A Ladder of Swords: A Tale of Love, Laughter and Tears

by Gilbert Parker

  III

  For weeks De la Foret and Buonespoir had lain in hiding at St.Brieuc. At last Buonespoir declared all was ready once again. He hadsecured for the Camisard the passport and clothes of a priest who hadbut just died at Granville. Once again they made the attempt to reachEnglish soil.

  Standing out from Carteret on the _Belle Suzanne_, they steered forthe light upon the Marmotier Rocks of the Ecrehos, which Angele hadpaid a fisherman to keep going every night. This light had caused theFrench and English frigates some uneasiness, and they had patrolledthe Channel from Cap de la Hague to the Bay of St. Brieuc with avigilance worthy of a larger cause. One fine day an English frigateanchored off the Ecrehos, and the fisherman was seized. He, poorman, swore that he kept the light burning to guide his brotherfishermen to and fro between Boulay Bay and the Ecrehos. The captainof the frigate tried severities; but the fisherman stuck to his tale,and the light burned on as before--a lantern stuck upon a pole. Oneday, with a telescope, Buonespoir had seen the exact position of thestaff supporting the light and had mapped out his course accordingly.He would head straight for the beacon and pass between the Marmotierand the Maitre Ile, where is a narrow channel for a boat drawing onlya few feet of water. Unless he made this he must run south and skirtthe Ecriviere Rock and bank, where the streams setting over the sandyridges make a confusing, perilous sea to mariners in bad weather. Orhe must sail north between the Ecrehos and the Dirouilles, in thechannel called Etoc, a tortuous and dangerous passage save in goodweather, and then safe only to the mariner who knows the floor ofthat strait like his own hand. De la Foret was wholly in the handsof Buonespoir, for he knew nothing of these waters and coasts; alsohe was a soldier and no sailor.

  They cleared Cape Carteret with a fair wind from the northeast, whichshould carry them safely as the bird flies to the haven of Rozel. Thehigh, pinkish sands of Hatainville were behind them; the treacherousTaillepied rocks lay to the north, and a sweet sea before. Nothingcould have seemed fairer and more hopeful. But a few old fishermen onshore at Carteret shook their heads dubiously, and at Port Bail, somemiles below, a disabled naval officer, watching through a glass,rasped out, "Criminals or fools!" But he shrugged his shoulders, forif they were criminals he was sure they would expiate their crimesthis night, and if they were fools--he had no pity for fools.

  But Buonespoir knew his danger. Truth is, he had chosen this nightbecause they would be safest from pursuit, because no sensibleseafaring man, were he king's officer or another, would venture forthupon the impish Channel save to court disaster. Pirate and soldierin priest's garb had frankly taken the chances.

  With a fair wind they might, with all canvas set--mainsail, foresail,jib, and foretopsail--make Rozel Bay within two hours and a quarter.All seemed well for a brief half-hour. Then, even as the passagebetween the Marmotier and the Ecrehos opened out, the wind suddenlyshifted from the northeast to the southwest and a squall camehurrying on them--a few moments too soon; for, had they been clear ofthe Ecrehos, clear of the Taillepieds, Felee Bank, and the Ecriviere,they could have stood out towards the north in a more open sea.

  Yet there was one thing in their favor: the tide was now running hardfrom the northwest, so fighting for them while the wind was againstthem. Their only safety lay in getting beyond the Ecrehos. If theyattempted to run in to the Marmotier for safety, they would presentlybe at the mercy of the French. To trust their doubtful fortunes andbear on was the only way. The tide was running fast. They gave themainsail to the wind still more, and bore on towards the passage. Atlast, as they were opening on it, the wind suddenly veered fullnortheast. The sails flapped, the boat seemed to hover for a moment,and then a wave swept her towards the rocks. Buonespoir put the helmhard over, she went about, and they close-hauled her as she trembledtowards the rocky opening.

  This was the critical instant. A heavy sea was running, the gale wasblowing hard from the northeast, and under the close-hauled sail the_Belle Suzanne_ was lying over dangerously. But the tide, too, wasrunning hard from the south, fighting the wind, and at the momentwhen all seemed terribly uncertain swept them past the opening andinto the swift-running channel, where the indraught sucked themthrough to the more open water beyond.

  Although the _Belle Suzanne_ was in more open water now, the dangerwas not over. Ahead lay a treacherous sea, around them roaring winds,and the perilous coast of Jersey beyond all.

  "Do you think we shall land?" quietly asked De la Foret, noddingtowards the Jersey coast.

  "As many chances 'gainst it as for it, m'sieu'," said Buonespoir,turning his face to the north, for the wind had veered again tonortheast, and he feared its passing to the northwest, giving them ahead-wind and a swooping sea.

  Night came down, but with a clear sky and a bright moon, the wind,however, not abating. The next three hours were spent in tacking, inbeating towards the Jersey coast under seas which almost swampedthem. They were standing off about a mile from the island, and couldsee lighted fires and groups of people upon the shore, when suddenlya gale came out from the southwest, the wind having again shifted.With an oath Buonespoir put the helm hard over, the _Belle Suzanne_came about quickly, but as the gale struck her the mast snapped likea pencil, she heeled over, and the two adventurers were engulfed inthe waves.

  A cry of dismay went up from the watchers on the shore. They turnedwith a half-conscious sympathy towards Angele, for her story wasknown by all, and in her face they read her mortal fear, though shemade no cry, but only clasped her hands in agony. Her heart told herthat yonder Michel de la Foret was fighting for his life. For aninstant only she stood, the terror of death in her eyes, then sheturned to the excited fishermen near.

  "Men, oh men!" she cried, "will you not save them? Will no one comewith me?"

  Some shook their heads sullenly, others appeared uncertain, but theirwives and children clung to them, and none stirred. Looking roundhelplessly, Angele saw the tall figure of the Seigneur of Rozel. Hehad been watching the scene for some time. Now he came quickly toher.

  "Is it the very man?" he asked her, jerking a finger towards thestruggling figures in the sea.

  "Yes, oh yes," she replied, nodding her head, piteously. "God tellsmy heart it is." Her father drew near and interposed.

  "'LET US KNEEL AND PRAY FOR TWO DYING MEN'"]

  "Let us kneel and pray for two dying men," said he, and straightwayknelt upon the sand.

  "By St. Martin, we've better medicine than that, apothecary!" saidLempriere of Rozel, loudly, and, turning round, summoned twoserving-men. "Launch my strong boat," he added. "We will pick thesegentlemen from the brine or know the end of it all."

  The men hurried gloomily to the long boat, ran her down to the shoreand into the surf.

  "You are going--you are going to save him, dear seigneur?" asked thegirl, tremulously.

  "To save him--that's to be seen, mistress," answered Lempriere, andadvanced to the fishermen. By dint of hard words and as heartyencouragement and promises, he got a half-dozen strong sailors to manthe boat.

  A moment after, they were all in. At a motion from the seigneur theboat was shot out into the surf, and a cheer from the shore gaveheart to De la Foret and Buonespoir, who were being driven upon therocks.

  The Jerseymen rowed gallantly, and the seigneur, to give them heart,promised a shilling, a capon, and a gallon of beer to each if therescue was made. Again and again the two men seemed to sink beneaththe sea, and again and again they came to the surface and battledfurther, torn, battered, and bloody, but not beaten. Cries of, "We'recoming, gentles, we're coming!" from the Seigneur of Rozel cameringing through the surf to the dulled ears of the drowning men, andthey struggled on.

  There never was a more gallant rescue. Almost at their last gasp thetwo were rescued.

  "Mistress Aubert sends you welcome, sir, if you be Michel de laForet," said Lempriere of Rozel, and offered the fugitive his horn ofliquor as he lay blown and beaten in the boat.

  "I am he," De la Foret answered. "I owe you my life, monsieur," headded.r />
  Lempriere laughed. "You owe it to the lady; and I doubt you canproperly pay the debt," he answered, with a toss of the head; forhad not the lady refused him, the Seigneur of Rozel, six feet six inheight, and all else in proportion, while this gentleman was scarcesix feet.

  "We can have no quarrel upon the point," answered De la Foret,reaching out his hand; "you have at least done tough work for her,and if I cannot pay in gold I can in kind. It was a generous deed,and it has made a friend forever of Michel de la Foret."

  "Raoul Lempriere of Rozel they call me, Michel de la Foret, and, byRollo the Duke, but I'll take your word in the way of friendship, asthe lady yonder takes it for riper fruit! Though, faith, 'tis fruitof a short summer, to my thinking."

  All this while Buonespoir the pirate, his face covered with blood,had been swearing by the little finger of St. Peter that eachJerseyman there should have the half of a keg of rum. He went so farin gratitude as to offer the price of ten sheep which he had oncesecretly raided from the Seigneur of Rozel and sold in France, forwhich he had been seized on his later return to the island and hadescaped without punishment.

  Hearing, Lempriere of Rozel roared at him in anger: "Durst speak tome! For every fleece you thieved I'll have you flayed with bowstringsif ever I sight your face within my boundaries."

  "Then I'll fetch and carry no more for M'sieu' of Rozel," saidBuonespoir, in an offended tone, but grinning under his reddishbeard.

  "When didst fetch and carry for me, varlet?" Lempriere roared again.

  "When the Seigneur of Rozel fell from his horse, overslung with sack,the night of the royal duke's visit, and the footpads were on him, Icarried him on my back to the lodge of Rozel Manor. The footpads hadscores to settle with the great Rozel."

  For a moment the seigneur stared, then roared again, but this timewith laughter.

  "By the devil and Rollo, I have sworn to this hour that there was noman in the isle could have carried me on his shoulders. And I wasright, for Jersiais you're none, neither by adoption nor grace, buta citizen of the sea."

  He laughed again as a wave swept over them, drenching them, and asudden squall of wind came out of the north. "There's no better headin the isle than mine for measurement and thinking, and I swore noman under eighteen stone could carry me, and I am twenty-five--I takeyou to be nineteen stone, eh?"

  "Nineteen, less two ounces," grinned Buonespoir.

  "I'll laugh De Carteret of St. Ouen's out of his stockings overthis," answered Lempriere. "Trust me for knowing weights andmeasures! Look you, varlet, thy sins be forgiven thee. I care notabout the fleeces, if there be no more stealing. St. Ouen's has nohead--I said no one man in Jersey could have done it--I'm heavier bythree stone than any man in the island."

  Thereafter there was little speaking among them, for the danger wasgreater as they neared the shore. The wind and the sea were againstthem; the tide, however, was in their favor. Others besides M.Aubert offered up prayers for the safe landing of the rescued andrescuers. Presently an ancient fisherman broke out into a rudesailor's chantey, and every voice, even those of the two Huguenots,took it up:

  "When the Four Winds, the Wrestlers, strive with the Sun, When the Sun is slain in the dark; When the stars burn out, and the night cries To the blind sea-reapers, and they rise, And the water-ways are stark-- God save us when the reapers reap! When the ships sweep in with the tide to the shore, And the little white boats return no more; When the reapers reap, Lord give Thy sailors sleep, If Thou cast us not upon the shore, To bless Thee evermore: To walk in Thy sight as heretofore Though the way of the Lord be steep! By Thy grace, Show Thy face, Lord of the land and the deep!"

  The song stilled at last. It died away in the roar of the surf, inthe happy cries of foolish women and the laughter of men back from adangerous adventure. As the seigneur's boat was drawn up the shoreAngele threw herself into the arms of Michel de la Foret, the soldierdressed as a priest.

  Lempriere of Rozel stood abashed before this rich display of feeling.In his hottest youth he could not have made such passionate motionsof affection. His feelings ran neither high nor broad, but neitherdid they run low and muddy. His nature was a straight level ofsensibility--a rough stream between high banks of prejudice, toppedwith the foam of vanity, now brawling in season, and now going steadyand strong to the sea. Angele had come to feel what he was beneaththe surface. She felt how unimaginative he was, and how his humor,which was but the horse-play of vanity, helped him little tounderstand the world or himself. His vanity was ridiculous, hisself-importance was against knowledge or wisdom; and Heaven had givenhim a small brain, a big and noble heart, a pedigree back to Rollo,and the absurd pride of a little lord in a little land. Angele knewall this, but realized also that he had offered her all he was ableto offer to any woman.

  She went now and put out both hands to him. "I shall ever pray God'sblessing on the Lord of Rozel," she said, in a low voice.

  "'Twould fit me no better than St. Ouen's sword fits his fingers.I'll take thine own benison, lady--but on my cheek, not on my hand asthis day before at four of the clock." His big voice lowered. "Come,come, the hand thou kissed, it hath been the hand of a friend tothee, as Raoul Lempriere of Rozel said he'd be. Thy lips upon hischeek, though it be but a rough fellow's fancy, and I warrant, comegood, come ill, Rozel's face will never be turned from thee. Pooh,pooh! let yon soldier-priest shut his eyes a minute; this is 'tweenme and thee; and what's done before the world's without shame."

  He stopped short, his black eyes blazing with honest mirth andkindness, his breath short, having spoken in such haste.

  Her eyes could scarce see him, so full of tears were they, and,standing on tiptoe, she kissed him upon each cheek.

  "'Tis much to get for so little given," she said, with a quiver inher voice; "yet this price for friendship would be too high to pay toany save the Seigneur of Rozel."

  She hastily turned to the men who had rescued Michel and Buonespoir."If I had riches, riches ye should have, brave men of Jersey," shesaid, "but I have naught save love and thanks, and my prayers, too,if ye will have them."

  "'Tis a man's duty to save his fellow an' he can," cried a gauntfisherman, whose daughter was holding to his lips a bowl of congereelsoup.

  "'Twas a good deed to send us forth to save a priest of Holy Church,"cried a weazened boat-builder with a giant's arm, as he buried hisface in a cup of sack and plunged his hand into a fishwife's basketof limpets.

  "Ay, but what means she by kissing and arm-getting with a priest?"cried a snarling vraic-gatherer. "'Tis some jest upon Holy Church, oryon priest is no better than common men, but an idle shame."

  By this time Michel was among them. "Priest I am none, but asoldier," he said, in a loud voice, and told them bluntly the reasonsfor his disguise; then, taking a purse from his pocket, thrust intothe hands of his rescuers and their families pieces of silver andgave them brave words of thanks.

  But the seigneur was not to be outdone in generosity. His vanity ranhigh; he was fain to show Angele what a gorgeous gentleman she hadfailed to make her own; and he was in ripe good-humor all round.

  "Come, ye shall come, all of ye, to the Manor of Rozel, every man andwoman here. Ye shall be fed, and fuddled too ye shall be an' ye will;for honest drink which sends to honest sleep hurts no man. To mykitchen with ye all; and you, messieurs"--turning to M. Aubert and Dela Foret--"and you, mademoiselle, come, know how open is the door andfull the table at my Manor of Rozel--St. Ouen's keeps a beggarlyboard."