"Gentlemen," he said, looking round, "I am happy to see that you will all be able to get off without risk. Do you not perceive they are sending off their boats for you? Clémence," he said, in a lower voice, "will you go at once, or will you wait till the other boats arrive, and all go together?"
"Let me wait--let me wait," said Clémence, in the same low tone. "Every moment that my hand touches yours is a treasure."
The other boats came in rapidly with the returning tide; and as soon as their keels touched the sand, and a few words had been spoken to ascertain that all was right and understood, the Count turned and said,--
"Now, gentlemen."
There were some twenty or thirty yards of shallow water between the sands and the boats, and Albert of Morseiul raised Clémence in his arms, and carried her to the edge of the first. Neither of them spoke a word; but as leaning over, he placed her in the boat, she felt his arms clasp more tightly round her, and his lips were pressed upon hers.
"The Almighty bless thee!" and "God protect and deliver you!" was all that was said on either side; and the Count turned back to the shore.
One by one the different officers advanced to him in silence, and grasped his hand before they proceeded to the boats. When they were all in, and the boats began to push off, the Count pulled off his hat, and stood bareheaded, looking up to Heaven. But at that moment a loud shout burst from the soldiery, of "The Count, the Count, they have forgotten the Count!"
But the Count of Morseiul turned round towards them, and said aloud, in his usual calm, firm tone: "They have not forgotten me, my friends. It was you that were mistaken when you thought that I had forgotten you. I remain to meet my fate, whatever it may be."
A number of men in the ranks instantly threw down their muskets, and rushing forward, clasped his knees, beseeching him to go. But he waved his hand, saying gently, "It is in vain, my friends! My determination has been taken for many days. Go back to your ranks, my good fellows, go back to your ranks! I will but see the boats safe, and then join you, to surrender the village and lay down our arms."
The Count then turned again to the sea, and watched the four boats row onward from the shore. They reached the vessels in safety in a few minutes; in a few minutes more the boats belonging to the village began to row back empty. After a little pause some more canvass was seen displayed upon the yards of the vessels. They began to move; they sailed out of the harbour; and, after gazing down upon the sand fixedly and intently while one might count a hundred, the Count of Morseiul, feeling himself solitary, turned, gave the word of command, and marched the men back into the village. He entered immediately into the room where the Chevalier d'Evran lay, and although by this time all the principal officers of the royalist force were there, with several other persons, amongst whom was his own servant Riquet, he walked silently up to the head of the corpse, and gazed for several minutes on the dead man's face. Then lifting the cold hand, he pressed it affectionately in his.