“Yes,” said the lieutenant, carelessly, “it is the last work of William Coustou, who died before he had completed it: it was finished by one of his pupils, named Duprè, a man of genius, who is starving, and who is obliged to carve wood for want of marble, and to cut figure-heads of ships, when he ought to be employed in sculpturing statues. See,” said he, giving an impulsion to the rudder which laid then across her bows, “it is a real necklace of coral that she wears, and they are real pearls that are hanging from her ears. As to her eyes, each pupil is a diamond worth a hundred guineas. The captain who takes this frigate, will, besides the honor of capturing her, have a splendid wedding present to offer to his bride.”
“What an odd caprice,” exclaimed Emanuel, carried away by the singularity of the object he was gazing at, “to ornament a ship in the same way that one would an animated, being, and to risk considerable sums to the chances of a battle, or the dangers of a storm.”
“Why should this astonish you?” said the lieutenant with an accent of indescribable melancholy; “we seamen have no other family than our sailors, no other country but the ocean, no gorgeous pageants but the tempest, no amusements but the battle. We must attach ourselves to something, having no real mistresses, for who would love us sea-gulls, who are always on the wing? We must therefore shape to ourselves an imaginary love. The one becomes enamoured of some verdant and shady island, and every time he perceives one in the distance, rising from the ocean like a flower garden, his heart becomes as joyous as that of a bird, when returning to its nest. Another selects some favorite star from out the firmament, and during the long and lovely nights on the Atlantic, every time he passes the equator, it appears to him that it approaches nearer to him, and salutes him with a more vivid light. There are others, and they are the greater number, who attach themselves to their frigate as to a well beloved daughter, who groan whenever the tempest tears away any part of her, at every wound given by the shot that strikes her, and when she is at length sunk by the tempest or the combat, prefer to perish with her, rather than to save themselves without her, giving to landsmen a holy example of fidelity. Captain Paul is one of the latter class, that’s all, and he has given to his frigate the wedding present which he had intended for his bride. Ah? I see they are waking up.”
“Boat ahoy?” cried some one from on board the frigate, “what boat’s that?”
“We want to come on board,” replied Emanuel; “throw us a rope that we may catch hold of.”
“Go round to the starboard side, and you will find the gangway ladder.”
The sailors pulled round, and in a few seconds the two young men were going up the ship’s side. The officer of the watch came forward with an eagerness which appeared in Emanuel’s mind to promise well.
“Sir,” said the lieutenant to a young man who was dressed in the same uniform as himself, and appeared to be of the same rank, “this is my friend, the Count —— By the by, I forgot to ask your name?”
“Count Emanuel d’Auray.”
“I was saying then, that this is my friend, the Count Emanuel d’Auray, who anxiously desires to speak to Captain Paul. Is he on board?”