“Let the chaplain and surgeon be informed that the Moor is to be chastised on the chase-gun.”
The captain of the mast bowed more profoundly still and disappeared.
“I, at least, will not abandon this poor wretch!” cried Father Elzear, rising hurriedly in order to accompany him.
The good brother went out, and Pierre des Anbiez resumed his slow promenade in his chamber.
From time to time his eyes were attracted, in spite of himself, by the fatal portrait of the man for whose murder he suffered such remorse.
Then his steps became irregular and his face became sad and gloomy again.
For the first time perhaps in many years, he felt a thrill of pain at the thought of the cruel suffering the Moor was about to undergo.
This punishment was just and deserved, but he remembered that the unhappy captive had been, up to that time, gentle, submissive, and industrious. Yet such was the inflexibility of his character that he reproached himself for this involuntary pity, as a culpable weakness.
Finally the solemn flourishes of the trumpets of the galley announced that the execution was finished. He heard the slow and regular step of the soldiers and sailors, who were breaking ranks after having assisted at the punishment.
Soon Father Elzear entered, pale, dismayed, his eyes bathed in tears, and his cassock stained with blood.