“I am your guest, sir,” said he, with a most hypocritical air of deference and courtesy. “It is surely scant politeness to drive me hence when I am not in a position to find another shelter; we are upon the high seas; I cannot walk forth and take my leave. Believe me, sir, the character you would fain perform before the world would not act so.”
Notwithstanding the insult conveyed in the last words, I determined that I would respect “him who had eaten my salt;” and with a gesture of assent, for I could not speak, I moved away.
No sooner was I alone than I repented me of the rash folly into which, for the indulgence of a mere petty vengeance, I had been betrayed. I saw that by this absurd piece of malice I had made an enemy of a man whose whole career vouched for the danger of his malevolence.
How could he injure me? What species of attack could he make upon me? Whether was it more likely that he would avoid me as one dangerous to himself, or pursue me wherever I went by his vengeance? These were hard questions to solve, and they filled my mind so completely that I neither heeded the bustle which heralded the arrival on board of the pilot, or the still busier movement which told that we were approaching the harbor. At last I went on deck and approached the bulwark, over which a number of the crew were leaning, watching the course of a boat that, with all her canvas spread, was making for land. “The pilot-boat,” said the captain, in reply to my glance of inquiry; “she is lying straight in, as the consul is anxious to land at once.”
“Is he on board of her?” said I, with an anxiety I could not conceal.
“Yes, Señhor Condé, and your Excellency's secretary too.”
Was it my fear suggested the notion, or was it the simple fact, but I thought that the words “Count” and “Excellency” were articulated with something like a sneer? I had no opportunity to put the matter to the test, for the captain had already quitted the spot, and was busy with the multifarious cares the near approach to land enforces. My next thought was, Why had my secretary gone ashore without my orders? Was this a piece of zeal on his part to make preparations for our disembarking, or might it be something worse? and, if so, what? Every moment increased the trouble of my thoughts. Certainly, misfortunes do cast their shadows before them, for I felt that strange and overwhelming sense of depression that never is causeless. I ran over every species of casualty that I could imagine, but except highway robbery, actual “brigandage,” I could not fancy any real positive danger to be anticipated from the Chevalier.
How different was my mood from what I expected it would have been on nearing shore! Where were all my visions of pomp and splendor? Where the proud circumstances of my more than princely state? Alas! I would have given a full fourth of my wealth to be landed unostentatiously and quietly, and to have my mind relieved from all dread of the cursed Chevalier.
That I did not overrate the peril before me, events soon proved.