Beadle's New York Dime Library No. 206 — page 15: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

“T have it, then, monsieur. This island is full of blacks. Let one be sent with a mes- sage.” ‘* Equally impossible.” ** Why, monsieur?” ‘The emperor is not allowed to talk to the slaves for fear of exciting an insurrection.” “Accursed English! But we will outwit them. Let his majesty ride out in any direc- tion, if he wishes to escape. If he determines not to try the plan, let him remain at home for the day.” ‘“* His majesty has determined to ride no more for the present.” ‘* Peste, monsieur, you meet me at every turn. Am I to understand his majesty is determined not to escape?” “You are not to understand any such Fae comrade. But I willset the signal myself. If you see me in Jamestown to-morrow, and I do not notice you in the least, we shall go.” ‘But I am not to be there, monsieur. My lace will be here. The captain is tc do the amestown business; I am to manage the es- cape,” ‘And the yacht, where is she to be?” ** She is to slip out to sea as soon as it is dark and be off the guard-house. We have a canoe hidden in the valley.” ‘* And your captain?” ‘¢ What cf him, monsieur?”" ‘** How is he to get off?” Martin chuckled. “‘Leave the captain alone. He knows what he is about. Conceive, if you can, monsieur, a outh not yet twenty-five, who can sail a ship tter than I, an old sailor; fences like St. George, commands a battery like the little cor- poral himself, and has learned it all for no pur- pose but to save the emperor. Good-night, monsieur. 1 see we can arrange no signal.” “Stay. Yes, wecan. If we conclude to go, his majesty will come to this summer house at noon, and cast a stone into the valley, as if for sport,” ‘*That will do, monsieur. I shall be on the veranda at Mees Mason’s. She and I are great friends already. I have been on this island six months, preparing for this business. Good- night. Remember to throw down the ladder and hang the rope to a root at the edge of the bank, as soon as you see the flash of my flint.” He threw himself flat on the ground, and went over the edge of the precipice, while Ber- trand remained watching. Presently came the ticking of the steel, and the count threw over the ladder, fastened the wire rope in the shrubbery in a way he felt con- fident would secure it from detection, and then went back to the house, He strolled quietly in past the sentry, who looked at him suspiciously, but said nothing, and then went into the house. He saw a light in the emperor’s library, where his majesty was accustomed to stop frequently late at nights dictating the ‘‘memoirs ” alternately to Gour- gand, Montholon or Bertrand, as one or the other was able to stand the work. . The count knocked at the door, and found Napoleon pacing up and down the little library, | Satria the account of the campaign of ZyPpt. He nodded slightly as Bertrand entered, and went on as usual till he had ended the battle of the Pyramids, when he abruptly halted. ‘That will do to-night, Montholomn. We have something to hear from the Grand Mar- shal of the Palace. Well, count, have you seen any one—for example, this gay young man in the velvet coat?” ‘‘ No, sire, but I have seen some one else.” “ Ah! whom?’ ‘‘T will tell you, sire, when I am sure we have no listeners,” The emperor nodded. It was known that Sir Hudson Lowe had iven orders to watch the movements of all the renchmen closely, and report any suspicious conversations, and the spies round the emperor were none too proud to listen at doors. Count Montholon rose, saying: ‘In that case 1 must go on duty, sire, while Bertrand and you converse.” So saying, the faithful seeretary went out of the room and patrolled the veranda and pass- ages to ascertain if any one was listening, while Bertrand told the emperor the story of his sin- gular interview. Napoleon listened attentively to all the other said, and then observed: “The plan is a good one, and might easily succeed, Attwenty-five I would have taken it up myself; but things have happened since then. At twenty-five I was only a general, and no one cared what became of me. Now I am fifty, and all the worldis watching me. I must think, Good-night.” He dismissed Bertrand with an abrupt wave of the hand and went to his room, while quiet settled over the grounds of Longwood, and even the Eng! ish dozed on their beats in the absence of any «xcitement in their monotonous rounds of dutics, The right wore on in the sultry heat of the tropics, while the mists gathered round Diana’s peak and brooded above the gloomy island, and when morning dawned the fifes and drums of the 53d regiment woke the echoes with their cheerful reveille, and Captain Gervaise yawned as he got out of bed, saying: ‘* Confound this jail duty. an exchange. I’m sick of it.’ Captain Gervaise was not the only person sick of it, and every one welcomed a change in the monotony which was to be furnished that I shall apply for ? day by the entertainment of the Marquis Del- | mont, It had been the talk of Jamestown for three days, during which the splendid but extrava- gantly adorned yacht had been the cynosure of wondering eyes, while more than one visitor had come back with amazing reports of the splendor and lavish hospitality of the gorgeous Mexican, He had entertained every one in regal style, and insisted on conversing in English, which was said to be bad, while he understood no French at all, so that, had it not been for one or two officers of the 53rd who had learned Span- ish in the Peninsular war the Don would have had no one to converse with in his own tongue, But if he talked bad English, he knew how to entertain, and had bought up all the canvas and duck in Jamestown to erect an enormous tent or marquee in which tables were to be spread that evening for three handred officers One Eye, the Cannoneer. ooo a —— ——_—— -_— | | | of the army and navy, who were to be enter- | 1 ' sould veesh somebcdy vould run away vid de prisonaire, aha?’ tained by this lavish Mexican. Even Gervaise who had expressed so much contempt for the occasion, found himself car- ried away in the course of the day by the ac- counts he heard of the splendors in preparation, and went down to the port to see the gaudy vessel that contained the millionaire. He found, lying at the steps from the quay, a six-oared barge, with velvet cushions, in which stood a polite negro, dressed in the Mexican style, who bowed as soon as he saw the captain saving: ‘* You vish see el marques— Adelante, senor— steppa een, dat eez. Don Alberto s’all be ’appee see you.” ** But [ don’t know the Don,” said Gervaise. ‘‘No importa senor—dat is all same. ’E ‘appee see you. Steppa een.” And just at that moment Captain Harry Egerton came down, saying: ‘“Get in, Redge. The Don means it. keeping open house to-day, 1 hear. I’m going, hit or miss.” So Gervaise half unwillingly went into the barge, and was rowed to the gorgeous yacht, where he was met at the gangway and wel- comed with the most grandiloquent courtesy by the swartihy young Apollo whom he had seen the day before, who said: ‘* Aha, it is el capitano, dat guard de pris- oners. Sure, vou are welcome. l1s’all do my- self plaisir to see you.” Gervaise answered as politely as he could, and was shown to aseat on the quarter-deck, where two or three little black boys in Turkish dresses served coffee and cigarettes, and then entered into desultory conversation, the Don showing a good deal of curiosity about the habits of the emperor, and asking so many ques- tions that Gervaise at last said, rather coldly: ‘* | don’t know if my duty allows me to an- swer, senor. May Ilask the reason of these questions?’ ‘‘My dear sare, certainly,” said the other with a fascinating smile. ‘tI write a leetle book some day. Las Aventuras de un ca- ballero Mejicano para todo el mundo—dat eez de a’ventures of a gentleman Mexican, troo all de vorld. IL must say somet’ing as to de im- perador in his preezon—de emperor—” ‘* We don’t give him that title,” said the other dryly. ‘‘Tous and Europe he is only General Bonaparte.” The marquis gave a polite shrug. ‘*As you veel. But dey vould not know vat I mean in Mexique, if l say dat. Dey call him imperador. Is’ould like ver’ mosh to see heem again, so I can take eez picture in my ’ead.” ‘**Can’t be done,” said Gervaise shortly. “Sir Hudson won’t allow it. And was it only curiosity drew you here, marquis?” ‘*Curiositee and Hl Muchachito—de felucca. You like her, senor?’ ‘*Pretty well,” was the indifferent reply. **'Too much color to our English taste.” “Ah, dat is education. In de tropique of ma native land we love de bright color, senor, Ah, vat dat you vas look at?’ He was facing Gervaise, who was looking over his shoulder out to sea, with the air of a man who saw something interesting. ‘* The Penelope’s coming in,” was the reply of Gervaise. ‘I wonder what’s the matter?” The Mexican turned and looked out to the mouth of the harbor, where a handsome frigate was seen coming into the basin under a cloud of sail, which she was slowly taking in as she came near the anchorage, ‘*De Penelope?” he said, inquiringly. ‘‘ Vat is dat, senor?’ “One of the patrol frigates, m is. Her captain is Wright, the man who hates the risoner sO much, im?” The Mexican smiled, Did you ever see or hear of He’s | — ee 15 Neee een nn UE nEnEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE “ Caramba, yes. °E did try to stop me ven I come in vid his big gun, till 1 run in and show my papaire to Sare ‘Udsone. ’E vas ver’ angree, dat man. ’E swear’e blow me out de vataire, but ’e no doit. °E must come to my, banquet, and ve vill drink glass champagne to drown de leetel angaire. Aha! he come in vell. Dat vas prettee, ver’ prettee.” He referred to the way in which Wright broaght his vessel to anchor, clewing up and furling all at once, as soon as the ground tackle took the bottom. ‘*Dat man is good hombre del mar—yonu say sailor. I most send ’eem de invitation. acusa me, He called to the polite coxswain of his barge, and sent him off with a message to Captain Wright, after which he insisted on opening champagne for his guests, till the boat came back, when it brought a refusal from Wright, on the ground that he was going to sea again forthwith, The Don listened carelessly, and then went on with the champagne, with which he plied the British officers till Gervaise’s tongue began to wag too freely, and he growled out complaints against the duty to which he had been assigned in St. Helena. ‘* My dear sare,” replied Delmont, cordially. “T can feel for you. It vas von vat you call meeserable ’ole—is dat it? dis island. You —_— + ee ‘‘{ swear I do,” said Gervaise, recklessly. ‘‘But there is no more danger of that than a fresh earthquake.” : The Don looked at him sharply. ‘* Dere vas eart’quakes ’ere vonce, senor. Dis | land is vot dey ¢all voleanico—I vas born in de a ee voleano—you know—ma countree is all vol- cano,” ‘** Yes,” returned Gervaise, with a yawn; ‘* but these were all burned out, long ago. No chance. And as for an escape, it’s impossible, unless some one corrupted a British garrison, which no one ever did yet.” Again the Don eyed him sharply. “Dat is true—but—if dey vas all dronk— would it not be possible to assault de harbor wid de force necessario?”’ Gervaise laughed. ‘Only a fool would do that, marquis. Our men fight twice as well, drunk, as sober. But ra ray a going now. Thanks for your hospi- tality. «Aad I s’all see you dis evening?” asked the Don, tenderly pressing his hand. “If Lcan find some one to take my p’cce, Has Sir Hudson called yet?” “T ’ave do myself plaisir to call on or. ’Udsone sare, already. ’E vill beat de m_ gn __ at sunset, ven it is cool. Adios, senor.’ And the boat moved away, when Lgert«> remarked to bis friend, thickly: ** Didn’t I tell you? Regular brick, if he js + Spaniard. You'll go to the marquee of ccurs:. There’s little Jones will be glad to take your lace at Longwood. He’s been longing to see joney, for a year past, to get a chance and air his French.” ‘All right,” said Gervaise, recklessly. ‘I don’t care. If Jones wants to try what pur- gatory’s like, let him try it. I’m going to have one spree, if I never have another.” From which it appeared that the Don’s cham- Son wpe a the fastidious palate of Captain rvaise. CHAPTER XII. THE FEAST. As the sun sunk to his rest in the ocean around St. Helena, that day, the scene in the harbor of Jamestown was gay and animated. Theships — were all dressed with flags, and boats were darting to andin the harbor, loaded with officers in full uniform, while the band of the Fifty- third regiment was playing on the qu front of the huge marquee, which was full of servants bustling about. In the cabin of the gorgeous yacht, “ E/ Muchachito,” stood the Mexican Don, more splendidly dressed than ever, for bis jacket and calzoneros were now of silk velvet, with buttons that gleamed all over with jewels, and his volu- rinous sash seemed to be made of nothing but gold brocade. The cabin in which he stood was large and sumptuously furnished, and to most men would have seemed a palace, but this young millionaire looked anxious and worried, careless of the magnificence round him, as he conversed with a gray-baired old seaman, known to the visitors to the yacht as the seiling master, and answer- ing to the name of Don Carlos Herrera, ‘You say there has been no signal from Le Borgne all day?’ said Delmont, in a tone of anxiety. ‘* None,” was the answer, in French, in an accent that showed the speaker to be ah but a Spaniard. ‘‘ We have watched day for it, but it has not come.” Don Alberto bit his lips. ‘Can it be possible the em r declines to escape?” he said, — ‘*Tt cannot be any other cause. Go up and take a last look, The signal was to be—’ EOmichdoo ee ee ee ee (E() 5)