Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  One thing embarrassed Croustillac — how could the widow have informed herself of his life so completely? But he remembered, with some exceptions, that he had not made any mystery of the greater part of the antecedents of his life on board the Unicorn, and that the business manager of Blue Beard’s affairs at St. Pierre might have discussed the passengers with Captain Daniel. Finally, with a wisdom and good sense which did credit to the new feeling which animated him, Croustillac put these two cases to himself: Either Blue Beard wished to amuse herself, and that night would say to him frankly, “Sir, you have been an impertinent meddler; blinded by vanity, urged on by cupidity, you have made a wager that you would become my husband in a month’s time; I have wished to torment you a little, and to play the ferocious part accredited to me; the buccaneer, the filibuster, and the Caribbean are my three servants in whom I have entire confidence; and as I live alone in a very isolated locality, each of them comes by turn to watch at night. Knowing the absurd stories afloat, I wished to amuse myself at the expense of your credulity; this morning, even, I saw from the end of the walk that you were spying upon me, and the comedy of the poisonous apple was arranged with Youmäale; as for the kiss he placed upon my forehead” — here the chevalier was embarrassed for a moment as to how to excuse this part of the rôle which he supposed played by the widow; but he solved the question by saying to himself that, according to Caribbean customs, this familiarity was, doubtless, not considered strange.

  The chevalier felt that he must be satisfied with this explanation; and to do him justice (a little late, in truth) he would renounce his mad hopes, beg the widow to forget the conduct of which he had been guilty, kiss her hand and ask her to furnish him with a guide, resume his poor old garments, of faded green, and pink stockings, and return to a happier fate which awaited him in the cabin of the Unicorn’s worthy captain.

  If, on the contrary, the widow had serious views in regard to the chevalier (which he found some difficulty in admitting to himself, although he was not blind to his own merit), he would repay her with the happiness of his life; he would charge himself personally with protecting his wife, and banish the buccaneer to his trading-station, the Caribbean to his hut, and the filibuster to his occupation; at least, if the widow did not prefer to return with him to France to live there.

  We must say to the honor of poor Croustillac that he hardly dwelt upon this last hope; he considered his first interpretation of the conduct of the widow as much more probable. Finally, by a natural reaction, of mind over matter, the triumphant boasting of the chevalier ceased at the same time with his conceit. His face was no longer distorted by grotesque vanity; for it expressed the better qualities of the chevalier — resolution, courage — we would add loyalty, for it was impossible to add more frankness to his conceit than was to be found in the Gascon.

  While the Chevalier de Croustillac waited with impatience the night of this day which promised to be so fertile in developments, because Blue Beard intended to signify her final intention, let us conduct the reader to Fort Royal, at Martinique, the principal port of the island, where the governor resided the greater portion of the time. There had transpired a new incident which demands our immediate notice.

  The shipyard at St. Pierre, where the Unicorn had touched, was intended for the anchorage of merchant vessels, just as the shipyard at Fort Royal was for ships-of-war.

  About the same time that Youmäale was walking with Blue Beard, the lookout above the governor’s house (at Fort Royal) signaled a French frigate; the watch sent his assistant to inform the officer of artillery commanding the battery at the fort, in order that he might fire a salute (as was the custom) to the king’s flag, (the custom being to fire a salute of ten guns from all the ships-of-war when they came to anchor). To the great surprise of the lookout who repented then of having dispatched his assistant to the sergeant, he saw the frigate heave to, outside the roadstead, and lower a boat; this boat was propelled through the waves to the entrance of the port, while the frigate rode at anchor and waited for it.

  This proceeding was so strange that the lookout reported to the captain of the Governor’s Guards, and related to him what had occurred, to the end that he could countermand the salute from the fort. This order given, the captain went at once to inform the governor of this singular evolution on the frigate’s part.

  An hour later, the boat belonging to the French ship arrived at Fort Royal, and landed a person dressed like a man of some rank, who was accompanied by the lieutenant of the frigate. They went at once to the house of the governor, Baron de Rupinelle.

  The officer gave a letter from the captain commanding the Fulminante to the baron. His vessel was under orders to wait the result of the mission with which Monsieur de Chemerant was charged, and to depart at once. They had hastily taken on some fresh victuals and fresh water for the men on board. The lieutenant went out to attend to matters pertaining to reprovisioning the frigate, and Monsieur de Chemerant and the governor were alone.

  Monsieur de Chemerant was a man of from forty-five to fifty years, of a dark olive complexion which gave to his sea-green eyes an added charm; he wore a black peruke and a brown coat trimmed with gold braid. His features were intellectual, his words few, his eye piercing; his mouth, or rather his lips, were altogether too thin and compressed to ever smile; if he occasionally gave vent to sarcasm upon what had happened, his face became still more serious than usual. He had also very polished manners and showed his familiarity with the best society. His courage, discretion and coolness were such that Monsieur de Louvois had already frequently employed him in missions of the greatest difficulty and danger.

  Monsieur de Chemerant afforded a striking contrast to the governor, Baron de Rupinelle, a large and indolent man, having but one care, that of keeping cool; his face was gross, purple and full; his eyes, unusually round, gave him a look of perpetual surprise. The baron, honest and brave, but a perfect nonentity, owed his position to the powerful influence of the Colbert family to which he was related through his mother.

  In order to receive the lieutenant of the frigate, and Monsieur de Chemerant with proper courtesy, the baron had removed, much to his regret, a white cotton coat and a hat of Caribbean straw to put on an enormous blond wig, squeeze into a coat of a kind of blue uniform embroidered with gold braid, and buckled on a heavy shoulder-belt and sword. The heat was intense, and the governor anathematized the etiquette of which he was the victim.

  “Sir,” said De Chemerant, who seemed perfectly indifferent to this tropical temperature, “can we speak without fear of being overheard?”

  “There is no danger on that score, sir; this door opens into my study where there is no one, and that one into the gallery which is also unoccupied.”

  Monsieur de Chemerant arose, looked into the two places, and carefully shut both doors.

  “Pardon, sir,” said the governor, “if we remain here with only two windows open — —”

  “You are right, baron,” said De Chemerant, interrupting the governor and shutting the windows with equal care, “that is more prudent; we might be heard from the outside.”

  “But, sir, if we remain without a current of air we shall suffocate here. It will become a perfect oven.”

  “That which I have the honor to say to you, sir, will not take long; but it concerns a state secret of the greatest importance, and the slightest indiscretion may jeopardize the success of the mission which has been confided to me by the king’s command. You must accord me, then, the privilege of shutting ourselves in here until the close of our interview.”

  “If it is the king’s orders, I must submit, sir,” said De Rupinelle, with a heavy sigh and wiping his forehead. “I am entirely at your service.”

  “Be so good as to cast your eye upon my credentials from his majesty,” said De Chemerant; and he took a paper from a little box which he bore with great care and never intrusted to any one.

  CHAPTER XV.

  THE ENVOY FROM FRANCE.

  WHILE
THE GOVERNOR read his dispatch De Chemerant looked with a satisfied air at an object within his box and said to himself, “If I have occasion to use it, this will be perfect; my idea is excellent.”

  “This order, sir, is regular; I must execute all the commands you give me,” said the governor, looking at his visitor with profound astonishment. Then he continued, “It is so very warm, sir, that I must ask your permission to remove my wig, in spite of proprieties.”

  “Make yourself comfortable, sir, make yourself comfortable, I beg of you.”

  The governor threw his wig on the table and seemed to breathe more easily.

  “And now, baron, be so good as to reply to a number of questions which I have the honor to put to you.” And De Chemerant took from his little box some notes wherein was stated, doubtless, what he wished to ask the governor.

  “There is, not far from the parish of Macouba, in the midst of woods and rocks, a kind of fortified mansion called Devil’s Cliff?”

  “Yes, sir, and this same house does not bear a very good name. Chevalier de Crussol, my predecessor, made a visit to the place to learn what foundation there was for these rumors, but I have searched in vain for papers bearing upon this subject among his correspondence.”

  Monsieur de Chemerant continued: “This house is occupied by a woman — a widow, baron?”

  “So thoroughly a widow, sir, that she has been surnamed in the country Blue Beard, because of the rapidity with which she has successively made way with the three husbands she has had. Might I venture to say that this cravat in stifling me, sir?” added the unhappy governor; “we do not usually wear them here, and if you will permit me — —”

  “Take it off, sir, the service of the king will not suffer thereby. Chevalier de Crussol, your predecessor, you say, began an investigation on the subject of the disappearance of the three husbands of this Blue Beard?”

  “So they told me, sir, but I have never found any trace of this investigation.”

  “Commander de Saint-Simon, who fulfilled the duties of governor after the death of De Crussol, and before your arrival here, did not deliver to you, baron, a confidential letter written by De Crussol?”

  “Yes — yes, sir,” said the governor, looking at De Chemerant with profound astonishment.

  “This letter was written by De Crussol a short time previous to his death?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This letter relates to the inhabitant of Devil’s Cliff; is this not true, baron?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the governor, more and more surprised to find De Chemerant so well informed.

  “Monsieur de Crussol assured you in this letter, upon his honor, that this woman called Blue Beard was innocent of the crimes imputed to her?”

  “Yes, sir, but how can you know?”

  Monsieur de Chemerant interrupted the governor and said, “Allow me to say, sir, that the king ordered me to make inquiries of you, and not replies. I have the honor to ask of you if, in this letter, the deceased, De Crussol, did not vouch for the entire innocence of the widow surnamed Blue Beard?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “He affirmed to you, on the faith of a Christian, and at the moment when he was about to appear before his God, also on his word as a gentleman, that you could, without prejudice to the service of the king, leave this woman at liberty and in peace?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “And that, finally, the Reverend Father Griffen, a man of well-known piety and the most honorable character, would be further surety for this woman, if you demanded it of him?”

  “Yes, sir, and, in truth, in a confidential interview, very special and very secret — —”

  “Which you had with Father Griffen, baron, this religious man confirmed to you what De Crussol had stated in his last letter, and you made him, in form, a promise not to disturb the aforesaid widow?”

  The governor, unable to fathom his being so well informed, gazed at De Chemerant in bewilderment. The kind of emotion which this examination, joined to the oppressiveness of the air, occasioned, was choking the baron. After a short pause he said resolutely to De Chemerant, “Faith, sir, one must accommodate oneself to one’s situation. I must ask permission to take off my coat. This trimming of gold and silver weighs a hundred pounds, I believe.”

  “Take it off, take it off, baron; the coat does not make the governor,” he said gravely, with a bow; then he continued: “Thanks to the advice of De Crussol and the Reverend Father Griffen, the dweller at Devil’s Cliff has not been disturbed, baron? You have not visited the place, in spite of the strange stories about it?”

  “No, sir, I assure you, the recommendation of the persons so respectable as Father Griffen and the deceased De Crussol were sufficient. And then the road to Devil’s Cliff is impassable; the rocks bare and rent; it takes two or three hours to climb them; and faith, I assure you, sir, to make such a journey under the sun of the tropics,” said the baron, wiping his forehead, which was perspiring at the mere thought of such a climb, “appears to me entirely inadvisable, because, morally, I am convinced that the aforesaid stories have no foundation, and I think in that I am not wrong.”

  “Allow me, baron, to ask you some further questions.”

  “At your service, sir.”

  “The woman called Blue Beard has a counting house at St. Pierre?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Her business man is empowered to send out her vessels which are always destined for France?”

  “That, sir, is very easily verified in the clearing books of the captains.

  “And these registers?”

  “Are there in that case.”

  “Will you take the trouble to look them over, baron, and to select from them some dates which I was going to ask of you?”

  The governor arose, mounted painfully on a chair, and took down a large volume bound in green leather, placing it on his desk; then, as if this exertion had redoubled the heat he was suffering from and exhausted his strength, he said to De Chemerant: “Sir, you have been, doubtless, a soldier; you can understand that we live a little carelessly; for, without further parley and asking pardon for the great liberty, I will remove my vest, if you please; it is embroidered in cloth and as heavy as a cuirass.”

  “Take it off — take off everything that you wish to,” replied De Chemerant with impervious gravity; “there is so little left for me to say to you that I trust you will not need to remove more of your apparel. Can you feel assured, other than from these facts, that the vessels loaded with cargoes by our widow have always been sent to France?”

  “Yes, sir,” replied the governor, opening his register; then, following with the end of his finger the tables, he read, “‘For Rochelle, for Rochelle, for Bordeaux, for Bordeaux, for Rochelle, for Rochelle, for Havre de Grace.’ You see, sir, the vessels have always sailed for France.”

  “That is well, baron. According to the direction, frequent enough, of vessels of commerce, which leave the counting-house wharves, it follows that Blue Beard (we will adopt the popular surname) can put a vessel to sea very quickly.”

  “Doubtless, sir.”

  “Has she not a brigantine always ready to put to sea, and which can in two hours be at the Creek of Caymans, not far from Devil’s Cliff, where there is a little harbor,” said De Chemerant, consulting his notes once more.

  “Yes, sir; this brigantine is called the Chameleon; Blue Beard recently placed it, very generously, at my service (through the mediation of Monsieur Morris, her man of business), to give chase to a Spanish pirate, and there is an old filibuster of a captain called Hurricane, who commands the vessel — —”

  “We will speak of this filibuster later, sir, but this pirate — —”

  “Was sunk in the Rivière des Saints.”

  “To return to this filibuster, baron; he frequents the house of Blue Beard?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “As much so as another bad fellow, a buccaneer by trade?”

  “Yes, sir,” said the baron
in a dry tone, resolved to confine himself to the secondary rôle which De Chemerant imposed upon him.

  “A Caribbean also is often there?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The presence of these men in the island is of how recent date?”

  “That I do not know, sir; they were established here at my arrival in Martinique. They say that the filibuster formerly pursued his calling on the north of the Antilles and the seas of the south. Like many captains who have made something by filibustering, he has bought here a little dwelling at the point of the island, where he lives alone.”

  “And the buccaneer, baron?”

  “This kind of person is here to-day, gone to-morrow, according to whether the hunt is more or less abundant; sometimes he remains away a month, and it is the same with the Caribbean.”

  “This information accords perfectly with that which was given me; beside, I do not speak of men of this sort other than by hearsay. They are far too unimportant, and too foreign to the mission which I am in charge of, to merit their occupying my attention for any length of time. They are, at most, passive instruments,” continued De Chemerant to himself, “and they are probably very indirectly connected with this grave matter.” Then, after a few minutes’ reflection, he said aloud, “Now, baron, one more question: have not your secret police notified you that the English have tried to introduce themselves into this island since the war?”

  “Twice, lately, sir, our cruisers have given chase to a suspicious vessel coming from the Barbadoes seeking to approach from the windward, the only places where one can land in the island; elsewhere the coast is too rugged to permit landing.”

  “Very good,” said De Chemerant. After a moment’s silence he said, “Tell me, baron, how long would it take to go to Devil’s Cliff?”

  “About eleven hours; the roads are difficult, one could not reach there before nightfall.”

  “Well, then, baron,” said De Chemerant, taking out his watch, “in two hours from now, that is to say, at one o’clock in the afternoon, you will have the goodness to order thirty of your most reliable guards to arm themselves, to provide themselves with scaling ladders, one or two bombs, and to hold themselves in readiness to follow and obey me as they would yourself.”