“Sacre bleu! mon garçon, do not hesitate. Captain Gaudet is a brave man, and the Vengeance, if she ever gets afloat again, is the best craft out of Havre, or Brest either. She took more prizes than any privateer on the coast, till that sacre frigate Anglais came in, and thought to cut her out of Havre in the very face of the forts.”
“How so?” said Julian, quietly sitting down, Dame Moret handing him a glass, and putting a bottle of wine beside him, feeling quite relieved from her fears, seeing him take the questioning so coolly, and knowing, as far as manner and language went, that he was a perfect Frenchman.
“Why, you see, those devils of English will do anything when there’s gold to be had. One of their frigates came to an anchor in the south road, and the captain with his boats thought to walk off with the Vengeance privateer. She was at anchor before the town. Diable! their insolence is wonderful, to think of taking, as it were, the bit out of your mouth.”
“Just like them,” said Julian, filling his glass. “Your health, sergeant. Those islanders would take the teeth out of your mouth if you kept it open!”
“Sacre, oui! I believe you; but they were caught in a trap, you see, for there was no wind, and the tide was against them, whilst the boats from the town, full of soldiers, and an armed lugger, and the guns of the fort opened on them, and so the vessel was retaken, and the English Captain, Monsieur Got-dam, and his crew were taken prisoners and sent to Paris.”
“Were all the officers taken,” said Julian, “and sent to Paris?”
“No, there’s some obscurity about the rest of the affair,” said the gendarme. “The captain and a midshipman only were sent to Paris. It seems Captain Pierre Gaudet made prisoner of one of the officers of the frigate—a regular diable—who shot his brother-in-law, he says, and took his schooner, so he thought he had a right to this prisoner himself. So he fastened him and a sailor taken with him down in the cabin of the Vengeance, and in the evening came ashore leaving five or six men in the lugger. Sacre! would you believe it? but this tonnerre de diable of an Englishman got loose with his man, and actually sliced the gizzards of the five men on board, and ran off with the Vengeance.”
“Mon Dieu!” said Julian, greatly interested, for he was now learning something about Sir Oscar de Bracy, “those two men were diables!”
“Corbleu! you will say so when you hear the end. The next day news reached Havre that the Vengeance had caught fire, and was run ashore near here under Lyon point, and burnt to the water’s edge.”
“You surprise me, Monsieur le Sergeant,” said Julian. “Then what became of lieutenant——”