LITMIR.BIZ

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I hope it will be always so, until our arrival at the Isle of St. Marguerite."

      "It is certainly a great honour for me, sir, but—"

      "I expect it; besides are you not almost a member of my family?"

      François Bouillot bowed and left the room; after ordering a copious breakfast, he commanded one part of the escort back to Paris; then he returned to the room, followed by the landlord, who, in a second, covered the table with all that was wanted to make a good meal, and withdrew discreetly, leaving his guests to attack the dishes placed before them.

      The journey was continued without any incident worthy of note.

      The prisoner's conversation with his keeper had been decisive; the latter was too well acquainted with the character of the man with whom he had to deal to attempt to revert to a subject which had been so distinctly disposed of on the first occasion.

      At the period when our history takes place, France was not as now intersected by magnificent roads, and the shortest journey demanded an enormous expenditure of time; the coaches, heavy vehicles badly built and worse horsed, had great difficulty in resisting the numerous joltings and the ruts in which they were for the greater portion of the time buried up to the axletree, and hence, in spite of the speed employed, seventeen days elapsed ere the prisoner and his escort arrived at Toulon.

      This town was even at that early period one of the principal military ports of France, and the Count felt an indescribable pang at heart when he entered it.

      It was in this town that his naval career had begun, here for the first time he had set foot aboard a vessel with the rank of midshipman, and had undergone the preparatory trials of that rude naval profession, in which, in spite of his youth, he soon attained a great reputation and almost celebrity.

      The coach stopped in the Haymarket, in front of the "Cross of Malta," probably the oldest inn in France, for it is still in existence, although it has undergone many indispensable changes both internally and externally.

      So soon as he had installed his prisoner comfortably in the Inn, François Bouillot went out.

      If he placed a sentry before the Count's door, it was rather in obedience to his duty, than through any fear of escape, for he had not even taken the trouble to lock the door, so convinced was he beforehand that unfortunately his prisoner would not attempt to pass out of it.

      He remained away for about two hours.

      "You have been absent a long time," the Count remarked on his return.

      "I had some important business to settle," he replied.

      The Count, without adding a word, resumed his walk up and down the room which Bouillot's return had interrupted.

      There was a momentary silence, Bouillot was evidently embarrassed, he went about the room, pretending to arrange sundry articles of furniture, and disarranging everything; at last seeing that the Count obstinately remained silent and would not perceive that he was in the room, he placed himself in front of him so as to bar his passage, and looked at him intently as he whispered with a stress on the words.

      "You do not ask where I have been."

      "What is the use?" the Count replied carelessly; "About your own business, of course."

      "No, my lord, about yours."

      "Ah!" he said.

      "Yes, the Seamew awaits you."

      The Count smiled and slightly shrugged his shoulders.

      "Ah, ah, you are still thinking of that; I believed, my dear Bouillot, that it was arranged between us that we should not return to this subject. That was the reason, then, that you lengthened our journey, by making us pass through Toulon, at which I felt surprised. I could not account for the strange itinerary you were following."

      "My lord," he muttered, clasping his hands imploringly.

      "Come, you are mad, my dear Bouillot, you ought to know by this time, though, that when I have formed a resolution, good or bad, I never alter it; so no more of this, I beg, it would be quite useless. I pledge you my word as a gentleman."

      The old servant uttered a groan that resembled a death rattle.

      "Your will be done, my lord," he stammered. "When do we start for Antibes?"

      "At once, if you wish it."

      "Very good, the sooner the better."

      After bowing, the exempt left the room to make all preparations for departure.

      As we see, the parts were completely introverted, it was the prisoner who gave orders to his keeper.

      One hour later, in fact, the Count quitted Toulon. All along the road the two men, constantly companions, and eating and drinking together, conversed about indifferent matters. Bouillot had at last recognized the fact that it was useless to make any further effort to induce the Count to escape; still he had not given up his scheme, but merely deferred it till a more distant period, reckoning as an ally the annoyance of a prolonged detention, and an inactive and useless life upon an organization so impetuous as that of the prisoner.

      So soon as he arrived at Antibes, by the express command of the Count, who seemed to take a certain pleasure in tormenting him, he set out in search of some boat to carry them across to Sainte Marguerite.

      His search was neither long nor difficult; as bearer of a Cardinal's order, he laid an embargo on the first fishing boat he came across, and embarked aboard it with all his people.

      On leaving the mainland, the Count turned, and a smile of peculiar meaning played round his lips.

      Bouillot, deceived by this smile, whose secret intention he did not penetrate, bent down to the Count's ear.

      "If you like, there is still time," he whispered.

      The Count looked at him, shrugged his shoulders, and without replying, sat down in the stern of the boat.

      "Push off," Bouillot then shouted to the master.

      The latter seized his boathook, and they were soon under weigh.

      The Lerins islands form a group composed of several rocks, and two islands surrounded by shoals; the first known as Isle Sainte Marguerite, the second as Saint Honorat.

      At the period of our narration only the first was fortified; the other, inhabited by a few fishermen, merely contained the still considerable ruins of the monastery founded by Saint Honorat circa the year 400.

      The Sainte Marguerite island was uninhabited, flat, and only offering along its entire coast, one very unsafe creek for vessels. Although it is extremely fertile, and pomegranates, orange and fig trees, grow there in the open air, no one had thought of taking up his abode there, and we are not aware whether a change has since taken place.

      A very important fortress, which, at a later date, attained a melancholy reputation as a state prison, was erected on the island, the greater portion of which it occupied.

      This fort was composed of three towers, connected together by terraces, which time had covered with a yellowish moss, while a wide deep moat surrounded the walls.

      A few years prior to the beginning of our story, in 1635, the Spaniards had seized it by surprise.

      The Cardinal, in order to prevent the repetition of such a calamity, had judged it advisable to protect the fort from a coup de main, by placing there a garrison of fifty picked soldiers, commanded by a major performing the duties of governor. He was an old officer of fortune, whom this post served as a retreat, and who, far from the cares of the world, led a perfect canonical life, thanks to a tacit understanding with the smugglers, who alone cast anchor in these parts.

      The officer who commanded the fort at this moment was an old gentleman, tall, thin, and wizened, with harsh features, who had had a leg and arm cut off. His name was Monsieur de l'Oursière; he was constantly scolding and abusing his subordinates,

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