The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

"Had you given me nothing, sir," La Grenade replied, as he took the money, "it would not have prevented me from serving you with all the zeal of which I am capable, and if I receive these three louis, it is only because a poor devil like me has no right to refuse a present from so generous a gentleman as you. But, I repeat, sir, I am quite at your service, and you can employ me in whatever way you please."

"Goodness!" the Count said, in surprise; "and yet I do not know you, as far as I am aware, La Grenade – whence, may I ask, comes this great devotion to my person?"

"I am most willing to tell you, sir, if it interests you. I am a friend of M. François Bouillot, to whom I am under certain obligations; he ordered me to serve and obey you in everything."

"That good Bouillot," said the Count. "Very well, my friend, I shall not be ungrateful. I do not want you anymore at present."

The gaoler put some logs on the fire, lit the lamp, and withdrew.

"Well," said the Count, with a laugh, "Heaven forgive me! I believe that, though a prisoner in appearance, I am as much master of this castle as the governor, and that I can leave it without opposition on any day I like. What would the Cardinal think if he knew how his orders were executed?"

He sat down to table, unfolded his napkin, and began dining with a good appetite.

Things went on thus, in the way agreed on between the Governor and his prisoner.

The arrival of Count de Barmont at the fortress had been a windfall for the Major, who, since he had received from the royal munificence the command of this castle as retiring pension, had not once before had an opportunity to derive any profit from the position that had been given him. Hence he promised to make a gold mine of his solitary prisoner; for the Isle of St. Marguerite, as we have already remarked, had not yet acquired the reputation which it merited at a later date as a State prison.

The Count's room was furnished as well as it could be; everything he demanded in the shape of books was procured him, though he had to pay dearly for them, and he was even allowed to walk on the towers.

The Count was happy – so far, at least, as the circumstances in which he found himself allowed him to be so: no one would have supposed, on seeing him work so assiduously at mathematics and navigation, for he applied himself most seriously to the completion of his maritime education, that this man nourished in his heart a thought of implacable vengeance, and that this thought was ever present to him.

At the first blush, the resolution formed by the Count to allow himself to be incarcerated, while it was easy for him to remain free, may seem strange: but the Count was one of those men of granite whose thoughts are immutable, and who, when they have once formed a resolution, after calculating with the utmost coolness all the chances for and against, follow the road they have laid down for themselves, ever marching in a straight line without caring for the obstacles that arise at each step on their path and surmounting them, because they decided from the first that they would do so – characters that grow and are perfected in the struggle, and sooner or later reach the goal they have designed.

The Count understood that any resistance to the Cardinal would result in his own utter ruin; and there was no lack of proofs to support this reasoning: by escaping from the guards who were taking him to prison, he would remain at liberty, it is true, but he would be exiled, obliged to quit France, and wander about in foreign parts alone, isolated, without resources, ever on the watch, forced to hide himself, and reduced to the impossibility of asking, that is to say, of obtaining the necessary information he required to avenge himself on the man who, by robbing him of the wife he loved, had at the same blow not only destroyed his career and fortune, but also eternally ruined his happiness.

He was young, and could wait; vengeance is eaten cold, say the southerners – and the Count came from Languedoc. Besides, as he had said to Bouillot, in a moment of expansiveness, he wished to suffer, in order to kill within him every human feeling that still existed, and to find himself one day armed cap-à-pie to face his enemy.

Cardinal Richelieu and Louis XIII. were both seriously ill. Their death would not fail to produce a change of reign in two, three, or four years at the most, and that catastrophe would arrive, one of whose consequences it is to produce a reaction, and consequently, to open to all the prisoners of the defunct Cardinal the dungeons to which he had condemned them.

The Count was twenty-five years of age: hence time was his own, and the more so because, when restored to liberty, he would enter on all his rights, and as an enemy of Richelieu, be favourably regarded at Court, and, through the temporary credit he would enjoy, be in a condition to regain all the advantage he had lost as concerned his foe.

Only energetically endowed men, who are sure of themselves, are capable of making such calculations, and obstinately pursuing a line of conduct so opposed to all logical combinations; but these men who thus resolutely enlist chance on their side, and reckon on it as a partner, always succeed in what they purpose doing, unless death suddenly cuts them short.

Through the intercession of La Grenade, and the tacit connivance of the Governor, who closed his eyes with a charming inattention, the Count was not only cognizant with all that was going on outside, but also received letters from his friends, which he answered.

One day, after reading a letter which la Grenade had given him when bringing in breakfast, a letter from the Duc de Bellegarde, which had reached him through Michael, for the worthy sailor had refused to leave his Commandant, and had turned fisherman at Antibes, with Bowline as his assistant, the Count sent a message to the Governor, requesting a few minutes' conversation with him.

The Major knew that every visit he paid his prisoner was a profit to him, hence he hastened to his room.

"Have you heard the news, sir?" the Count said at once on seeing him.

"What news, my lord?" the Major asked, in amazement, for he knew nothing.

In fact, placed as he was at the extreme frontier of the kingdom, news, no matter its importance, only reached him, so to speak, by accident.

"The Cardinal Minister is dead, sir. I have just learned it from a sure hand."

"Oh!" said the Major, clasping his hands, for this death might cause him the loss of his place.

"And," the Count added, coldly, "His Majesty King Louis XIII. is at death's door."

"Great heaven, what a misfortune!" exclaimed the Governor.

"This misfortune may be fortunate for you, sir," the Count resumed.

"Fortunate! When I am menaced with the loss of my command! Alas, my lord, what will become of me if I am turned out of here?"

"That might easily, happen," said the Count. "You have, sir, always been a great friend of the defunct Cardinal, and known as such."

"That is, unhappily, too true," the Major muttered, quite out of countenance, and recognizing the truth of this affirmation.

"There is, I think, an advantageous mode of arranging matters."

"What is it, my lord? Speak, I implore you!"

"It is this: listen to me carefully – what I am going to say is very serious for you."

"I am listening, my lord."

"Here is a letter all ready written for the Duc de Bellegarde. You will start at once for Paris, passing through Toulon, where you will cash this draft for 2000 livres, to cover your expenses. The Duke is sincerely attached to me. For my sake he will receive you kindly: you will come to an understanding with him, and obey him in everything he orders."

"Yes, yes, my lord."

"And if within a month from this time at the latest – "

"From this time at the latest – " the Governor repeated, panting with impatience.

"You bring me here my full and entire – pardon, signed by H. M. Louis XIII. – "

"What?" the Governor exclaimed, with a start of surprise.

"I will at once pay you," the Count continued, coldly, "the sum of 50,000 livres, to indemnify you for the loss my liberation must entail on you."

"Fifty thousand livres!" the Major exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with greed.

"Fifty thousand! yes, sir," the Count replied. "And, besides, I pledge myself, if you wish it, to get you confirmed in your command. Is this matter settled?"

"But, my lord, how am I to manage at Paris?"

"Follow the instructions the Duc de Bellegarde will give you."

"What you ask of me is very difficult."

"Not so difficult as you pretend to believe, sir; however, if this mission does not suit you – "

"I did not say that, sir."

"In a word, you can take it or leave it."