Chapter XXVIII

Since morning the _Jeune-Adolphine_ had been in the Channel. It was her last night at sea, for the next day at the evening tide she ought to be fast at the quay at Dieppe, whither she was bound to sell her fish.

Elise had been ordered to the helm during the second watch. Silvere had wanted to take her place. Since she had been so unhappy he had become more attentive, had spared her fatigue, had watched over her, and had anticipated her wants. Alas! she had no wants. She was wrapt in an indifference born of grief. He did not leave her; he comforted her by his affectionate glances and by that silent sympathy of which delicate natures know the secret.

What could he say? He had tried to speak of Firmin, but it awakened all her grief and she had burst into tears. He had ended by following her about like a faithful dog, as Barbet would have followed her if he had not been ill.

This community of suffering had made Silvere pale, so greatly had all these wakeful nights told upon him. Big men cannot endure a long strain. Elise now, not only refused fresh help from him, but for the last few nights, by her entreaties, had made him take his usual sleep. She herself was lying down for the first time since Barbet was ill, and was dreaming of Firmin when the summons to the deck brought her back from the happy vision.

She was never late at her post. Without troubling her head about her companion of the watch, who was slower to wake, she hurried on deck to relieve the man at the wheel.

It was nearly the end of the full moon and the night was clear, though at times thick, slow-moving clouds hid the sky for long intervals. When Elise heard the closing of the hatch she could not tell which of the men came out. Whoever it was, he would be her only companion for several hours, for in light breezes two were enough to watch the boat.

Elise heard his steps in the bow as he went to take his place as lookout.

The weather was a little uncertain. At times one of the heavy clouds would send down a fine warm rain on the boat, and it was for that reason that they had taken the precaution to close the hatch.

There was a kind of languor in the air. Notwithstanding her accustomed vigor Elise was depressed. She was tired, body and soul, but under a presentiment of coming trouble she threw it off and held herself ready for action.

In spite of the darkness of the night she had a vague intuition that the figure, which she had hardly seen, was that of Florimond. What was he going to do, and what new fancy led him to take the place of one of the men? Since he had come on the _Jeune-Adolphine_ he had not once offered to help in handling her. He had always preserved his dignity as captain before the crew, and here he was this night taking the place of a common sailor.

Was it really he? In order to know certainly, and to recognize the man by the sound of his voice, Elise gave the usual call:

“Keep your eyes open there, in the bow.”

There was no response.

“Who is on the lookout?”

No answer.

“Is it not you, Cousin Florimond?”

Then, suddenly, she nearly let go the tiller. The heavy clouds had parted and the moon shone clear through their rents. In the sudden light Elise saw Florimond close to her. He was bent double and was sneaking along in the shelter of the bulwarks.

Then, in spite of herself, she was afraid. She remembered the day when, face to face with him in the capstan hatch, he had been so violent.

“What are you going to do, Cousin Florimond? I have not made you angry again, I suppose.”

He stood erect; he nearly touched her hand. At that moment the silvery rays shone on the sail behind him, and his huge broad figure stood out grandly against its white background.

Around him on the deck everything was hidden in the shadow. He looked almost more than human. His chest curved outward between his arms squarely set on his shoulders. His neck, with its strong cords, supported his head proudly. His face was strong, notwithstanding its pure oval. He was not terrible, he was beautiful.

“What do you want of me, Cousin Florimond? If I can grant it, I could never have the heart to refuse.”

“I want your promise to marry me, Lise. You are the cleverest of the village girls, and I am the strongest of the men. We would make a fine couple, we two.”

“Do you think so, cousin? I am not worth your notice.”

“You saved me from the sea. You are the most daring of any of the girls.”

“I am only a poor lass, and not made for riches, like you.”

“You are made for me and I want you. I should never find any one who would do me more credit.”

“Why do you want me? You do not like me at all.”

“I owe you my life. I want to pay my debt.”

“We will talk later on. This is not the time for it. Leave me to mind the helm.”

“Listen, Elise, I want you. I believe that any man might be proud to marry you.”

In Florimond’s eyes Elise caught the jealous gleams which she feared. From the start, she had tried to refuse him without speaking of her engagement. She knew intuitively that she had but to mention Silvere’s name to rouse the jealousy of the proud captain who had so suddenly become his rival.

She made another attempt to avoid a clash.

“Return to your post, Cousin Florimond. If there should be a collision we should be to blame.”

“The other boats can look out for us.”

“We will watch all the same. It is our duty.”

“You wish to put me off, Lise. Do you not know me yet? If it is your Silvere who is in the way of your marrying me, he can look out for squalls.”

“Why do you threaten him? Has he ever done you any harm?”

“He is a great soft, half-coward.”

“On the contrary, he is braver and more generous than any one.”

She stopped, confused at this outburst, in which her heart had spoken in spite of her lips.

She was not afraid for herself, for she did not believe her sturdy cousin would do a mean act. She had known him when he was a child, the most beautiful child in the village, and had seen him grow up to be the handsomest man. She knew that he was conceited, violent, and inconsiderate of others, but she thought these were the traits of strong characters. She endowed him with manly virtues, she thought him brave and incapable of common crimes.

Nevertheless, she was uneasy on Silvere’s account, for he was not the kind of man to tolerate a rival, and foreseeing a quarrel between them she resolved to turn his anger on herself.

“Take your post, Cousin Florimond.”

“No! Give up Silvere. He is too lazy for you.”

And Cousin Florimond squared himself firmly on his legs as if to make the contrast between them more forcible.

“Go! Cousin Florimond.”

“Give him up, _tonnerre_!”

“Never! I have given him my word.”

“So much the worse. It will cost you dear.”

“It will not cost me enough to make me break it.”

“It will cost you your lover, Lise. Can he hold his own against me?”

“You have no right to quarrel with me about him. When you despised me, he alone stood by me. I should be unnatural if I were to forget his kindness. Take your post again, Cousin Florimond. Silvere has my word, and he will have it as long as I live.”

“Enough. _Tonnerre!_ You are playing a game to make me fall in love with you.”

“He protected me against all the villagers. He has a good heart and kindly ways. Do not speak to me of marriage. He has given me his love. I have given him mine.”

“Hold your tongue. Are you trying to make me kill him?”

“He is not afraid of you in the least, Cousin Florimond. He has faced stronger men than you, and, since you have no gratitude for what he has done for you, I will talk to you as you deserve. You are a better-looking man, but your face is disfigured by passion. You ask my love, but you get only my contempt. Do not speak to me! Do not speak to me!”

Florimond stepped toward her threateningly.

“You are too free with your tongue to-night, Elise. You are trying to find out what one gets who braves me. For the last time I say it, give up Silvere.”

“No, I love him.”

“Look out, then! _Tonnerre!_ You’ve brought it on yourself, girl.”

And Florimond threw himself heavily on Elise, crushing her with his sinewy fingers.

“Are you trying to kill me, because I would not tell a lie?”

“Give him up!”

“Never, Cousin Florimond.”

“Hold your tongue! I do not know myself! You shall give him up! _Tonnerre!_ Give him up, I say!”

Not being able to force Elise to her knees, he took a step backward to make a fresh attack.

“No! Never--never--never!”

During the instant that she was free she had picked up something--anything to defend herself with, and handled it dexterously.

“Help, Silvere! Help, Poidevin! Help, all!”

In an instant Florimond was on his back, pinned to the ground by two hands and two knees, which held him in spite of himself. He fought desperately, he breathed hard, and the shock, as his back was forced down again and again to the deck, fairly made it tremble. He sputtered with rage. All the sailors came running, one after the other, and big Poidevin with them, puffing like a drunkard waked too soon.

Chap. 28.]

Pale, and overcome with surprise and fright, the panic-stricken crowd stood there with wide-open eyes, looking about to see if it was some strange nightmare which had brought them, only half awake, on deck.

“Do not let him go, Silvere. He will do some harm.”

The sailors stood about, not daring to come near, and fearing even to touch this man, who had so strangely broken in on their sleep.

Barbet had wakened them. Stretched at length, without strength, unable to lift himself, but feverishly anxious, and hearing perhaps through the closed hatch Elise’s troubled voice, he had whined, but the sleeping ears were deaf. Then, with a last effort, he had howled loud enough to wake at once all these snorers out of their heavy sleep.

And they had all rushed out, Silvere first, as he thought of his betrothed. It was he who had thrown Florimond down and was now holding him fast.

He had a strong grip, this big fellow. His timidity and his good nature made him seem uncertain and weak. He was so bashful with women that he hardly dared to look into their eyes, and when he approached Elise he made himself gentle, as if to touch a child. But he was terrible at a time like this, when he was angry at men like himself. Under his firm hold it went hard with Florimond.

“Tie him up,” said Poidevin suddenly. “We cannot arrange a guard of men to watch him all the time.”

On shipboard they have a liking for summary measures. It is the easiest way to secure the safety of the boat against mutineers. The sailors urged on Silvere, and among them the survivors of the _Bon-Pêcheur_, old Quarrelsome and the Stutterer, were the most furious.

“He is strangling already. Finish him, once for all, Silvere.”

Then Elise forced her way through the men to where Florimond lay, and set him free.

“I do not want any one to be hurt on my account. Take your place again, cousin. I will go back to the helm, and Silvere will protect me.”