of the colliers.</p> + +<p>What was the use of hoping! It was probably a +steamer, like so many others, sailing from some +English port. Poidevin might be angry if he +wished; well, let him be; when one wishes a thing +ought not one dare ask for it?</p> + +<p>But this vessel really began to look like a corvette; +her outlines became distinct. Through the +glass, which never left her, Elise made out presently +three top-masts and their yards rising gradually +above the sea. The breeze was soft that morning, +and her smoke, which rose high and straight, was +seen first.</p> + +<p>The lower masts appeared in their turn, and at +last the hull with her guns. It was certainly a corvette +under steam and sail. She was now clearly in +the field of the glass. She cleft the waves with her +graceful lines, and seemed as if following in their +wake and in pursuit of them. In a quarter of +an hour she would overtake the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. +It was certainly she! French colors! Yes it was +she, and Firmin was aboard.</p> + +<p>She could hardly keep her feet, she trembled so +with delight. Suddenly she recovered herself, and, +bursting like a puff of wind into the forecastle, cried +with the full force of her lungs:</p> + +<p>“Silvere, the corvette! We shall see Firmin.”</p> + +<p>All the sailors were roused from their dreams; +Poidevin alone snored on. Silvere sprang to his feet +ready to share the delight of his betrothed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>“Examine her yourself, Silvere. I am sure my +heart has not deceived me.”</p> + +<p>Then hurriedly Elise went to the bunk where +Barbet lay uncomplainingly.</p> + +<p>“Our little Firmin is close at hand, my old Barbet. +If you would only get well quickly we should +be so happy, we three. What makes you scowl so? +It is bad not to trust in the love of one’s friends. +I will go away, you pain me.”</p> + +<p>Two light barks recalled Elise. The dog turned +toward her his mournful head and his sombre eyes.</p> + +<p>“I forgive you, my old Barbet. Sick people are +always restless and full of suspicion. Our Firmin +does not forget you.”</p> + +<p>And Elise laid her cheek softly against his nose.</p> + +<p>“Always a warm nose, Barbet, and always these +shivers! You need land air to set you up again. +This time we will go home without any regrets.”</p> + +<p>She petted him, gently smiling, stroking his head +where the temples beat with fever, and his neck, +whose warmth she loved, but which was now burning +hot. She ran to get a fresh draught, and carefully +and patiently, spoonful by spoonful, she made +the sick dog drink. Then she dried his lips and put +all her affection in a good-by kiss.</p> + +<p>Opening her box, which lay in front of the bunk, +she took out of it her best skirt and her most coquettish +hat, and taking off her sou’wester and her oilskin +dress, arrayed herself as if for a high holiday. +She threw a last smile at Barbet.</p> + +<p>“Do not be uneasy, my old Barbet. I will bring +Firmin as soon as he mounts the deck.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>And while the dog followed her with a mournful +look, as if overcome by some dismal foreboding, she +hurried away. She was up the ladder in two bounds, +and started as she saw the corvette flying the French +flag close to them. She climbed the bulwarks +quickly and clung there, looking for Firmin.</p> + +<p>She saw him at the very end of the bowsprit, with +nothing else to steady himself by but the ropes. +There he stood, at least fifty feet away from the deck, +in advance of the ship, as if hovering in the air +above the sea. He was like one of those bold +figures which imagination gives as guides to ships +on allegorical voyages.</p> + +<p>Elise was so frightened that she had to get down, +half dazed, from the bulwarks to the solid surface of +the deck.</p> + +<p>It was truly her lad, unconscious of danger, as he +always was. She did not dare to make a sign or utter +a word, for fear he should be startled and lose his +balance. She hid herself behind a corner of the +sail, and had not yet regained her composure when +the corvette came to leeward of the sloop, took in +sail so as to fetch her, and began to run alongside +in order to hail.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jeune-Adolphine.</i> Captain Amable Poidevin. +Official orders!”</p> + +<p>The captain, hastily forewarned, appeared at that +moment, still half dazed with sleep. He announced +himself at once as the captain, and the boat stopped +while the corvette came alongside.</p> + +<p>The interchange of words between the two boats +was short. A letter from the maritime prefect had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>arrived two days before at the station at Plymouth, +ordering them to search in the Scotch seas for the +<i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>, and to transfer to her the lad rescued +from the sea. This letter was the result of +steps taken jointly by the under-commissaires of +Treport and Saint-Valery. They had joined forces +in order to arrange for Elise a surprise, and to give +her the pleasure of bringing home her brother.</p> + +<p>Orders were called out on the deck of the corvette.</p> + +<p>“Boatswain!”</p> + +<p>An old sailor with deep wrinkles came forward.</p> + +<p>“Bring the boy, Hénin.”</p> + +<p>On hearing this order, Elise could not restrain herself.</p> + +<p>“Firmin, my dear boy, my Firmin, hurry. I cannot +wait.”</p> + +<p>But when the boatswain came to call him, Firmin +steadied himself by the rope and did not budge.</p> + +<p>Elise was wild with impatience.</p> + +<p>“Firmin, you break my heart by your delay. +Come quickly. You will see Barbet.”</p> + +<p>The boy was obstinate. Neither pleasant nor +sharp words succeeded in bringing him to the deck. +The boatswain ordered them to seize him. Two sailors +sat astride the bowsprit, and gradually worked +their way almost to the rebel. But how were they to +stand erect on this slippery pole hardly large enough +for the feet of a bird, and, if once erect, how could +they struggle with him without twenty times risking +a plunge into the sea?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>The boy impassible, with a steady look and perfectly +determined, watched them approach.</p> + +<p>He had been told of the orders which had come +concerning him, and refused to leave the vessel. +The true life for him was not that of a hand on one +of the dirty little fishing-boats smelling of brine, but +that of a sailor on a glittering ship odorous of polished +wood.</p> + +<p>This new life so full of hope, this future of riches +and glory, had opened to him. He did not wish to +see his sister yet; he had sworn not to return until +he had won the lace of a quartermaster.</p> + +<p>But the corvette could not lie there at the caprice +of a lad. After long consultations among the officers, +a topman climbed to that point on the mast +whence a cable runs to the very end of the bowsprit.</p> + +<p>Then, without hesitation, without even considering +the danger, he swung himself from the cable, and +hand under hand he descended it slowly and evenly, +so that Firmin should not suspect his coming.</p> + +<p>The sailors who had seen the maneuver made +as if to attack Firmin, in order to keep him on +guard. He had his eye on them, ready to take the +defensive.</p> + +<p>Not a sound. On the two boats all the men +were watching, their eyes opened, their lips closed, +in their excitement.</p> + +<p>The topman, keeping steadily on, was approaching +without being seen. Two fathoms more, and the +boy was taken.</p> + +<p>Through the deep silence, like the trail of a +rocket, came a long, strident cry:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>“Watch the top, my little man——”</p> + +<p>A cry which broke in on the stupor of officers and +men, and reverberated, with echo after echo, far +across the sea. “Watch the top, my little man.”</p> + +<p>Overtaxed by waiting, and excited by anxiety for +her boy, Elise had unconsciously shouted out a +sister’s warning.</p> + +<p>While the sailor stopped, astonished, Firmin +raised his head and saw him close at hand.</p> + +<p>He did not give even a start of surprise. Quickly +and resolutely, for he was determined to escape, +seeing himself cut off in front and above, he flattened +himself on the bowsprit and slipped down one +of the cables stretched beneath it. He hoped to +reach the figure-head of Fortune, and there to find +refuge from his pursuers on her breast, as on that of +a protecting divinity.</p> + +<p>Unfortunately, in his haste he made a false move, +lost his balance, and disappeared under the waves.</p> + +<p>A cry of terror re-echoed from the deck of the +<i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> like the cry of a mother in distress.</p> + +<p>But at that very moment a boat appeared from +the other side of the corvette, just in time to seize +Firmin, as he came to the surface, and row him to the +<i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. Two sailors caught him under the +arms, and made a rope fast around him.</p> + +<p>“Hoist him up!”</p> + +<p>Misery! As they were lifting him he managed to +slip from the rope, fell back into the water, and disappeared +from sight between the boat and the ship.</p> + +<p>“Seize him quick. He cannot swim.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_252a.jpg" width="450" height="696" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">“CALM YOURSELF, ELISE, WE SHOULD MAKE THE OTHERS LAUGH.”</p> + <p>Chap. 27.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>What was Elise saying—He not swim! The +scamp, he could swim like a porpoise! He passed +under the boat, reached the corvette, scaled her +ladder, and was on the deck he loved.</p> + +<p>“Captain, keep me. I want to become an officer.”</p> + +<p>The captain called Elise, and they began talking +again. The letter of the maritime prefect was only +mandatory on one point. It directed that the boy +should be taken to his sister, and this had been done. +If now Elise would consent to his enlisting, they +would keep her brother on board. He was cut out +for a good sailor. It was a pity to deprive the country +of his services.</p> + +<p>“Come, my daughter, decide.”</p> + +<p>Her eyes full of tears, her head drooping, her +voice nearly undistinguishable, Elise gave her consent.</p> + +<p>“Captain, it shall be as you wish, only let me +embrace him.”</p> + +<p>At last she pressed to her breast her lost child, +the child she loved. What a flood of caresses, and +what feverish kisses, she bestowed upon him.</p> + +<p>“Firmin, my sweet little man, you are always +beautiful. I tremble with happiness at seeing you.”</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself, Elise, you will make the others +laugh at us.”</p> + +<p>“Have no fear. One does not laugh at those who +love one another. Let me look at you.”</p> + +<p>“Look, instead, how everything shines on a big +ship.”</p> + +<p>“It is your eyes that shine. I have no fancy for +any other gleams.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>“And see how trim everything is, and how strong +the rigging.”</p> + +<p>“What do I care? It is only you that I wish to +admire—a long look, a long look, so that I may carry +you away in my soul and eyes at least.”</p> + +<p>“Calm yourself, Lise. We shall meet again later +on. I shall have won my rank. You will be +proud.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no! Such gains are made at too great a +cost. Since we were born, we have never been +separated.”</p> + +<p>“Elise, do go. You will make me lose my chance +of being an officer. The captain will take back his +word. There is an end to his patience.”</p> + +<p>And Firmin pushed his sister to the ship’s side, +where the ladder was fixed.</p> + +<p>“Do go!”</p> + +<p>Elise was overcome. She had had too many +blows. She could restrain no longer the beating of +her heart. Choking as she was, she forced herself +to say good-by.</p> + +<p>“I am going, captain. Be good to him.”</p> + +<p>She did not know how she got back to the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i>. +She seemed deaf even to the voice of +Firmin, who cried gayly:</p> + +<p>“Good-by, Elise! You will see me with stripes +on my sleeves.”</p> + +<p>She passed without speaking before Silvere, +Florimond, and Poidevin, and all the sailors grouped +together, and walked rigidly to the forecastle. But +she had barely reached there when her self-control +gave way, and she threw herself on her box. With +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>her head resting on the edge of the bunk, she wept +beside Barbet.</p> + +<p>“My old Barbet, he does not love us any more; +he has never loved us. He did not even speak of +you, old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>With a look in which shone his tender heart, Barbet +seemed to say:</p> + +<p>“Friend, he must suffer who loves too well. If +the affection of any one else can console you, be +sure of mine. It is yours for life and death. Friend, +there is still one who cherishes and adores you; your +big Silvere, who knows not how to tell his love, but +can prove it. Do you not see him silent and sad +behind you. He weeps at your tears, and his heart +beats in sympathy with yours. His arms are open, +tell your sorrows to him. Is not a friend’s heart a +refuge for all who are wounded by ingratitude?”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Since</span> morning the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> had been in +the Channel. It was her last night at sea, for the +next day at the evening tide she ought to be fast at +the quay at Dieppe, whither she was bound to sell +her fish.</p> + +<p>Elise had been ordered to the helm during the +second watch. Silvere had wanted to take her place. +Since she had been so unhappy he had become more +attentive, had spared her fatigue, had watched over +her, and had anticipated her wants. Alas! she had +no wants. She was wrapt in an indifference born of +grief. He did not leave her; he comforted her by +his affectionate glances and by that silent sympathy +of which delicate natures know the secret.</p> + +<p>What could he say? He had tried to speak of +Firmin, but it awakened all her grief and she had +burst into tears. He had ended by following her +about like a faithful dog, as Barbet would have followed +her if he had not been ill.</p> + +<p>This community of suffering had made Silvere +pale, so greatly had all these wakeful nights told +upon him. Big men cannot endure a long strain. +Elise now, not only refused fresh help from him, +but for the last few nights, by her entreaties, had +made him take his usual sleep. She herself was +lying down for the first time since Barbet was ill, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>and was dreaming of Firmin when the summons to +the deck brought her back from the happy vision.</p> + +<p>She was never late at her post. Without troubling +her head about her companion of the watch, who +was slower to wake, she hurried on deck to relieve +the man at the wheel.</p> + +<p>It was nearly the end of the full moon and the +night was clear, though at times thick, slow-moving +clouds hid the sky for long intervals. When Elise +heard the closing of the hatch she could not tell +which of the men came out. Whoever it was, he +would be her only companion for several hours, for +in light breezes two were enough to watch the +boat.</p> + +<p>Elise heard his steps in the bow as he went to +take his place as lookout.</p> + +<p>The weather was a little uncertain. At times one +of the heavy clouds would send down a fine warm +rain on the boat, and it was for that reason that they +had taken the precaution to close the hatch.</p> + +<p>There was a kind of languor in the air. Notwithstanding +her accustomed vigor Elise was depressed. +She was tired, body and soul, but under a presentiment +of coming trouble she threw it off and held +herself ready for action.</p> + +<p>In spite of the darkness of the night she had a +vague intuition that the figure, which she had hardly +seen, was that of Florimond. What was he going +to do, and what new fancy led him to take the place +of one of the men? Since he had come on the +<i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> he had not once offered to help in +handling her. He had always preserved his dignity +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>as captain before the crew, and here he was this +night taking the place of a common sailor.</p> + +<p>Was it really he? In order to know certainly, +and to recognize the man by the sound of his voice, +Elise gave the usual call:</p> + +<p>“Keep your eyes open there, in the bow.”</p> + +<p>There was no response.</p> + +<p>“Who is on the lookout?”</p> + +<p>No answer.</p> + +<p>“Is it not you, Cousin Florimond?”</p> + +<p>Then, suddenly, she nearly let go the tiller. The +heavy clouds had parted and the moon shone clear +through their rents. In the sudden light Elise saw +Florimond close to her. He was bent double and +was sneaking along in the shelter of the bulwarks.</p> + +<p>Then, in spite of herself, she was afraid. She remembered +the day when, face to face with him in +the capstan hatch, he had been so violent.</p> + +<p>“What are you going to do, Cousin Florimond? +I have not made you angry again, I suppose.”</p> + +<p>He stood erect; he nearly touched her hand. +At that moment the silvery rays shone on the sail +behind him, and his huge broad figure stood out +grandly against its white background.</p> + +<p>Around him on the deck everything was hidden +in the shadow. He looked almost more than human. +His chest curved outward between his arms squarely +set on his shoulders. His neck, with its strong +cords, supported his head proudly. His face was +strong, notwithstanding its pure oval. He was not +terrible, he was beautiful.</p> + +<p>“What do you want of me, Cousin Florimond? +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>If I can grant it, I could never have the heart to refuse.”</p> + +<p>“I want your promise to marry me, Lise. You +are the cleverest of the village girls, and I am the +strongest of the men. We would make a fine +couple, we two.”</p> + +<p>“Do you think so, cousin? I am not worth your +notice.”</p> + +<p>“You saved me from the sea. You are the most +daring of any of the girls.”</p> + +<p>“I am only a poor lass, and not made for riches, +like you.”</p> + +<p>“You are made for me and I want you. I should +never find any one who would do me more credit.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you want me? You do not like me at +all.”</p> + +<p>“I owe you my life. I want to pay my debt.”</p> + +<p>“We will talk later on. This is not the time for +it. Leave me to mind the helm.”</p> + +<p>“Listen, Elise, I want you. I believe that any +man might be proud to marry you.”</p> + +<p>In Florimond’s eyes Elise caught the jealous +gleams which she feared. From the start, she had +tried to refuse him without speaking of her engagement. +She knew intuitively that she had but to +mention Silvere’s name to rouse the jealousy of the +proud captain who had so suddenly become his +rival.</p> + +<p>She made another attempt to avoid a clash.</p> + +<p>“Return to your post, Cousin Florimond. If +there should be a collision we should be to blame.”</p> + +<p>“The other boats can look out for us.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>“We will watch all the same. It is our duty.”</p> + +<p>“You wish to put me off, Lise. Do you not know +me yet? If it is your Silvere who is in the way of +your marrying me, he can look out for squalls.”</p> + +<p>“Why do you threaten him? Has he ever done +you any harm?”</p> + +<p>“He is a great soft, half-coward.”</p> + +<p>“On the contrary, he is braver and more generous +than any one.”</p> + +<p>She stopped, confused at this outburst, in which +her heart had spoken in spite of her lips.</p> + +<p>She was not afraid for herself, for she did not believe +her sturdy cousin would do a mean act. She +had known him when he was a child, the most beautiful +child in the village, and had seen him grow up +to be the handsomest man. She knew that he was +conceited, violent, and inconsiderate of others, but +she thought these were the traits of strong characters. +She endowed him with manly virtues, she +thought him brave and incapable of common +crimes.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, she was uneasy on Silvere’s account, +for he was not the kind of man to tolerate a rival, +and foreseeing a quarrel between them she resolved +to turn his anger on herself.</p> + +<p>“Take your post, Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>“No! Give up Silvere. He is too lazy for +you.”</p> + +<p>And Cousin Florimond squared himself firmly on +his legs as if to make the contrast between them +more forcible.</p> + +<p>“Go! Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span>“Give him up, <i>tonnerre</i>!”</p> + +<p>“Never! I have given him my word.”</p> + +<p>“So much the worse. It will cost you dear.”</p> + +<p>“It will not cost me enough to make me break +it.”</p> + +<p>“It will cost you your lover, Lise. Can he hold +his own against me?”</p> + +<p>“You have no right to quarrel with me about +him. When you despised me, he alone stood by +me. I should be unnatural if I were to forget his +kindness. Take your post again, Cousin Florimond. +Silvere has my word, and he will have it as +long as I live.”</p> + +<p>“Enough. <i>Tonnerre!</i> You are playing a game +to make me fall in love with you.”</p> + +<p>“He protected me against all the villagers. He +has a good heart and kindly ways. Do not speak to +me of marriage. He has given me his love. I have +given him mine.”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue. Are you trying to make me +kill him?”</p> + +<p>“He is not afraid of you in the least, Cousin Florimond. +He has faced stronger men than you, and, +since you have no gratitude for what he has done +for you, I will talk to you as you deserve. You are +a better-looking man, but your face is disfigured by +passion. You ask my love, but you get only my +contempt. Do not speak to me! Do not speak to +me!”</p> + +<p>Florimond stepped toward her threateningly.</p> + +<p>“You are too free with your tongue to-night, +Elise. You are trying to find out what one gets +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span>who braves me. For the last time I say it, give +up Silvere.”</p> + +<p>“No, I love him.”</p> + +<p>“Look out, then! <i>Tonnerre!</i> You’ve brought +it on yourself, girl.”</p> + +<p>And Florimond threw himself heavily on Elise, +crushing her with his sinewy fingers.</p> + +<p>“Are you trying to kill me, because I would not +tell a lie?”</p> + +<p>“Give him up!”</p> + +<p>“Never, Cousin Florimond.”</p> + +<p>“Hold your tongue! I do not know myself! +You shall give him up! <i>Tonnerre!</i> Give him up, +I say!”</p> + +<p>Not being able to force Elise to her knees, he +took a step backward to make a fresh attack.</p> + +<p>“No! Never—never—never!”</p> + +<p>During the instant that she was free she had +picked up something—anything to defend herself +with, and handled it dexterously.</p> + +<p>“Help, Silvere! Help, Poidevin! Help, all!”</p> + +<p>In an instant Florimond was on his back, pinned +to the ground by two hands and two knees, which +held him in spite of himself. He fought desperately, +he breathed hard, and the shock, as his +back was forced down again and again to the deck, +fairly made it tremble. He sputtered with rage. +All the sailors came running, one after the other, +and big Poidevin with them, puffing like a drunkard +waked too soon.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_262a.jpg" width="450" height="698" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE HAD PICKED UP SOMETHING—ANYTHING—TO DEFEND HERSELF.</p> + <p>Chap. 28.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Pale, and overcome with surprise and fright, the +panic-stricken crowd stood there with wide-open +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>eyes, looking about to see if it was some strange +nightmare which had brought them, only half +awake, on deck.</p> + +<p>“Do not let him go, Silvere. He will do some +harm.”</p> + +<p>The sailors stood about, not daring to come near, +and fearing even to touch this man, who had so +strangely broken in on their sleep.</p> + +<p>Barbet had wakened them. Stretched at length, +without strength, unable to lift himself, but feverishly +anxious, and hearing perhaps through the closed +hatch Elise’s troubled voice, he had whined, but the +sleeping ears were deaf. Then, with a last effort, +he had howled loud enough to wake at once all +these snorers out of their heavy sleep.</p> + +<p>And they had all rushed out, Silvere first, as he +thought of his betrothed. It was he who had +thrown Florimond down and was now holding him +fast.</p> + +<p>He had a strong grip, this big fellow. His +timidity and his good nature made him seem uncertain +and weak. He was so bashful with women +that he hardly dared to look into their eyes, and +when he approached Elise he made himself gentle, +as if to touch a child. But he was terrible at a +time like this, when he was angry at men like himself. +Under his firm hold it went hard with +Florimond.</p> + +<p>“Tie him up,” said Poidevin suddenly. “We cannot +arrange a guard of men to watch him all the +time.”</p> + +<p>On shipboard they have a liking for summary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>measures. It is the easiest way to secure the safety +of the boat against mutineers. The sailors urged +on Silvere, and among them the survivors of the +<i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, old Quarrelsome and the Stutterer, +were the most furious.</p> + +<p>“He is strangling already. Finish him, once for +all, Silvere.”</p> + +<p>Then Elise forced her way through the men to +where Florimond lay, and set him free.</p> + +<p>“I do not want any one to be hurt on my account. +Take your place again, cousin. I will go back to +the helm, and Silvere will protect me.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> +</div> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Drink</span>, I beg you, my old Barbet. Listen to +your Elise. Drink a little—very slowly—but at +least drink. You are all cold. It will warm you, +old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>She offered him some drops of brandy in the +palm of her hand. He paid no attention to it. +His lips were closed and shrivelled, a very bad sign. +On her return from the watch Elise had found him +lying stiff and without breath, as if his soul had +passed in his last cry of distress.</p> + +<p>“You are just as you were at first, but you will +get better now, as you did then. If you will drink +you will get well, my old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>He lay motionless, and Elise watched him and +wept.</p> + +<p>Poidevin was snoring: all the men were asleep +again. Florimond was seated on a box in the darkest +corner of the room, half asleep, but the furrows +in his forehead, his compressed lips, and the twitchings +of his arms betrayed the feverish desire for +vengeance which filled his whole being. Silvere +alone watched by Elise’s side.</p> + +<p>He seized Barbet’s jaws with his two hands and +tried with all his might to unlock them. The lips +opened a little and through them Elise succeeded +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>in slipping some drops of cordial, but they did not +produce a single tremor.</p> + +<p>“It is not true. It is not true,” she cried, and +from that moment she did not leave Barbet until +they were in port.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was to Dieppe that the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> had +come to leave her fish. While the men hurried to +the nearest tavern, Elise made her way to the town +with Barbet in her arms.</p> + +<p>She had sent Silvere to the sanitary bureau to +get the addresses of doctors, and the agent, thinking +that it was some man who was ill, had given +him those of the principal physicians.</p> + +<p>On seeing the curious patient they brought, one +laughed, another was angry, and all sent Elise +mournfully away without advice. From street to +street she carried the dog, mounting the steps in +vain, for everywhere she received the same refusal.</p> + +<p>Finally, the servant of one of these doctors, an +old woman who had more feeling than the younger +ones, told Elise of a man thoroughly skilled in the +care of beasts, who lived between the town and the +open fields, in a place sheltered from the sea winds, +where there was fresh air and grass.</p> + +<p>“It will be fine for you here, my Barbet,” said +Elise as she reached the door, “but can I have the +heart to leave you?”</p> + +<p>Barbet did not answer. His head swung helplessly +over Elise’s arm, his glassy eyes could not +speak. The opinion was not favorable. The veterinary +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>made his diagnosis, screwing up his mouth +and nodding his head.</p> + +<p>“He is dead. Leave him. I will bury him to-morrow.”</p> + +<p>“Are you crazy, sir? Bury Barbet! As if one +could find another friend like him! I would give my +life for him, just as he would give his for me.”</p> + +<p>“It would be of no use. If he is not dead he is +the same as dead. He will be underground before +two days.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, no, sir! You will find out how to make him +well, for you are a doctor. I will pay all expenses. +The herring has furnished——”</p> + +<p>She put Barbet quickly into Silvere’s arms, and, +drawing from under her skirt a canvas bag, held it +up for the veterinary to see.</p> + +<p>“The sale of the fish will fill it. There will be +enough to pay you for curing Barbet.”</p> + +<p>Silvere interrupted, to promise still more.</p> + +<p>“You are a couple of innocents,” said the veterinary +rudely. “Leave the dog with me.”</p> + +<p>“You will take me to board, too, sir. I am easy +to please.”</p> + +<p>It was hard work to convince Elise that a hospital +for animals was not a tavern; the dog only was +taken. Fortunately there was an inn not far away, +and Elise engaged a bed. She was going to live +there during the time it took to sell and deliver the +herrings.</p> + +<p>She came hourly to the hospital door, rang the +bell boldly, troubling the concierge and the servants, +and even the master, to get news of Barbet. They +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span>refused her entrance under the plea of interfering +with his recovery, but she was so importunate that +the surgeon ended by being interested in a dog +which was the object of so firm a friendship. And +so Barbet was saved. He was on the high way to +recovery when the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> sailed. After +a more careful and patient examination than he +usually gave his patients, the veterinary had discovered +the state of the injury, applied the right remedy +and a solid dressing; then he had turned the +animal over to Elise, dismissing her with a crabbed +good nature when she was persistent in trying to +pay for his care. She was carried away with delight.</p> + +<p>“I was sure I should rescue you from death, my +old Barbet. When we fight for our friends, we are +strong against evil.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> was sailing briskly toward +her port. Barbet preferred the deck. He was in the +bow, stretched on a pile of nets and mops, and it was +thence that, six hours after leaving Dieppe, he saw +again the well-known bay, with its gray outlines +softened away into fog. Elise was near him. She +lifted his head gently, and from afar he made out +the white houses of the town behind the red sands +of the dunes. As he saw these dear sights, his eye, +so long bright with fever, recovered its limpid +serenity.</p> + +<p>The sun was just setting when the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> +appeared in the harbor. She had been signalled +a half hour before, on entering the channel, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>and all those whose happiness was at risk with her, +were waiting on the pier, impatient for her landing. +Elise and Silvere saw Mother Pilote and good +Mother Loirat. They threw toward them a long, +joyful cry—a cry of home-coming, the lightest and +most joyous of those which escape the human +breast.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>They were to have a week on shore, and Elise +passed it in her cabin, caring for Barbet. She had +signed for the whole campaign, and could not think +of breaking her engagement. Barbet was too weak +yet to take up life on shipboard again, and their +separation was close at hand, for the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> +was to sail in two days.</p> + +<p>Elise was all the while in tears. She did not dare +to leave the dog to Mother Pilote, who could not +be depended on to watch a sick person. She wished +to leave him with Chrétien.</p> + +<p>Chrétien had not gone to sea again. He had +yielded to the wishes of Mother Loirat, who had +been so greatly aged by her recent shock that she +preferred poverty to being left alone. He fished +from the beach, according to the season. It was a +wretched occupation, but a safe one at least.</p> + +<p>Since Elise had returned home he often made his +way to her cabin. He would reach the house and +watch her through the windows a long time before +he knocked. As soon as he was within he would +seat himself and remain an hour or two without saying +anything, simply following her with his childlike +look.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>He had been there since noon, sitting in a corner +of the cabin, and more restless and more silent than +ever before. His eyes, naturally so quiet, were +lighted at intervals by strange gleams. He fixed +them longingly on the bridal bouquet, which, on the +sideboard under a glass globe, shone brilliantly with +its leaves of gold paper. Then he turned them to +Elise as if in some secret trouble.</p> + +<p>“What is it, Chrétien? tell me. Perhaps I may +be able to comfort you.”</p> + +<p>She had no reply. She saw him look more earnestly +than before at the bouquet, and then glance at +her with a sort of sweet supplication. He seemed +so sad, and to desire it so much, that she was not +able to resist the pleasure of granting his silent +prayer.</p> + +<p>She ran to the sideboard, lifted the globe, took +the bouquet, and, blowing the dust off the leaves, +broke off the brightest and gave it to the young man.</p> + +<p>“They say that it brings luck to lovers. Have +you then a promise, Chrétien?”</p> + +<p>“I shall never marry.”</p> + +<p>“What are you saying? You are especially made +for home life.”</p> + +<p>“No. I cannot hope to be happy, for you are to +marry another. I shall at least have the pleasure of +dying for you.”</p> + +<p>Elise was sitting by Barbet, and as she talked she +was running her fingers through his long hair, all +tangled like that of a sick person. At Chrétien’s +word, she rose in surprise, and withdrew her hand so +suddenly that she pulled out a tuft. Barbet did not +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span>cry out, but he was not able to repress a little +whimper of pain.</p> + +<p>“Is it possible that I hurt you, my old Barbet? +You made me do it, Chrétien, with your gloomy +talk.”</p> + +<p>And leaning toward the dog, she petted him consolingly.</p> + +<p>Their confidential talk once broken, Chrétien had +not another word to say. He stayed a long time, +abstracted and quiet, then, toward night, he went +out, throwing at Elise a long look of farewell.</p> + +<p>“Chrétien, where are you going? Tell me.”</p> + +<p>He was already some distance away. She followed +him with her eyes for some seconds. He +went toward the dunes by the road that led to the +graveyard. Elise returned to Barbet and kissed his +forehead.</p> + +<p>“Do not be restless, Barbet. Chrétien had a +strange look about him. I want to find out what he +is going over there for.”</p> + +<p>She went out hastily and ran, for he was out of +sight. She did not catch sight of him again until +after she had climbed the top of the dune. He was +not alone. As nearly as she could distinguish in the +twilight, Florimond and big Poidevin were with him.</p> + +<p>Nothing is so depressing as the coming of night. +Oppressed with forebodings, Elise quickened her +pace. What could bring them there, those three, +so late, on this gloomy road? Could what she feared +be true?</p> + +<p>It was altogether improbable, she said; but the +further she went the stronger grew her fears.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>She recalled the strange actions of Cousin Florimond +during the last few days. He was not a man +to acknowledge defeat, and since his return he had +renewed his attentions to her and his threats. He +took advantage of the absence of Silvere, who had +gone some distance into the country to announce +his approaching wedding to some old relatives, and +was delayed by business. But contrary to Florimond’s +expectations he had met a new champion of +Elise’s rights, for Chrétien had been only too happy +to take up the duty of protecting her, if only for a +week.</p> + +<p>Had the two men quarrelled? At the very +thought Elise trembled with fear. She knew how +all these sailors’ duels ended—duels with knives and +without mercy.</p> + +<p>She thought she should faint when she saw the +three figures disappear suddenly in the Crow’s Hole. +They usually fought there in the ditch, the better to +keep them face to face and prevent either from +escaping. Elise tried to run, but her legs tottered +under her. She tried to cry out, to frighten them +by this approach of a stranger, but her voice died +away in her throat.</p> + +<p>She heard the voice of Poidevin directing the +fight.</p> + +<p>“To your work, lads. You know the custom. In +a case of gallantry you strike to kill.”</p> + +<p>There were some frightful instants of silence; +overhead the sea-gulls wheeled—sea-gulls drawn by +the hope of blood; then came Poidevin’s voice judging +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>the blows. Then there was a hoarse clamor and +two voices cried together:</p> + +<p>“His account is settled. Yes. You have ripped +him up like a sack.”</p> + +<p>“Who! Chrétien surely! Poor Mother Loirat!” +And seized by a tremor of unconquerable anguish +Elise fell prostrate on the sand. She had fainted.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>“Mam’selle Elise. It is I. Do you not know me! +The bouquet has brought me luck.”</p> + +<p>Elise came to herself in the arms of Chrétien, who +carried her to her cabin.</p> + +<p>“Fear no longer, Mam’selle Elise. Florimond +will never trouble you again. He had sworn to kill +Silvere.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> + +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak">CHAPTER XXX.</h2> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> did not sail the next day. +A good fellow, after all, Poidevin had a tender +heart. Immediately after the fight, of which he had +been a witness, he had gone to the tavern to drown +his emotion, and he had drowned it so effectively +that his reasoning faculties had gone with it.</p> + +<p>Wandering through the town and tired of knocking +at all the doors whose bolts would not move for +his key, he had ended by occupying a very soft bed +which he found in a damp ditch by the roadside. +When the next morning they lifted him up, muddy +and with water-cress in his beard and hair, he was +helpless. His fat alone had saved him from a worse +fate. Howling with rheumatism, he kept his bed +for a month, while the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> waited impatiently +in the harbor.</p> + +<p>Silvere wished to take advantage of this respite +and be married. On his recent trip he had recovered +some important sums lent by his father to +his country relatives. He was in easy circumstances +as far as money was concerned. What was there to +wait for.</p> + +<p>They must wait for Barbet to get well. At least +so Elise thought. She would not have a happy +wedding if her old friend did not assist.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>“Hurry and get well, my poor Barbet. I want +you for a witness.”</p> + +<p>And a witness he was. Poidevin’s illness continued +beyond the doctor’s expectations; the days +grew into weeks. The end of October was at hand +and the <i>Jeune-Adolphine</i> could not hope to go +fishing before the new year. Already the sailors +were dismantling her. They were not now driven +by the fear of having to sail, and Elise herself began +to wish for the long-announced marriage.</p> + +<p>“Hurry to get well, Barbet. You will not put +us off until winter, will you?”</p> + +<p>For a fortnight Barbet had moved about the +room, dragging his hind legs behind him. His +strength came back very slowly.</p> + +<p>“You will not be able to dance at the wedding, +you poor old crippled Barbet.”</p> + +<p>He did not object to any remedies, salt baths, +rubbings, tonics, but, much as he wished it, he +could not get well. At last, near All Saint’s Day, +after hours of attempts which cost him many a +twinge, he managed to stand on his four feet and +walk. He tried it twenty times before Elise.</p> + +<p>“You walk well now, my old Barbet.”</p> + +<p>And the wedding was fixed for the Saturday +after Saint Martin’s Day. On that day the sky was +clear at the sun rising, with that blue of autumn +which pales as it nears the horizon. The south +wind blew softly, while the gray crows, the larks, +the starlings, the green finches, and all the birds of +passage filled the air with joyous cries.</p> + +<p>At daybreak Elise went with Silvere to the graveyard +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span>to invoke from her parents the first of the +benedictions she was to receive that day. She +slowly climbed the dune road, supported by him +whom she was so soon to accept before men and +for eternity as her only master, her protector, and +her husband.</p> + +<p>Half-way up she stopped. Below her the gulf +hid beneath its scintillations the deep abyss, but as +she saw it from afar, so laughing and so treacherous, +Elise had not the tremors of other days. One is +not afraid of what one knows.</p> + +<p>“Silvere,” she said simply, “one clings closer to +happiness when one has fought for it.”</p> + +<p>Then she threw a last glance beyond the gulf toward +England, and her breast swelled with emotion +at the remembrance. Her thoughts flew to Firmin, +the lad of her choice, whom she had loved so much. +Notwithstanding all, she reproached herself for leaving +him. She said to herself that soon other cares +would take all her time, and some day, perhaps, she +would have children of her own who would awake +in her new inquietude and new duties.</p> + +<p>Silvere watched her, lost in this far-off revery. +She lifted her eyes to his unconsciously, and seeing +that he divined her thoughts tried to hide them in a +smile. But he quickly reassured her.</p> + +<p>“You will always love your Firmin, will you not? +Since he is your brother he shall be mine, Lise. In a +household all friendships should be shared.”</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>After the blessings of the relations, comes that of +the mayor. The procession left the cottage, Silvere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>at its head, very handsome in his new clothes, with +his brown hat and his blue shirt with a heart embroidered +on it. Radiantly happy, Mother Pilote, +hanging on the arm of her great son, trotted gayly +along in her holiday costume of red skirt and green +shawl.</p> + +<p>Elise was married in white. That is the rule for +young girls. She marched second in the procession, +and took no one’s arm in order that she might have +Barbet beside her.</p> + +<p>He advanced gravely, as was due to the occasion. +The night before, on seeing them bring her white +dress and crown of orange blossoms, he had foreseen +this holiday, and had given Elise no peace until she +had taken out from the chest his tarnished lace and +chevrons. He had insisted on her rubbing and polishing +them for more than an hour, and attired to +his taste he yielded place to no one.</p> + +<p>Then came Silvere’s relatives and Chrétien and +Mother Loirat; finally M. Emile, who half-disappeared +under a huge bouquet of chrysanthemums all +tied up in white ribbons. It was the gift of the commissaire +of Saint-Valery, and M. Emile thought it +so beautiful that he wanted to carry it all day. It +took both his arms to hold it, and he had to lean his +head back so far that twenty times he nearly lost his +high hat, which had been all newly polished.</p> + +<p>The mayor received the company with his best +smile. He pretended to accept Barbet as witness, and +the dog acted his part and responded to each inquiry +the same as the others. When asked, according +to the usual formula, “Do you agree to take Silvere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>Pollene here present for your husband?” Elise answered +softly in her sweet voice. Barbet, doubtless +judging the “Yes” not said with sufficient firmness +and vigor, treated it by his loudest bark.</p> + +<p>He was not provoked, when, as they left the +<i>mairie</i>, Elise took Silvere’s arm. He kept through +the whole walk his own company, instead of going +with Mother Pilote, whom they tried to make him +take as companion.</p> + +<p>Mother Pilote herself was so full of smiles, so foolishly +happy, that she amused herself by trying to reconcile +Barbet to his new companion.</p> + +<p>“You will not make anything by changing, Barbet. +What do you expect? From youth to age; +it is always so in life.”</p> + +<p>It was worse still for Barbet at the church. He +entered quietly, like a person of importance. The +beadle tried to drive him out; he showed his teeth. +Then Elise, without thinking of her white dress, +took him boldly up and carried him out to the Place. +She made up, to console him, such wheedling excuses +and faithful promises, that he was content.</p> + +<p>They met again happily after the ceremony. All +the town was assembled along the route and, under +showers of flowers which the girls flung, in the midst +of the firing of guns and letting off of powder with +which the young men of the village deafened them, +between the congratulations of the old people and the +cries of wondering children, the company walked to +Silvere’s house for the mid-day meal. Then, faithful +to custom, after it they set out again for the +fields.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>Animals were grazing in the meadows fresh from +the autumn rains. Elise recognized those through +which she had run on that mournful night. They +were still green with the aftermath, while beyond +them, in place of ripening wheat and blossoming +flowers, the new-ploughed ground awaited the seed +that was to bring a fresh crop.</p> + +<p>The procession, led by two violins and a fife, who +had asked the honor of taking part, kept its ranks a +long time.</p> + +<p>Silvere overtopped by a head all his relatives and +friends, and thus overlooking all, he did not lack +dignity. Besides, since he was assured of Elise, he +had gained in ease. His long arms and big hands, +which were so embarrassing to him before, assumed +a fresh and nearly natural grace.</p> + +<p>He held Elise by the hand after the fashion of +village lovers, and did not speak. These simple +souls knew how to love and be silent. He marched +along, looking about with the astonished gaze of the +sailor, to whom all rural things are strange. But in +the pressure of Elise’s hand he felt a delicious +tremor which stirred his heart like a caress.</p> + +<p>They reached the first village; some cottages +half-hidden away among trees. They were expected. +On the steps of the tavern the young girls +in their Sunday dresses offered them cake and beer +in exchange for small silver. It is a tradition of the +district. Elise was expected to drink with Silvere. +She just wet her lips and handed the glass to her +husband, who emptied it at a draught, as if he were +drinking the aroma of her he loved. Then they ate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span>together of the cake, exchanging a glance of infinite +sweetness, a glance in which could be read the +thoughts of their hearts. Henceforth to them all was +to be in common, sorrow, joy, strength and weakness, +good and evil, all the life of the body and the +life of the soul.</p> + +<p>It was the same at tavern after tavern. According +to the custom they could not skip one. They +stopped, drank, paid, and took up their march, but +the procession began to lose its first regularity. +The young people grew animated and kept step +with the violins as they entered the villages. Then +Silvere and Elise led off the marriage march. But +when, overcome with delight at his happiness, he +held her close or, leaning toward her, brushed the +hair on her forehead, she gently and delicately disengaged +herself and ran to the mothers, whose age +made them fall far behind. She embraced them +and encouraged them, taking the occasion to smile +at M. Emile and Barbet.</p> + +<p>These two shared the end of the procession with +the old people, the little clerk perspiring under his +bouquet, the dog a little stiff in his legs.</p> + +<p>Chrétien alone of all did not seem happy. His +steel-gray eye, as it turned toward Elise, seemed +full of a plaintive sorrow. One cannot cure themselves +of a heart wound in a day.</p> + +<p>The supper, the real wedding feast, had been ordered +at the sailor’s tavern. Elise had not been +willing that Mother Pilote should have the fatigue +of it. At the great table, where the mugs of beer +and the white dishes sparkled under the lamps, each +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span>one was seated according to his merit and rank. +The happy pair were midway, opposite the mayor, +then the witnesses and the relatives. The young people +were at each end. There was no fish served; they +had enough of that every day. When they were +tired of the meat courses, bottles of old cider were +emptied, frothing, into the glasses. It was the +happy moment when the satisfied stomach sets the +tongue free. Barbet himself, on his seat beside +Elise, notwithstanding the majesty of his dress, +shared the general talk.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the door opened, allowing the entrance +of a noisy crowd, who elbowed one another in their +haste, as if pushed from behind. In the front were +Old Quarrelsome and the Stutterer, and the other +sailor of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>—the three whom Elise +had saved. They bore their present, a little sloop, +which they had made together. The first had +carved the hull, the second had put in the masts and +the rigging, the third had added the sails and painted +it in bright colors. The name, <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, was on +its stern, with the date, as a souvenir.</p> + +<p>A souvenir in which there was blended some sadness. +The last survivor of the <i>Bon-Pêcheur</i>, Florimond, +was not there. But he was alive. The blow +of the knife which he had received would have killed +twenty ordinary men. Fighting hard for life, he had +recovered, but he was disfigured by a gash from his +forehead to his chest. No longer able to be the +handsomest captain on that coast, he had left it, and +become a ship-owner at Calais.</p> + +<p>The three advanced to offer their present. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span>Stutterer wished to speak, Old Quarrelsome tried to +prevent him, and it was the third man, who, finding +nothing to say, gave the boat to the bride, kissing +her hands as he did so.</p> + +<p>Then four big fellows entered. They had been +selected for their strength; a sailor, a coast guard, a +fisherman, and one of the villagers, representing the +different occupations of the town. Elbowing one +another, they arranged themselves behind Elise’s +chair.</p> + +<p>The mayor arose. He was not an orator, but a +dealer in spirits, a good fellow with red cheeks and +close-cut gray hair. He spoke simply. The whole +town wished to make a festival for Elise, in order to +make up to her in one day for the injustice she had +suffered so many weeks. He made a sign. The +four men had already seized the bride’s chair.</p> + +<p>“Wait. I have not executed my commission.”</p> + +<p>And making his way under the table, the little +hunchback laid his bouquet on Elise’s knees.</p> + +<p>“Untie it, madame. I am too happy.”</p> + +<p>When the ribbons were unfastened, the bouquet +fell apart into two clusters, in the center of each of +which was pinned an envelope. The first she +opened was an appointment for Silvere as assistant +pilot.</p> + +<p>The shouts and stampings which greeted this +news were repeated like a happy echo on the stairs, +then in the room below and on the Place.</p> + +<p>Elise trembled as she opened the other envelope. +She found in it a letter, and when she had run +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span>through it her eyes shone, her cheeks reddened, +and, seeing before her the happy face of the little +hunchback, she seized him with both hands and embraced +him with all her heart.</p> + +<p>It was a letter from Firmin. It announced that +he had passed the first of the steps that were to lead +him to fortune. His good work and his progress at +the school on board had distinguished him. He was +a midshipman.</p> + +<p>Then the mayor gave the signal again. The +four big fellows carried Elise out. Her husband +and the guests followed.</p> + +<p>The Place, so gloomy when the wedding party +had passed through it before the feast, had been +transformed. It was in festal array. In the centre +a mast, wreathed with flowers and surrounded with +three tiers of lanterns, marked the place for the +ball; the place where, many months before, the assembled +villagers had stoned her in whose honor +they were soon to dance.</p> + +<p>Before opening the quadrille they drank to her +health. The mayor, who was generous as well as +rich, had furnished the liquor without charge. +Each one had brought his glass and filled it at one +of the casks, broached at the four corners of the +Place. It was arranged that they should fall in line +and pass before the bride and groom to clink +glasses and drink to their health, but country people +do not know how to do things. They did not +fall in line. They pressed and crowded one another +so that the glasses were half-emptied on the dresses +and jackets. They had to go back and fill and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span>empty them again, but this time they emptied +them standing by the cask.</p> + +<p>And when they had drunk they danced. The +night was cold, but they could warm themselves at +the casks.</p> + +<p>Long before midnight the old people went to bed. +Elise had left the ball for more than an hour then, +to accompany Mother Pilote, the poor old woman +whose only child she was taking.</p> + +<p>“Do not weep, Mother Pilote. You have not +lost a son: you have gained a daughter.”</p> + +<p>She had been happy all day, but on finding herself +alone in her house, the old woman was suddenly +seized with sadness.</p> + +<p>“Do not weep, Mother Pilote, you have two +children to love you now, instead of one.”</p> + +<p>These outbursts of filial affection only made the +separation more painful, and when Elise returned to +the dancers she was still a little sober and quiet.</p> + +<p>Toward morning the young people escorted the +newly married pair home. On the steps of the cottage +Elise embraced all the girls, her companions. +After the farewells, Silvere wished her to enter first +through the wide-open door. She turned to see if +Barbet had followed, for in the noise of the dance +they had forgotten him. But Barbet was not there, +and all who were waiting until the door closed on +them set out to hunt for him. Elise and Silvere +found him on the step of the house in which Chrétien +lived.</p> + +<p>“What are you doing there, old Barbet? Are you +hurt at me for having forgotten you?”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" style="width: 450px;"> + <img src="images/i_284a.jpg" width="450" height="694" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p class="caption">SHE WISHED TO CARRY HIM AWAY.</p> + <p>Chap. 30.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_285">[285]</span>He tried to answer with a look. Elise could not +understand at all. She wished to carry him away, +and made him many excuses, prayers, and caresses. +But he was firm against all.</p> + +<p>That which he wanted to say she understood +later. Since henceforth she had another one devoted +to her service, since she was to be loved and protected +all her life, Barbet could no longer serve her. +He would take up his old life as a dog of the coast +guard and the village. He would signal the incoming +boats and take the children to school.</p> + +<p>“Lise, let us leave him. Without doubt he is +jealous because you are married.”</p> + +<p>She raised her beautiful, thoughtful eyes to Silvere +and saw him all smiling with love. Then, hurt +by this unspeakable trouble, yielding half-consciously +to this new call of her spirit and carried +away by the intoxication of this new happiness, she +forgot her companion of evil days, her always firm +friend, and for the first time in her life was unjust to +Barbet. She thought him untrue and jealous.</p> + +<p>But four years later, when she was the mother of +two boys and the day came for the elder, her little +Baptiste, to go to school, Barbet became his protector. +Vigilant and faithful, the dog gave the son +the same tender care which formerly he had given +the mother. Then only did Elise understand Barbet. +Devoted to the cause of the weak and afflicted, +he would have failed of his destiny if he had stayed +with her. The new master he had chosen, a master +gentle and unhappy, Chrétien, sustained by his +friendship, found once more that life was sweet. He +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_286">[286]</span>had become a coast guard, and had taken the place +in the eyes of the village of Barbet’s first master, +the dead captain.</p> + +<p>But Barbet had not waited for this far-distant +time to take up his old work, and each night when +he brought home her little Baptiste, well kept and +watched, Elise kissed on his nose this good friend.</p> + +<p>“I am ashamed to have misunderstood you, Barbet. +Are you not always right?”</p> + + +<p class="center">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + +<p>Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> +</div></div> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78652 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78652-h/images/cover.jpg 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