Chapter 15
MASTER REND-YOUR-SOUL.
The more closely the chevalier studied Master Rend-your-Soul, the less he was able to believe that this half barbarian was in the good graces of Blue Beard. The buccaneer, having lighted his pipe, lay down on his back, put his two hands under his head, and smoked, with his eyes fixed on the hut, with an appearance of profound beatitude, and said to the chevalier, "You have come here in a litter, with your pink stockings?"
"No, my good friend, I have come on foot, and I would have come on my head in order to see the most famous buccaneer in all the Antilles, whose fame has even reached Europe."
"If you are in need of skins," said the buccaneer in answer, "I have a dozen bulls' skins so fine and beautiful that you would suppose them to be buffalo. I have also a string of boar's hams such as are not cured in any station."
"No, no, my brave friend, I tell you admiration, nothing but admiration has guided me. I arrived from France five days since in the Unicorn, and my first visit is to you, whose merit I am well aware of."
"Truly?"
"As true as I call myself the Chevalier de Croustillac, for you will not be displeased, perhaps, to know with whom you talk. My name is Croustillac."
"All names are a matter of indifference to me, except that of _purchaser_."
"And admirer, my brave friend, admirer, is that nothing? I, who have come from Europe expressly to see you?"
"You knew, then, that you would find me here?"
"Not exactly; but Providence has arranged it; and, thanks to Providence, I have met the famous Rend-your-Soul."
"Decidedly he is stupid," thought the chevalier. "I have nothing to contend with in such a rival; if the others are no more dangerous, it will be very easy for me to make Blue Beard adore me; but I must find the road to Devil's Cliff. It will be truly racy to be conducted thither by this bear." He spoke: "But, my brave hunter, alas! all glory is bought; I wished to see you, I have seen you."
"Very well, go your way, then," said the buccaneer, expelling a cloud of tobacco smoke.
"I like your brusque frankness, worthy Nimrod; but in order to go, I must learn a road thence, and I know none."
"From whence came you?"
"From Macouba, where I lodged at the house of the Reverend Father Griffen."
"You are only two leagues from Macouba; my servant will guide you there."
"How! only two leagues!" cried the chevalier. "It is impossible! I have walked since daybreak yesterday, until night, and since early morn until noon, and have I gone but two leagues?"
"One sometimes sees boars and above all young bulls deceived thus, and make many steps almost without changing the inclosure," said the buccaneer.
"Your comparison smacks of the art of hunting, and, noble following as it is, cannot shock a gentleman; then, admit that I have dodged about, even like a young bull, as you say; it does not follow that I wish to return to Macouba; and I depend upon you to show me the road I should follow."
"Where do you wish to go?"
For a moment the chevalier hesitated, and knew not what reply to make. Should he avow frankly his intention of going to Devil's Cliff? Croustillac sought refuge in a subterfuge--"I wish to go by the road to Devil's Cliff."
"The road to Devil's Cliff only leads to Devil's Cliff, and----"
The buccaneer did not finish his sentence, but his face became menacing.
"And--where does the road to Devil's Cliff lead?"
"It leads sinners to hell, and saints to paradise."
"So, a stranger, a traveler, who has a whim to visit Devil's Cliff----"
"Would never return from thence."
"At least, in that case, one does not risk getting lost on the return," said the chevalier coolly. "'Tis well, my good friend, then show me the way."
"We have eaten under the same roof, we have drunk from the same cup; I would not willingly cause your death."
"So, in conducting me to Devil's Cliff, you kill me?"
"It will come to the same thing."
"Although your dinner was perfect, and your company very agreeable, my brave Nimrod, you almost make me regret it, as this prevents you from satisfying my wish. But what danger threatens me, then?"
"All the dangers of death that a man can brave."
"All these dangers--make but one, seeing that one can but die once," said the Gascon carelessly.
The buccaneer scanned the chevalier closely, and appeared impressed by his courage as much as by the air of frankness and good humor which showed through all his extravagance.
The chevalier continued: "The Chevalier de Croustillac never knows fear while he has his sister at his side."
"What sister?"
"This, which, by heavens, is not virgin," cried the Gascon, drawing his sword and brandishing it. "The kisses she gives are sharp, and the bravest have regretted making her acquaintance."
"Miaow! miaow!" said the servant, who was a witness of this scene. This cry made the Gascon start, and recalled to him the exploits of the preceding night. He colored with rage, advanced upon the servant with the sword's point, in order to chastise him with the flat of his steel; but Peter withdrew dexterously and got out of reach, while the buccaneer burst into laughter.
This hilarity exasperated the chevalier, who said to Rend-your-Soul, "Zounds! if you dare attack a man as you would a bull, beware."
"Look at your sword; the steel is stained with blood and covered with the hair of wildcats; it is that which made Peter cry out 'Miaow!'"
"Defend yourself," repeated the chevalier furiously.
"When I have four feet, claws and a tail, I will fight with you," said the buccaneer quietly.
"I will mark your face, then," said the chevalier, advancing toward Rend-your-Soul.
"Softly, velvet claws, pussy velvet claws," said the buccaneer, laughing, and parrying with the muzzle of his gun the furious thrusts which the exasperated chevalier bestowed upon him.
The servant would have come to the rescue of his master, but the latter forbade.
"Do not stir; I will answer for this redoubtable fellow. 'The burned cat dreads cold water,' as they say. I am going to give him a good lesson."
These sarcasms increased the chevalier's rage; he forgot his adversary was defending himself with a gun, and he showered some desperate blows upon him, while the buccaneer, showing a marvelous address and a rare vigor, used his heavy gun like a stick.
During this unequal combat, the buccaneer added to his insolence by imitating the cry which cats make when they are angry, when they disagree. This last outrage capped the climax; but against his attack he found, in the buccaneer, a gladiator of the greatest strength in fencing; and he had shortly the chagrin of seeing himself disarmed; his sword was struck off some ten paces. The buccaneer threw himself upon the Gascon; raised his gun like a club; he seized the chevalier by the collar and cried, "Your life is mine; I am going to break your head like an eggshell."
Croustillac, looking at him without flinching, said, coldly, "And you are trebly right, for I am a triple traitor." The buccaneer recoiled a step. "I was hungry--you gave me food; I was thirsty and you gave me drink; you were unarmed and I attacked you. Break my head--Zounds! break it, you are right. Croustillac is dishonored."
This was not the language of an assassin or a spy; then, holding out his hand to the chevalier, the buccaneer said, with a rough voice, "Come, clasp hands; we have been seated under the same roof, we have fought together--we are brothers."
The chevalier was about to put his hand in that of the buccaneer, but he paused and said gravely, "Frankness for frankness; before giving you my hand I must tell you one thing."
"What?"
"I am your rival."
"Rival! how is that?"
"I love Blue Beard, and I am resolved at all hazards to go to her and to please her."
"Clasp hands, brother."
"A moment--I must say to you that when Polyphème Croustillac wishes to please, he pleases; when he pleases, one loves him; and when one loves him, one loves him madly and unto death."
"Clasp hands, brother."
"I will not touch your hand until you tell me if you will accept me openly for your rival?"
"And if not?"
"If not, break my head; you will be right in so doing. We are alone; your servant will not betray you; but I will never renounce the hope, the certainty, of pleasing Blue Beard."
"Ah, this is another matter."
"A last question," continued the chevalier; "You go often to Devil's Cliff?"
"I go often to Devil's Cliff."
"You see Blue Beard?"
"I see her."
"You love her?"
"I love her."
"She loves you?"
"She loves me."
"You?"
"Me."
"She loves you?"
"To madness----"
"She has told you so?"
"And--Blue Beard----"
"Is my mistress."
"On the word of a buccaneer?"
"On the word of a buccaneer."
"Then," said the chevalier to himself, "there is no more discretion among barbarians than among civilized people. Who would say at the sight of such a stupid fellow, that he was a coxcomb?" Then he said aloud, "Ah, well, then, I repeat to you, break my head, for if you spare my life I shall reach Devil's Cliff; I shall do all I can to please Blue Beard, and I _shall_ please her, I warn you. So, then, once more, break my head, or resign yourself to seeing in me a rival, shortly a happy rival!"
"I say to you, clasp hands, brother."
"How? in spite of what I say?"
"Yes."
"It does not alarm you?"
"No."
"It is all the same to you if I go to Devil's Cliff?"
"I will conduct you there, myself."
"Yourself?"
"To-day."
"And I shall see Blue Beard?"
"You shall see her as often as you wish."
The chevalier, moved by the confidence in him which the buccaneer testified, did not wish to abuse it; he said in a solemn tone, "Listen, buccaneer, you are as generous as a savage; this is not by way of offense; but, my worthy friend, my loyal enemy, you are as ignorant as a savage. Reared in the midst of the forest, you have no idea what a man is who has passed his life in pleasing, seducing; you do not know the marvelous resources which such a man finds in his natural attractions; you do not know the irresistible influence of a word, a gesture, a smile, a look! This poor Blue Beard does not know either; to judge from what they say of her three husbands. They were three worthless fellows, three vagabonds; she rid herself of them, rightly. Why has she rid herself of them? Because she sought an ideal, an unknown being, the dream of her dreams. Now, my brave friend, always be it said without offense, you cannot deceive yourself to such a degree as to think that you realize this dream of Blue Beard; you cannot really take yourself for a Celadon--for an Adonis----"
The buccaneer looked at Croustillac with a stupid air and did not appear to understand him; he said, pointing to the sun, "The sun is setting; we have four leagues to make before we arrive at Devil's Cliff; let us start."
"This unhappy man," thought the chevalier, "has not the slightest idea of the danger he runs; it is a pity to disabuse his blindness; it is like striking a child; it is snaring a sitting pheasant; it is killing a sleeping man; on the honor of De Croustillac, it gives me scruples." Then aloud, "You do not understand, then, my brave friend, that this man as seductive as irresistible of whom I speak is none other than myself?"
"Ah, bah! it is impossible."
"Your surprise is not flattering, brave hunter, but if I speak thus to you of myself, it is that honor compels me to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. You do not understand that, once having seen me, Blue Beard will love me; and she will not love you any more, my poor Rend-your-Soul. Understand, then, that it would be cowardly and treasonable on my part not to warn you in advance as to the position you hold with Blue Beard. I repeat, from the moment when I put foot in Devil's Cliff, from the moment she sees me, when she hears me, her love for you is at an end. Meantime, I have warned you, loyally warned you; consider if you are willing to risk it."
"Clasp hands, brother," said the buccaneer, seemingly insensible to the danger that the chevalier pointed out to him. "Let us be going. We will arrive at night at Devil's Cliff; a fall from the precipice would not be pleasant at this hour."
"Come on--you are mad--so be it, but I have warned you; it will be open war," said the chevalier.
The buccaneer, without making any reply to the chevalier, said to his servant, "Shut up the dogs in the house, and have ready two dozen bulls' skins, which will be needed to-morrow at Basse-Terre; I shall not return to-night."
"It falls aright," said the servant to himself, and with a shrewd air; "he sleeps away from the hut one night in every three."
While the buccaneer attached his belt, the chevalier said to himself, looking at the hunter with a feeling of pity, "Faith! but he puts the rope gayly about his own throat; since he will not heed my warning, let him look out for himself. It appears that lovers are, in such cases, no wiser than husbands. But as regards Blue Beard--if she is pretty--it must be that she is--can she receive such a savage? Poor little thing. It is very simple. She does not know the compensation that is reserved for her. Hail to the gods. Croustillac, thy star has arisen!" continued the chevalier, after some minutes of reflection.
"Come, brother, let us start," said the buccaneer; "but before doing so, Peter shall envelop your legs in a piece of skin which he has, for we are going to traverse a bad quarter for serpents."
The chevalier thanked the buccaneer, not without shrugging his shoulders in pity for him, and said, "Unhappy man! he is shoeing me, but I shall put a cap on him!"
This stupid joke was to be fatally punished in Croustillac, who followed his guide with renewed ardor, for was he not going to see Blue Beard?