[Marianne 3] - Marianne and the Privateer

by Juliette Benzoni

  Marianne laughed, feeling again the pull of a good story which had always formed so strong an aspect of her appetite for life.

  'How many legends are there in Brittany, Jean Ledru?'

  'As many as the pebbles on the beach, I think.'

  The beam of a lighthouse shone out suddenly through the darkness, yellow as an October moon, brooding over the jumbled mass of a huge, rocky promontory nearly a hundred feet high. Their youthful captain jerked his head towards it:

  'St Mathieu's light. It is one of the westernmost points of Europe. There used to be a rich and powerful abbey there…'

  As he spoke, a faint, uncertain shaft of moonlight filtered through the clouds and showed them the skeleton of an immense church and a great range of ruined buildings spreading out before the lighthouse, giving to that bare headland so gloomy and desolate an air that the sailors crossed themselves instinctively.

  'Le Conquet is about a mile and a half to the north of here, is it not?' Vidocq asked, but Jean Ledru made no answer. He was searching the sea ahead. Then, just as the vessel rounded the point, her nose pointing out to sea, the shrill voice of the ship's boy rang out from the masthead:

  'Sail ho, on the starboard beam!'

  Everyone sat up and looked. Not more than a few cables' lengths away was the dainty outline of a brig, beating up wind with all sails flying in these perilous waters as surely as any fishing boat. Jean Ledru's voice rose above the wind: 'It's them! Get out the riding light!'

  Marianne, like the rest, was watching the beautiful craft as it bore down on them, knowing that this was the rescue ship Surcouf had promised. Only Jason had not stirred but lay still, staring up at the sky, locked in a dream of sheer exhaustion. At last Ledru spoke impatiently:

  'Well, Beaufort, take a look! It's your ship…'

  A tremor ran through the privateer and he started to his feet then and remained, clinging to the rail, staring wide-eyed at the approaching vessel.

  'The Witch!' His voice was husky with emotion. 'My Witch . ..'

  Seeing him get to his feet, Marianne had followed, instinctively, and now standing next to him, she too stared:

  'You mean – that ship is your own?'

  'Yes… she is mine! Ours, Marianne! Tonight has given me back the two things I had thought lost for ever: you, my love… and her!'

  There was such tenderness in that one short word that for a moment Marianne felt a stab of jealousy. Jason talked of the ship as he might have spoken of his own child. As if, instead of wood and metal, it had been made of his own blood and bone and his joy in looking at it was a father's joy in his child. She tightened the clasp of her hand on his, as though unconsciously trying to regain possession of him, but Jason's whole being was straining towards his ship so that he did not even seem to notice. He turned his head and looked at Jean Ledru, saying sharply:

  'Do you know who is sailing her? Whoever he is, he is a master of his trade.'

  Jean Ledru uttered a laugh of mingled pride and triumph:

  'I'll say he is! A master indeed! It is Surcouf himself! We lifted your ship for you from under the very noses of the excisemen in Morlaix river… That's what made me later than we thought getting to Brest.'

  'No,' came a quiet voice behind them. 'You did not "lift" it, as you put it. You took it, with the Emperor's knowledge. Hasn't it struck you yet that the excisemen seem unusually heavy sleepers tonight?'

  If Vidocq had been striving for theatrical effect, he had certainly achieved his aim. Forgetting the brig, whose anchor chain could be heard running out and splashing into the sea, Marianne, Jason, Jean Ledru and even Jolival, who revived abruptly, turned with one accord to look at him. It was Jason who spoke for them all:

  'With the Emperor's knowledge? What do you mean by that?'

  Vidocq leaned back against the mainmast and folded his arms, his gaze going in turn to each of the tense faces turned towards him. Then, with the silky softness which his voice was able to assume when he wished it, he replied:

  'I mean that he has given me my chance in these last months, and I am his loyal servant. My orders were to help you to escape at all costs. It has not been easy because, with the exception of our young friend here, everything, men and events, has been against me. But I had received my orders before you were even tried!'

  For a moment, no one could say a word. They stood, rendered speechless by amazement, while their eyes struggled to take in what it was that had altered in this extraordinary man. Marianne clung to Jason's arm, still trying in vain to understand, and it was perhaps because it was beyond her power to do so that she was the first to recover her voice:

  'The Emperor wanted Jason to escape? But then, why was he imprisoned, sent here…?'

  'That, Madame, he will tell you himself. It is no part of my job to reveal to you reasons of State.'

  'How can he tell me? You know that in a little while I shall have left France for good.'

  'No.'

  Marianne thought she could not have heard aright:

  'What did you say?'

  Vidocq looked at her and she saw a great compassion in his eyes, as he repeated, if possible still more gently than before: 'No. You are not going, Madame. Or not for the present, at least. As soon as Jason Beaufort has put to sea, I am to escort you back to Paris.'

  'No! She stays with me! But it's time we had a few things explained. Just who are you?'

  Gripping Marianne by the arm, Jason thrust her behind him, as though to make a shield for her of his own body. Her arms closed about him instinctively to hold him to her while he spoke to Vidocq in a voice made hard by anger. Vidocq sighed:

  'You know who I am: François Vidocq and, until tonight, a convicted felon with the law on my tracks. But this escape is my last, once and for all, because I have a new life before me now.'

  'A police spy! That's what you are!'

  'I thank you, no! I am not a police spy. But a year ago I was given my chance, by Monsieur Henry, head of the Sureté, to work inside at tracking down crimes too sordid ever to come to light in any other way. They knew I was clever – my escapes proved that. And intelligent – my instinct for the guilty party showed that soon enough. I was working inside La Force and when you turned up it didn't need more than a glance to see that you were innocent, or one look at your file to show that it was a put-up job. The Emperor must have thought the same thing because my orders came through straightway to drop everything and concentrate on you. Further instructions followed which I adjusted to the occasion. If it hadn't been for that Quixotic gesture of yours, I should have had you away on the journey.'

  'But why? What is it all about? You suffered as I did – the chain—the bagne?'

  Vidocq's rather hard face lit up in a quick smile:

  'I knew it was the last time, for your escape was to be mine also. No one is going to hunt for François Vidocq – or for Jason Beaufort, either. You have earned me the right to stop being an agent who works in secret, hidden behind prison bars and a convict's chains. From this moment, I belong openly to the Imperial police.2 Everything that was done for you, was done with my approval. One of my men followed the so-called Mademoiselle de Jolival to Surcouf's house at St Malo and, before he left the town, he made known to the baron the Emperor's wish that he should take the brig Sea Witch from Morlaix roads and sail her to a spot chosen by me, but to make it look like a real theft. As you say, I suffered everything with you. Does that look like the action of a police spy?'

  Jason's glance moved to Marianne who was still clinging to him. He could feel her whole body shuddering.

  'No,' he said dully. 'I don't suppose I shall ever understand Napoleon's reasons, but I owe you my life, and for that I thank you from the bottom of my heart. But, what of her? Why must you take her back to Paris? I love her more—'

  'More than life itself, than liberty, than anything in the world,' Vidocq finished for him wearily. 'I know all that – and so does the Emperor, undoubtedly. But she is not free, Jason. She is the Princess Sant'
Anna… She has a husband, even though that husband may be no more than a phantom, for he is a singularly powerful phantom, and his reach is very long. He is asking for his wife and the Emperor is bound to grant his request or his sister, the Grand Duchess of Tuscany, may well find herself with a rebellion on her hands.'

  'I won't!' Marianne cried, clinging closer to Jason. 'I won't go back there, ever again!… Jason, save me… Take me with you! I am afraid of him, and his rights over me – even though I have never seen him. For pity's sake don't let them take me from you!'

  'Marianne… darling! Quiet, my love, hush! No, I won't let you go. I'd go back to prison, back to my chains, anything rather than leave you.'

  'I'm afraid you will have to, however,' Vidocq said heavily. 'There is your ship, Jason. The Emperor gives her back to you. Your life is with the sea, not languishing at the feet of another man's wife. For the Princess Sant'Anna a carriage waits by the harbour at Le Conquet.'

  'Then it had better stop waiting!' A new voice had spoken, thick with anger. 'Marianne stays here!'

  Jean Ledru, a pistol in either hand, stepped quickly in between Vidocq and the other two.

  'This is my ship, Vidocq! It may be small, but I am master here after God! We have the sea under us and these men are all mine! There are fourteen of us to one of you. If you value your life, let me advise you to let Marianne go with the man she loves. Or, believe me, the fishes won't know the difference between a secret agent and an escaped convict! Now move, backwards, into the cabin. Once they are both aboard the brig, I'll land you on the coast.'

  Vidocq only shook his head and pointed to where the brig was now hove to on their bow quarter. Her tall sides loomed higher above the little lugger at every moment:

  'You are reckoning without Surcouf, sailor. He knows this woman is married to another, and that other is demanding her. He is a man of honour and he knows where his duty lies.'

  'He proved that when he agreed to assist Marianne, even when he could not have known that I was innocent,' Jason said quickly. 'He will help us now.'

  'No. Nor should I ask him, if I were you.' He turned to Marianne, ignoring the pair of black muzzles aimed at his middle. 'I appeal to you, Madame, to your own loyalty and sense of honour. Did you wed the prince under any constraint, or of your own free will?'

  Marianne's whole body stiffened in Jason's arms, as she fought with all her might to shake off the burden of doom which was descending on her at the very moment when happiness seemed finally within her grasp. She turned and hid her face against Jason's shoulder, saying in a muffled voice:

  'I married him… of my own will. But I am afraid of him.'

  'You, Jason? Haven't you a wife somewhere?'

  'The demon who sought my death and Marianne's? She is nothing to me now.'

  'Only your wife in the sight of God and men. Listen to me. If you part now, you may meet again later and be the better for it. For you, Madame, my duty is not to take you to your husband, but to the Emperor who desires your presence.'

  'I have nothing to say to him!' Marianne said fiercely.

  'But he has. And I cannot believe that you will have nothing to answer him – when he may help you perhaps, both of you, to be free from the ties that hold you. So be sensible. Do not oblige me to use force. Jason cannot be allowed to go unless he goes alone, and on condition that you go with me quietly to Paris.'

  Jean Ledru, who had not released his grip on his pistols, laughed shortly and glanced up at the Sea Witch's counter which now towered above them.

  'The force is on our side, I think. And I tell you Marianne shall go with Jason and that Surcouf will help me send you to the bottom of the sea if you persist in this… Now, do as I say. Get below! There's a heavy sea getting up and we've no time to lose. The Iroise is no place to sit around and talk, and that low island that you see over yonder is Ushant. You know what they say about Ushant? That whoso shall see Ushant, shall see his own blood flow!'

  'Force is not on your side, Jean Ledru. Look there!'

  Marianne, whose hopes had risen when she saw the Breton's firm stand, gave a despairing groan. Rounding St Mathieu's Head was a frigate, the moonlight gleaming ominously on the muzzles of the guns protruding from her open ports.

  'The Sirène,' Vidocq said in explanation. 'She is under orders to keep a close watch on what passes here. Emperor's orders, although he may not be precisely aware of them. All her captain knows is that on sighting a pre-arranged signal he is to open fire on the brig.'

  Jolival, who had remained silent during these exchanges, spoke for the first time. 'I congratulate you. You appear to wield considerable influence – for an ex-convict!'

  'The power is the Emperor's, Monsieur. I am only the humble instrument. You know that he does not care to be disobeyed, and it seems he has his own reasons for not relying on this lady's blind obedience.'

  Jolival shrugged scornfully:

  'A warship cleared for action! And all to drag one unhappy woman from the man she loves! Not to mention that if the Sea Witch is sent to the bottom, you send your famous Surcouf with her!'

  'At any moment, Baron Surcouf will be aboard this vessel. See, here he comes now.'

  It was true. A rope ladder had been flung over the brig's side, down which a burly figure was clambering like a monkey on a stick, at a speed that said a good deal for his fitness.

  'Moreover,' Vidocq continued, 'Madame here is no unhappy woman but a very great lady whose husband is in a position to cause great trouble. I say nothing of Beaufort's importance – but the Emperor would not have been at such pains to rescue him had he been a person of no account. Our good relations with Washington depend on his reaching his own country intact, and with his ship, whether or not he is supposed to be rotting in the hulks. Well, Madame? What is your decision?'

  Surcouf had jumped down on to the deck and was striding lightly towards them.

  'What are you about?' he called. 'You must get aboard at once. The wind's getting up and the sea's rising. Your men are waiting for you, Monsieur Beaufort, and you are too good a sailor not to know the dangers of hanging about off Ushant, especially when the wind sits in this quarter.'

  'Give them a moment more,' Vidocq interposed. 'Time at least to say good-bye.'

  Marianne shut her eyes and a tearing sob broke from her. She clung to Jason with all her strength, as though hoping for some miracle from heaven to make them into a single person. She felt his arms holding her tightly, his breath on her neck and in a moment a tear rolled down her cheek.

  'Not good-bye!' she implored desperately. 'Not good-bye for ever. I could not bear it.'

  Jason tightened his hold. 'Nor could I. We shall be together again, Marianne, I swear it!' The words were whispered close into her ear. 'They are stronger than we are and we must obey. But they are sure to send you back to Italy, and I will meet you there…'

  'Meet me?'

  In the agony of her grief, the sense of what he said had scarcely penetrated, despite the hope it held.

  'Yes. I will meet you, in Venice – in six months. My ship will lie offshore and wait for as long as need be.'

  Slowly, he was inspiring her with the same indomitable fighting spirit which he himself had never lost, forcing the words into her ear as if he would have forced them into her mind and, little by little, life seemed to return and her brain began to function once again.

  'Why Venice? Leghorn is the nearest port to Lucca.'

  'Because Venice is not a French possession. It is Austrian. If your husband will not release you, you must fly there to me. Napoleon cannot touch you in Venice… Do you understand? You will come? In six months…'

  'I shall come, but Jason—'

  He stopped her mouth with a kiss, infusing into it all the passion of his love for her. When he let her go at last, his blue eyes looked earnestly into her tear-filled ones as he said in a low, vibrant murmur:

  'Before God, Marianne, I will never give you up! I want you and I am going to have you. Even if I must go to the
end of the world to find you… Jolival, you will take care of her? I have your promise?'

  'What else have I ever done?' the Vicomte said gruffly, tenderly receiving on his chest the trembling form given into his care. 'Have no fears on that score.'

  Jason turned resolutely and, making his way to Surcouf, bowed gravely.

  'I'm no great hand at thanks,' he said, 'but you may command me, Baron, as and where you like. I am your most grateful servant.'

  'My name is Robert Surcouf,' the baron retorted. 'Come here and let me embrace you, lad!' And added, for Jason's ear alone: 'Try and come back for her. She's worth it.'

  'I have known that for a long time,' Jason said with a fleeting smile, returning the Malouin's vigorous embrace. 'I shall be back.'

  Last of all, he turned to Vidocq and offered him his hand, unreservedly.

  'We have been through too much together, you and I, François,' he said, 'for us to be aught but brothers. You did your duty, that was all. You had no other choice.'

  'Thank you,' Vidocq said simply. 'Don't worry over her. I, too, shall be watching. Come, I'll help you up.'

  He indicated the rope ladder, now banging in the rising wind, that climbed the sheer sides of the brig above them. But even as he spoke men were descending on the deck from the American vessel, hoisting up their captain like a parcel. Ledru's men, reaching out to shake Jason's hand in a crushing grip as he was borne past, held the ladder stiff and steady.

  Leaning against Jolival, Marianne watched his progress, following him with her eyes until he reached the frieze of human heads and bodies lining the rail above. Jason's arrival on deck was the signal for a rousing cheer which rang like a death knell in Marianne's already breaking heart. To her, it sounded like the voice of that distant country of his, claiming him from her, back again to a place where she was not allowed to follow.