Accident led him to the mouth of the Rio Trinidad, a few miles from the spot where Galveston was built at a later date, in a wild and uninhabited country, whose appearance attracted him at the first glance.

Like the old pirate he was, the Count admired the magnificent block of granite that commanded the entrance of the bay he had put into; and, seeing the importance of a citadel built on this rock, and the power it would eventually give his family, he resolved to form his nest there.

When his choice was made, the pirate had his vessel drawn ash.o.r.e, camped with his men at the foot of the rock, and began reflecting on the means of carrying out his bold scheme. A good many things troubled him--in the first place, where should he procure the stones necessary for such an edifice; and if the stones were found, where should he get the masons to put them together.

Count Estevan de Sourdis and his comrades were excellent sailors--killing, pillaging, and ravishing conscientiously each time that the opportunity offered itself; but, as a general rule, they were very poor masons, and nothing of architects. And then again, supposing the stones were found, squared, and brought to the foot of the rock, how were they to be raised to the top? This was really the insurmountable difficulty; and any other than the bold pirate would have renounced the execution of a plan which he recognised as impossible.

But the Count was obstinate; he said to himself with a certain show of reason, that the greater the difficulties to overcome, the stronger and better protected from attack his castle would be.

In consequence, far from recoiling, he armed his people with iron crowbars, and began forming in the rock a path which wound round it and was to finish at the summit. This path, three feet wide at the most, was so steep and abrupt, that the slightest false step sufficed to hurl those who ventured on it down an abyss, at the bottom of which they were crushed to death. After a year of superhuman toil, the path was formed, and the count, scaling it on his horse, at the risk of breaking his neck one hundred times, planted his banner on the top of the rock, with a shout of pride and joy.

Another cry answered his, but it was so ironical and mocking that the old pirate, whose nerves were as hard as cords, and who had never trembled in his life, felt a shudder of terror run over all his limbs; his hair stood erect in horror, and an icy perspiration beaded on his temples.

The Count turned round; a man wrapped in a large black cloak, and with a red plumed hat on his head, was standing by his side. The man's face was ashy, his eyes glistened with a gloomy fire, and his parched up lips grimaced a mournful smile. The Count regarded him for a moment with surprise; but as, after all, he was a brave sailor who feared nothing in the world, he asked the stranger, in a firm voice, who he was, and how he happened to be at this spot. To these two questions the unknown answered politely that he had heard say that the Count de Sourdis was seeking an architect capable of building him a strong and handsome castle, and that he had come to treat with him. The chieftain bowed courteously, and the following dialogue took place between the speakers.

"Do you not think, master," the pirate said, "that this spot is excellently chosen for the place I meditate?"

"Excellency," the stranger replied, "you could not have found a better site all along the coast."

The pirate smiled proudly.

"Yes," he said, "and when my castle is built, no one will be able to a.s.sail it."

"Oh, of course."

"Look here," he continued, making the stranger a sign to follow him, "this is what I propose doing."

And walking round the plateau, he described the plan in its fullest details: the stranger approved of it by nodding his head and smiling his crafty smile. In the meanwhile time was pa.s.sing: for about an hour day had given way to night, and gloom had gradually invaded the rock; the pirate, carried away by the irresistible attraction a man ever feels in ventilating his ideas, specially to a person who seems to approve of them, continued his demonstrations without noticing that the darkness had grown too dense for the person he was addressing to derive great profit from what he was saying; at length he turned to the stranger.

"Well," he asked him, "what do you think of it?"

"It is perfect," the other answered.

"Is it not?" the Chief asked, with an air of conviction.

"Yes, but--"

"Ah," said the pirate, "there is a but then?"

"There is always one," the stranger objected judiciously.

"That is true," the old pirate muttered.

"You are aware that I am an architect?"

"You told me so."

"Well, I have made a plan too."

"Indeed, indeed!"

"Yes, if you will permit me, Excellency, I shall have the honour of submitting it to you."

"Do so, my dear fellow, do so," the Chief said with a condescending smile, for he was convinced in his heart that his plan was the better of the two.

"Directly."

"But I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"Why, it is rather dark, and in order to judge of your plan--"

"A light would be necessary, I suppose you mean, Excellency."

"Why yes," the pirate replied, "I fancy it would prove useful."

"Pray do not put yourself out of the way," said the stranger, "I will procure one."

With the greatest possible coolness, he took off the feather that adorned his hat, and stuck it in the ground, when it suddenly burst into a flame, just as if it had been a torch. The Count was astounded at this marvel, but as, after all, he was a good Christian, and he was beginning to distrust his companion considerably, he mechanically prepared to cross himself. But the stranger eagerly caught hold of his arm.

"Let us lose no time, Excellency," he said.

And drawing a roll of parchment from under his cloak he unrolled and laid it before the pirate, who was in extasies at the magnificent plan he saw.

"What do you, think of that, Excellency?" the architect said, in a sweet, bitter voice.

"Sublime!" he exclaimed, transported with admiration.

"You are a judge," the other answered, "this is what I propose doing."

And in his turn he began entering into the most minute details, to which the old sailor listened with gaping mouth and flashing eyes, never leaving off looking at the splendid fortress drawn on the parchment.

When the architect ceased speaking, the pirate was so confounded by all he had heard, that he remained for a moment stunned, and tried in vain to restore the regular flow of his thoughts.

"Well," he at last asked with a certain shade of incredulity, which involuntarily betrayed itself in his voice, "do you fancy yourself capable of carrying out such a masterpiece?"

"Nothing is easier."

"But we have no building stones."

"I will find them."

"I have no masons."

"I will procure them."

"But iron, wood--in a word, all the articles necessary for such a building, how to procure them?"

"I will take it on myself."