"Fifty," said Belle Tête, without moving from the spot.
All eyes were turned to him; up to this moment Belle Tête had professed a profound hatred for marriage.
"Sixty," shouted an adventurer who did not desire to buy the girl, but wished to annoy his comrade.
"Seventy," said another with the same charitable intention.
"One hundred," Belle Tête shouted angrily.
"One hundred crowns, gentlemen, one hundred for Louise for three years," the stoical agent said.
"One hundred and fifty."
"Two hundred."
"Two hundred and fifty."
"Three hundred," several adventurers shouted, almost simultaneously, as they drew nearer to the platform.
Belle Tête was pale with rage, for he feared lest she might escape him.
The adventurer had persuaded himself, rightly or wrongly, that he wanted a wife to manage his household; now he had seen Louise, Louise pleased him, she was for sale, and he resolved to buy her.
"Four hundred crowns!" he said with an air of defiance.
"Four hundred crowns," the company's agent repeated in his monotonous voice.
There was a silence.
Four hundred crowns is a large sum; Belle Tête triumphed.
"Five hundred!" a sharp shrill voice suddenly shouted.
The contest was beginning again; the adversaries had only stopped to regain their strength.
The company's agent rubbed his hands with a jubilant air, while repeating,—
"Six hundred, seven, eight, nine hundred crowns!"
A species of frenzy had seized on the spectators, and all bid furiously; the girl was still weeping.
Belle Tête was in a state of fury which approached to madness; clutching his fusil frenziedly in his clinched hand, he felt a wild temptation to send a bullet into the most determined of his competitors. Only the presence of M. de Fontenay restrained him.
"A thousand," he shouted in a hoarse voice.
"One thousand two hundred!" the most obstinate competitor immediately yelled.
Belle Tête stamped savagely, threw his fusil on his shoulder, drew his cap on to his head with a blow of his fist, and then with a step as slow and solemn as that of a statue would be, if a statue could walk, he went to place himself by the side of his unendurable rival, and letting the butt of his fusil fall heavily on the ground, scarce an inch from the man's foot, he looked him in the face for a moment with a defiant air, and shouted in a voice choked by emotion,—
"Fifteen hundred!"
The adventurer regarded him in his turn fiercely, fell back a step, and, after renewing the powder in the pan of his fusil, said, in a calm voice—
"Two thousand!"
Before these two obstinate adversaries the other bidders had prudently withdrawn; the competition was turning into a quarrel, and threatened to become sanguinary.
A deadly silence brooded over the shed; the over-excited passions of these two men had spoiled all the pleasures of the spectators, and silenced all their jokes.
The Governor followed with interest the different incidents of this struggle, ready to interfere at any moment.
The adventurers had gradually fallen back, and left a large free space between the two men.
Belle Tête recoiled a few paces in his turn, suddenly examined the priming of his fusil, and then, pointing the latter at his adversary, shouted—
"Three thousand!"
The other raised his fusil at the same moment to his shoulder.
"Three thousand five hundred crowns!" he shouted, as he pulled the trigger—the fusil was discharged.
But the Governor, with a movement rapid as thought, threw up the barrel with the end of his cane, and the ball lodged in the roof.
Belle Tête remained motionless, though, on hearing the shot, he lowered his fusil.
"Sir," the Governor exclaimed, indignantly, addressing the adventurer who had fired, "You have acted in a dishonourable way, and almost committed a murder."
"Governor," the adventurer coolly replied, "when I fired he had his gun pointed at me, and hence it is a duel."
The Governor hesitated, for the answer was specious.
"No matter, sir," he continued, a moment later, "the laws of duelling were not respected; to punish you I put you out of the bidding. Sir," he said, addressing the company's agent, "I order that the woman, who was the cause of this deplorable aggression, be knocked down to Señor Belle Tête for three thousand crowns."
The agent bowed with rather an angry look, for the worthy man had hoped, from the way things were going on, to reach a much higher figure; but he dared not make any observations to Chevalier de Fontenay; he must yield, and so he did.
"Louise is adjudged for three thousand crowns," he said, with a sigh of regret—not for the woman, but for the money—"to M. Belle Tête."
"Very good, Governor," the baffled adventurer said, with an ugly smile, "I must bow to your final sentence; but Belle Tête and I will meet again."
"I hope so, too, Picard," Belle Tête answered, coldly; "there must be bloodshed between us now." During this time Louise had come down from the platform, when another woman took her place, and had stationed herself, still weeping, by the side of Belle Tête, who was henceforth her lord and master.
M. de Fontenay gave a commiserating glance at the poor girl, who was about, in all probability, to endure such a cruel existence with so harsh a man, and then gently said to her—
"Madame, from this day you are for three years the legitimate wife of M. Belle Tête, and owe him obedience, affection, and fidelity; such are the laws of the colony: in three years you will be your own mistress, at liberty to leave him or to continue to live with him, if he desire it; be good enough to sign this paper."
The unhappy woman, blinded by her tears, and crushed by despair, signed, without looking at it, the paper which the Governor offered her; then she cast a heart-broken glance at this silent and indifferent crowd, in which she knew that she could not find a friend.
"Now, sir," she asked, in a gentle and trembling voice, "what must I do?"
"You must follow this man, who will be your husband for three years," M. de Fontenay answered, with a touch of pity, which he could not overcome.
At this moment Belle Tête laid his hand on the girl's shoulder; she shuddered all over, and looked wildly at him.
"Yes," he said, "my girl, you must follow me; for, as the Governor has told you, I am your husband for three years, and till the expiration of that time, you will have no other master but me. Now, listen to this, my darling, and engrave it carefully on your mind, so as to remember it at the right moment: what you have done, what you have been, until now, does not concern me, and I care little about it; but," he added, in a hollow, ferocious voice, which chilled the poor girl with horror, "from this day, from this moment, you belong to me—to me alone: I intrust to you my honour, which becomes yours, and if you compromise that honour—if you forget your duties," he said, as he dashed the butt end of his musket on the ground, so harshly, that the hammer rattled with an ill-omened sound, "this will remind you of them; now, follow me."
"Be gentle to her, Belle Tête," M. de Fontenay could not help saying—"she is so young."
"I shall be just, Governor: now, thanks for your impartiality, it is time for me to retire. Picard, my old friend, you know where to find me."
"I shall not fail to come and see you, but I do not, wish to trouble your honeymoon," Picard replied, with a growl.
Belle Tête withdrew, followed by his wife.
The sale henceforth offered nothing of interest; the few women remaining were sold at prices far inferior to that which Louise had fetched, to the great regret, we are bound to add, of the Company's agent.
The adventurers were preparing to leave the shed where they imagined there was nothing more to see; but at this moment Montbarts mounted the platform, and addressed the crowd in a sonorous voice—
"Brothers," he said, "stay, I have an important communication to make to you."
The adventurers remained motionless.
All the adventurers assembled round the platform, anxiously awaiting what Montbarts had to tell them.
"Brothers," he said, a moment after, "I am preparing a new expedition, for which I require three hundred resolute men; who among you will follow Montbarts the Exterminator?"
"All, all!" the adventurers shouted, enthusiastically.
The Governor prepared to withdraw.
"Pardon me, Chevalier de Fontenay," Montbarts said, "be kind enough to remain a few minutes longer; the expedition I have projected is most serious: I am about to dictate a charter party, to which I will ask you, as Governor of the colony, to append your signature before that of our companions—moreover, I have a bargain to propose to you."
"I will remain, since you desire it, Montbarts," the Governor replied, as he returned to his seat; "now be kind enough to inform me of the bargain you wish to propose."
"You are the owner, sir, I think, of two brigantines of eighty tons each?"
"I am."
"These brigantines are useless to you at this moment, as you appear, at least until fresh orders, to have given up cruising, while they will be very useful to me."
"In that case, sir, they are at your service from this moment," the Governor replied, gallantly.
"I thank you, as I ought, for your politeness, sir, but that is not my meaning; in an expedition like the one I meditate, no one can foresee what may happen, hence I propose to buy your two ships for four thousand crowns cash."
"Very good, sir, since you wish it; I am delighted to be of service to you; the two ships are yours."
"I shall have the honour of handing you the four thousand crowns within an hour."
The two men bowed; and then the filibuster turned to the adventurers, who were waiting, panting with, impatience, and whose curiosity had been heightened by the purchase of the two vessels.
"Brothers," he said, in his sonorous and sympathetic voice, "for two months past no expedition has been attempted, and no ship has put to sea; are you not beginning to grow tired of this idle life which you and I are leading? Are you not beginning to run short of money, and are not your purses light? Zounds, comrades, come with me, and within a fortnight your pockets shall be full of Spanish doubloons, and the pretty girls, who today are so coy, will then lavish their most charming smiles on you—down with the Spaniards, brothers! Those of you who are willing to follow me can give their names to Michael the Basque, my mate. Still, as the shares will be large, the danger will be great; to obtain them I only want men resolved to conquer or to die bravely, without asking quarter of the enemy or granting it; I am Montbarts the Exterminator—I grant no mercy to the Spaniards, nor do I ask it of them."
Enthusiastic shouts greeted these words, uttered with that accent which the celebrated filibuster knew so well how to assume when he wished to seduce the individuals he was addressing.
The enlistment began; Michael the Basque had seated himself at the table previously occupied by the Company's agent, and wrote down the names of the adventurers, who pressed round him in a crowd, and who all wished to join in an expedition which they foresaw would be most lucrative.
But Michael had received strict instructions from his master: convinced that he should not want for men, and that more would offer than he needed, he carefully selected those whose names he took, and pitilessly rejected those adventurers whose reputation for, we will not say bravery, for all were brave as lions, but for reckless daring, was not thoroughly established.
Still in spite of Michael's intended strictness, the number of three hundred was soon complete. We need scarce say they were the flower of the filibusters, all adventurers, the least renowned of whom had performed deeds of incredible daring, men with whom attempting impossibilities and achieving them had become but mere child's play.
The first inserted were, as had been agreed on the preceding night, the members of the society of the Twelve.
Hence M. de Fontenay, who, an old filibuster himself, knew all these men, not only by reputation, but from having seen them at work, could not recover from his surprise, and incessantly repeated to Montbarts, who was standing, calm and smiling at his side, "What can you be after? Do you mean to seize on Hispaniola?"
"Who knows?" the filibuster replied sportively.
"Still, I think I have a right to your confidence," the governor said in an offended tone.
"The most entire, Sir; still, you are aware that the first condition of security in an expedition is secrecy."
"That is true."
"I cannot tell you anything, but do not prevent you from guessing."
"Guessing! But how?"
"Well, perhaps the charter party will set you on the right track."
"Well, let me hear it."
"A little patience still; but stay, here is Michael coming toward me. Well," he asked him, "have you completed our number?"
"I should think so; I have three hundred and fifty men."
"Hang it, that is a great number."
"I could not do otherwise than accept them; when it is a question about going with Montbarts, it is impossible to keep them back."
"Well, we will take them, if it must be so," Montbarts said with a smile, "give me your list."
Michael handed it to him; the filibuster looked round him, and perceived an agent of the Company, whom curiosity had kept back, and who had remained in the shed to witness the enlistment.
"You are a Company's agent, I think, sir?" he said to him, politely.
"Yes, sir," the agent replied with a bow, "I have that honour."
"In that case, may I ask you to do me a service?"
"Speak, sir, I shall be only too glad to oblige you."
"My companions and myself are no great clerks, and we can use a hatchet better than a pen; would it be presuming too much on your kindness to ask you to be good enough to serve as my secretary for a few minutes, and write down the charter party I shall dictate to you, and which my comrades will sign, after having it read to them?"
"I am only too happy, sir, that you deign to honour me with your confidence," the agent said with a bow.
Then he seated himself at the table, selected some paper, mended a pen and waited.
"Silence, if you please, gentlemen," said the Chevalier de Fontenay, who had exchanged a few words in a low voice with Montbarts.
The private conversations were checked, and a profound silence was established almost instantaneously. M. de Fontenay continued.
"A filibustering expedition, composed of three ships, two brigantines and a lugger, is about to leave St. Kitts, under the command of Montbarts, whom I appoint, in the name of His most Christian Majesty, Louis, fourteenth of that name, admiral of the fleet. This expedition, whose object remains secret, has been joined by 350 men, the flower of the filibusters. The three captains chosen to command the ships are, Michael the Basque, William Drake, and John David. They are ordered to obey in every point the commands they will receive from the admiral, and each captain will himself appoint his officers." Then, turning to Montbarts, he added, "Now admiral, dictate the charter party."
The adventurer bowed, and addressing the Company's agent, who was watching with head and pen erect, he said to him—
"Are you ready, sir?"
"I await your orders."
"In that case write as I dictate."
No expedition ever left port without having previously proclaimed the charter party: this document, in which the rights of each man were rigorously stipulated, served as the supreme law for these men, who, undisciplined though they were ashore, bowed without a murmur to the strictest decrees of the naval code: so soon as they had set foot on the vessel for which they were engaged, the captain of yesterday became a sailor today, accepted without grumbling the eventual inferiority which the duration of the cruise alone maintained, and which ended on the return to port, by placing each member of the expedition on the same level, and on a footing of the most perfect equality.
We quote literally the charter party our readers are about to peruse, because from this authentic act they will understand more easily the range and power of this strange association, and the manner in which the filibusters treated each other.
Montbarts dictated what follows in a calm voice amid the religious silence of his auditors, who only interrupted him at intervals, by shouts of approbation.
"Charter party decreed by Admiral Montbarts, Captains Michael the Basque, William Drake, John David, and the Brethren of the Coast, who have voluntarily placed themselves under their orders, and which is fully consented to by them."
"The admiral will have a right, in addition to his share, to one man per hundred."
"Each captain will receive twelve shares."
"Each brother four shares."
"These shares will only be counted after the king's part has been deducted from all the shares."
"The surgeons will receive, in addition to their share, two hundred dollars each, as payment for their medicaments."
"The carpenters, in addition to their share, will each, have a claim for one hundred dollars, in remuneration of their labours."
"Any disobedience will be punished by death, whatever be the name or rank of the culprit."
"The brothers who distinguish themselves in the expedition will be rewarded in the following manner—The man who pulls down the enemy's flag from a fortress, and hoists the French one, will have a claim, in addition to his share, to fifty piastres."
"The man who takes a prisoner, when out in search of news of the enemy, will have, in addition to his share, one hundred piastres."
"The grenadiers, for each grenade thrown into a fort, five piastres."
"Any man, who in action captures a high officer of the enemy, will be rewarded by the admiral, if he has risked his life, in a generous way."
"Rewards offered, in addition to their share, to the wounded and mutilated."
"For the loss of both legs, fifteen hundred crowns, or fifteen slaves, at the choice of the recipient: if there are enough slaves."
"For the loss of both arms, eighteen hundred piastres or eighteen slaves, at choice."
"For a leg, no distinction between right and left, five hundred piastres or five slaves."
"For an eye, one hundred piastres or a slave; for an arm or a hand, no distinction between right and left, four hundred piastres or four slaves."
"For both eyes, two thousand piastres, or twenty slaves."
"For a finger, one hundred piastres or one slave: if any man be dangerously wounded in the body he will have five hundred piastres or five slaves."
"It is already understood, that, in the same way, as with the king's part, all these rewards will be raised on the whole of the booty, before dividing the shares."
"Any enemy's vessel captured either at sea or at anchor, will be divided between all the members of the expedition, unless it be valued at more than ten thousand crowns, in which case one thousand crowns will be set apart for the first ship's crew that boarded: the expedition will hoist the royal flag of France, and the admiral bear in addition thered, white, and blueflag."
"No officer or sailor of the expedition will be allowed to remain ashore anywhere unless he has previously obtained the admiral's permission, under penalty of being declared a maroon, and prosecuted as such."
When this last paragraph which, like all that preceded it, had been listened to in the most profound silence, had been recorded by the Company's agent, Montbarts took the charter party, and read it through in a loud clear voice—
"Does this charter party suit you, brethren?" he then asked the filibusters.
"Yes, yes," they shouted, waving their caps, "long live Montbarts! Long live Montbarts!"
"And you swear, as my officers and myself swear, to obey without a murmur, and strictly carry out all the clauses of this charter party?"
"We swear it," they repeated.
"Very good," Montbarts continued; "the embarkation will commence at sunrise tomorrow, and all the crews must be on board the fleet before ten o'clock."
"We will be there."
"Now, brethren, let me remind you that each of you must be armed with a fusil, and a cutlass, have a bag of bullets, and at least three pounds of gunpowder: I repeat that the expedition we are about to undertake is most serious, so that you may not forget to choose your chums, that they may aid you in the case of illness or wounds, and make your wills, as otherwise your shares would lapse to the king. You have understood me, brothers? Employ as you please the few hours' liberty left you, but do not forget that I expect you on board at day break tomorrow."
The filibusters replied by shouts, and left the shed, where there only remained the governor, Montbarts, his captains, and the new engagé called the Olonnais, whom the adventurer had bought by auction a few hours previously, and who, far from being sad, seemed, on the contrary, extremely pleased at all that was going on in his presence.
"As for you, gentlemen," Montbarts said, "I have no orders to give you, for you know as well as I what you have to do. Draw lots for your commands, then go on board, inspect the masts and rigging, and get ready to sail at the first signal. These are the only recommendations, I think, I need make you. Good-bye."
The three captains bowed, and at once withdrew.
"Ah!" Chevalier de Fontenay said, with an accent of regret, "My dear Montbarts, I never see an expedition preparing without having a lively feeling of sorrow, and almost of envy."
"Do you regret your adventurous life, sir? I understand that feeling, although each expedition brings you an augmentation of wealth."
"What do I care for that? Do not believe that I make an avaricious calculation. No! My thoughts are of a higher order. But the moment is badly chosen to chatter with you. Go, sir! And if you succeed, as I do not doubt—and yet, who knows? On your return we shall perhaps be able to come to an understanding; and then we will attempt an expedition together, which I hope will be talked about for a long time."
"I shall be glad," the filibuster replied, politely, "to have you as a partner. Your brilliant courage, and far from ordinary merit, are to me certain guarantees of success. I shall therefore have the honour to hold myself at your orders, if it please Heaven that I succeed this time, and return safe and sound from the expedition I meditate."
"Good luck, sir; and let us hope to meet again soon."
"Thank you, sir."
They shook hands; and as, while conversing, they had left the shed, they went different roads, after a parting bow.
The filibuster, followed by the engagé, proceeded slowly towards his house.
At the moment when he left the town, a man placed himself before him, and bowed.
"What do you want with me?" the adventurer asked, giving him a scrutinizing glance.
"To say a word to you."
"Say on."
"Are you Captain Montbarts?"
"You must be a stranger, to ask that question."
"No matter. Answer."
"I am Captain Montbarts."
"In that case, this letter is for you."
"A letter for me!" he exclaimed, in surprise.
"Here it is," the stranger said, as he presented it.
"Give it to me."
And he took it from him.
"Now my commission is performed, farewell."
"A word, in your turn."
"Speak."
"From whom comes this letter?"
"I do not know; but you will probably learn by reading the contents."
"That is true."
"Then I may retire?"
"Nothing prevents you."
The stranger bowed, and went away.
Montbarts opened the letter, hurriedly perused it, and turned pale. Then he re-read it; but this time slowly, and as if he wished to dwell on each sentence.
A moment later he seemed to form a resolution, and turned to his engagé, who was standing a few paces from him.
"Come here," he said to him.
"Here I am," said the other.
"You are a sailor?"
"A 1, I fancy."
"That is well. Follow me."
The filibuster turned back, hastily re-entered the town, and proceeded toward the sea.
He seemed to be seeking something. A moment later, his gloomy face grew brighter.
He had just seen a light canoe pulled up on the beach.
"Help me to float this canoe," he said to the engagé.
The latter obeyed.
So soon as the canoe was afloat, Montbarts leaped in, closely followed by his engagé; and seizing the paddles, they put off from the shore.
"Step the mast, so that we may hoist a sail so soon as we are free of the ships."
The Olonnais, without answering, did as he was ordered.
"Good!" Montbarts continued. "Now haul the sheets aft, and hand them to me, my lad."
In a second the sail was hoisted, set, and the light canoe bounded like a petrel over the crest of the waves.
They ran thus for some time without exchanging a word. They had left the ships far behind them, and passed out of the roads.
"Do you speak Spanish?" Montbarts suddenly asked the engagé.
"Like a native of Old Castile," the other answered.
"Ah! Ah!" said Montbarts.
"It is easy to understand," the Olonnais continued. "I went whaling with the Basques and Bayonnese, and for several years smuggled along the Spanish coast."
"And do you like the Spaniards?"
"No!" the other answered, with a frown.
"You have a motive, of course?"
"I have one."
"Will you tell it me?"
"Why not?"
"Out with it, then."
"I had a boat of my own, in which, as I told you, I smuggled. I worked six years to save up the money to buy this boat. One day, while seeking to land prohibited goods in a bay to windward of Portugalete, I was surprised by a Spanish revenue lugger. My boat was sunk, my brother killed, myself dangerously wounded, and I fell into the hands of the Gavachos. The first bandage they placed on my wounds was a bastinado, which left me for dead on the ground. Believing, doubtless, that they had killed me, they abandoned me then, and paid no further attention to me. I succeeded by boldness and cunning, after enduring indescribable tortures from hunger, cold, fatigue, &c., too lengthy to enumerate, in at length leaping across the frontier, and finding myself once again on French soil. I was free, but my brother was dead. I was ruined, and my old father ran a risk of dying of hunger—thanks to the Spaniards. Such is my history. It is not long.—How do you like it?"
"It is a sad one, my good fellow; but it is as much hatred as the desire of growing rich which has brought you among us?"
"It is hatred, before everything."
"Good! Take the helm in my place, while I reflect. We are going to Nevis. Steer to windward of that point which juts out down there to the southeast."
The engagé seized the helm. Montbarts wrapped himself in his cloak, pulled his hat over his eyes, let his head sink on his chest, and remained motionless as a statue. The canoe still advanced, vigorously impelled by the breeze.
Nevis is only separated from St. Kitts by a channel half a league in width at the most.
This charming little island, whose fertility is remarkable, is, according to all probability, the result of a volcanic explosion; and this assertion is nearly proved by a crater containing a spring of hot water strongly impregnated with sulphur.
Seen from a distance, it offers the appearance of a vast cone; it is, in fact, only a very lofty mountain, whose base is watered by the sea; its sides at first offering an easy incline, become, at a certain height, excessively abrupt; all vegetation ceases, and its snow covered peak is lost in the clouds.
During the attack of the Spaniards on St. Kitts, several adventurers had sought shelter on this isle. Some of them, seduced by attractive sites, permanently settled there, and commenced forming plantations; few in number, it is true, and too far apart for the inhabitants to aid each other in the event of an attack from an external foe, but which prospered, and promised, ere long, to acquire a certain amount of importance.
The filibuster, although his little skiff was impelled by a good breeze, took some time in reaching the island, because he was obliged to go along the entire length of the channel ere he reached the spot where he wished to go.
The sun was already beginning to decline, when the canoe at length put into a small sandy creek.
"Pull up the canoe, hide the paddles among the reeds," said Montbarts, "and follow me."
The Olonnais obeyed with the punctuality and intelligent vivacity which he displayed in everything, and then said to his master—
"Shall I take my fusil?"
"There is no harm in doing so," the latter replied; "an adventurer should never go unarmed."
"Very good; I will remember that."
They proceeded inland, following a scarce-traced path, which ran with a gentle incline from the beech, wound round a rather steep hill, and after passing through a leafy mahogany forest, led to a narrow esplanade, in the centre of which a light canvas tent had been pitched, not far from a rock.
A man, seated before the entrance of the tent, was reading a Breviary. He was dressed in the strict attire of the Franciscans, and seemed to have passed middle life. He was pale and thin, his features were ascetic and stern, his countenance was intelligent, and a marked expression of gentleness was spread over it. At the sound of the adventurers' footsteps he raised his head quickly, turned towards them, and a melancholy smile played round his lips.
Hurriedly closing his book, he rose and walked a few steps toward the newcomers.
"Heaven be with you, brothers!" he said in Spanish, "If you come with pure intentions; if not, may it inspire you with better thoughts."
"My father," the filibuster said, returning his salutation, "I am the man whom the adventurers of St. Kitts call Montbarts, and my intentions are pure, for in coming here I have only yielded to the desire you expressed to see me, if you are really Fray Arsenio Mendoza, from whom I received a letter a few hours ago."
"I am the person who wish to see you, brother; and that is really my name."
"In that case speak, I am ready to hear you."
"Brother," the monk answered, "the things I have to communicate to you are of the highest importance, and concern you alone. Perhaps it would be better that you alone should hear them."
"I do not know what important matters you can have to tell me, father; but in any case, learn that this man is my engagé, and, as such, it is his duty to be deaf and dumb when I order him."
"Very good, I will speak in his presence, since you demand it; still, I repeat to you, that it would be better for us to be alone."
"I will act in accordance with your wish. Retire out of hearing, but keep in sight," he said to his engagé.
The latter retired about one hundred yards down the path, and leant on his fusil.
"Do you fear any treachery on the part of a poor monk like me?" the Franciscan asked, with a sad smile; "That would be very gratuitously imputing to me intentions very remote from my thoughts."
"I suppose nothing, father; still, I am accustomed," the filibuster coarsely answered, "always to be on my guard when I am in the presence of a man of your nation, whether he be priest or layman."
"Yes, yes," he said, in a sorrowful voice, "you profess an implacable hatred for my unhappy country, and for that reason are called the Exterminator."
"Whatever be the feelings I profess for your countrymen and the name it has pleased them to give me, it is not, I suppose, to discuss this point with me that you have come here at a serious risk, and requested me to meet you."
"Indeed, it was not for that motive, you are right, my son, though, personally, I might have a good deal to say on that subject."
"I would observe, father, that the hour is advancing—I have but little time at your service, and if you do not hasten to explain yourself, I shall be, to my great regret, constrained to leave you."
"You would regret it for your whole life, brother, were it as long as a patriarch's."
"That is possible, though I greatly doubt it. I can only receive bad news from Spain."
"Perhaps so; in any case, these are the news of which I am the bearer."
"I am listening to you."
"I am, as my gown shows you, a monk of the order of San Francisco de Asís."
"At least, you have the look of one," the adventurer remarked, with an ironical smile.
"Do you doubt it?"
"Why not? Would you be the first Spaniard who was not afraid to profane a sacred dress, in order to spy our movements the more easily?"
"Unfortunately what you say is true, and it has happened only too often; but I am merely a monk."
"I believe you, till I have proof of the contrary; so go on."
"Very good. I am the spiritual director of several ladies of quality in the island of Hispaniola: one among them, young and beautiful, who only arrived in the West Indies a short time ago with her husband, appears to be devoured by an incurable grief."
"Indeed! And what can I do to prevent it, father?"
"I know not: still, this is what took place between this lady and myself. The lady, who, as I told you, is young and fair, and whose charity and goodness are inexhaustible, spends the greater part of her days in her oratory, kneeling before a picture representing our Lady of Mercy, imploring her with tears and sobs. Interested, in spite of myself, by this so true and so profound grief, I have on several occasions employed the right which my sacred office gives me, to try and penetrate into this ulcerated heart, and obtain from my penitent a confession, which would permit me to give her some consolation."
"And I presume that you have not succeeded, father?"
"Alas! No, I have not."
"Allow me to repeat to you, that, up to the present I do not see in this very sad story, which is to some extent, however, that of most women, anything very interesting to me."
"Wait, brother, I am coming to that."
"In that case, proceed."
"One day, when this lady appeared to me to be more sad than usual, and I redoubled my efforts to induce her to open her heart to me—doubtless overcome by my solicitations, she said these words to me, which I repeat to you exactly:—'My father, I am an unhappy, cowardly, and infamous creature, and a terrible malediction weighs on me. Only one man has the right to know the secret which I try, in vain, to stifle in my heart. Upon this man depends my salvation. He can condemn or acquit me: but whatever be the sentence he may pronounce, I will bow without a murmur beneath his will, too happy to expiate at this price the crime of which I have been guilty.'"
While the monk was pronouncing these words, the usually pale face of the adventurer had turned livid, a convulsive trembling agitated his limbs, and, in spite of his efforts to appear calm, he was constrained to lean against one of the tent pickets, lest he should fall on the ground.
"Go on!" he said, in a hoarse voice. "Did this woman tell you the man's name?"
"She did, brother. 'Alas!' she said to me, 'Unfortunately the man on whom my destiny depends is the most implacable enemy of our nation. He is one of the principal chiefs of those ferocious adventurers who have vowed a merciless war against Spain. I shall never meet him, except in the horrors of a combat, or during the sack of a town fired by his orders. In a word, the man I am speaking to you about is no other than the terrible Montbarts the Exterminator.'"
"Ah!" the adventurer muttered, in a choking voice, as he pressed his hand forcibly against his chest, "The woman said that?"
"Yes, brother; such are the words she uttered."
"And then?"
"Then, brother, I, a poor monk, promised her to seek you, to find you, no matter where you were, and repeat her words to you. I had only death to fear in trying to see you, and I long ago offered God the sacrifice of my life."
"You have acted like a noble-hearted man, monk; and I thank you for having had confidence in me. Have you nothing to add?"
"Yes, brother, I have. When the lady saw me fully resolved to brave all perils for the sake of finding you, she added, 'Go, then, my father: it is doubtless Heaven that takes pity on me, and inspires you at this moment. If you succeed in reaching Montbarts, tell him that I have a secret to confide to him, on which the happiness of his whole life depends; but that he must make haste, if he wish to learn it, for I feel that my days are numbered, and that I shall soon die.' I promised her to accomplish her wishes faithfully, and I have come."
There was a silence for some minutes. Montbarts walked up and down with hanging head, and arms folded on his chest, stopping every now and then to stamp his foot savagely: then, resuming his hurried walk, while muttering unconnected words in a low voice.
All at once he stopped before the monk, and looked him straight in the face.
"You have not told me all," he said to him.
"Pardon me, brother; everything, word by word."
"Still there is an important detail, which you have doubtless forgotten, as you have passed it over in silence?"
"I do not understand to what you are alluding, brother," the monk replied, gravely.
"You have forgotten to reveal to me the name and position of this woman, father."
"That is true: but it is not forgetfulness on my part. In acting thus, I have obeyed the orders I received. The lady implored me to tell you nothing touching her name or position. She reserves that for herself, when you are alone together: and I swore to keep her secret."
"Ah! Ah! Señor monk," the adventurer exclaimed, with a wrath the more terrible because it was concentrated; "You have taken that oath?"
"Yes, brother, and will keep it at all risks," he answered firmly.
The adventurer burst into a hoarse laugh.
"You are doubtless ignorant," he said, in a hissing voice, "that weladrones, as your countrymen call us, possess marvellous secrets to untie the most rebel tongues, and that you are in my power."
"I am in the hands of God, brother—try it. I am only a poor defenceless man, incapable of resisting you. Torture me, then, if such be your good pleasure; but know that I will die, without revealing my secret."
Montbarts bent a flashing glance on the monk who stood so calm before him; and then, a moment after, struck his forehead angrily.
"I am mad!" he exclaimed: "What do I care for this name—do I not know it already? Listen, father. Forgive me what I said to you, for passion blinded me. You came to this island freely, and shall leave it freely—in my turn I swear it to you; and I am not more accustomed to break any oaths I take—no matter their nature—than you are."
"I know it, brother. I have nothing to forgive you. I see that grief led you astray, and I pity you, for Heaven has chosen me, I feel a presentiment of it, to bring a great misfortune upon you."
"Yes, you speak truly. I did not seek this woman—I tried to forget her, and it is she who voluntarily places herself in my path. It is well, Heaven will judge between her and me. She demands that I will go and see her, and I will do so, but she must only blame herself for the terrible consequences of our interview. Still, I consent to leave her yet one chance of escape. When you return to her, urge her not to try to see me again. You see, that I have a little pity for her in my heart, in spite of all she made me suffer; but if, in spite of your entreaties, she persists in meeting me, in that case her will be done. I will go to the place of meeting she may select."
"I know where it is, brother, and am ordered to point it out to you today."
"Ah," the filibuster said, suspiciously, "she has forgotten nothing. Well, where is it?"
"The lady, you can understand, cannot quit the island, even if she wished to do so."
"That is true. So we are to meet in Hispaniola itself?"
"Yes, brother."
"And what spot has she selected?"
"The great Savannah, that separates Mirebalais from San Juan de Goava."
"Ah! The spot is famously chosen for an ambuscade," the filibuster said, with a sneering laugh, "for if I remember rightly, it is on Spanish territory."
"It forms the extreme limit, brother. Still, I will try to induce the lady to choose another spot, if you are afraid about your safety at this one."
Montbarts shrugged his shoulders with a contemptuous laugh.
"I afraid!" he said. "Nonsense, monk, you must be mad! What do I care for the Spaniards, if five hundred of them were ambushed to surprise me, I should be able to get away from them! It is settled, then, that if the lady persist in her intention of having an explanation with me, I will go to the Savannah, which extends between Mirebalais and San Juan de Goava, at the confluence of the great river and the Artibonite."
"I will do what you desire, brother; but if the lady insist, in spite of my remonstrances and entreaties, on the interview taking place, how am I to warn you?"
"As it is possible for you to come here, you will be the better able; without attracting suspicion, to enter the French part of St. Domingo."
"I will try, at any rate, brother, since it must absolutely be so."
"You will light a large fire on the coast in the vicinity of Port Margot, and I shall know what it means."
"I will obey you, brother: but when am I to light the fire?"
"How long do you propose remaining here?"
"I intend to leave immediately after our interview."
"This evening, then?"
"Yes, brother."
"Ah, ah, then there is a Spanish vessel in the neighbourhood?"
"Probably so, brother; but if you discover it and capture it, how shall I succeed in returning to Hispaniola?"
"That is true; this consideration saves the Gavachos: but believe, after due reflection, I think it my duty to give you some advice."
"Whatever it may be, brother, coming from you, I shall receive it with pleasure."
"Well, then, carry out your intention. Start at once; tomorrow it will not be pleasant for you in these waters, and I would not answer for your safety or that of your vessel. Do you comprehend me?"
"Perfectly, brother; and for the signal?"
"Light it fifteen days from today, and I will arrange so as to arrive at St. Domingo about that time."
"Very good, brother."
"And now, monk, farewell till we meet again, as it is probable we shall do."
"It is probable, indeed, brother. Farewell, and may the merciful Lord be with you!"
"So be it," the filibuster said, with an ironical laugh.
He gave a parting wave of his hand to the monk, threw his fusil on his shoulder, and went off, but a few minutes after stopped and went back.
The Franciscan had remained motionless at the same spot.
"One last word, father," he said.
"Speak, brother," he answered, gently.
"Take my advice, employ all your power over the lady to induce her to give up this meeting, whose consequences may be terrible."
"I will try impossibilities to succeed, brother," the monk replied; "I will pray to Heaven to permit me to persuade my penitent."
"Yes," Montbarts added, in a gloomy voice, "it would be better for her and for me, perhaps, if we never met again."
And roughly turning his back on the monk, he hurried along the track, where he speedily disappeared.
When Fray Arsenio felt certain that this time the adventurer had really gone, he gently raised the curtain of the tent and stepped inside.
A woman was kneeling there on the bare ground, with her head buried in her hands, and praying with stifled sobs.
"Have I punctually accomplished your orders, my daughter?" the monk said.
The woman drew herself up and turned her lovely pale and tear-swollen face toward the monk.
"Yes, padre," she murmured, in a low and trembling voice. "Bless you for not abandoning me in my distress."
"Is this really the man with whom you desire an interview?"
"Yes, it is he, father."
"And you still insist on seeing him?"
She hesitated for a moment, a shudder ran over her whole person, and then she murmured in a hardly intelligible voice—
"I must, father."
"You will reflect between this and then, I hope," he continued.
"No, no," she said, with a sorrowful shake of the head; "if that man were to plunge his dagger into my heart, I must have a final explanation with him."
"Your will be done," he said
At this moment, a slight sound was heard outside.
The monk went out, but returned almost immediately.
"Get ready, madam," he said; "our crew have come to fetch you. Remember the parting advice thatladróngave me, and let us be gone as soon as possible."
Without replying, the lady rose, wrapped herself carefully in her mantilla, and went out.
An hour later, she left Nevis, accompanied by Fray Arsenio Mendoza.
Montbarts had reached St. Kitts long before.
During the entire passage from Nevis to St. Kitts Montbarts was in a strange state of excitement.
The interview he had held with the monk had rearoused in his heart a profound sorrow which time had deadened but not cauterized, and at the first word that fell in this hour's conversation the wound burst open again, bleeding and livid as on the day of its receipt.
How had this woman, whom he would not name, of whose presence in America he was ignorant, whom, in short, he fancied he had escaped by hiding himself among the filibusters, succeeded in so short a time, not only in learning his presence in the islands, but also in finding him again? For what object did she insist on finding him? What interest could she have in seeing him?
All these questions, which he asked himself in turn, necessarily remained unanswered, and for that very reason augmented his anxiety.
For a moment he thought of laying an ambush in the straits of Nevis and St. Eustache, the two islands between which St. Kitts is situated, capturing the Spanish vessel, and obtaining by torture the information the monk had refused to give him.
But he gave up this plan almost immediately; he had pledged his word of honour, and would not break it for anything in the world.
In the meanwhile, night had set in, and the canoe was still advancing.
Montbarts steered for the lugger, which was anchored a short distance from land.
When the light boat was under the vessel's counter, the filibuster made his engagé a sign to lay on his oars, and shouted in a loud voice—
"Lugger, ahoy!"
At once, a man whose black outline was designed on the dark blue horizon, leant over.
"Boat ahoy!" he shouted.
"Is that you, Bowline?" Montbarts continued.
"All right."
"Is Michael aboard?"
"Yes, admiral."
"Ah, you have recognised me, my lad?"
"Of course," said the Breton.
"I suppose you are watching over my prisoner?"
"I answer for him."
"But do not annoy him unnecessarily."
"All right, admiral, we will be gentle with him."
"Is Omopoua aboard at this moment?"
"Here I am, master," a second voice immediately replied.
"Ah, ah," the filibuster said with satisfaction, "all the better. I want you—come ashore."
"Are you in a hurry, master?"
"A great hurry."
"In that case, wait a moment."
And ere the filibuster could guess the Carib's intention, the noise of a body falling in the water could be heard, and two or three minutes later the Indian rested his hands on the gunwale of the canoe.
"Here I am," he said.
Montbarts could not refrain from smiling on seeing with what promptitude the savage obeyed his orders. He held out his hand, and helped him to get into the boat.
"Why such a hurry?" he said to him in a tone of friendly reproach.
The Indian shook himself like a drowned poodle.
"Nonsense," he said, "I am all right."
"Have you got the Indian?" Bowline asked.
"Yes: now good night; you will see me tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?"
"Pull," the filibuster said to the engagé.
The latter dipped his paddles, and the canoe resumed its course.
Ten minutes later, it ran aground at the very spot where Montbarts had seized it for the purpose of going to Nevis. The three men landed on the beach, pulled up the canoe, and went off in the direction of the hatto.
They passed through the town and a swarm of filibusters, who were celebrating by songs, shouts, and libations their last hours of liberty.
They went on in silence. When the three men reached the hatto, Montbarts lit a candle, and searched the house with the greatest care, to make sure that no stranger was present; then he returned to his two comrades, who were waiting for him in the Esplanade.
"Come in," he merely said to them.
They followed him.
Montbarts sat down in a chair, and then turned to the Carib.
"I have to talk with you, Omopoua," he said.
"Good," the Indian remarked, joyously; "in that case you have need of me."
"If that were true you would be satisfied, then?"
"Yes, I should be."
"For what reason?"
"Because, since I have found a white man who is good and generous, I am anxious to prove to you that all the Caribs are not ferocious and untameable, but know how to be grateful."
"I promised you, I think, to take you back to your country?"
"Yes, you made me that promise."
"Unfortunately, as I am appointed chief of an important expedition, which will probably last some time, it is impossible for me at this moment to take you back to Haiti."
The Indian's face grew dark on hearing this.
"Do not grieve, but listen to me attentively," the filibuster continued, who had noticed the change that took place in the Indian's face.
"I am listening to you."
"What I cannot do you are able to effect by yourself, if I supply you with the means."
"I do not exactly understand what the white Chief means; I am only a poor Indian, with limited ideas. I require to have things explained to me very clearly before I understand them; but it is true, that when I do understand I never forget."
"You are a Carib, hence you know how to manage a canoe?"
"Yes," the Indian answered, with a proud smile.
"Suppose I gave you a canoe, do you believe that you could fetch Haiti?"
"The great land is very far away," he said, in a sorrowful voice, "the voyage very long for a single man, however brave he may be."
"Agreed; but suppose I placed in the canoe not only provisions, but cutlasses, axes, daggers, and four fusils, with powder and ball?"
"The pale Chief would do that!" he said, with an incredulous air. "Thus armed, who could resist Omopoua?"
"Suppose I did more?" the adventurer continued, with a smile.
"The Chief is jesting; he is very gay. He says to himself, the Indians are credulous; I will have a laugh at the expense of Omopoua."
"I am not jesting, Chief—on the contrary, I am very serious; I will give you the things I have enumerated to you, and, in order that you may reach your country in safety, I will lend you a comrade, a brave man, who will be your brother, and defend you as you would defend yourself."
"And that companion?"
"Is here," said Montbarts, pointing to his engagé, who was standing calm and motionless by his side.
"Then I am not to make the expedition with you, Montbarts?" the latter said, in a sad voice, and with a reproachful accent.
"Reassure yourself," said Montbarts, tapping him gently on the shoulder; "the mission I send you on is most confidential, and even more perilous than the expedition I am undertaking. I wanted a devoted man—another self—and I have chosen you."
"You have done well, in that case; I will prove to you that you are not mistaken about me."
"I am convinced of that already, my lad. Do you accept this companion, Omopoua? He will help you to pass without being insulted through the filibusters you may meet on your route."
"Good! The pale Chief really loves Omopoua. What is the Indian to do on arriving in his country?"
"Omopoua's brothers have sought shelter, I think, in the neighbourhood of the Artibonite?"
"Yes, in the great savannahs to which the French have given the name of Mirebalais."
"Good! Omopoua will go and join his friends; he will tell them in what way the filibusters treat the Caribs: he will present his companion to them, and wait."
"I will wait: the pale Chief, then, is coming to Haiti?"
"Probably," said Montbarts, with a smile of indefinable meaning; "and the proof is, that my engagé will remain with your tribe till my arrival."
"Good! I will await the coming of the pale Chief. When am I start?"
"This very night. Go down to the beach; go in my name to the owner of the canoe which brought us ashore—here is money," and he gave him several piastres; "tell him that I buy his boat exactly as it stands. You will lay in provisions at the same time, and then wait for your comrade, to whom I have a few words to say—but he will rejoin you soon."
"I will go, then; gratitude is in my heart, and not on my lips. On the day when you ask for my life I will give it you, because it is yours, as well as that of all those who love me. Farewell!"
And he made a movement to leave the room.
"Where are you going?" Montbarts asked him.
"I am off; did you not give me leave to go?"
"Yes, but you are forgetting something."
"What is it?"
"The arms I promised you. Take from the rack a fusil for yourself, and four others, which you can dispose of as you please, six cutlasses, six daggers, and six hatchets; when you leave port, on passing the lugger, you will ask Michael the Basque, in my name, for two barrels of gunpowder and two bags of bullets—he will give them to you. Now go, and I wish you all good fortune."
The Carib, overcome by this generosity, so simple and so full of grandeur, knelt to the adventurer, and seizing his feet, which he placed on his head, he exclaimed, in a deeply affected voice—
"I pay you homage as to the best of men. I and mine are henceforth and eternally your devoted slaves." He got up, placed on his shoulder the arms which the engagé handed him, and quitted the hatto.
For some minutes his footsteps could be heard resounding on the path; but this sound gradually died away, and a complete silence returned.
"Now for us two, Olonnais!" Montbarts then said, addressing the engagé.
The latter drew nearer.
"I am listening, master," he said.
"I saw you today for the first time, and yet you pleased me at the very first glance," the adventurer continued. "I fancy myself a tolerable physiognomist. Your frank and open face, your bold-looking eyes, and the expression of audacity and intelligence spread over your features, disposed me in your favour. That is the reason why I bought you. I trust that I am not deceived about you; but I wish to make trial of you. You know that I am at liberty to shorten your engagement, or even, if I like, restore you your freedom tomorrow, so think of that, and act accordingly."
"Whether engaged or free I shall always be devoted to you, Montbarts," the Olonnais said, "hence do not speak to me of recompense, for it is useless with me: make your trial, and I hope to emerge from it with honour."
"That is speaking like a man and a frank adventurer: listen to me, then, and do not let a word of what you are about to hear escape your lips."
"I shall be dumb."
"In ten days at the most I shall anchor in Port Margot in St. Domingo; the expedition I command is intended to take Tortoise Isle by surprise; but while we are occupied on our side in surprising the Spaniards, they must not be able to attack us in the rear, and ruin our establishments at Grande Terre."
"I understand; Omopoua's Caribs are scattered along the Spanish frontier, and must be converted into allies of the expedition."
"The very thing—you have understood me perfectly. Such is your missive; but you must act with extreme cleverness and considerable prudence, in order not to give the alarm to the Gavachos on one hand, or arouse the suspicious of the Caribs on the other; the Indians are susceptible and mistrustful, especially with white men, against whom they have so many causes of complaint. The part you have to play is rather difficult, but I think you will succeed—thanks to the influence of Omopoua; besides, two days after my arrival at Port Margot, I will proceed to the savannahs of the Artibonite, in order to have an understanding, and to make the arrangements I may consider necessary. You see that I act toward you with perfect frankness, and rather as with a brother than an engagé."
"I thank you for it; you shall have no cause to repent it."
"I am glad to believe it—ah! A final recommendation, of secondary importance, but, for all that, serious."
"What is it?"
"The Spaniards frequently hunt, or make excursions in the savannahs of the Artibonite; watch them, though without letting them perceive you; let them not have the slightest suspicion of what we are meditating against them, for the least imprudence might have excessively grave consequences for the success of our plans."
"I will act with prudence, be assured."
"Now, my lad, I have only to wish you a pleasant trip, and successful result."
"Will you allow me, in my turn, to ask you a question before departing?"
"Speak, I allow it."
"For what reason have you, who possess so many brave and devoted friends, instead of applying to one of them, chosen an obscure engagé, whom you hardly know, to confide to him so difficult and so confidential a mission?"
"Are you anxious to know?" the adventurer asked, laughingly.
"Yes, if you do not consider the question indiscreet."
"Not the least in the world, and you shall be satisfied in a couple of words. Apart from the good opinion I have of you, and which is only personal, I have chosen you, because you are only a poor engagé, who arrived from France but two days ago—no one knows you, or is aware that I have purchased you: for this reason no one will dream of suspecting you, and consequently you will be a more valuable agent to me, as no one will imagine that you are my plenipotentiary, and acting under my orders. Now do you understand, my lad?"
"Perfectly, and I thank you for the explanation you have given me. Good-bye; within an hour the Carib and I will have left St. Kitts."
"Allow him to guide you during the voyage, that man is very clever, though an Indian, and he will conduct you so that you will both reach port in safety."
"I shall not fail to do so; besides, the deference I shall show him will dispose him in my favour, and further advance the success of our projects."
"Come, come," the adventurer said, with a laugh, "I see that you are a sharp lad, and I now have good hopes of the issue of your mission."
The Olonnais armed himself as the Carib had done, then took leave of his master, and went away.
"Come," Montbarts muttered, when he was alone, "I believe that my plans are beginning to assume consistency, and that I shall soon be able to deal a grand stroke."
The next morning at sunrise an unusual agitation prevailed in the township, which, however, was never very tranquil.
The filibusters, armed to the teeth, were taking leave of their friends, and preparing to proceed on board the vessels for which they had enlisted on the previous day.
The roads were cut up in all directions by a prodigious number of canoes which passed to and fro, carrying men and provisions to the departing ships.
The Chevalier de Fontenay, surrounded by a numerous staff of renowned filibusters, and having at his side Montbarts, David Drake, and Michael the Basque, was standing at the end of the wooden mole that served as a landing place, and witnessing thence the departure of the adventurers.
These men with bronzed complexion, energetic and ferocious features, and vigorous limbs, scarce clad in canvas drawers and old hats or caps, but armed with long fusils, manufactured at Dieppe expressly for them, having a heavy sharpened cutlass hanging from their belt, and carrying their stock of powder and bullets, had a strange and singularly formidable appearance, rendered even more striking by the expression of carelessness and indomitable audacity spread over their faces.
On seeing them it was easy to understand the terror with which they must inspire the Spaniards, and the incredible exploits they achieved almost as if in play, reckoning their lives as nothing, and only seeing the object, that is to say, plunder.
As they defiled before the governor and the officers elected to command them, they saluted them respectfully, because discipline demanded it, but the salute had nothing low or servile about it, it was that of men fully conscious of their value, and aware that though sailors today, they might, as they liked, be captains tomorrow.
Towards midday the crews were complete, and only the Admiral and three captains were still ashore.
"Gentlemen," Montbarts said to his officers, "so soon as we are out to sea, each of you will sail as you like; we have but a small stock of provisions on board, but the islands we pass will supply us, do not hesitate to pillage the corales of the Gavachos, for that will be so much taken from the enemy. Hence it is settled that we will each proceed separately to the general meeting place, for prudence urges us not to let the enemy suspect our strength; our meeting place is the northern island of the Grand Key; the first to arrive will await the two others, there I will give you my final instructions about the object of the expedition, of which you already know a part."