CHAPTER XXIII. THE EMPTY CRADLE
Eager to know
The worst, and with that fatal certainty
To terminate intolerable dread,
He spurred his courser forward—all his fears
Too surely are fulfilled.—SOUTHEY
Contrary winds made the voyage of the THROSTLE much more tardy than had been reckoned on by Berenger’s impatience; but hope was before him, and he often remembered his days in the little vessel as much happier than he had known them to be at the time.
It was in the calm days of right October that Captain Hobbs at length was putting into the little harbour nearest to La Sablerie. Berenger, on that morning, had for the first time been seized by a fit of anxiety as to the impression his face would make, with its terrible purple scar, great patch, and bald forehead, and had brought out a little black velvet mask, called a tour de nez, often used in riding to protect the complexion, intending to prepare Eustacie for his disfigurement. He had fastened on a carnation-coloured sword-knot, would a scarf of the same colour across his shoulder, clasped a long ostrich plume into his broad Spanish hat, and looked out his deeply-fringed Spanish gloves; and Philip was laughing merrily, not to say rudely, at him, for trying to deck himself out so bravely.
‘See, Master Hobbs,’ cried the boy in his high spirits, as he followed his brother on deck, ‘you did not know you had so fine a gallant on board. Here be braveries for my Lady.’
‘Hush, Phil,’ broke in Berenger, who had hitherto taken all the raillery in perfect good part. ‘What is amiss, Master Hobbs?’
‘I cannot justly say, sir,’ returned Master Hobbs, without taking his gaze off the coast, ‘but by yonder banks and creeks this should be the Sables d’Olonne; and I do not see the steeple of La Sablerie, which has always been the landmark for the harbour of St. Julien.’
‘What do you understand by that?’ asked Berenger, more struck by his manner than his words.
‘Well, sir, if I am right, a steeple that has stood three or four hundred years does not vanish out of sight like a cloud of smoke for nothing. I may be lightning, to be sure; or the Protestants may have had it down for Popery; but methinks they would have too much Christian regard for poor mariners than to knock down the only landmark on this coast till you come to Nissard spire.’ Then he hailed the man at the mast-head, demanding if he saw the steeple of La Sablerie. ‘No, no, sir.’ But as other portions of the land became clearer, there was no doubt that the THROSTLE was right in her bearings; so the skipper gave orders to cast anchor and lower a boat. The passengers would have pressed him with inquiries as to what he thought the absence of his landmark could portend; but he hurried about, and shouted orders, with the deaf despotism of a nautical commander; and only when all was made ready, turned round and said, ‘Now, sir, maybe you had best let me go ashore first, and find out how the land lies.’