And opening the paper, Suzanne read the following extract from an article headed, "Further Particulars in Relation to the Famous Corsair, Captain l'Endurci:"
"'The captain's personal appearance is well calculated to increase his prestige, and each and every one of his men would willingly follow him to the death.
"'This intrepid corsair is about forty years of age. Though only of medium height, he is remarkably agile and robust; his physiognomy is both virile and expressive; his eagle eye, the imperious carriage of his head, and his resolute bearing all show him to be a man born to command. His real name and origin is shrouded in mystery, but many persons are of the opinion that he is a native of Brittany, basing the supposition upon the costume he always wears on shipboard. Others think the captain came from some southern province, and that he adopted the Breton costume merely from motives of convenience.
"'However that may be, we are sure our readers will peruse with interest a description of the costume this famous corsair always wears on shipboard; in fact, it is even said that he attaches a superstitious importance to the wearing of this garb, which consists of a long black jacket and waistcoat trimmed with small silver buttons, a broad orange sash into which his weapons are thrust, wide white linen trousers similar to the morphs worn by the fishermen of Holland and the pilots of the island of Batz, high leggings, and a low, broad-brimmed felt hat.'"
After having read this extract the housekeeper remarked: "You see, Segoffin, that this corsair wears a costume which is identical in every respect with that worn by M. Cloarek on the night of madame's deplorable death."
"Yes; it makes me shudder to think of it," exclaimed Segoffin, interrupting her, "and on reading it, I suppose Mlle. Cloarek fancied she saw in this corsair the mysterious personage who was the cause of her mother's death."
"Alas! yes, Segoffin, and she said to monsieur, in a sort of frenzy: 'Father, my mother's murderer still lives. Will you not avenge her?' You can imagine M. Cloarek's feelings. To undeceive his daughter he would have to accuse himself."
"Mademoiselle must have read the papers after M. Yvon's return, then, I suppose."
"Yes, monsieur came in about eleven o'clock. He looked radiant; my nephew, who was with him, also seemed to be in the best of spirits. 'Is my daughter in her room?' asked monsieur, gaily. 'I have some good news for her.' Though I am no talebearer, there was nothing for me to do but tell him about the altercation you and the worthy merchant had had in the garden, and how much it had terrified mademoiselle."
"Of course, but go on."