In Search of Mademoiselle

by George Gibbs

“I have no fear of Diego de Baçan, or Menendez de Avilés,” she replied, “but I will do as you wish.” She then took from the breast of her gown a straight dagger, long and fine. As I looked at it a chill went over me and I held up my hands before my eyes.

“Mademoiselle! Mademoiselle!” I cried in anguish.

She held the weapon poised a moment on her finger-tips looking at it strangely, then slowly set it in its sheath and returned it to her breast. I looked her in the eyes and they were calm. I knew that she would do as she meant. She stood straight as any one of Satouriona’s warriors, smiling bravely at me, and I wished that I might take her in my arms and tell her all that I would before we parted. I looked up at her, my hands trembling to touch her, my eyes wide with adoration; and something came over her then that she knew how deep I loved her. For a great tear came to her eye and trickled down upon her cheek. But she brushed it away brusquely with the back of her hand. She thrust her fingers toward me, turning her head away; and I pressed them to my lips, kissing them blindly—blindly many times.

“God bless you, Mademoiselle!” I murmured.

[Then I left her.] That was the memory of Diane de la Notte I carried out to sea.

We entered pinnaces at about four of the afternoon and put out across the bar for the Trinity, which, swinging wide at her anchorage, rolled upon the glassy water, light as a feather. For the cargo was out of her and she sat high and proud, for all the world like a great swan. There was no air stirring and the surface of the sea was like oil,—I felt again the same ominous foreboding of impending evil. There had been a storm somewhere, for the waves rolled in and burst with a roar upon the beach below us. It was choppy over the bar, but beyond a wetting we got upon the ship safely enough. I liked not the looks of the sky and sea. Overhead the clouds hung dark and heavy, for though ’twas a full hour before sunset the sky was so gloomy that all the lanthorns below were lighted. We could see all around the horizon, for the air was most clear and the blue black line of it came strong against the coppery glow of the heavens to the east and southward. The sand upon the shore gleamed white by contrast against the dark green of the pines beyond, which cut across the sky-line so black that you could see with distinctness each particular needle and spur. The thunder of the surf was loud above the dip and murmur of the ship, and to the southward along the coast as far as the eye could reach the white lines of froth, growing smaller and smaller in the distance, rolled in from the outer bar.

It was no pleasant berth for a ship of our size upon a lee shore. She could not go into any of the rivers as the Pearl and the Jesus could, and I was for putting to sea at once, where in the open we could clew up everything and run for it if a storm were brewing. The Admiral and the Captain Bourdelais were upon the after-castle in conversation and looking at the sky or up the river toward the Fort, where the Captain La Grange, with one of the vessels of Laudonnière, still tarried. It was plain to be seen that they liked the looks of the weather no better than I, for in a little while orders were passed forward to secure everything for sea, and the anchor was hove up to a short cable. Before dark La Grange appeared, and as a light breeze had sprung up, signals were flashed and we put out to sea under all plain sail. As soon as the sheets had been trimmed aft and the course had been set down the coast, I took a lanthorn and lay below decks with one of the midship’s men of the watch to see that all was secure in the hold and cabins.

When I went under the half deck and opened the hatch to the quarters of the men, a cloud of blue smoke rolled out and I thought there must be a fire. There, upon a sea-chest, sitting most disconsolate, was my Englishman, Job Goddard. Around him in a half-moon was a crowd of the French bowmen and arquebusiers holding their sides and laughing at his plight. For while I looked he put his hand upon his stomach, retching and groaning like a person ill unto death.