"The Caribbean is in reality the filibuster, or rather the buccaneer and the Caribbean are----"

"Ah, there you go again; do you wish that I should retain my senses?"

cried the Gascon, making a desperate effort and running toward the door in order to call De Chemerant.

The prince flung himself upon Croustillac, and, seizing his two wrists in one hand, placed the other over his mouth at the moment Croustillac called "Help, De Chemerant!" then he said, "I am the Duke of Monmouth!"

The prince thought the chevalier would understand everything the moment he spoke, but in the exasperation which Croustillac felt, he only saw in this statement a new artifice or a new provocation, and he redoubled his efforts to escape. Though much less strong than the duke, the chevalier was not without energy; he began to struggle violently, when Angela, terrified, ran and took up a flask, and, putting on her handkerchief a drop of the liquid, rubbed the hand of the prince, removing the stain upon it and showing the white skin.

"Do you understand now, sir, that the three persons are one?" said the prince, releasing Croustillac and showing him his white hand.

These words were a revelation to Croustillac, and he understood all.

Unfortunately, at the moment when the prince took his hand from the mouth of the Gascon, the latter had uttered the words, "Help! De Chemerant!"

The sound of the struggle had already attracted the attention of the French envoy, and, hearing the cry of Croustillac, he rushed into the room, sword in hand. It would be impossible to depict the stupefaction, the fright of the three when De Chemerant appeared. The duke put his hand upon his sword. Angela fell back into a chair and hid her face in her hands. Croustillac looked about him with an agonized air, regretting his imprudence, but too late.

Nevertheless, the adventurer's presence of mind returned to him little by little; as it needs but a ray of the sun to dispel the thick mist, so the moment that the good chevalier had the key to the three disguises of the prince, everything became clear to him. His mind, until then so sadly agitated, became calm; his unworthy doubt of Blue Beard ceased; there only remained his regret at having accused her, and the desire to devote himself to her and the prince.

With wonderful quickness of invention (we are familiar enough with the Gascon now to say with a marvelous facility for lying) Croustillac formed his plan of campaign against De Chemerant, who still, sword in hand, stood on the threshold and said for the second time, "What is it, your highness? what has happened? I thought I heard a cry and struggle, and an appeal for aid."

"You were not deceived, sir," said Croustillac gloomily.

Monmouth and his wife experienced a terrible anxiety. They were ignorant of the Gascon's intentions; knowing Monmouth's secret, he was now completely master of their fate.

If Angela and her husband had had enough presence of mind to scrutinize Croustillac's face, they would have seen a kind of triumphant and malignant joy, which betrayed itself in spite of him in the menacing frown of his forehead.

Monsieur De Chemerant asked him a third time why he had called.

"I called you, sir," said the chevalier in a dismal voice, and with the air of coming out of a deep study, "I called you to my aid----"

"Was it this wretch? your highness," said the envoy, pointing to Monmouth, who, standing with arms crossed, remained by the chair where Angela had seated herself, ready to defend her and to sell his life dearly, for, as we have said, he was ignorant of the adventurer's intention. "Speak the word, your highness," continued De Chemerant, "and I will hand him over to my guards."

The Gascon shook his head, and answered, "I charge myself with this man; this is my affair. It is not against such a creature as this that I called you to my a.s.sistance, sir, it is against myself."

"What do you say, your highness?"

"I mean that I was afraid that I would allow myself to be softened by the tears of his woman, as dangerously hypocritical as she is audaciously culpable."

"Your highness, it often takes courage--much courage--to be just."

"You are right, sir; that is why I feared my weakness. I called you in order that the sight of you might keep alive my indignation and rekindle my wrath, for you have been a witness of my dishonor, sir. So, tell me that if I pardon I would be a coward, that I should merit my fate. Is it not so, sir?"

"Your highness----"

"I understand you--you are right--yes, by St. George!" Croustillac remembered having heard the prince use this oath; "by St. George, I will be revenged."

Angela and the duke breathed again. They understood that the chevalier wished to save them.

"Your highness," said De Chemerant severely, "I do not hesitate to repeat to your highness, before madame, what I had the honor to say to you some short time ago, that an insurmountable barrier now separates you from a guilty spouse," continued the envoy, with an effort, while Angela hid her confusion by covering her face with her handkerchief.

Croustillac raised his head, and cried in a heartbroken tone, "Deceived by a mulatto; think of it, sir, a miserable mulatto, a mongrel, a copper-colored animal!"

"Your highness----"

"In a word, sir," said Croustillac, turning toward the envoy with an indignant and sorrowful manner, "you know why I returned, what my plans were; what I would have placed upon the brow of madame. Ah, well, is it not a frightful irony of fate that at this very moment a wife--a criminal----"

"Your highness," cried De Chemerant, interrupting the Gascon, "at present these projects must be a secret from madame."

"I know it; I know it! but then what a horrible surprise! I enter with a heart beating with joy, into the home circle, into my peaceful home, and what is it that I hear?"

"Your highness----"

"You have heard it as well as I. That is not all--what is it that I see?"

"Your highness, calm yourself."

"You have seen, as I have, a mulatto outlaw. But this shall not stop here, no, by St. George! Yes, I did well to call you. Now my anger boils; the most cruel plans crowd in upon my imagination. Yes, yes, that is it;" said Croustillac, with a meditative air. "I have it at last! I have found a revenge fitting the offence!"

"Your highness, the contempt----"

"The contempt--that is very easy for you to say, sir, contempt. No, sir, there remains another thing; I have found something better, and you shall a.s.sist me."

"Your highness, anything that depends upon my zeal, without prejudice to the orders which I have received, and the success of my mission."

"I renounce and cast off this unworthy woman. From this day, from this moment, all is forever at an end between her and me."

"Thank G.o.d!" cried De Chemerant, delighted with this resolve; "you could not act more wisely."

"To-morrow at daybreak," said the Gascon, in a curt tone, "she and her odious accomplice will embark on board of one of my vessels."

CHAPTER XXVI.

DEVOTION.

"Yes, sir!" repeated the Gascon, "to-morrow my wife and this miserable wretch shall go aboard one of my vessels. That is all my vengeance,"

continued he, dwelling on these words with savage irony. "Oh, I know what I am doing. Yes, by heaven! She and her guilty accomplice, those two, as if they were really husband and wife, the miserable wretches!

shall embark together. As to the destination of the vessel," said the chevalier, with a glance of such horrible ferocity that De Chemerant was struck by it, "as to the fate that awaits these guilty ones, I cannot tell you, sir; that concerns no one but myself."

Then, taking Angela roughly by the arm, Croustillac exclaimed, "Ah, you desire a mulatto for a lover, d.u.c.h.ess? very well, you shall have him.

And you, scoundrel, you must have a white woman, a d.u.c.h.ess? very well you shall have her. You shall never separate, tender lovers that you are, never again; but you do not know at what a terrible price you will be reunited."

"Your highness, what do you intend to do?"

"That is my affair; your responsibility will be at an end; the rest will take place on neutral ground," returned the Gascon with a smile at once mysterious and ferocious; "yes, on a desert island; and since this tender couple love one another, love each other to death, there will be time for them to prove it--until death."