Between every two guns, a table and benches were prepared, not standing on their feet, but slug by ropes from above. Four men were seated upon each of the benches, taking their portion of pieces of beef, which seemed to resist the action of their knives, but which had to do with hearty fellows who did not appear at all disposed to be daunted by its toughness. At every table there were two cans of wine, that is to say, about a pint for each man. As to the bread, it did not appear to be distributed by rations, but they could take as much as they wanted. The most profound silence reigned throughout the crew, which, was composed of not more than from one hundred and eighty to two hundred men.

  Although none of those seated at the table, opened their mouths for any other purpose than to eat, Emanuel perceived, with some surprise, that they were composed of many different nations, which was easily discernible from the contour of their countenances. His cicerone remarked his astonishment, and replying to his thought before he had given utterance to it, said, with an American accent, which Emanuel had already observed, and which proved that he who spoke to him was born on the other side of the Atlantic: “Yes, yes, we have a tolerably pretty sample of every nation in the world, and if all at once a good deluge should carry off the children of Noah, as it formerly did those of Adam, our ark could furnish people who speak every language. Do you observe those three fellows who are exchanging a piece of roast beef for a clove of garlick, they are lads from Galicia, whom we picked up at Cape Ortegal, and who would not go into action without having said a prayer to St Jago, of Compostello, but who, when once their prayer is over, would rather allow themselves to be cut in pieces, like martyrs, than retreat a single step. Those two who are polishing their table at the expense of their jacket-sleeves, are honest Dutchmen, who still complain of the injury done to their commerce by the discovery of the Cape of Good Hope. You see them — at first sight they look like very beer-pots. Well, those brave fellows, the moment they hear the drum beat to quarters, become as active as monkeys. Go near them, and they will talk to you about their ancestors; they will tell you they descended from those famous sweepers of the sea, who when going into action, hoisted a broom instead of a flag; but they will take good care not to inform you that one fine morning the English took their broom, and made rods of it to whip them with. That whole table, where they are chattering together at such a rate, but in an under tone, is occupied by Frenchmen, who would talk louder if they dared. The seat of honor is occupied by a chief, elected by themselves; he is a Parisian by birth, a cosmopolite from taste, a great master at the small sword, single-stick, and a dancing-master to boot. Always gay and contented, he sings when he is on duty, sings when he is fighting, and will die singing, unless a hemp cravat should stop his voice, which may very likely happen to him should he have the misfortune to fall into the hands of John Bull. Turn your eyes to the other side now, and observe that row of square and idle heads. These are strange faces to you, are they not? but which every American born between Hudson’s Bay and the Gulf of Mexico, would recognize at once for bears born on the borders of Lake Erie, or seals from Nova Scotia. There are three, or four of them who are one eyed — this arises from, their peculiar mode of fighting; they twist their fingers in the hair of their antagonist, and gouge out his eye with their thumbs. There are some of them who are very expert at this exercise, and who never miss their mark. So that when they are boarding a ship, they almost invariable throw away their boarding pikes, or their cutlass and seizing the first Englishman they can catch hold of, they uneye him with a dexterity and quickness quite delightful to behold. You will now comprehend that I did not deceive you in what I said, and that our collection is complete.”

  “But,” asked Emanuel, who had listened to this long enumeration with a certain degree of interest, “how does your, captain manage to make himself understood by men brought together from such distant nations?”

  “First of all our captain understands all languages — and although in battle and during stormy weather he speaks his mother tongue, he gives such an accent to it that every one understands him and obeys; him. But see, the larboard cabin door is opening,- and I doubt not he is ready to receive you.”

  And instantly a boy dressed in a midshipman uniform came up to the two officers, and asked Emanuel if he did not call himself the Count d’Auray; and on his receiving an affirmative reply he requested him to follow him; and the officer who had so conscientiously sustained the part of a cicerone, immediately went on deck to resume his duties there. As to Emanuel he advanced towards the cabin with a mixed feeling of anxiety and curiosity, He was at last about to be ushered in the presence of Captain Paul.

  He was a man who appeared to be between fifty and fifty-five years of age, and to whom the habit of walking between decks had given him a stoop rather than age. He wore the uniform, of the French navy, according to its strictest regulations. It was a blue coat with scarlet facings, a red waistcoat, and breeches of the same color, grey stockings, with frilled shirt and’ ruffles. His hair, rolled up in large curls, and powdered quite white, was tied into a queue by a ribbon, the ends of which floated upon his shoulders. His cocked hat and his CAPTAIN PAUL, sword were lying upon a table beside Mm. At the moment Emanuel entered the door, he was sitting upon the carriage of a gun, but when he perceived him, he rose up to receive him.

  The young count felt intimidated by the aspect of this man: there was in his eye a searching look which appeared to peer into the very soul of the person whom he gazed upon. Perhaps, also, this impression was the more powerful, that he presented himself before him with a conscience that reproached him with the act he was endeavouring to accomplish, and of which he was about to render the captain, if not an accomplice, at all events the executioner. These two men, as though they felt a secret repulsion, the one towards the other, saluted each other with politeness, but with cold reserve.

  “It is the Count d’Auray that I have the honor of addressing,” said the old officer.

  “And I Captain Paul, I believe,” replied the young mousquetaire; they both bowed a second time.

  “May I know to what fortunate chance I owe the honor,” rejoined the captain, “of the visit which is now paid to me by the heir of one of the oldest and greatest families in Brittany?”

  Emanuel bowed again by way of thanks for this compliment, and then, after hesitating for a moment as if he found it difficult to open the conversation, he observed: I am told, Captain Paul, that you are bound to the Gulf of Mexico?”

  “And you have not been deceived, sir; I purpose sailing for New Orleans, calling on my way at Cayenne, and at the Havannah.”

  “This falls out very fortunately, captain, and you will not have to alter your course, in case you should be willing to undertake the execution of the order of which I am the bearer.”

  “You have an order to communicate to me, sir, and from whom?”

  “From the Minister of Marine.”

  “An order addressed to me personally?” reiterated the captain, doubtingly.

  “Not personally to you, sir; but to any captain of the royal navy, who may be about to sail for South America.”

  “Of what nature is it, count?”

  “A state prisoner to be transported to Cayenne.”

  “And you have the order with you?”

  “Here it is,” replied Emanuel, taking it from his pocket, and presenting it to the captain.

  He took the paper, and going near the cabin window, that he might avail himself of the last gleam of daylight, he read aloud:

  “The Ministers of Marine and of the Colonies, orders any captain or lieutenant, commanding a government vessel, who may be about to sail for South America, or for the Gulf of Mexico, to take on board his ship and to land at Cayenne, the person named Lusignan, condemned to transportation for life. During the passage the convict shall take his meals in his own cabin, and shall, not be allowed to have any communication with the ship’s company,”

  “Is the order in due form?” asked Emanuel.

  “Perfectly, sir,” replied the captain.

  “And are you disposed to execute it?”

  “Am I not under the orders of the Minister of Marine?”

  “The prisoner may then be sent to you?”

  “Whenever you will; but it had better be this evening, or as soon as possible, as I do not expect to be long in these roads.”

  “I will take care that due diligence shall be used.”

  “Is this all that you have to say to me?”

  “Nothing further, excepting to add my thanks.”

  “Do not add anything, sir. The minister orders, and I obey, that’s all. It is a duty which I fulfil, and not a service that I am rendering.”

  Upon these words, the captain and the count bowed to each other and separated, more coldly even than they had met.

  When he reached the deck, Emanuel asked the officer of the watch for his friend who had accompanied him on board, but was informed he had been detained by Captain Paul to sup with him, and that being anxious to oblige the count, he had placed his boat as his disposal.

  She was waiting alongside the ship, and the sailors were in readiness to accompany him. Emanuel had scarcely got into her when they rowed him away with a rapidity equal to that with which they had conducted him on board. But this time she proceeded in sorrowful silence, for the young lieutenant was no longer there to animate the count with his practical philosophy.

  That same night the prisoner was conducted on board the Indienne, and the next morning at day-break the inquisitive inhabitants of the coast no longer discerned the frigate which had given rise to so many conjectures, and whose unexpected arrival, her remaining there without any apparent object, and her spontaneous departure, remained an inexplicable mystery to the inhabitants of Fort Louis.

  CHAPTER III.

  THE SEA FIGHT.

  The gallant vessels side by side did lie,

  Yard-arm and yard-arm, and the murd’rous

  Belch’d forth their flame and shot, ‘till the white decks

  Ran like a sea with blood. Uncertain still

  The victory stood, ‘till Perry, waving

  His bright sword o’er his head, cried, “Follow me!”

  A hundred shouts responded to this call,

  .Then with one spring he bounded on the deck

  Of his determined fou. — OLD PLAY.

  As the motives which had induced Captain Paul to visit the coast of Brittany had no relation with our history, excepting as far as regards the events which we have related, we shall leave our readers in the same state of uncertainty as were the inhabitants of Fort Louis; and although our vocation and our sympathies naturally incline us to terra-firma, we must follow our hero for a few days in his adventurous course upon the ocean. The weather was as beautiful as it generally is on the western coast of France, at the commencement of autumn. The Indienne sailed gaily on with as fair a wind as could blow for her. The ship’s crew, excepting those actually employed in manoeuvring the vessel, were availing themselves of the fine weather and occupied in their own matters, as caprice directed them, or were idly lounging about the ship, when all at once a voice which appeared to descend from the sky, called out, “Below, there!”

  “Hullo, there!” replied the quarter-master, who was standing near the helm.

  “Sail, ho!” cried the seaman who was on the lookout, at the head-mast.

  “Sail, ho!” repeated the quarter-master. “Officer of the deck, be so good as to inform the captain there is a sail in sight,”

  “A sail! a sail!” re-echoed the crew from different parts of the deck; for at that moment a wave having raised the vessel which appeared upon the horizon, hail for an instant rendered her visible to the eyes of the ship’s company.

  “A sail!” exclaimed a young man of five-and-twenty, springing upon the quarter deck from the cabin stairs; “ask Mr Arthur what he thinks of her.”

  “Mast head, there!” cried the lieutenant, using his speaking trumpet; the captain wants to know, Mr. Arthur, what you make of the strange sail.”

  Arthur, the young midshipman, had gone aloft immediately upon hearing a sail announced. He replied, “She looks like a large square-rigged vessel, close hauled, and steering for us.”

  “Yes, yes,” said the young man, to whom Walter had given the title of captain, “she has as good eyes as we have, and she has seen us. Very well, if she wishes for a little chat, she will find us ready to talk to her. Besides, our guns must be almost choked from having their mouths stopped so long.”

  After some little time, the midshipman again hailed the officer on deck, and told him that the strange ship had just set her mainsail, and had altered her course a little, so as to cross their bow.

  “Sir,” said the captain, addressing the lieutenant, “get ready to beat to quarters, we must prepare for this fellow; he looks rather suspicious.” And then calling out to the midshipman, “How does the ship seem to sail, Mr. Arthur? what do you think of her?”

  “She seems to be a fast sailor, and is a man-of-war, I should think, by the squareness of her yards; and although I cannot see her flag, I would wager that she bears King George’s commission.”

  “I should not wonder,” observed the captain to the first lieutenant, “and that she has orders to give chase to a certain frigate called the Indienne, and that her commander is promised good promotion should he succeed in capturing her. Ha! ha! now she is loosing her top gallant sails. The blood hound has scented us, and is decidedly about to give us chase. Set our top gallant sails, too, Mr. Walter, and let us keep our course without varying a point. We shall see whether they will dare to come athwart our hawse.”

  The captain’s orders were instantly repeated by the lieutenant, and in a few minutes the ship which had been running under her top sails, felt the influence of her top gallant sails, heeled over under this new pressure and bounded along as if animated by the sight of an enemy, and dashing away the spray from either bow with eager impetuosity.

  For some time there was hardly a word uttered on board. Every one appeared to wait anxiously the termination of this state of suspense, and we shall profit by this momentary quiet, to call the attention of our readers to the person of the officer to whom the lieutenant had given the title of captain.

  It was no longer either the young and sceptical lieutenant whom we have seen accompanying the Count d’Auray on board the ship, nor the old sea-wolf with his stooping gait, and harsh and snappish answers, who had received him in the cabin. He was a handsome young man, from twenty to twenty-five years of age, as we have said before, who, having thrown off all disguise, appeared at length in his own person, and dressed in the fanciful uniform which he always wore when upon the wide ocean. It was a sort of great coat of black velvet, with gold shoulder knots and fastened with hooks and eyes of the same metal. Around his waist he wore a Turkish belt, in which was placed a pair of elegant duelling pistols, richly inlaid and ornamented, apparently more for show than defence. His pantaloons were of white kerseymere, with boots which reached nearly to his knees. Round his neck, a cravat of transparent India muslin, embroidered with flowers in their natural colors, was loosely tied; his hair, no longer disfigured by powder, and black as ebony, flowed about his cheeks, which were tanned by exposure to the sun; his eyes beamed with hope and animation. Near him, upon a gun, was placed a steel helmet which fastened by a curb chain under the chin. This was his battle dress, and the only defensive armour which he wore. Some deep indentations in his helmet proved that it had more than once saved the head which it protected from those severe wounds inflicted by those terrible cutlasses used by seamen when boarding. As to the ship’s company, they wore the elegant though plain uniform of the French navy.

  During this time, the vessel which had been described by the man at the mast head, and which had then appeared like a white speck upon the horizon, had become, little by little, a pyramid of sails and rigging. All eyes were fixed upon her, and although no order had been actually given, every one of the crew had taken the position which individually belonged to him, as though it had been determined that a combat should take place. There reigned then on board the Indienne that solemn and profound silence, which in a ship of war always precedes the decisive orders of the captain. Finally, the hull of the strange sail appeared rising out of the water, as her sails had successively done before. It was then clearly discernible that she was a larger ship than the Indienne, and that she carried thirty-six guns. She, however, showed no colors, and as her crew were carefully and completely concealed behind her bulwarks, it was impossible to ascertain, unless by some particular indications, to what nation she belonged. These two observations were made almost at the same moment by Captain Paul; the last, however, seemed to strike him the most forcibly.

  “It appears,” said lie, addressing his lieutenant, “that we are going to have a scene of a masked ball. Order Arthur to bring us a few flags, and let us prove to this unknown, that the Indienne has several disguises at her disposal. And then, Mr. Walter, give orders that cutlasses and boarding pikes be distributed, for we can hardly expect, in these seas, to meet with any but enemy’s ships.”

  The two orders were executed as soon as given. In an instant the young midshipman had brought on deck a dozen flags of different nations, and Lieutenant Walter, having had the arm chest opened, had boarding pikes piled in different positions throughout the ship, and had distributed cutlasses and axes to the ship’s company, he then returned to his place by the Captain’s side. Every man again resumed his post by instinct rather than by order, for they had not yet beat to quarters; so that the apparent confusion which had existed for a moment ceased at once, and the frigate became once more, as it were, silent and attentive.

  However, the two ships following their converging directions, continued to approach each other. * When they were about the distance of three gun shots, “Mr. Walter,” said the Captain, “I think it is time we should begin to mystify our good friend here. Let us show him the old Scotch flag.”

 

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