Chamberss Edinburgh Journal, No. 429 | Page 7

well as their infernal cut-throat gorge, and pulled straight for it, but quite prepared to give them a warm reception.'
Madeleine looked up. She saw around her more than fifty men, three women, and some children. She shuddered again at the thought of the awful massacre which would have occurred but for the sailor's prudence.
'My good girl,' continued the man, 'we are cold, wet, and hungry; can you shew us to some shelter?'
'Yes; but do you bid some of your men carry my father, who, I fear, is dying.'
'It is no more than he merits,' replied the man; 'but for your sake I will have him taken care of.'
'It is what I merit,' said Pierre, in a strange and loud tone; 'but not from your hands, Jacques.'
'Merciful God!' cried the sailor, 'whose voice is that?'
'You will soon know; but do as your sister bids you, and then we can talk more at ease.'
Madeleine cast herself sobbing into her brother's arms, who, gently disengaging her, had a litter prepared for his father, and then, guided by Madeleine, the procession advanced on its way. An armed party marched at the head, and in a quarter of an hour the village of Montreaux was reached. It was entirely deserted. There were fires in the houses, and lamps lit, and even suppers prepared, but not a living thing. Even the children and old women on hearing the discharge of musketry, had fled to a cave where they sometimes took shelter when the coast-guard was sent in search of them.
The delighted sailors and passengers spread themselves through the village, took possession of the houses, ate the suppers, and slept in the beds, taking care, however, to place four sentries in well-concealed positions, for fear of a surprise. Madeleine, her father, her brother, the ship's surgeon, and a young lady passenger, came to the house of old Sandeau, who was put to bed, and his wounds dressed. He said nothing, but went to sleep, or feigned to do so.
Supper was then put upon the table, and the four persons above mentioned sat down, for a few minutes in silence. Jacques, the captain of the East-Indiaman, looked moody and thoughtful. He said not a word. Suddenly, however, he was roused by hearing the young surgeon of the Jeune Sophie speak.
'Madeleine,' said he, in a gentle but still much agitated tone of voice, 'how is it I find you here--you whom I left at St Omer?'
'Is this, then, the Madeleine you so often speak of?' cried the astonished sailor.
'It is. But speak, my dear friend.'
'Edouard, I am here because yonder is my father, and it is my duty to be where he is.'
'But why is your father here?' continued the other.
'I am here,' said the old man, fiercely turning round, 'because I am at war with the world. For a trifling error, I was dismissed the command of this very Jeune Sophie twelve years ago. I vowed revenge, and you see the kind of revenge I have selected.'
'Dear father,' said Madeleine gently, 'see what an escape you have had!'
'Besides,' interposed Jacques, 'there was no occasion for revenge. M. Ponceau, who had adopted me, searched for you far and wide, to give you another ship. They dismissed you in a moment of anger. They proved this, by giving me the command of the Jeune Sophie as soon as I could be trusted with it.'
'What is done is done,' said Pierre, 'and I am a wrecker! I have done wrong, but I am punished. Jacques, my boy, take away Madeleine; I see this life is not fit for her. If I recover, I shall remain, and become the trader of the village'----
'No, father, you must come with us,' observed Jacques sadly. 'You and I and Madeleine will find some quiet spot, where none will know of the past, and where we ourselves may learn to forget. I have already saved enough to support us.'
'And your wife, sir?' said the young lady, who had not hitherto spoken.
'Leonie, you can never marry me now. You are no fit mate for the son of a wrecker.'
'Jacques,' interposed the young surgeon, 'neither you nor Madeleine has any right to suffer for the errors of your father. I made the acquaintance of your sister at my aunt's school in St Omer. I loved her; and before I started on this journey, I had from her a half-promise, which I now call upon her to fulfil.'
'What say you, Madeleine?' said Jacques gravely.
'That I can never give my hand to a man whom I love too well to dishonour.'
'Madeleine, you are right, and you are a noble girl!' replied her brother.
'Children,' said the old man, with a groan, 'I see my crime now in its full hideousness; but I can at least repair part of the evil done.