Hadji left Erebus on board this vessel, and returned to the chebec to carry out the orders of Pog.

The Bohemian set sail and was out of the bay before Reine and Stephanette knew that he had returned.

After a few tacks, he distinguished perfectly the commander's black galley and Captain Trinquetaille's polacre to his windward. The two vessels were coming from La Ciotat. A few words will explain their presence in sight of the bay, and how they had been able to follow the track of the pirates.

CHAPTER x.x.xVIII. THE THREE BROTHERS

Pierre des Anbiez arrived at Cape l'Aigle at the break of day. Scarcely had the black galley anch.o.r.ed in the port of La Ciotat, when the commander and his brother descended to the sh.o.r.e.

Everywhere they saw marks of the pirate's barbarity.

The weeping inhabitants then knew all the extent of their losses. Each family had learned which one of its members had perished or had been taken captive.

During the battle, they thought only of defending themselves and repulsing the enemy; then, too, night had veiled the disasters which day revealed in all their horror. On one side, walls blackened by the conflagration barely supported the tottering carpentry.

Farther on was the town hall, of which only the walls remained. Its windows were broken, its balcony demolished, its doors burned to ashes, its foundations charred, and showers of b.a.l.l.s everywhere proved that the citizens had defended themselves with vigorous earnestness.

The large square of La Ciotat, the theatre of the most murderous conflict of that fatal night, was covered with dead bodies.

Nothing could be more heartrending than to see the afflicted inhabitants seeking a father, a brother, a son, or a friend among these dead.

When they recognised one whom they sought, the others, petrified with grief, would look on in silence; again, some would utter impotent cries for vengeance; and some in their wild lamentation would rush to the port, as if they would there find the galleys of the lawless brigands.

The commander and Father Elzear walked through this scene of desolation, speaking words of consolation to the unfortunate sufferers, and asking information of Raimond V.

They learned that he had made a most valuable and courageous defence, by attacking the pirates at the head of the company from Maison-Forte, but no one could tell them if the baron was wounded or not.

The two brothers, in their anxiety, hastened to Maison-Forte, followed by a few subordinate officers of the galley, and by Luquin Trinquetaille, who had also anch.o.r.ed his polacre in the port.

They arrived at the Castle des Anbiez. The bridge was lowered, and the great court deserted, although it was the hour for work.

They mounted the stairs in haste, and reached the immense hall in which the pious Christmas ceremonies had taken place the evening before.

All the inmates of Maison-Forte, men, women, old people, and children, were kneeling in this vast hall, where reigned the most profound silence.

So absorbed was this crowd in its devotions, and so anxiously did they watch the half-open door of the baron's chamber, that not one perceived the entrance of the commander and Father Elzear.

At the bottom of the hall, under the dais, was the cradle, the masterpiece of Dame Dulceline and the good chaplain. A few candles still burned in the copper chandeliers. The colossal Christmas log was smoking in the depth of the vast chimney, still ornamented with green branches and fruits and flowers and ribbons.

Nothing seemed more startling than this scene lighted by the first pale rays of a winter day; nothing more painful than the contrast between the feast of the night and the sorrow of the morning.

After having contemplated this quiet and imposing scene, the commander gently called aside some of the baron's va.s.sals to open a way to the door of the baron's chamber.

"Monseigneur, the commander, and good Father Elzear!" were the words which circulated among the anxious crowd, as they waited for news of the baron's condition, whether or not his wounds permitted them to indulge a hope for his recovery.

Pierre des Anbiez and his brother, with a soft and cautious tread, entered the chamber of Raimond V.

The old gentleman, still dressed in his holiday attire, even to his long boots, was lying on his bed. His venerable face was livid, and his flowing white locks were stained with blood.

Abbe Mascarolus was dressing the wounds in his head, a.s.sisted in this pious duty by Honorat de Berrol. Dame Dulceline, whose tears never ceased to flow, was cutting cloth bands, while the majordomo Laramee, standing at the foot of the bed, apparently unconscious of all around him, was sobbing aloud.

So absorbed were the actors in this sad scene, that Father Elzear and Pierre des Anbiez entered unperceived.

"My brother!" cried the commander and the priest at the same time, falling on their knees at the bedside of the baron, and kissing his cold hands affectionately.

"Are the wounds serious, abbe?" said the commander, while Father Elzear remained on his knees.

"Alas! is it you, M. Commander?" said the chaplain, clasping his hands in surprise; "if only you had arrived yesterday all these misfortunes would not have happened, and monseigneur would not be in danger of death."

"Great G.o.d!" cried Pierre des Anbiez, "we must send at once for Brother Anselm, the surgeon on board my galley. He will a.s.sist you; he understands wounds made by weapons of war."

Seeing Luquin Trinquetaille at the door, the commander said to him: "Go immediately for Brother Anselm, and bring him here."

Luquin disappeared to execute the commander's orders. The abbe was anxiously listening to the laboured breathing of the baron. Finally, the wounded man made a light movement, turned his head from the chaplain without opening his eyes, and uttered a long sigh. The commander and the priest gazed inquiringly into the chaplain's face, who made a sign of approval, and took advantage of the baron's position to dress another part of the wounds.

Father Elzear, disappointed at not seeing Reine at her father's bedside at such a time, said, in a low voice to Honorat: "And where is Reine? The poor child no doubt cannot endure this painful sight!"

"Great G.o.d!" cried Honorat, in astonishment, "and do you not know, Father Elzear, all the misfortunes which have befallen this house?

Reine has been carried off by the pirates!"

Father Elzear and the commander looked at each other, bewildered.

"My G.o.d! my G.o.d! spare his old age this last blow!" said the priest, clasping his hands in supplication, and looking up to heaven. "Grant us the power to take this unfortunate child from their hands!"

"And does no one know to what point these pirates have fled?" said the commander, his wrath beyond all bounds. "Inquire of the boats that arrive; the night was clear, and they must be able to give us some information." "Alas!" said Honorat, "I have just arrived at Maison-Forte, which I and the baron's guests left that night in peace.

I was ignorant of all these disasters. When the baron was brought home unconscious, the good abbe sent for me in haste, and I came, finding him in this desperate state, and his va.s.sals informed me of the abduction of Mlle, des Anbiez."

Raimond V. still lay unconscious. From time to time he uttered a feeble sigh, and then relapsed into a lethargic torpor.

The commander anxiously awaited the coming of the surgeon from his galley, as he thought his medical attainments superior to those of the chaplain.

Finally he arrived, followed by Luquin Trinquetaille, who, notwithstanding the profound silence guarded by the watchers around the wounded man, cried out to the commander, as he entered the door: "Monseigneur, the pirates must be anch.o.r.ed on the coast, twenty-five or thirty leagues from here at the most."

Pierre des Anbiez, making a sign to the worthy captain to be silent, walked up to him rapidly, and conducted him into the gallery, which the va.s.sals had just left at the chaplain's request.

"What do you say?" said he to Trinquetaille. "Who told you that?"

"Monseigneur, the c.o.xswain Nicard told me. That night he pa.s.sed very near to two galleys and a chebec, which hugged the sh.o.r.e, and he easily recognised the _Red Galleon_. These vessels were moving very, very slowly, as if they had been so badly damaged as to be compelled to halt every few minutes in some deserted harbour on the coast."

"That must be so," said the commander, thoughtfully, "they must have been seriously crippled to stay near the sh.o.r.e, instead of flying south with their captives and their booty."

"There is no doubt, monseigneur, that the culverin of Maison-Forte did them great damage, for Pierron, the fisherman, told me that he saw them fire that artillery the whole time the galleys of those demons were doubling the point of the island Verte, and that pa.s.s is a fine aim for the culverin; Master Laramee has told me so a thousand times."

"The vengeance of the Lord will overtake these robbers, glutted with blood and pillage," said the commander, in a hollow voice. "Perhaps I shall be able to s.n.a.t.c.h my brother's unfortunate daughter from their hands."

"And also her attendant, Stephanette, if you please, monseigneur,"