“I will consider the information you have brought me, and judge of the probability of its correctness,” answered the admiral. “You shall, according as it is found to be correct, receive your reward. Take him on board again, Captain Gerardin, and see that he does not escape. He will probably be equally ready to inform the British government, if he has the opportunity, of what we are about.”
Tacon looked not over well pleased; he well knew that expostulation would be useless.
“The fates are against me, and I am truly an unfortunate and much-to-be-pitied man,” he muttered, as he was led away.
Captain Gerardin took him back on board the frigate, and, to prevent the possibility of his escaping, put him into irons. “A hard necessity, friend Tacon,” he remarked; “but necessity often compels us to perform unpleasant acts.”
“Ah, yes, it is my unfortunate fate! I am truly much to be commiserated,” answered the old pirate. “Now there is the marquis, up there, in your cabin. He is a much greater scoundrel than I am, and yet rank and wealth are his lot.”
“Oh, we have a bonne-bouche prepared for him, which he may not relish much more than you do those manacles on your legs,” remarked the captain, as he left the worthy Tacon to his solitary reflections.
The French admiral, meantime, paid much more attention to the information he had received than he was willing to acknowledge he should do. It corroborated what he had received from other quarters, and he instantly issued orders to prepare for the expected attack. Lord Gambier’s squadron had for some time been cruising off the coast, and it was considered a wonder that Captain Gerardin’s frigate had got safe into harbour.
Meantime the prisoners, for so they were, though treated more as friends and passengers, were detained on board. The preparations for the attack were concluded, and the French were convinced that it could not succeed. It was now the common subject of conversation; and Edda heard that Lord Claymore was about to take an active part in the operation, and, of course, supposing that Ronald Morton was still with him, she felt sure that he would likewise be engaged, and would be foremost wherever danger was to be encountered. Never had she passed a time of suspense so painful. It was shared, however, in a great degree, by her mother and by Donna Julia.
She was becoming much interested in the young Spanish girl, though she could not entirely make out her character. At all events she was warm-hearted and enthusiastic, but though gentle in her manners, she seemed more inclined to resent an injury than to forgive it. Still she was very different to her father, for whom Edda had conceived a great dislike. No one, indeed, liked him. Her father kept studiously aloof from his society, and even Father Mendez rarely or never spoke to him. Edda’s chief annoyance arose from the attentions paid her by Alfonse Gerardin; they had become more frequent, and he was far more confident in his manner than he had ever before been. How to treat him under the present circumstances she could not tell. The cabin was no sanctuary to her. He entered it at all times with perfect freedom, and evidently with the captain’s sanction.
One day, believing that he was on duty on deck, where the rest of the party were assembled, she remained in the cabin to read. She was seated on a sofa, and had succeeded in fixing her attention on the book, when the door opened, and on looking up she saw Lieutenant Gerardin approaching her. She let her eyes again drop on the page before her, but not a word could she read. He sat down by her side, and before she was aware of it had grasped her hand.