XXII.
If there is in our civilized states a profession more arduous thanothers it is surely that of the sailor. So arduous is it, that we arealmost disposed to ask how men can be found bold enough to embrace _it_,and firm enough in their resolution not to abandon it after having triedit. Not because of the hazards, the fatigues, and the dangers connectedwith it, but because it creates an existence apart, and because theconditions it imposes seem to be incompatible with free will.
Still no one is more attached to his home than the sailor. There are fewamong them who are not married. And by a kind of special grace theyare apt to enjoy their short happiness as if it were for eternity,indifferent as to what the morning may bring.
But behold! one fine morning, all of a sudden, a big letter comes fromthe department.
It is an order to sail.
He must go, abandoning every thing and everybody,--mother, family, andfriends, the wife he has married the day before, the young mother whosits smiling by the cradle of her first-born, the betrothed who waslooking joyfully at her bridal veil. He must go, and stifle all thoseominous voices which rise from the depth of his heart, and say to him,"Will you ever return? and, if you return, will you find them all, yourdear ones? and, if you find them, will they not have changed? will theyhave preserved your memory as faithfully as you have preserved theirs?"
To be happy, and to be compelled to open to mishap this fatal door,absence! Hence it is only in comic operas, and inferior novels, that thesailors are seen to sing their most cheerful songs at the moment when avessel is about to sail on a long and perilous voyage. The moment is, inreality, always a sad one, very grave and solemn.
Such could not fail to be the scene also, when "The Conquest"sailed,--the ship on board of which Daniel Champcey had been ordered aslieutenant. And certainly there had been good reasons for ordering himto make haste and get down to the port where she lay; for the very nextday after his arrival, she hoisted anchor. She had been waiting for himonly.
Having reached Rochefort at five o'clock in the morning, he slept thesame night on board; and the next day "The Conquest" sailed. Danielsuffered more than any other man on board, although he succeeded inaffecting a certain air of indifference. The thought of Henrietta beingleft in the hands of adventurers who were capable of any thing wasa thorn in his side, which caused him great and constant pain. As hegradually calmed down, and peace returned to his mind, a thousand doubtsassailed him concerning Maxime de Brevan: would he not be exposed toterrible temptation when he found himself thrown daily into the companyof a great heiress? Might he not come to covet her millions, and try toabuse her peculiar situation in order to secure them to himself?
Daniel believed too firmly in his betrothed to apprehend that she wouldeven listen to Brevan. But he reasoned, very justly, that his darlingwould be in a desperate condition indeed, if M. de Brevan, furious atbeing refused, should betray his confidence, and go over to the enemy,to the Countess Sarah.
"And I," he thought, "who in my last directions urged her to trustimplicitly in Maxime, and to follow his advice as if it were my own!"
In the midst of these terrible anxieties, he hardly recollected thathe had intrusted to Maxime every thing that he possessed. What was hismoney to him in comparison!
Thus it appeared to him a genuine favor of Providence when "TheConquest," six days out at sea, experienced a violent storm, whichendangered her safety for nearly seventy-two hours. His thoughtsdisappeared while he felt his grave responsibility, as long as the seatossed the vessel to and fro like a mere cork, and while the crew foughtwith the elements till they were overcome by fatigue. He had actually agood night's rest, which he had not enjoyed since he left Paris.
When he awoke, he was surprised to feel a certain peace of mind.Henceforth his fate was no longer in his own hands; he had been shownvery clearly his inability to control events. Sad resignation succeededto his terrible anxiety.
A single hope now kept him alive,--the hope of soon receiving a letterfrom Henrietta, or, it might be, of finding one upon arriving at hisdestination; for it was by no means impossible for "The Conquest" to beoutstripped by some vessel that might have left port three weeks later."The Conquest," an old wooden frigate, and a sailing vessel, justifiedher bad reputation of being the worst sailor in the whole fleet.Moreover, alternate calms and sudden blows kept her much longer thanusually on the way. The oldest sailors said they had never seen a moretedious voyage.
To add to the discomfort, "The Conquest" was so crammed full withpassengers, that sailors and officers had hardly half of the spaceusually allotted to them on board ship. Besides the crew, there were onboard a half battalion of marines, and a hundred and sixty mechanics ofvarious trades, whom government sent out for the use of the colony. Someof these artisans had their families with them, having determined tobecome settlers in Cochin China; others, generally quite young yet,only made the voyage in order to have an opportunity for seeing foreignlands, and for earning, perhaps, a little money. They were occasionallycalled upon to assist in handling the ship, and were, on the whole, goodmen, with the exception of four or five, who were so unruly that theyhad to be put in irons more than once.
The days passed, nevertheless; and "The Conquest" had been out threemonths, when one afternoon, as Daniel was superintending a difficultmanoeuvre, he was suddenly seen to stagger, raise his arms on high, andfall backwards on the deck.
They ran up to him, and raised him up; but he gave no sign of life; andthe blood poured forth from his mouth and nose in streams. Daniel hadwon the hearts of the crew by his even temper, his strict attention toduty, and his kindness, when off duty, to all who came in contact withhim. Hence, when the accident became known, in an instant sailors andofficers came hurrying up from one end of the frigate to the other, andeven from the lowest deck, to see what had happened to him.
What had happened? No one could tell; for no one had seen any thing.Still it must be a very grave matter, to judge from the large pool ofblood which dyed the deck at the place where the young man had fallendown so suddenly. They had carried him to the infirmary; and, as soon ashe recovered his senses, the surgeons discovered the cause of his falland his fainting.
He had an enormous contused wound on the back of his head, a littlebehind the left ear,--a wound such as a heavy hammer in the hands of apowerful man might have produced. Whence came this terrible blow, whichapparently a miracle alone had prevented from crushing the skull? Noone could explain this, neither the surgeons, nor the officers who stoodaround the bed of the wounded man. When Daniel could be questioned, heknew no more about it than the others. There had been no one standingnear him; nor had he seen anybody come near him at the time of theaccident; the blow, moreover, had been so violent, that he had fallendown unconscious. All these details soon became current among thesailors and passengers who had crowded on deck. They were received withincredulous smiles, and, when they could no longer be held in doubt,with bursts of indignation.
What! Lieut. Champcey had been struck in broad daylight, in the midst ofthe crew! How? By whom?
The whole matter was so wrapped up in mystery, that it became allimportant to clear it up; and the sailors themselves opened at once akind of court of inquest. Some hairs, and a clot of blood, which werediscovered on an enormous block, seemed to explain the riddle. It wouldseem that the rope to which this enormous block was fastened had slippedout of the hands of one of the sailors who were engaged in the rigging,carrying out the manoeuvre superintended by Daniel.
Frightened by the consequences of his awkwardness, but, neverthelesspreserving his presence of mind, this man had, no doubt, drawn up theblock so promptly, that he had not been noticed. Could it be hoped thathe would accuse himself? Evidently not. Besides, what would be the useof it? The wounded man was the first to request that the inquiries mightbe stopped.
When, at the end of a fortnight, Champcey returned to duty, they ceasedtalking of the accident; unfortunately, such things happen but toofrequently on board ship. Be
sides, the idea that "The Conquest" wasdrawing near her destination filled all minds, and sufficed for allconversations.
And really, one fine evening, as the sun was setting, land was seen, andthe next morning, at daybreak, the frigate sailed into the Dong-Nai,the king of Cochin Chinese rivers, which is so wide and so deep, thatvessels of the largest tonnage can ascend it without difficulty tillthey reach Saigon.
Standing on deck, Daniel watched the monotonous scenes which theypassed,--a landscape strange in form, and exhaling mortal fevers fromthe soil, and the black yielding slime.
After a voyage of several months, he derived a melancholy pleasure fromseeing the banks of the river overshadowed by mango trees and mangroves,with their supple, snakelike roots wandering far off under water; whileon shore a soft, pleasant vegetation presented to the eye the wholerange of shades in green, from the bluish, sickly green of the idrysto the dark, metallic green of the stenia. Farther inland, tall grapes,lianes, aloes, and cactus formed impenetrable thickets, out of whichrose, like fluted columns, gigantic cocoa-palms, and the most gracefultrees on earth, areca-palms. Through clearings here and there, one couldfollow, as far as the eye reached, the course of low, fever-breedingmarshes, an immense mud-plain covered with a carpet of undulatingverdure, which opened and closed again under the breeze, like the seaitself.
"Ah! That is Saigon, is it?" said to Daniel a voice full of delight.
He turned round. It was his best friend on board, a lieutenant likehimself, who had come to his side, and, offering him a telescope, saidwith a great sigh of satisfaction,--
"Look! there, do you see? At last we are here. In two hours, Champcey,we shall be at anchor."
In the distance one could, in fact, make out upon the deep blue of thesky the profile of the curved roof of the pagodas in Saigon. It took along hour yet, before, at a turn in the river, the town itself appeared,miserable looking,--with all deference to our geographies, be itsaid,--in spite of the immense labor of the French colony.
Saigon consists mainly of one wide street running parallel with theright bank of the Dong-Nai, a primitive, unpaved street cut up intoruts, broken in upon by large empty spaces, and lined with wooden housescovered with rice-straw or palm-leaves.
Thousands of boats crowd against the banks of the river along thisstreet, and form a kind of floating suburb, overflowing with a strangemedley of Annamites, Hindoos, and Chinamen. At a little distance fromthe river, there appear a few massive buildings with roofs of red tiles,pleasing to the eye, and here and there an Annamite farm, which seemsto hide behind groups of areca-palms. Finally, on an eminence, rise thecitadel, the arsenal, the house of the French commander, and the formerdwelling of the Spanish colonel.
But every town is beautiful, where we land after a voyage of severalmonths. Hence, as soon as "The Conquest" was safely at anchor, all theofficers, except the midshipman on duty, went on shore, and hastenedto the government house to ask if letters from France had arrived therebefore them. Their hopes were not deceived. Two three-masters, oneFrench, the other English, which had sailed a month later than "TheConquest," had arrived there at the beginning of the week, bringingdespatches.
There were two letters for Daniel, and with feverish hands and beatingheart he took them from the hand of the old clerk. But at the firstglance at the addresses he turned pale. He did not see Henrietta'shandwriting. Still he tore open the envelopes, and glanced at thesignatures. One of the letters was signed, "Maxime de Brevan;" theother, "Countess Ville-Handry," _nee_ Sarah Brandon.
Daniel commenced with the latter. After informing him of her marriage,Sarah described at great length Henrietta's conduct on the wedding-day.
"Any other but myself," she said, "would have been incensed at thisatrocious insult, and would abuse her position to be avenged. But I, whonever yet forgave anybody, I will forgive her, Daniel, for your sake,and because I cannot see any one suffer who has loved you."
A postscript she had added ran thus,--
"Ah! why did you not prevent my marriage, when you could do so by aword? They think I have reached the summit of my wishes. I have neverbeen more wretched."
This letter made Daniel utter an exclamation of rage. He saw nothing init but bitter irony.
"This miserable woman," he thought, "laughs at me; and, when she saysshe does not blame Henrietta, that means that she hates her, and willpersecute her."
Maxime's letter fortunately reassured him a little. Maxime confirmedSarah's account, adding, moreover, that Miss Henrietta was very sad,but calm and resigned; and that her step-mother treated her with thegreatest kindness. The surprising part was, that Brevan did not say aword of the large amounts that had been intrusted to his care, nor ofhis method of selling the lands, nor of the price which he had obtained.
But Daniel did not notice this; all his thoughts were with Henrietta.
"Why should she not have written," he thought, "when all the othersfound means to write?"
Overwhelmed with disappointment, he had sat down on a wooden bench inthe embrasure of one of the windows in the hall where the letters weredistributed. Travelling across the vast distance which separated himfrom France, his thoughts were under the trees in the garden of thecount's palace. He felt as if a powerful effort of his will would enablehim to transport himself thither. By the pale light of the moon hethought he could discern the dress of his beloved as she stole towardshim between the old trees.
A friendly touch on the shoulder recalled him rudely to the real world.Four or five officers from "The Conquest" were standing around him, gay,and free from cares, a hearty laugh on their lips.
"Well, my dear Champcey," they said, "are you coming?"
"Where?"
"Why, to dinner!"
And as he looked at them with the air of a man who had just been roused,and has not had time to collect his thoughts, they went on,--
"Well, to dinner. It appears Saigon possesses an admirable Frenchrestaurant, where the cook, a Parisian, is simply a great artist. Come,get up, and let us go."
But Daniel was in a humor which made solitude irresistibly attractive.He trembled at the idea of being torn from his melancholy reveries, ofbeing compelled to take his part in conversation, to talk, to listen, toreply.
"I cannot dine with you to-day, my friends," he said to his comrades.
"You are joking."
"No, I am not. I must return on board." Then only, the others werestruck by the sad expression of his face; and, changing their tone, theyasked him in the most affectionate manner,--
"What is the matter, Champcey? Have you heard of any misfortune, anydeath?"
"No."
"You have had letters from France, I see."
"They bring me nothing sad. I was expecting news, and they have notcome; that is all."
"Oh! then you must come with us."
"Do not force me; I would be a sorry companion."
Still they insisted, as friends will insist who will not understand thatothers may not be equally tempted by what charms them; but nothing couldinduce Daniel to change his mind. At the door of the government house heparted with his comrades, and went back, sad and solitary, towards theharbor.
He reached without difficulty the banks of the Dong-Nai; but hereobstacles presented themselves of which he had not thought. The nightwas so dark, that he could hardly see to find his way along a wharf inprocess of construction, and covered with enormous stones and timber.Not a light in all the native huts around. In spite of his efforts topierce this darkness, he could discern nothing but the dark outlineof the vessels lying at anchor in the river, and the light of thelighthouse as it trembled in the current.
He called. No voice replied. The silence, which was as deep as thedarkness, was broken only by the low wash of the river as it flowed downrapidly.
"I am quite capable," thought Daniel, "of not finding the boat of 'TheConquest.'"
Still he did find it, after long search, drawn up, and half lost, in acrowd of native boats. But the boat seemed to be empty.
It was only whenhe got into it, that he discovered a little midshipman fast asleep inthe bottom, wrapped up in a carpet which was used to cover the seatsfor the officers. Daniel shook him. He rose slowly, and grumbling, as ifovercome by sleep.
"Well, what is the matter?" he growled.
"Where are the men?" asked Daniel.
Quite awake now, the midshipman, who had good eyes, had noticed, inspite of the darkness, the gold of the epaulets. This made him veryrespectful at once; and he replied,--
"Lieutenant, all the men are in town."
"How so? All?"
"Why, yes, lieutenant! When all the officers had gone on shore, theytold the boatswain they would not come back very soon, and he might takehis time to eat a mouthful, and to drink a glass, provided the men didnot get drunk."
That was so; and Daniel had forgotten the fact.
"And where did they go?" he asked.
"I don't know, lieutenant."
Daniel looked at the large, heavy boat, as if he had thought for amoment to return in it to "The Conquest" with no other help but thelittle midshipman; but, no, that was impracticable.
"Well, go to sleep again," he said to the boy.
And jumping on shore, without uttering a word of disappointment, he wasgoing in search of his comrades, when he saw suddenly a man turn up outof the darkness, whose features it was impossible to distinguish.
"Who is there?" he asked.
"Mr. Officer," answered the man in an almost unintelligible jargon, ahorrible medley of French, Spanish, and English. "I heard you tell thelittle man in the boat there"--
"Well?"
"I thought you wanted to get back on board your ship?"
"Why, yes."
"Well, then, if you like it, I am a boatman; I can take you over."
There was no reason why Daniel should mistrust the man. In all ports ofthe world, and at any hour of the day or the night, men are to be foundwho are lying in wait on the wharves for sailors who have been belated,and who are made to pay dear for such extra services.
"Ah! you are a boatman, you say?" Daniel exclaimed, quite pleased at theencounter. "Well, where is your boat?"
"There, Mr. Officer, a little way down; just follow me. But what ship doyou want to go to?"
"That ship there."
And Daniel pointed out to him "The Conquest" as she lay not six hundredyards off in the river, showing her lights.
"That is rather far," grumbled the man; "the tide is low; and thecurrent is very strong."
"I'll give you a couple of francs for your trouble."
The man clapped his hands with delight, and said,--
"Ah! if that's the way, all right. Come along, Mr. Officer, a littlefarther down. There, that's my boat. Get in, now steady!"
Daniel followed his directions; but he was so much struck by the man'sawkwardness in getting the boat off, that he could not help saying tohim,--
"Ah, my boy, you are not a boatman, after all!"
"I beg pardon, sir; I used to be one before I came to this country."
"What is your country?"
"Shanghai."
"Nevertheless, you will have to learn a great deal before you will everbe a sailor."
Still, as the boat was very small, a mere nutshell, in fact, Danielthought he could, if needs be, take an oar himself. Thereupon, sittingdown, and stretching out his legs, he was soon once more plunged inmeditations. The unfortunate man was soon roused, however, by a terriblesensation.
Thanks to a shock, a wrong movement, or any other accident, the boatupset, and Daniel was thrown into the river; and, to fill the measure ofhis mishaps, one of his feet was so closely jammed in between the seatand the boat itself, that he was paralyzed in his movements, and soonunder water.
He saw it all in an instant; and his first thought was,--
"I am lost!"
But, desperate as his position was, he was not the man to give up.Gathering, by one supreme effort, all his strength and energy, he tookhold of the boat, that had turned over just above him, and pushed it soforcibly, that he loosened his foot, and at the same moment reached thesurface. It was high time; for Daniel had swallowed much water.
"Now," he thought, "I have a chance to escape!"
A very frail chance, alas!--so small a chance, in fact, that it requiredall the strong will and the invincible courage of Daniel to give itany effect. A furious current carried him down like a straw; the littleboat, which might have supported him, had disappeared; and he knewnothing about this formidable Dong-Nai, except that it went on wideningto its mouth. There was nothing to guide him; for the night was so dark,that land and water, the river and its banks, all melted together in theuniform, bottomless darkness.
What had become of the boatman, however? At all events, he called,--
"Ahoy, my man!"
No answer. Had he been swept off? Or did he get back into the boat?Perhaps he was drowned already.
But all of a sudden Daniel's heart trembled with joy and hope. He hadjust made out, a few hundred yards below, a red light, indicating avessel at anchor. All his efforts were directed towards that point.He was carried thither with an almost bewildering rapidity. He nearlytouched it; and then, with incredible presence of mind, and greatprecision, at the moment when the current drove him close up to theanchor-chain, he seized it. He held on to it; and, having recovered hisbreath, he uttered three times in succession, with all the strength ofhis lungs, so sharp a cry, that it was heard above the fierce roar ofthe river,--
"Help, help, help!"
From the ship came a call, "Hold on!" proving to him that his appeal hadbeen heard, and that help was at hand.
Too late! An eddy in the terrible current seized him, and, withirresistible violence, tore the chain, slippery with mud, out of hisstiffened hands. Rolled over by the waters, he was rudely thrown againstthe side of the vessel, went under, and was carried off.
When he rose to the surface, the red light was far above him, and belowno other light was in sight. No human help was henceforth within reach.Daniel could now count only upon himself in trying to make one of thebanks. Although he could not measure the distance, which might be verygreat, the task did not seem to him beyond his strength, if he had onlybeen naked. But his clothes encumbered him terribly; and the water whichthey soaked up made them, of course, every moment more oppressive.
"I shall be drowned, most assuredly," he thought, "if I cannot get ridof my clothes."
Excellent swimmer as he was, the task was no easy one. Still heaccomplished it. After prodigious efforts of strength and skill, he gotrid of his shoes; and then he cried out, as if in defiance of the blindelement against which he was struggling,--
"I shall pull through! I shall see Henrietta again!"
But it had cost him an enormous amount of time to undress; and how couldhe calculate the distance which this current had taken him down--one ofthe swiftest in the world? As he tried to recall all he knew about it,he remembered having noticed that, a mile below Saigon, the river wasas wide as a branch of the sea. According to his calculation, he must benear that spot now.
"Never mind," he said to himself, "I mean to get out of this."
Not knowing to which bank he was nearest, he had resolved, almostinstinctively, to swim towards the right bank, on which Saigon stands.
He was thus swimming for about half an hour, and began already to feelhis muscles stiffening, and his joints losing their elasticity, whilehis breathing became oppressed, and his extremities were chilled, whenhe noticed from the wash of the water that he was near the shore. Soonhe felt the ground under his feet; but, the moment he touched it, hesank up to his waist into the viscous and tenacious slime, which makesall the Cochin China rivers so peculiarly dangerous.
There was the land, no doubt, and only the darkness prevented his seeingit; and yet his situation was more desperate than ever. His legs werecaught as in a vice; the muddy water was boiling nearly up to his lips;and, at every effort to extricate himself, he sank deeper in, a little
at a time, but always a little more. His presence of mind now began toleave him, as well as his strength; and his thoughts became confused,when he touched, instinctively feeling for a hold, the root of amangrove.
That root might be the saving of his life. First he tried its strength;then, finding it sufficiently solid, he hoisted himself up by it,gently, but with the frenzied energy of a drowning man; then, creepingcautiously on the treacherous mud, he finally succeeded in reaching firmground, and fell down exhausted.
He was saved from drowning; but what was to become of him, naked,exhausted, chilled as he was, and lost in this dark night in a strangeand deserted country? After a moment, however, he rose, and tried to geton; but at every step he was held back on all sides by lianes and cactusthorns.
"Well," he said, "I must stay here till day breaks."
The rest of the night he spent in walking up and down, and beating hischest, in order to keep out the terrible chills which penetrated to thevery marrow of his bones. The first light of dawn showed him how he wasimprisoned within an apparently impenetrable thicket, out of which, itseemed, he could never find his way. He did find it, however, and aftera walk of four hours, he reached Saigon.
Some sailors of a merchant-ship, whom he met, lent him a few clothes,and carried him on board "The Conquest," where he arrived more dead thanalive.
"Where do you come from, great God! in such a state?" exclaimed hiscomrades when they saw him.
"What has happened to you?"
And, when he had told them all he had gone through since they parted,they said,--
"Certainly, my dear Champcey, you are a lucky fellow. This is the secondaccident from which you escape as by a miracle. Mind the third!"
"Mind the third!" that was exactly what Daniel thought.
For, in the midst of all the frightful sufferings he had undergoneduring the past night, he had reflected deeply. That block which hadfallen on his head, no one knew whence; this boat sinking suddenly, andwithout apparent cause--were they the work of chance alone?
The awkwardness of the boatman who had so unexpectedly turned up tooffer him his services had filled his mind with strange doubts. Thisman, a wretched sailor, might be a first-class swimmer; and, havingtaken all his measures before upsetting the boat, he might easily havereached land after the accident.
"This boatman," Daniel thought, "evidently wanted me to perish. Why, andwhat purpose? Evidently not for his sake. But who is interested in mydeath? Sarah Brandon? No, that cannot be!"
What was still less likely was, that a wretch in Sarah Brandon's payshould have found his way on board "The Conquest," and should then havebeen precisely at the right moment at the wharf, the first time Danielwent on shore. Still his suspicions troubled him to such a degree, thathe determined to make every effort to solve the mystery.
To begin, he asked for a list of all the men who had been allowed togo on shore the night before. He learned in reply, that only the crewsof the different boats had been at Saigon, but that all the emigrantshaving been allowed to land, several of these men had also gone onshore. With this information, and in spite of his great weakness, Danielwent to the chief of police at Saigon, and asked him for an officer.With this agent he went to the wharf, to the spot where the boat of"The Conquest" had been lying the night before, and asked him to makeinquiries there as to any boatman that might have disappeared during thenight.
None of the boatmen was missing; but they brought Daniel a poor Annamitefellow, who had been wandering about the river-bank ever since earlymorning, tearing his hair, and crying that he had been robbed; thatthey had stolen his boat. Daniel had been unable the night before todistinguish the form or the dress of the man whose services he hadaccepted; but he had heard his voice, and he recalled the peculiarintonation so perfectly, that he would have recognized it amongthousands. Besides, this poor devil did not know a word of French (morethan ten persons bore witness to it); and born on the river, and havingalways lived there, he was an excellent sailor. Finally, it was veryclear, that, if this man had committed the crime, he would have beencareful not to claim his boat.
What could Daniel conclude from this summary inquiry?
"There is no doubt about it," he thought. "I was to be murdered."
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