"No matter," another replied; "in accordance with your laudable custom, you begin by expressing a doubt."
"Not at all," the first speaker sharply interposed; "a fear, at the most."
"Well," a third said; "we shall soon know what we have to expect, for here we are halfway up the path, thank Heaven!"
"That demon of a Montbarts," the first went on, "has famously chosen his position. His hatto is impregnable, on my word as a man."
"Yes. I do not think that thegavachos[1]will ever venture to attempt an escalade. But, by the way," he added suddenly, and halted; "suppose we are taking a useless walk, and Montbarts is not at home?"
"I will answer for your finding him at home, Red Stocking, so set your mind at rest."
"How do you know?" asked the man addressed by this singular name.
"My God! Don't you see his flag hoisted at the masthead?"
"That is true. I had not noticed it."
"But now you see it, I suppose?"
"I should be blind if I didn't."
"Well," one of the filibusters said, who had hitherto maintained silence; "all this does not tell us why the meeting is to be held. Do you know anything about it, brother?"
"No more than you," Red Stocking replied. "It is probably some daring project which Montbarts is meditating, and wishes us to take a part in."
"But you know that he has not only summoned us, but also the principal French filibusters?"
"In that case I am quite at sea," Red Stocking remarked. "However, it is of little consequence at present, as I presume we shall soon know what is wanted of us."
"That is true, because we have arrived."
In fact, they reached at this moment the head of the path, and found themselves on the platform exactly facing the hatto, whose door was open as if inviting them to enter.
A very bright light poured through the doorway, and the sound of loud talking testified that there was a rather large gathering inside the hatto.
The Englishmen continued to advance, and soon found themselves on the threshold.
"Come in, brothers," Montbarts' harmonious voice was heard saying from the interior; "come in, we are waiting for you."
They entered.
Six or seven persons were assembled in the room, which they entered: they were the most renowned chiefs of the filibusters. Among them were Belle Tête (handsome head), the ferocious native of Dieppe, who had murdered more than three hundred of his engagés, whom he accused of dying of indolence; Pierre le Grand, the Breton, who always boarded the Spanish galleons in the disguise of a female; Alexandre Bras de fer (iron arm), a young and apparently frail and delicate man, with effeminate features, but in reality endowed with a prodigious and herculean vigour, and destined hereafter to become one of the heroes of the buccaneering trade; Roc, surnamed the Brazilian, although born at Groningen, a town in East Friesland; and lastly, two old acquaintances of ours, Bowline and Michael the Basque, who both arrived at St. Kitts at the same time as Montbarts, and whose reputation as filibusters was already great.
As for the English, who had just entered the hatto, five in number; they were Red Stocking, whose name was mentioned in the preceding conversation; Morgan, a young man hardly eighteen years of age, with a haughty face and aristocratic manners; Jean David, a Dutch sailor, settled in the eastern part of the island; Bartholomew, a Portuguese, also settled in the English colony; and lastly, William Drake, who had taken an oath never to attack the Spaniards, unless they were in the proportion of fifteen to one, so great was the contempt he professed for the proud nation.
It was, as we see, a select gathering of all the great filibusters of the day.
"You are welcome, brothers," said Montbarts; "I am glad to see you, for I was awaiting you impatiently. Here are pipes, tobacco, and spirits; smoke and drink," he added, pointing to a table placed in the centre of the room.
The filibusters sat down, lighted pipes, and filled glasses.
"Brothers," Montbarts resumed a moment later, "I have requested you to come to my hatto for two reasons of great importance, and of which the second necessarily depends on the first: are you prepared to listen to me?"
"Speak, Montbarts," William Drake answered in the name of all; "you, whom the gavachos have surnamed the Exterminator, a name I envy you, brother, for you can only wish the good of filibustering."
"That is the very subject," Montbarts answered.
"I was sure of it, brother. Speak, we will listen to you religiously."
They prepared to listen attentively. All these energetic men, who recognised no laws but those themselves had made, knew not what envy was, and were ready to discuss with the most entire good faith the proposals which they foresaw Montbarts desired to make to them.
The latter reflected for a moment, and then spoke in a gentle voice, whose sympathetic accent soon captivated his audience.
"Brothers," he said, "I will be brief, for you are picked men, with warm hearts and firm hands, with whom a long speech is not only useless, but also ridiculous Since my arrival at St. Kitts, I have been studying filibustering, its life, manners, and aspirations, and I have recognised with sorrow that the results do not justify its efforts. What are we doing? Nothing, or almost nothing. In spite of our indomitable courage, the Spaniards laugh at us; too weak, owing to our isolation, to inflict serious losses on them, we expend our energy in vain; we shed our blood, to take from them a few wretched vessels. It is not thus that matters ought to go on; this is not the vengeance which each of us dreamed of. What is the cause of our relative weakness toward our formidable enemy? The isolation, to which I alluded just now, and which will forever paralyze our efforts."
"That is true," Red Stocking muttered.
"But how can we alter it?" David asked.
"Alas!" William Drake added, "The remedy is unfortunately impossible."
"We are adventurers merely, and not a power," said Belle Tête.
Montbarts smiled—that pale, peculiar smile of his, which turned the heart cold.
"You are mistaken, brothers," he said, "the remedy is found; if we like, we shall soon be a power."
"Speak, speak, brother," all the adventurers exclaimed, springing up.
"This is my plan, brothers," he continued; "we are here twelve, of all nations, but with one heart; the flower of filibusterism, I declare loudly; without fear of contradiction, for each of us has furnished proofs of it, and what proofs! Well, let us join and form a family; from our share of the prizes let us set aside a sum intended to form the common treasury, and while remaining at liberty to organize private expeditions, let us swear never to injure or thwart one another, to offer mutual help when needed, to labour with all our power to the ruin of Spain, and while keeping our association secret from our comrades and brothers, to combine our forces when the moment arrives to crush our implacable enemy at one blow. Such, brothers, is the first proposal I have to make to you. I await your answer."
There was a momentary silence; the filibusters understood the importance of their brother's proposal, and the strength it would give them in the future. They exchanged glances, whispered together, and at length William Drake replied in the name of all—
"Brother," he said, "you have just elucidated in a few words a question which has hitherto remained in obscurity. You have perfectly defined the cause of our weakness, by finding at the same time, as you promised us, not the remedy, but the means to render an association hitherto due to accident and almost useless, really formidable and useful: but this is not all. This association, to which you allude, requires a head to direct it, and ensure the success of its efforts at the right moment. It is therefore necessary that while our association remains secret, and, as it were, not in existence at all, in every point that does not affect its object, one of us should be appointed chief; a chief, the more powerful, because we shall be devoted to him, and aid him in working for the general good."
"Is this really your opinion, brothers?" Montbarts asked. "Do you accept my proposal such as I made it, and as William Drake has modified it?"
"We accept it so," the filibusters replied with one voice.
"Very good. Still I think that this chief, to whom you refer, should be unanimously elected by us; that his authority may be taken from him at a meeting of the assembly by a majority of voices, if he do not strictly fulfil the conditions he has accepted; that, as guardian of the treasury, he must always be ready to furnish his accounts, and that his appointment should not exceed five years, unless renewed."
"All that is fair," said Red Stocking; "no one can understand the general good better than you, brother."
"Hence," David remarked, "we shall be partners; no quarrel, no dissension can well be possible among us."
"While ostensibly retaining our free will and most complete independence," Belle Tête reminded.
"Yes," Montbarts replied.
"Now, brothers," said Drake, rising, and doffing his cap, "listen to me: I, William Drake, swear on my faith and honour, the most complete devotion to the association of the Twelve, submitting myself beforehand to undergo the punishment my brothers may please to inflict on me, even death, if I were to betray the secret of the Association, and break my oath. Heaven help me!"
After Drake each filibuster uttered the same oath in a firm voice, and with a solemn accent.
They resumed their seats.
"Brothers," said Montbarts, "what we have hitherto done is nothing; it is only the dawn of the new era which is about to open, for the glorious days of filibustering are beginning—twelve men like us, united by the same thought, must perform miracles."
"We will do so, be assured, brother," Morgan said, as he carelessly picked his teeth with a gold pin.
"Now, brothers, before I submit my second proposal to you, I believe we had better elect a president."
"That is true," said David; "as the company is formed, let us elect the president."
"One word first," said Michael the Basque, stepping into the centre of the circle.
"Speak, brother."
"I wish to add this: every member of the Association who falls into the hands of the gavachos shall be delivered by the other members, whatever perils they may have to incur in doing so."
"We swear it!" the filibusters shouted enthusiastically.
"Unless it is impossible," Morgan said.
"Nothing is impossible for us," William Drake remarked, rudely.
"That is true, brother. You are right, I was mistaken," Morgan replied, with a smile.
"The society will be called that of The Twelve; only the death of a member will allow another to be admitted, and he must be chosen unanimously," Michael continued.
"We swear it!" the filibusters exclaimed once more.
"Now, brothers," said Bartholomew, "let us proceed to the election, by ballot, in order to protect the liberty of the vote."
"There are pens, ink, and paper on that table, brothers," Montbarts remarked.
"And here is my cap," Red Stocking said, with a laugh; "throw your votes into it."
And, removing his beaver skin cap, the filibuster laid it on the ground in the middle of the room.
Then the adventurers, with perfect order, rose one after the other, and in turn went to write their vote, which they deposited, after rolling up the paper, in Red Stocking's cap.
Then all the adventurers returned to their seats:
"Have we all voted?" David asked.
"All!" the filibusters replied, in chorus.
"Now, brother," Drake said to David, "since you hold the cap, proclaim the result."
David questioned his comrades with a glance, and they bowed their heads in affirmation; then he took up the first roll that came to hand, opened it, and read—
"Montbarts, the Exterminator."
And passed on to a second.
"Montbarts, the Exterminator," he read again.
It was the same with the third, fourth, and so on up to the twelfth and last—all bore the words—
"Montbarts, the Exterminator."
It was a sinister challenge given to the Spanish nation, of whom this man was the most obstinate enemy.
Montbarts rose, took off his hat, and bowed gracefully to his comrades.
"Brothers," he said, "I thank you—the confidence you place in me shall not be disappointed."
"Long live Montbarts, the Exterminator!" all the filibusters shouted, impulsively.
The terrible company of The Twelve was created. Filibusterism then really became a formidable power.
[1]Term of contempt for the Spaniards.
[1]Term of contempt for the Spaniards.
Montbarts allowed the enthusiasm of his comrades time to calm, and then spoke again.
There was no change in his appearance; nothing in his face denoted the joy of triumph or of satisfied ambition; still the vote of his companions, by nominating him Chief of the filibusters, had rendered him in a moment a man more powerful than many a prince. His face was just as impassive, his voice equally firm.
"Brothers," he said, "do you remember that I had a second proposal to make to you?"
"That is true," William Drake replied—"speak, brother, we are listening to you."
"The second proposal is as follows: still, I must request you before answering me to reflect fully on it. Your opinion must not be lightly expressed, for, I repeat to you, and dwell on it in order that you may thoroughly understand me, this proposition is most serious and grave. In a word, it is this:—I propose to you to abandon the island of St. Kitts, and choose another place of refuge, more convenient, and, above all, safer for you."
The filibusters gazed at him in amazement.
"I will explain," he said, stretching out his arms as if to request silence; "listen to me carefully, brothers, for what you are going to hear interests you all. Our refuge is badly chosen, and too remote from the centre of our expeditions; the difficulties we have to surmount in returning to it, in consequence of the currents that make our ships drift, and the contrary winds that oppose their speed, make us lose precious time. Now, the Caribbean archipelago is composed, of more than thirty islands, among which it is easy for us, it seems to me, to choose the one that suits us best. This idea which I bring before you today I have been revolving in my mind for a long time. I have not limited my expeditions to the pursuit of the gavachos. I have also made a voyage of discovery, and believe that I have found the spot suited for us."
"Whereabouts is it, brother?" David asked, making himself spokesman for his companions.
"I mean the island which the Spaniards call Hispaniola, and you know as St. Domingo."
"But, brother," Bartholomew here interposed, "that island, which, I allow, is immense, and covered with magnificent forests, is inhabited by the Spaniards; if we went there it would be really placing ourselves in the wolf's throat."
"I thought as you do before I had assured myself of the reality of the fact, but now I am certain of the contrary; not alone is the island only partially occupied by the gavachos, but we shall also find allies in the parties they have despised."
"Allies!" the filibusters exclaimed, in surprise.
"Yes, brothers, and in this wise.—When Don Fernando de Toledo attacked St. Kitts, the French who succeeded in escaping from the massacre took refuge on the adjacent islands, as you are aware; many of them went further, and reached St. Domingo, where they found a refuge. That was bold, was it not? But, I repeat to you, the Spaniards occupy scarce one-half of it. At the period of the discovery they left some horned cattle on the island; these beasts have propagated, and now exist in herds. The immense savannahs of St. Domingo are covered with innumerable herds of wild oxen which graze on all the uninhabited part; these herds, as you are aware, are a certain resource for revictualling our ships, and, moreover, the vicinity of the Spanish colonists offers us the means to satiate our hatred upon them; besides, our companions who have been established on the island for some years past wage an incessant and obstinate war upon them."
"Yes, yes," said Belle Tête, pensively; "I understand what you are saying to us, brother. You are right up to a certain point; but let us discuss the matter quietly and coolly, like serious men."
"Speak," Montbarts replied; "each of us has the right to express his opinion when the common interest is concerned."
"Brave though we are, and we may boast of it frankly, for, thank heaven, our courage is well known, we are not strong enough for all that—at present at least—to measure ourselves against the Spanish power on land; there is a difference between capturing a ship and facing an entire population. You allow that, I suppose, brother?"
"Certainly I do."
"Very good, I will go on. It is evident that the Spaniards, who up to the present have probably not noticed them, or, at any rate, owing to their small number and slight importance, have disdained the adventurers established on the desert part of the island; when they see that this establishment, which they supposed to be temporary, and due to the caprice of our brothers, is becoming permanent, and assuming the menacing proportions of a colony, they will refuse to permit it—what will happen then? This: they will collect all their forces, assail us suddenly, destroy us after a desperate resistance, and ruin at one blow, not only our new colony, but also our hopes of vengeance."
These remarks of Belle Tête, which displayed close logic, produced a certain effect on the filibusters, who began exchanging meaning looks; but Montbarts did not allow the spirit of opposition time to spread, and at once went on to say—
"You would be right, brother, if, as you suppose, we were to place our principal establishment on St. Domingo; it is evident that we should be crushed by numbers, and forced to retire disgracefully; but a man would know me badly if he supposed that I, who have an implacable hatred of these infamous gavachos, could possibly conceive such a plan for a moment, if I had not previously assured myself about its success, and the profit we shall derive from it."
"Come, brother," Drake said, "explain yourself clearly; we are listening to you with the most earnest attention."
"To the northwest of St. Domingo, and only separated from it by a narrow channel, there is an island about eight leagues long, surrounded by rocks called the iron coast, which render any landing impossible, except at the south, where there is a fine port, whose bottom is composed of sand, and where vessels are sheltered from all winds, which, besides, are not violent in those parts; there are also a few sandy bays scattered along the coast, but they are only approachable by canoes. This island is called Tortuga or Tortoise Island, owing to its shape, which slightly resembles that animal. Here it is, brothers, I propose that we should form our principal establishment, or, if you prefer it, our headquarters. The Port of Peace, and Port Margot, situated facing Tortoise Isle, will enable us to keep up an easy communication with St. Domingo: sheltered in our island, as in an impregnable fortress, we shall brave the efforts of the whole Spanish power. But I do not wish to deceive you, and must tell you everything; the Spaniards are on their guard; they have foreseen that if buccaneering goes on, that is to say, if they do not succeed in destroying us, the excellent position of that island would not escape our notice, and that we should probably attempt to seize on it: hence they have had it occupied by twenty-five soldiers, commanded by an alférez. Do not smile, brothers; although the garrison is small, it is sufficient, owing to the manner in which it is entrenched, and the difficulties a landing offers; and then, too, it can easily obtain reinforcements from the Grande Terre in a very short time. I have often landed in disguise on Tortoise Isle. I have inspected it with the greatest care, and hence you can attach the most entire confidence to the information I am giving you."
"Montbarts is right," Yoc, the Brazilian, said at this moment; "I know Tortoise Isle, and, like him, I am persuaded that island will offer us a far surer and more advantageous shelter than St. Kitts."
"Now, brothers," Montbarts resumed, "reflect, and answer yes or no. If you accept my offer I will prepare to realize my plan by seizing the island; if you refuse, I will never mention it again."
And, in order by his absence to give more liberty for discussion, the adventurer left the room, and proceeded to the terrace in front of the hatto, where he began walking up and down, apparently indifferent to what was going on, but in his heart very anxious as to the result of the deliberation.
He had only been walking up and down for a few minutes, when a slight whistle was audible a short distance off, so gently modulated, that it needed all the sharpness of hearing with which the filibuster was endowed, to catch it.
He walked rapidly in the direction where this species of signal had been heard. At the same moment, a man lying on the ground, and so thoroughly concealed by the gloom that it was impossible to perceive him unless he was known to be there, raised his head, and displayed in the white moonbeams the copper face, and delicate and intelligent features of a Carib.
"Omopoua?" the filibuster said.
"I am waiting!" the Indian laconically answered, as he sprang up at one bound, and stood erect before him.
Omopoua, that is to say, the leaper, was a young man of twenty-five years of age at the most, of a tall and admirably proportioned stature, whose skin had the gilded shade of Florentine bronze. He was naked, with the exception of thin canvas drawers, fastening round his hips, and falling nearly to his knees. His long, black hair, parted in the centre of his head, fell on his shoulders on either side. He had no other weapons but a long knife, and a bayonet passed through a cowhide belt.
"Has the man arrived?" Montbarts asked.
"He has."
"Has Omopoua seen him?"
"Yes."
"Does he fancy himself recognised?"
"Only the eye of a determined foe could guess him beneath his disguise."
"That is well! My brother will conduct me to him?"
"I will lead the pale chief."
"Good! Where shall I find Omopoua an hour after sunrise?"
"Omopoua will be in his hut."
"I will come there;" and, hearing several voices calling him from the interior of the hatto, he said, "I reckon on the Indian's promise."
"Yes, if the chief keeps his."
"I shall keep it."
After exchanging a last meaning look with the filibuster, the Carib glided down the face of the cliff, and disappeared almost instantaneously.
Montbarts remained for a moment motionless, plunged in deep thought; then, giving a sudden start, and passing his hand over his forehead, as if to efface any sign of emotion, he hastily re-entered the hatto.
The deliberation was ended. The filibusters had returned to their seats, and Montbarts went back to his, and waited with affected indifference, till one of his comrades thought proper to speak.
"Brother," David then said, "we have thoroughly discussed your proposal. My comrades authorize me to tell you that they accept it, but they merely desire to know what means you intend to employ in carrying out your plan, and insuring its success?"
"Brothers, I thank you," Montbarts replied, "for giving me your consent. As to the means I intend to employ in seizing Tortoise Isle, permit me, for the present, to keep them secret, as the success of the expedition depends on it. You need only be told that I do not wish to compromise the interests of anyone, and that I intend to run all the risk alone."
"You do not understand me, brother, or else I have explained myself badly," David replied. "If I asked you in what way you proposed to act, I was not at all impelled by a puerile curiosity, but because, in so serious a question, which interests the entire association, we have resolved to accompany you, and to die or conquer with you. We wish to share the honour of the triumph, or assume a part of the defeat." Montbarts felt involuntarily affected by these generous words, so nobly pronounced; and by a spontaneous movement he held out his hands to the filibusters, who pressed them energetically, and said,—
"You are right, brothers. We must all share in the great work which, I hope, will at length place us in the position to achieve great things. We will all go to Tortoise Island. But I will ask you—and believe me that I am not speaking thus through any ambitious motive—to let me conduct the expedition."
"Are you not our chief?" the filibusters exclaimed.
"We will obey you according to the laws of buccaneering," David added. "The man who conceives an expedition has alone the right to command. We will be your soldiers."
"That is settled, brothers. Tomorrow morning, at eleven, after attending the sale of the new engagés, who arrived from France the day before yesterday, I will go to the governor, and tell him I am preparing a fresh expedition, and enlistment can begin at once."
"Not one of us will be missing at the rendezvous," said Belle Tête. "I must buy two engagés to fill the places of two idlers, who have just died of sheer idleness."
"That is settled," said Bartholomew. "At eleven o'clock we will all be at Basse Terre."
They then rose and prepared to retire: for the whole night had passed away in these discussions, and the sun, although still beneath the horizon, was already beginning to tinge it with a purple hue, that testified it would soon appear.
"By the way," Montbarts said, with an indifferent air to Morgan, whom with the rest he accompanied to the head of the path; "if you are not greatly attached to your Carib—I forget how you call him—"
"Omopoua?"
"Ah! yes. Well, I was saying that if you were not indisposed to part with him, I should feel obliged by your letting me have him."
"Do you want him?"
"Yes. I think he will be useful to me."
"In that case, take him, brother. I yield him to you, although he is a good workman, and I am satisfied with him."
"Thanks, brother. What value do you set on him?"
"Well, I will not bargain with you, brother. I saw a rather handsome fusil in your house. Give it to me, and take the Indian, and we shall be quits."
"Wait a minute, then."
"Why?"
"Because I will give you the fusil at once. You will send me the Indian; or, if I have time, I will call and fetch him during the day."
The filibuster returned to the hatto, took down the fusil, and carried it to Morgan, who threw it on his shoulder with a movement of joy.
"Well, that is settled," he said. "Good-bye, for the present."
"We shall meet again soon," Montbarts answered, and they separated.
Montbarts threw a thick cloak over his shoulders, put on a broad brimmed hat, whose brim fell over his face, and concealed his features, and then turning to Michael, said:
"Mate, an important matter obliges me to go to Basse Terre; you will go to our governor, the Chevalier de Fontenay, and without entering into any details, and being very careful not to betray our secret, you will simply warn him that I am preparing a fresh expedition."
"Very good, mate, I will go," Michael answered.
"You will then examine the lugger, and occupy yourself with Bowline, in getting her ready to put to sea."
After giving these instructions to the two sailors, Montbarts left the house, and descended the cliff.
The Chevalier de Fontenay, like M. d'Esnambuc, whom he had succeeded two years before as governor of St. Kitts, was a cadet of Normandy, who had come to the isles to try his fortune, and before becoming governor had joined in many buccaneering expeditions. He was exactly the man they wanted; he left them at liberty to act as they pleased, never asked them for any accounts, understood at half a word, and contented himself with raising a tithe on the prizes—a voluntary tribute which the adventurers paid him in return for the protection he was supposed to give them in the king's name by legitimating their position.
The sun had risen, a fresh sea breeze caused the leaves to rustle, and the birds were singing on the branches. Montbarts walked on hurriedly, looking neither to the right nor left, and apparently plunged in deep thought.
On reaching the entrance of the village of Basse Terre, instead of entering it, he skirted it, and going along a narrow path that crossed a tobacco plantation, he went toward the interior of the island, proceeding in the direction of Mount Misery, whose rise was already perceptible beneath his feet.
After a very long walk, the filibuster at length stopped at the entrance of a dry gorge, on one of the slopes of which stood a wretched hut of tree trunks, poorly covered with palm leaves. A man was standing in the doorway of this cabin: on perceiving Montbarts he uttered a cry of joy and rushed toward him, running over the rocks with the rapidity and lightness of a deer.
This man was Omopoua, the Carib; on coming up to the filibuster, he fell on his knees.
"Rise," the adventurer said to him, "what have you to thank me for?"
"My master told me an hour ago that I no longer belonged to him, but to you."
"Well, did I not promise it to you?"
"That is true, but the white men always promise, and never keep their word."
"You see a proof of the contrary; come, get up, your master has sold you to me, it is true, but I give you your liberty; you have now but one master, God."
The Indian rose, laid his hand on his chest, tottered, his features were contracted, and for a moment he seemed suffering from a violent internal emotion, which in spite of all the power he had over himself, he could not succeed in mastering.
Montbarts, calm and gloomy, examined him attentively, while fixing a scrutinizing glance upon him.
At length the Indian succeeded in speaking, though his voice issued from his throat like a whistle.
"Omopoua was a renowned chief among his people," he said; "a Spaniard had degraded him by making him a slave, through treachery, and selling him like a beast of burden: you restore Omopoua to the rank from which he ought never to have descended. It is well, you lose a bad slave, but gain a devoted friend; were it not for you I should be dead—my life belongs to you."
Montbarts offered the Carib his hand, which he kissed respectfully.
"Do you intend to remain at Saint Kitts, or would you like to return to Haiti?"
"The family of Omopoua," the Indian replied, "and what remains of his people, are wandering about the savannahs of Bohis, but where you go, I will go."
"Very good, you shall follow me; now lead me to the man, you know whom."
"At once."
"Are you certain he is a Spaniard?"
"I am."
"You do not know for what motives he has entered the island?"
"I do not."
"And at what place has he sought shelter?"
"With an Englishman."
"In the English colony there?"
"No; at Basse Terre."
"All the better. What is the Englishman's name?"
"Captain William Drake."
"Captain Drake!" Montbarts exclaimed with surprise, "It is impossible."
"It is so."
"In that case, the Captain does not know him."
"No; the man entered his house and asked for hospitality, and the Captain could not refuse it to him."
"That is true; go up to my hatto, take clothes, a fusil—in short, what weapons you like, and come to me at Captain Drake's; if I am no longer there, you will find me on the port; begone."
Montbarts then turned back, and proceeded toward Basse Terre, while the Carib went towards the hatto as the bird flies, according to Indian custom.
Basse Terre was the entrepôt, or to speak more correctly, the headquarters of the French colony: at the period when our story is laid it was only a miserable township, built without order, according to the caprice or convenience of each owner, an agglomeration of huts, rather than a town, but producing at a distance a most picturesque effect through this very chaos of houses of all shapes and sizes, thus grouped along the seashore, in front of magnificent roads, filled with vessels swinging at their anchors, and constantly furrowed by an infinite number of canoes.
A battery of six guns, built on an advanced point, defended the entrance of the roads.
But in this town, apparently so mean, dirty, and wretched, it was possible to watch the circulation of the life full of sap, vigour, and violence belonging to the strange inhabitants, unique in the world, who formed its heterogeneous population. The narrow gloomy streets were crowded with people of every description and colour, who came and went with a busy air.
There were pothouses at the corner of all the streets and squares, perambulating dealers shouted their goods in a ropy voice, and public criers, followed by a crowd which was swelled at every step by all the idlers, announced with a mighty noise of trumpets and drums, the sale on that very day of the engagés, who had just arrived in a Company's vessel.
Montbarts passed unnoticed through the crowd, and reached the door of Captain Drake's house—a rather handsome looking and cleanly kept house, which stood on the seashore at no great distance from the governor's residence.
The filibuster pushed the door, which, according to the custom of the country, was not locked, and entered the house.
Montbarts, as we said, walked into the house.
There were two persons in the first room, which was contrived a double debt to pay, as half sitting room, half kitchen.
These two persons were an engagé of Captain Drake and a stranger.
As for the Captain, he was absent at the moment.
The filibuster's eye flashed at the sight of the stranger, and an ill-omened smile curled his pale lips.
As for the latter, he was seated at a table in the middle of the room, and quietly breakfasting on a piece of cold bacon, washed down by a bottle of Bordeaux,—a wine, let us remark, parenthetically, which, though unknown in Paris till the reign of Louis XV., when the Duc de Richelieu brought it into fashion on his return from the government of Guyenne—had been for a long time appreciated in America.
The stranger was of rather tall stature, with a pale face, and ascetic features, thin, bony, and angular; but his noble manners indicated a high rank in society, which rank his simple and even more than modest costume tried in vain to conceal.
On the filibuster's entrance, the stranger, without raising his head, took a side-glance at him from under his long velvety eyelashes, and again became absorbed or appeared to be so, in the contemplation of the capital breakfast set before him.
Everything was in common among the filibusters, everyone took from the other, whether he was at home or not, anything he wanted, arms, gunpowder, clothes or food, and the person from whom it was taken had no right to protest or make the slightest observation; this was not merely admitted and tolerated, but was regarded as a right which all took advantage of without the slightest scruple.
Montbarts, after looking round the room, took a chair, seated himself unceremoniously opposite the stranger, and turning to the engagé, said—
"Bring me some breakfast—I am hungry."
The other, without venturing the slightest remark, immediately prepared to obey.
In a very short time he had served up an excellent breakfast for the filibuster, and then took his place behind his chair to wait on him.
"My friend," the filibuster said, carelessly, "I thank you; but when I take my meals I do not like to have anybody behind me. Leave the room, but remain in front of the house door;" and he added, with a singularly meaning glance, "let no one enter here without my orders: no one—you understand me?" he said, laying a stress on the words; "Not even your master, were he to come. Can I depend on you?"
"Yes, Montbarts," said the engagé, and left the room.
At the name of Montbarts, uttered by the servant, the stranger gave an almost imperceptible start, and fixed an anxious glance on the filibuster; but immediately recovering himself, he began eating again in the most perfect tranquillity, or at least apparently so.
For his part, Montbarts went on eating without troubling himself, or seeming to trouble himself, about the guest seated just opposite to him.
This performance went on for some minutes; no other sound was heard in the room, where such violent passions were smouldering, but that produced by the knives and forks scratching on the platters.
At length Montbarts raised his head and looked at the stranger.
"You are very taciturn, sir," he said to him, with the simple air of a man who is wearied at a lengthened silence, and wishes to get up a conversation.
"I, sir?" the stranger replied, as he looked up in his turn with the calmest air; "Not that I am aware of."
"Still, sir," the filibuster resumed, "I would remark, that during the quarter of an hour I have had the honour of passing in your company, you have not once addressed a syllable to me, not even in greeting."
"Pray excuse me, sir," the stranger said, with a slight bow; "the fault is entirely involuntary: besides, as I have not the advantage of knowing you—?
"Are you quite sure of that, sir?" the adventurer interrupted, ironically.
"At least, I think so; hence, having nothing to say to you, I suppose that it would be useless to begin a conversation which would have no object."
"Who knows, sir?" the filibuster remarked, jeeringly; "Conversations the most frivolous at the outset, frequently become very interesting at the expiration of a few minutes."
"I doubt whether that would be the case with ours, sir. Permit me, therefore, to break it off at once. Besides, I have finished my meal," the stranger said, rising; "and some serious business claims my attention. Pray forgive me, therefore, for parting company so hurriedly, and believe in the sincerity of my regret."
The adventurer did not leave his seat, but throwing himself back in it with a graceful nonchalance, while playing with the knife he held in his hand, he said in his gentle insinuating voice—
"Pardon me, my dear sir; only one word, pray."
"In that case make haste, sir," the stranger replied, as he stopped, "for I am greatly pressed for time, I assure you."
"Oh! You will certainly grant me a few minutes," the adventurer remarked, with the old sarcasm.
"As you desire it so eagerly, I will not refuse it you, sir. But I really am in a hurry."
"I have no doubt on that point, sir; more especially hurried to leave this house—is it not so?"
"What do you mean, sir?" the stranger asked, haughtily.
"I mean," the adventurer replied, as he rose and placed himself between the stranger and the door, "that it is useless to feign any longer, and that you are recognized."
"I recognized? I do not understand you. What does this language mean?"
"It means," Montbarts said brutally, "that you are a spy and a traitor, and that you will be hanged within ten minutes."
"I?" the stranger replied, with very cleverly assumed surprise; "Why, you must be mad, sir, or suffering under a strange mistake. Let me pass, I request."
"I am not mad or mistaken, Señor Don Antonio de la Ronda."
The stranger started, a livid pallor covered his face, but he immediately recovered himself.
"Why, this is madness!" he said.
"Sir," Montbarts remarked, still calm, but remaining in front of the door, "when I affirm, you deny. It is evident that one of us lies, or is mistaken. Now I declare that it is not I, hence it must be you; and to remove your last doubts on this point, listen to this, but first be good enough to resume your seat. We shall have, however much it may annoy you, to converse for some time and I will remark, that it is a very bad taste to talk standing face to face like two gamecocks ready to fly at each other's combs, when it is possible to act otherwise."
Mastered, in spite of himself, by the adventurer's flashing glance obstinately fixed on him, and by his sharp, imperative accent, the stranger returned to his seat, and fell into it rather than sat down.
"Now, sir," the filibuster continued, in the same calm voice, as he reseated himself and placed his elbows on the table, "in order at once to dissipate all the doubts you may have, and to prove to you that I know more about you than you will doubtless like, let me tell you your history in a couple of words."
"Sir!" the stranger interrupted.
"Oh, fear nothing," he added, with studied sarcasm, "I shall be brief: I no more like than you do to waste my time in idle discourses; but just notice, by the bye, that, as I prophesied, our conversation, at first frivolous, has suddenly grown interesting. Is not this singular, I ask you?"
"I am awaiting your explanation, sir," the stranger replied, coolly; "for, up to the present, whatever you may say, I do not comprehend a word of all that it pleases you to say to me."
"By Heavens! You are a man after my heart. I was not mistaken about you. Brave, cold, and crafty, you are worthy to be a filibuster, and to lead an adventurous life with us."
"You do me a great honour, sir; but all this does not tell me—"
"Zounds! I am coming to it, sir—a little patience. How quick you are! Take care: in your profession a man must be cool before all else, and you are not so at this moment."
"You are very witty, sir," the stranger said, bowing ironically to his opponent.
The latter was offended by this sudden attack, and smote the table with his fist.
"Here is your history in two words, sir," he said. "You are an Andalusian, born at Malaga, a younger son, and consequently destined to take orders. One fine day, not feeling any liking for the tonsure, you fled from the paternal roof and embarked on a Spanish vessel bound for Hispaniola. Your name is Don Antonio de la Ronda. You see, sir, that up to this point I am well informed, am I not?"
"Pray go on, sir," the stranger replied, with perfect coolness; "your remarks are most interesting." Montbarts shrugged his shoulders, and went on.
"On arriving at Hispaniola, you contrived, in a short time, thanks to your good looks and polished manners, to secure powerful protectors; and thus, though you only left Europe three years ago, you have made such rapid progress, that you are at present one of the most influential men in the colony. Unluckily—"
"Do you say unluckily?" the stranger interrupted with a jeering smile.
"Yes, sir," the adventurer replied imperturbably; "unluckily your fortune turned your head so thoroughly—"
"So thoroughly?"
"That in defiance of your friends, you were arrested and threatened with a trial for embezzling a sum of nearly two million piastres; a noble amount, on which I compliment you. Any other man but you, sir, I feel a pleasure in allowing the fact, would have been ruined, or nearly so, as the case was very serious; and the Council of the Indies does not joke on money matters."
"Permit me to interrupt you, my dear sir," the stranger said with the most perfect ease; "you are telling this story in a very talented manner, but if you go on so, it threatens to last indefinitely. If you permit it, I will finish it in a few words."
"Ah! Ah! Then you allow its truth now?"
"Of course," the stranger said with admirable coolness.
"You acknowledge yourself to be Don Antonio de la Ronda?"
"Why should I deny it longer, when you are so well informed?"
"Better still; so that you confess to fraudulently entering the colony for the object of—"
"I confess anything you like," the Spaniard said quickly.
"Well, that being well established, you deserve to be hung, and you will be so in a few minutes."
"Well, no," he replied without losing any of his coolness; "that is where we differ essentially in opinion, sir, your conclusion is not in the least logical."
"What?" the adventurer exclaimed, surprised at this sudden change of humour which he did not expect.
"I said that your conclusion was not logical."
"I heard you perfectly."
"And I am going to prove it," he continued; "grant me in your turn a few moments' attention."
"Very good; we must be merciful to those who are about to die."
"You are very kind; but thank Heaven I am not there yet. There's many a slip between the cup and the lip, as a very sensible proverb says."
"Go on," the filibuster said with an ominous smile.
But the Spaniard was not affected.
"It is evident to me, sir, that you have some business or bargain to propose to me."
"I?"
"Certainly, and for this reason; having recognized me as a spy, for I must allow that I am really one (you see that I am frank in my confession), nothing was easier for you than to have me strung up to the nearest tree, without any form of trial."
"Yes, but I am going to do so."
"No, you will not do it now, and for this reason. You believe for reasons I am ignorant of, for I will not insult you by supposing that you had a feeling of pity for me, you who are so justly called by my countrymen the Exterminator—you believe, I say, that I can serve you, be useful to you in the success of one of your plans; consequently instead of having me hanged, as you would have done under any other circumstances, you came straight to find me here, where I fancied myself well hidden, in order to converse with me, like one friend with another. Well, I ask for nothing better, come, speak, I am listening; what do you want of me?"
And after uttering these words with the most easy air he could assume, Don Antonio threw himself back in his chair delicately rolling a cigarette between his fingers.
The filibuster gazed for a moment at the Spaniard with a surprise which he did not attempt to conceal, and then burst into a laugh.
"That will do," he said, "I prefer that; at least there will be no misunderstanding between us. Yes, you have guessed correctly, I have a proposal to make to you."
"That was not difficult to discover, sir; and pray what is the nature of the proposal?"
"Well, it is very simple, I only require you to act exactly in the opposite way to what you intended, to change sides, in short."
"Very good, I understand, that is to say, instead of betraying you for the advantage of Spain, I am to betray Spain for your profit."
"Yes, you see it is easy."
"Very easy, in fact, but decidedly shabby; and supposing that I consent to your request, what advantage shall I derive from it?"
"In the first place I need hardly say that you will not be hung."
"Pooh! To die by hanging, drowning, or a musket ball, is always much the same thing. I should desire a more distinct benefit, with your leave."
"Confound it, you are difficult to satisfy, then it is nothing to save one's neck from a slip knot?"
"My dear sir, when, as in my case, a man has nothing to lose and consequently everything to gain by any change in his position, death is rather a comfort than a calamity."
"You are a philosopher, so it seems."
"No, confound it! such absurdity never troubled me, I am merely a desperate man."
"That is often the same thing; but let us return to our matter."
"Yes, that will be better."
"Well! I offer you my whole share of the first ship I take; does that suit you?"
"That is something better; but unluckily the ship to which you refer is like the bear in the fable, not caught yet; I should prefer something more substantial."
"Well, I see I must yield to you; serve me well and I will reward you so generously that the King of Spain himself could not do more."
"Well, that is agreed, I'll run the risk; now be kind enough to tell me the nature of the service you expect from me?"
"I wish you to help me in taking by surprise Tortoise Island, where you lived for a long time, and where, if I do not err, you still have friends."
"I see no inconvenience in trying that, although I will begin by making my reservations."
"What are they?"
"That I do not pledge myself to insure the success of your hazardous undertaking."
"That remark is fair, but do not alarm yourself, if the Island is well defended, it shall be well attacked."
"I am convinced; now for the next matter."
"I will let you know it when the time arrives, señor; for the present, other business engages our attention."
"As you please, sir, you will be the best judge of the opportunity."
"Now, sir, as I had the honour of telling you at the outset, since I know you to be a very sharp hand, and very capable of slipping through my fingers like an eel, without the slightest scruple, and as I wish to avoid that eventuality, and save you any notion of the sort, you will do me the pleasure of going at once aboard my lugger."
"A prisoner!" the Spaniard said with a gesture of ill humour.
"Not as a prisoner, my dear Don Antonio, but regarded as a hostage, and treated as such, that is to say, with all the attention compatible with our common security."
"Still, the word of a gentleman—"
"Is valued between gentlemen, I allow, but with usLadrones, as you call us, it has no value in my opinion; you hidalgos of old Spain, even make it a case of conscience to violate it without the slightest scruple, when your interest invites you to do so."
Don Antonio hung his head; recognizing in his heart, though unwilling to allow it, the exact truth, of the filibuster's words.
The latter enjoyed for a moment the Spaniard's discomfiture, and then rapped the table twice or thrice with the handle of his knife.
The captain's engagé at once entered the room.
"What do you want of me, Montbarts?" he asked.
"Tell me, my good fellow," the adventurer asked, "have you not seen a red Carib prowling round this house?"
"Pardon me, Montbarts, a Carib asked me only a moment ago, whether you were here, and I answered in the affirmative, but I did not like to transgress the orders I had received from you, and allow him to enter as he desired."
"Very good. Did not the man mention his name?"
"On the contrary, that was the very first thing he did; it is Omopoua."
"The very man I was expecting; tell him to come in, pray, for he is sure to be hanging about the door; and come with him."
The engagé went out.
"What do you want with this man?" the Spaniard asked with a shade of anxiety, which did not escape the adventurer's sharp eye.
"This Indian is simply intended to be your guard of honour," he said.
"Hum! It really seems as if you are anxious to keep me."
"Extremely so, señor."
At this moment, the engagé returned followed by the Carib, who had made no change in his primitive costume; but had taken advantage of Montbarts' permission to arm himself to the teeth.
"Omopoua and you, my friend, listen attentively to what I am going to say to you; you see this man?" he said pointing to the Spaniard who was still perfectly impassive.
"We see him," they answered.
"You will take him on board the lugger and hand him over to my mate, Michael the Basque, recommending him to watch over his guest most attentively! If, during the passage from here to the vessel, this man attempts to take to flight, blow out his brains without mercy. Have you understood me thoroughly?"
"Yes," said the engagé, "trust to us, we answer for him with our heads."
"That is well, I accept your word; and now, sir," he added, addressing Don Antonio, "be good enough to follow these two men."
"I yield to force, sir."
"Very good, that is how I regard the matter, but reassure yourself, your captivity will be neither harsh nor long, and I shall keep the promises I have made you, if you keep yours. Now, go and farewell for the present."
The Spaniard, without replying, placed himself between his two keepers voluntarily and left the room.
Montbarts remained alone.
A moment after Montbarts rose, put on his cloak, which he had thrown on a chair when he came in, and prepared to quit the house.
On the threshold he found himself face to face with Captain Drake.
"Ah," said the latter, "here you are."
"Yes! I have been breakfasting at your house."
"You did well."
"Will you accompany me to the sale?"
"I do not want any hired man."
"Nor I, but you know the enlistment will commence immediately afterwards."
"That is true; let me say a word first to my engagé, and I will follow you."
"He has gone out."
"Why! I ordered him not to leave the house."
"I have given him a commission."
"Oh! That is different."
"You do not ask me what the commission is I have given your engagé," Montbarts remarked a moment later.
"Why should I? It does not concern me, I suppose."
"More than you imagine, brother."
"Nonsense, how so?"
"You offered hospitality to a stranger, did you not?"
"Yes, but what of that?"
"You shall see. This stranger, whom you do not know, for of course you do not—"
"No more than Adam; what do I care who he is? hospitality is one of those things which cannot be refused."
"That is true, but I recognized the man."
"Ah, ah, and who is he then?"
"Nothing less than a Spanish spy, brother."
"My God!" the captain said, stopping dead short.
"What is the matter with you now?"
"Nothing, nothing, except that I will go and blow out his brains, unless you have done so already."
"Pray, do nothing of the sort; this man, I feel convinced, brother, will prove very useful to us."
"Nonsense, how so?"
"Leave me to act; if we manage properly, we may draw profit even from a Spanish spy; in the meanwhile, I have had him taken on board the lugger by your engagé, and a man of my own, where he will be watched so that he cannot part company."
"I trust to you for that, and thank you, brother, for having freed me from the scoundrel."
While talking thus, the two men arrived at the spot where the sale of the engagés to the colonists was to take place.
On the right of the square was a spacious shed, built of clumsily planed planks, and open to the wind and rain; in the centre of the shed was a table for the officials and secretaries of the company, who had to manage the sale and draw up the contracts; an easy chair had been set apart for the governor, by the side of a rather lofty platform, on which each engagé, male or female, mounted in turn, so that the purchasers might examine them at their ease.
These wretches, deceived by the company's agents in Europe, had contracted engagements, whose consequences they did not at all understand, and were convinced that, on their arrival in America, with the exception of a certain tax they had to pay the company for a certain period, they would be completely free to earn their livelihood as they thought proper. The majority were carpenters, masons and bricklayers, but there were also among them ruined gentlemen and libertines who detest work and who imagined that in America, the country of gold, fortune would visit them while they slept.
A company's ship had arrived a few days previously and brought one hundred and fifty engagés, among them were several young and pretty women, thoroughly vitiated, however, and who, like the Manon Lescault of the Abbé Prevost, had been picked up by the police in the streets of Paris, and shipped off without further formality.
These women were also sold to the colonists, not apparently as slaves, but as wives.
These unions contracted in the gipsy fashion, were only intended to last a settled time which must not exceed seven years, unless with the mutual consent of the couple, though the clause was hardly ever appealed to by them; at the end of that time they separated, and each was set at liberty to form a fresh union.
The engagés had been landed two days before; these two days had been granted them, that they might slightly recover from the fatigue of a long sea voyage, walk about and breathe the reviving land breeze, of which they had so long been deprived.
At the moment when the two adventurers arrived, the sale had been going on for half an hour; the shed was crowded with colonists who desired to purchase slaves, for we are compelled to use that odious term, for the poor creatures were nothing else.
At the sight of Montbarts, however, whose name was justly celebrated, a passage was opened, and he thus succeeded in reaching the side of the governor, Chevalier de Fontenay, round whom the most renowned adventurers were collected, among them being Michael the Basque.
Monsieur de Fontenay received Montbarts with distinction; he even rose from his chair and walked two or three steps to meet him, which the filibusters considered in very good taste, and felt grateful to him for it; this honour paid to the most celebrated among them cast a reflection on them all.
After exchanging a few compliments with the governor, Montbarts bent down to Michael's ear.
"Well, mate?" he said to him.
"The Spaniard is aboard," Michael replied, "and carefully watched by Bowline."
"In that case I can be at my ease?"
"Perfectly."
During this aside, the sale had been going on.
All the male engagés had been sold, with the exception of one who was standing at this moment on the platform, by the side of a company's agent, who acted as auctioneer, and praised the qualities of the human merchandise he offered.
This engagé was a short, stout, powerfully built man, from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, with harsh, energetic, but intelligent features, whose grey eyes sparkled with audacity and good humour.
"Pierre Nau, native of the sands of Olonne," said the company's agent, "twenty-five years of age, powerful and in good health, a sailor. Who'll say forty crowns for the Olonnais, forty crowns for three years, gentlemen."
"Come, come," said the engagé, "if the person who buys me is a man, he will have a good bargain."
"Going for forty crowns," the company's agent repeated, "forty crowns, gentlemen."
Montbarts turned to the engagé.
"What, you scoundrel," he said to him, "you a sailor and sell yourself instead of joining us? You have no pluck."
The Olonnais began laughing.
"You know nothing about it. I have sold myself, because I must do so," he answered, "so that my mother may be able to live during my absence."
"How so?"
"How does it concern you? You are not my master, and even if you were, you would have no right to inquire into my private affairs."
"You seem to me a bold fellow," Montbarts remarked.
"Indeed, I believe I am; besides, I wish to become an adventurer like you fellows, and for that purpose I must serve my apprenticeship to the trade."
"Going for forty crowns," cried the agent.
Montbarts examined with the most serious attention the engagé, whose firm glance he could hardly manage to quell; then, doubtless satisfied with his triumph, he turned to the agent.
"That will do," he said, "hold your row: I buy this man."
"The Olonnais is adjudged to Montbarts the exterminator, for forty crowns," the agent said.
"Here they are," the adventurer answered as he threw a handful of silver on the table; "now come," he ordered the Olonnais, "you are now my engagé."
The latter leapt joyously off the platform and ran up to him.
"So you are Montbarts the exterminator?" he asked him curiously.
"I think you are questioning me," the adventurer said with a laugh, "still, as your question appears to me very natural, I will answer it this time; yes, I am Montbarts."
"In that case I thank you for buying me, Montbarts; with you I am certain soon to become a man."
And at a sign from his new master, he respectfully placed himself behind him.
The most curious part of the sale for the adventurers then began, that is to say, the sale of the women.
The poor wretches, mostly young and pretty, mounted the platform trembling, and in spite of their efforts to keep a good countenance, they blushed with shame, and burning tears ran down their cheeks on seeing themselves thus exposed before all these men, whose flashing eyes were fixed upon them.
The company made its greatest profit by the women, and it was the more easy to realise, because they were got for nothing, and sold at the highest possible figure.
The men were generally knocked down at a price varying from thirty to forty dollars, but never went beyond that; with the women it was different, they were put up to auction, and the governor alone had the right to stop the sale, when the price appeared to him sufficiently high. These women were always sold amid cries, shouts and coarse jests, generally addressed to the adventurers who did not fear running the risk of venturing on the shoal-beset ocean of marriage.
Belle Tête, that furious adventurer to whom we have already referred, and whom we saw at the meeting at the hatto, had, as he had resolved, purchased two engagés to take the place of the two who had died, so he said, of indolence, but, in reality of the blows he dealt them; then, instead of returning home he had confided the engagés to his overseer; for the adventurers, like the slave owners, had overseers, whose duty it was to make the white slaves toil; and the adventurer remained in the shed watching the sale of the women with the most lively interest.
His friends did not fail to cut jokes at his expense, but he contented himself with shrugging his shoulders disdainfully, and stood with his hands crossed on the muzzle of his long fusil, and with his eyes obstinately fixed on the platform.
A young woman had just taken her place there in her turn; she was a frail delicate girl, with light curling hair that fell on her white rather thin chest. Her smooth and pensive forehead, her large blue eyes full of tears, her fresh cheeks, her little mouth, made her appear much younger than she in reality was; she was eighteen years of age, and her delicate waist, her well-turned lips, her decent appearance, in short everything about her delicious person had a seductive charm, which formed a complete contrast with the decided air and vulgar manners of the women who had preceded her on the platform, and those who would follow her.
"Louise, born at Montmartre, aged eighteen years; who will marry her for three years, at the price of fifteen crowns?" the company's agent asked in his sarcastic voice.
The poor girl buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly.
"Twenty crowns for Louise," an adventurer shouted, drawing nearer.
"Twenty-five," another said immediately.
"Make her hold her head up so that we can have a look at her," a third cried brutally.
"Come, little one," the agent said, as he obliged her to remove her hands from her face; "be polite and let them look at you, it is for your own good, hang it all! Twenty-five crowns."