Michel and Angele | Page 7

They cleared Cape Carteret with a fair wind from the north-east, which
should carry them safely as the bird flies to the haven of Rozel. The
high, pinkish sands of Hatainville were behind them; the treacherous
Taillepied Rocks lay to the north, and a sweet sea before. Nothing
could have seemed fairer and more hopeful. But a few old fishermen on
shore at Carteret shook their heads dubiously, and at Port Bail, some
miles below, a disabled naval officer, watching through a glass, rasped

out, "Criminals or fools!" But he shrugged his shoulders, for if they
were criminals he was sure they would expiate their crimes this night,
and if they were fools--he had no pity for fools.
But Buonespoir knew his danger. Truth is, he had chosen this night
because they would be safest from pursuit, because no sensible
seafaring man, were he King's officer or another, would venture forth
upon the impish Channel, save to court disaster. Pirate, and soldier in
priest's garb, had frankly taken the chances.
With a fair wind they might, with all canvas set--mainsail, foresail, jib,
and fore-topsail--make Rozel Bay within two hours and a quarter. All
seemed well for a brief half-hour. Then, even as the passage between
the Marmotier and the Ecrehos opened out, the wind suddenly shifted
from the north-east to the southwest and a squall came hurrying on
them--a few moments too soon; for, had they been clear of the 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 favour: the tide was now running hard
from the north-west, so fighting for them while the wind was against
them. Their only safety lay in getting beyond the Ecrehos. If they
attempted to run in to the Marmotier for safety, they would presently be
at the mercy of the French. To trust their doubtful fortunes and bear on
was the only way. The tide was running fast. They gave the mainsail to
the wind still more, and bore on towards the passage. At last, as they
were opening on it, the wind suddenly veered full north-east. The sails
flapped, the boat seemed to hover for a moment, and then a wave swept
her towards the rocks. Buonespoir put the helm hard over, she went
about, and they close-hauled her as she trembled towards the rocky
opening.
This was the critical instant. A heavy sea was running, the gale was
blowing hard from the north-east, and under the close-hauled sail the
Belle Suzanne was lying over dangerously. But the tide, too, was
running hard from the south, fighting the wind; and, at the moment
when all seemed terribly uncertain, swept them past the opening and
into the swift-running channel, where the indraught sucked them

through to the more open water beyond.
Although the Belle Suzanne was in more open water now, the danger
was 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, nodding
towards 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 to north-east, and he
feared its passing to the north-west, giving them a head-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, in
beating towards the Jersey coast under seas which almost swamped
them. They were standing off about a mile from the island, and could
see lighted fires and groups of people upon the shore, when suddenly a
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 like a pencil,
she heeled over, and the two adventurers were engulfed in the waves.
A cry of dismay went up from the watchers on the shore. They turned
with a half-conscious sympathy towards Angele, for her story was
known by all, and in her face they read her mortal fear, though she
made no cry, but only clasped her hands in agony. Her heart told her
that yonder Michel de la Foret was fighting for his life. For an instant
only she stood, the terror of death in her eyes, then she turned to the
excited fishermen near.
"Men, oh men," she cried, "will you not save them? Will no one come
with me?"
Some shook their heads sullenly, others appeared uncertain, but their
wives and children clung to them, and none stirred. Looking round