Collected Works of Eugène Sue

by Eugène Sue

  The unfortunate Croustillac did not understand English, but he understood the dagger’s point, and exclaimed, “Speak French!”

  “I can understand that your grace, having been brought up in France, should prefer that language,” replied Rutler, who believed that his Dutch accent made his words a little obscure, and he continued, “You must pardon me, my lord, if I do not express myself very well in French. I have the honor to inform your grace that at the slightest sound from you I shall be compelled to kill you. It depends upon you, my lord, to preserve your life or not, by preventing madame the duchess, your wife, from calling for aid if she returns.”

  “It is evident that he takes me for some one else,” thought the chevalier. “In what devil of a network am I entangled? What is this new mystery? and who is this brutal Dutchman with his eternal dagger and his ‘my lord duke?’ After all, it is gratifying not to be taken for an insignificant man. And Blue Beard is a duchess and passes for my wife!”

  “Listen, my lord,” said Rutler after some moments of silence, “for your grace’s greater convenience, I can free you from the cloak which enwraps you; but, I repeat, at the slightest cry from madame the duchess, the slightest indication of a rescue by your slaves, I shall be compelled to kill you. I have promised the king, my master, to bring you to him, dead or alive.”

  “I stifle! take off the cloak at once, I will not make any outcry,” murmured Croustillac, believing that the colonel would discover his error.

  Rutler removed the cloak which enveloped the face of the adventurer, who saw a man kneeling beside him and threatening him with a dagger. The night was clear; the chevalier could distinguish perfectly the features of the colonel; they were absolutely unknown to him.

  “My lord! remember your promise,” said Rutler, who did not evince the slightest surprise when the face of the adventurer was seen.

  “How! he does not perceive his mistake,” thought the astonished chevalier.

  “Meanwhile, my lord,” replied the colonel, assisting Croustillac to seat himself as comfortably as he could near the fountain, “meanwhile, my lord, pardon the rudeness of my attack, but I was forced to this.”

  Croustillac made no reply. Divided between fear and curiosity, he was burning to know to whom these words were addressed: ‘My lord duke.’ Naturally of an adventurous turn, he could not but be the gainer, doubtless by being taken for another, above all, for the husband of Blue Beard; and the chevalier resolved to play, as far as he could, the rôle which he had involuntarily assumed, hoping, possibly, to thus learn the secret of the dwellers of Devil’s Cliff. He answered, however, “Are you sure, sir, that it is I whom you are seeking?”

  “Your grace need not attempt to deceive me,” said Rutler. “It is true that I have not had the honor of seeing you before to-day, my lord; but I heard your conversation with madame the duchess. Who but you, my lord, would be walking with her at this hour? Who but you would be dressed in this coat with the red sleeve, as shown by James Syllon, who painted you in this costume?”

  “And I thought this costume so fantastic,” reflected Croustillac.

  “It is not for me to express surprise at finding you wearing these garments which must often recall memories so cruel,” continued Rutler, with a gloomy air.

  “Cruel memories!” repeated Croustillac.

  “My lord,” said the colonel, “two years before the fatal day of Bridgewater, dressed in this coat, did you not render homage to your royal father, when hunting at Lancaster?”

  “To my royal father? a falcon?” said the chevalier, astounded.

  “I understand your grace’s embarrassment, and that you do not wish to recall these sad disputes for which you have been so severely and, permit me to say it, my lord, so justly punished.”

  “I will permit you to say anything to me, sir, in fact, I earnestly insist upon it without delay,” replied the Gascon; and, aside, “perhaps I shall learn something in this way.”

  “Time is precious,” said Rutler. “I must hasten to inform your grace that I only await your submission to the commands of my master, William of Orange, King of England.”

  “Speak, sir, and do not hesitate to enter into the most minute details.”

  “In order to make you understand, your grace, what remains for me to exact from you, it is very necessary to establish clearly your position, my lord, however painful the duty may be.”

  “Establish it, sir, speak frankly; hold back nothing. We are men and soldiers; we should know how to hear all things.”

  “You acknowledge, then, that from this moment you cannot escape.”

  “That is true.”

  “That your life is in my hands.”

  “That is also true.”

  “But that, which must be a very great consideration, my lord, is that, in attempting to escape, or in refusing to obey the orders which I bear, you put me to the hard necessity of killing you.”

  “A hard necessity for both of us, sir.”

  “Then your grace will give strict attention to what I have to say,” said the colonel, emphasizing the following words: “I can with the more impunity kill you, my lord, because you are already dead — and therefore it would not be necessary to render an account for shedding your blood.”

  The chevalier looked at Rutler with a stupefied air, thinking he must have heard him wrong. “You say, sir, that you could with the more impunity kill me?”

  “Since your grace is already dead,” said Rutler, with a sinister smile.

  Croustillac looked at him more closely, believing he was dealing with a madman; then he said, after a moment’s silence, “If I understand you aright, sir, you wish to make me believe that you could kill me with impunity, under the pretext, specious enough, that I am already dead!”

  “Exactly, my lord; that is very simple.”

  “You think that very simple, sir?”

  “I do not think you wish to deny, my lord, what is known to all the world,” said Rutler impatiently.

  “It seems to me that, without wishing to pass for a man who has lost his head, and who is dominated with a desire to contradict the whole world, I must still to a certain extent deny that I am dead.”

  “I would not have believed, my lord, that you could jest at such a moment, you who always carry with you such frightful memories,” said the colonel, with gloomy surprise.

  “Certainly, sir, at such a moment one cannot forget himself. That which is more difficult is to retain memory,” said Croustillac, smiling.

  The colonel could not prevent a gesture of indignation, and cried, “You smile! when it is at the price of the noblest blood that you are here! Ah, such then will always be the gratitude of princes!”

  “I must say to you, sir,” impatiently replied Croustillac, “that it is not of gratitude or ingratitude that we speak in this matter, and that — but,” he continued, fearing to make some blunder, “but it seems to me that we wander strangely from the question at issue. I prefer to speak of something else.”

  “I can imagine that such a subject would be disagreeable to your grace.”

  “It is not a lively one, sir, certainly; but return to the motive which has brought you hither — what do you wish of me?”

  “I am ordered, my lord, to conduct you to the Barbadoes; from there you will be transported and incarcerated in the Tower of London, of which your grace has retained remembrance.”

  “Zounds! to prison!” said the Gascon to himself, to whom this prospect was not inviting; “to prison — in the Tower of London! I must inform this Dutch animal of his mistake; this mistaken identity no longer pleases me. The devil! to the Tower of London! this is paying for ‘your grace’ and ‘my lord’ rather too dearly!”

  “It is unnecessary for me to say to you, my lord, that you will be treated with the respect due to your misfortunes and your rank. Except for liberty, which can never be accorded you, you will be surrounded by care and consideration.”

  “After all,” thought Croustillac, “why sho
uld I hasten to dissuade this northern bear? I have no hope, alas, of interesting Blue Beard in my martyrdom. It seems to me that I perceive vaguely that the mistake of this Dutchman in my person may serve this adorable little creature. If that is so, I shall be delighted. Once having reached England, the mistake will be discovered and I set free; and, as it is best, after all, that I return to Europe, I should like better if it were possible, to return in the character of a great prince, a lord, than as a free passenger of Captain Daniel’s. I shall not at least be compelled to balance forks on the end of my nose nor be reduced to swallowing lighted candles.”

  The colonel, taking the Gascon’s silence for despair, said to him, in a gentler tone, “I suppose your grace perceives with pain the future before you. There is enough occasion for it, it seems to me.”

  “To be a prisoner always in the Tower of London?”

  “Yes, my lord; but you cannot enjoy much liberty here; perhaps this life of agony and continual unrest is not so much to be regretted?”

  “You wish to gild the pill, as they say, sir; your motive is praiseworthy; but you appear very certain of carrying me to Barbadoes, and from there to the Tower of London?”

  “To accomplish this, my lord, I had brought with me a most determined man. He is dead, however — a most frightful death.” And Rutler trembled in spite of himself at the remembrance of John’s death.

  “And so, sir, you were reduced to accomplish this expedition yourself?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “And you flatter yourself that you can carry me off, unaided?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “You are sure of that?”

  “Perfectly sure.”

  “And by means of what miracle?”

  “There is no need of a miracle; the thing is very simple, my lord.”

  “May I know it?”

  “You must be informed of it, my lord, because I count principally upon your assistance.”

  “To enable you to carry me off?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “The fact is, that, without vanity, I can, under these circumstances, if I mix myself in the matter, be of some help to you?”

  After a moment’s reflection, Rutler said, “Your firmness has not been exaggerated, your grace; it would be impossible to show a more resolute spirit or more coolness under ill fortune.”

  “I assure you, sir, that it would be difficult for me to bear it otherwise.”

  “If I have spoken thus my lord, it is because you, being a man of coolness and resolution, can understand better than any one what must be accepted with coolness and resolution, for I have no choice but to carry you away from here.”

  “Listen, sir; if the expedient is good, I will be the first to acknowledge it. One moment, however; you seem to forget that I am not here alone.”

  “I know that, my lord; madame the duchess has but just quitted you, she may return any moment.”

  “And not alone, I warn you of that.”

  “Were she accompanied by a hundred armed men I should not fear.”

  “Truly?”

  “No, my lord, I will go further; I rather count upon the return of the duchess to decide you to follow me in case you still hesitate.”

  “Sir you speak in riddles.”

  “I will tell you the word very soon my lord, but first I must inform you that almost all is known concerning you since your flight from London.”

  “In denying this to him I shall force him to speak; and I shall perhaps learn something more,” said the chevalier to himself. “As to that, sir I, cannot believe it; it is not possible.”

  “Listen to me, my lord; it is now four years since you espoused in France the mistress of this house. Whether the marriage be legal or not, having been contracted after your execution, and consequently during the widowhood of your first wife, does not concern me — that is a matter for your conscience and the church.”

  “Decidedly my friend the duke has placed himself in an exceptional position,” said Croustillac to himself, “he can be murdered because he is dead; and he can remarry because his wife is his widow! I begin to have my ideas singularly mixed, for since yesterday very strange things have come to my knowledge.”

  “You see, my lord, that my information is exact.”

  “Exact — exact — to a certain point. You believe me capable of having remarried after my execution; that is rather risky. The devil! sir, one must be very sure of his facts, at least, to attribute to men such original proceedings.”

  “Hold, my lord, you doubtless do not believe in my authority, and you jest; but your gayety does not surprise me; your grace has kept his freedom of spirit in circumstances more serious than this.”

  “What would you wish, sir? gayety is the wealth of the poor.”

  “My lord,” cried the colonel, in a severe tone, “the king, my master, does not merit this reproach.”

  “What reproach?” said the Gascon, stupefied.

  “Your grace said that gayety is the wealth of the poor.”

  “Well, sir, I do not see what there is to insult your master, the king, in that.”

  “Is it not equivalent to saying, my lord, that because you see yourself in the power of my master that you look upon yourself as despoiled of everything?”

  “You are sensitive, sir. Be assured this reflection was purely philosophical and did not have reference to my particular position.”

  “That is different, my lord; but I am astonished to hear you speak of your poverty.”

  “Zounds! that has often made me bitterly lament,” said Croustillac, laughing.

  “Few fortunes equal yours, sir. The enormous sum you received from the sale of a portion of your precious stones will be secured to you and yours. William of Orange, my master, is not one of those who enrich themselves by confiscating the goods of their political enemies.”

  “I did not know thou wast so rich, poor Croustillac,” said the Gascon to himself. “If I had known this, how little would I have swallowed candles for the amusement of that brute of a sea captain.” Then he continued, aloud, “I am aware of the generosity of your master, sir; also of my goods and treasures.” And the Gascon said to himself, “It does me good to say this for once in my life — my goods, my treasures.”

  “The king, my master, my lord, has directed me to say to you that you can charter a vessel to carry your wealth to England.”

  “Oh, my old pink hose, my old green coat, my felt hat and my old sword!” said Croustillac to himself; “those are my real possessions, my real and personal estate! It would not take a merchant ship to transport them.” Then he continued aloud, “But let us return to the motive, sir, which brought you here, and to the discoveries which you have made as to my past life.”

  “For the past three years, my lord, you have lived on this island, remaining hidden to every one, and causing to be spread by a filibuster and others in your pay the strangest stories concerning your house, in order to keep the curious away.”

  “I do not understand this at all,” thought Croustillac. “Blue Beard — no, the widow, that is to say — no, the duchess or rather the wife of the man who is dead, who is a widower — in fact, the wife of no matter whom, is not, then, behind the best of them with her three oddities. For I have seen with my own eyes her strange familiarity with them. I have heard — come, come, if this lasts but a little longer I shall become mad; I am beginning to feel stupid and to see an endless succession of Roman candles in my head!”

  CHAPTER XIX.

  THE SURPRISE.

  RUTLER CONTINUED: “THE maneuvers of your emissaries were crowned with perfect success, my lord, and it was due to the merest chance that your existence was revealed to my master, some two months since, and in order to inform him that without your knowledge, or without your full consent, they would make, my lord, a dangerous instrument of you.”

  “Of me? an instrument of me? and what kind of an instrument, sir?”

  “Your grace knows that as well
as I do; the policy of the cabinet at Versailles and of the papal court at Saint-Germain recoils before no means; it matters little to them that civil war shall lay waste an unhappy country provided their plans succeed. I have no need to say more, my lord.”

  “Yes, sir, yes. I desire that you tell me everything; I would see to what point your credulity has been abused. Explain, sir.”

  “The proof that my credulity has not been abused, my lord, is that my mission has for its end the ruin of the projects of an emissary from France, who, with or without the co-operation of your grace, may arrive at any moment at this island.”

  “I give you my word of honor, sir, that I am ignorant of the arrival of this French emissary.”

  “I must believe you, my lord. However, certain rumors have caused the king to think that your grace, forgetting his old resentment against James Stuart, your uncle, had written to this dethroned king to offer him his services.”

  “James Stuart, being dethroned,” said Croustillac, with an accent full of dignity, “changes entirely the face of things, and I should have been able to condescend in regard to my uncle to proceedings which my pride would never have permitted me before.”

  “Then, my lord, from your point of view, your resolve would not have lacked generosity.”

  “Doubtless I could perfectly well, without compromitting myself, have been reconciled to a dethroned king,” replied Croustillac courageously; “but I have not done so; I swear it on the honor of a gentleman.”

  “I believe you, your grace.”

  “Well, then, your mission has no further object.”

  “You understand, my lord, that, in spite of this guarantee, circumstances may change, and your resolve change with circumstances. The hope of ascending the throne of England causes one to forget many promises and to evade many agreements. Far be it from me to wish to reproach you for the past, but your grace knows what must be sacrificed when one lays audacious hands upon the crown of three kingdoms.”

  “Zounds!” said Croustillac to himself; “it seems that my hand is not dead, and that I am, clearly, a courageous fellow to be well caged. If I only knew how all this would end I should be very much amused.”