The Buccaneer Chief. Gustave Aimard. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gustave Aimard
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
Год издания: 0
isbn: 4064066203412
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his prank, although it nearly cost me dear."

      "My lord," the Duke then said, "I venture to hope that we shall not part thus, and that you will deign to accept the cordial hospitality which I offer you at my castle."

      "My time is not my own, unfortunately, my lord Duke, and duty demands my immediate presence on board. Be assured I deeply regret my inability to accept your kind offer."

      "Do you then expect to set sail so soon?"

      "No, sir; on the contrary, I hope," he replied, laying a certain stress on the words, "to remain here some time longer."

      "In that case," the Duke remarked with a smile, "I do not consider myself beaten. I am certain we shall meet again soon, and become more intimate acquaintances."

      "That is my most eager desire, sir," the young man said, taking a side glance at Doña Clara, who hung her head with a blush.

      The Count then took leave, and proceeded in the direction of Algeciras, while the horsemen slowly retired in exactly the opposite direction.

      The Captain walked on very thoughtfully, reflecting on the singular adventure of which he had so suddenly been the hero; recalling the slightest details, and admiring in memory the beauty of the young lady, whose life he had been so fortunate as to save.

      Being constantly absorbed by the thousand claims of his rude profession, and nearly always at sea, the Count, though almost twenty-five years of age, had never yet loved; he had not even thought about it; the few women he had hitherto met had produced no effect on his heart, his mind had always remained free in their presence, and no serious engagement had as yet disturbed its tranquillity. Hence it was with a certain terror mingled with astonishment, that while reflecting on the meeting which had suddenly interrupted his quiet walk, he perceived that the beauty of Doña Clara and her gentle voice had left a powerful impression on his mind, that her image was ever present, and that his memory with implacable fidelity ever recalled even its apparently most indifferent details, the short interview he had had with her.

      "Come, come," he said, shaking his head several times as if to drive away a troublesome thought; "I am mad."

      "Well, Captain," said Michael, who took advantage of this exclamation, to give a free course to the reflections which he burned to express aloud, "I don't care, but you must confess it was very lucky all the same for that young lady, that we were there at the very nick of time."

      "Very lucky, indeed, Michael," the Count replied, delighted at this diversion; "had we not been there the unhappy young lady would have been lost."

      "That is true, and hopelessly so; poor little thing."

      "What a frightful fate! So young, and so lovely."

      "I allow that she is well built, although I fancy her lines are a little too fine, and she is a trifle too pale." The Count smiled, but made no reply to the sailor's rather venturesome opinion.

      The latter, feeling himself encouraged, went on—

      "Will you allow me to give you a bit of advice, Captain?"

      "What is it, my lad? Speak without fear."

      "As for fear, deuce take me if I feel that, but I should not like to pain you."

      "Pain me, about what?"

      "Well, all the worse, I must out with it. When you mentioned your name, Captain, to the old Duke—"

      "Well, what happened?"

      "On hearing it pronounced, he suddenly turned as pale as a corpse; he frowned upon you so terrible a look that I fancied for a moment that he wished to assassinate you; don't you consider that funny, Captain?"

      "What you say is impossible; you are mistaken."

      "You did not notice it, because you had your head down, but I was looking at him without seeming to do so, and am quite certain about what I say."

      "But reflect, Michael, I do not know this nobleman, I never saw him before today; how can he possibly feel hatred for me; you are rambling, my good fellow."

      "Not at all, Captain, I am certain of what I state; whether you know him or not is no business of mine, but as for him, I will wager that he knows you, and intimately too; the impression you produced on him was too strong for it to be otherwise."

      "I will admit, if you like, that he knows me, but one thing I can certify, that I never offended him."

      "That is a point on which a man can never be sure, Captain; look you, I am a Basque, and have known the Spaniards for a long time; they are a strange people—proud as cocks, and rancorous as fiends; believe me, distrust them always; that can do no harm, and especially that old gentleman, who has a crafty face I do not like at all."

      "All that has no common sense, Michael, and I am as mad as yourself in listening to you."

      "Very well," the sailor said with a toss of the head, "we shall see hereafter whether I am mistaken."

      The conversation ended here; still Michael's remarks occupied the Captain more than he would have liked to show, and he returned on board with a very thoughtful air. On the next morning at about ten o'clock an excellent pleasure yacht hailed the frigate.

      This vessel contained the Duc de Peñaflor, and his silent cousin, Count de Bejar y Sousa.

      "On my faith, my dear Count," the Duke said, good-humouredly, after the first compliments, "you are going to find me very unceremonious, for I have come to carry you off."

      "Carry me off?" the young man replied with a smile.

      "On my word, yes. Just imagine, Count, my daughter insists on seeing you; she only speaks of you, and as she does pretty well what she pleases with me—a thing that will not surprise you greatly. She sent me to you to tell you that you must absolutely accompany me to the castle."

      "So it is," Don Stenio said with a bow, "the Señorita Doña Clara insists on seeing you."

      "Still—" the other objected.

      "I will listen to nothing," the Duke remarked quickly, "you must make up your mind, my dear Count, you can only obey, for you are aware that ladies cannot be thwarted; so come, reassure yourself, though, I am not going to take you far, for my castle is scarce two leagues from here."

      The Count, who in his heart, felt a lively desire to see Doña Clara again, did not allow himself to be pressed one bit more than was correct: then, after giving the necessary orders to his second in command, he accompanied the Duc de Peñaflor, followed by Michael, who seemed to be the Captain's shade.

      This was the way in which began a connection which was soon to be changed into love, and have, at a later date, such terrible consequences for the unhappy officer.

      The Duke and his eternal cousin who never quitted him, overwhelmed the Count with protestations of friendship, granted him the most perfect liberty at the castle, and appeared not at all to notice the intelligence which was soon established between Doña Clara and the young man.

      The latter, completely subjugated by the passion he experienced for the young lady, yielded to his love with the confident and unreflecting abandonment of all hearts that love for the first time.

      Doña Clara, a simple girl, brought up with all the rigid strictness of Spanish manners, but an Andalusian from head to foot, had listened with a quiver of delight to the confession of this love which she had shared from the first moment.

      Everybody, therefore, was happy at the castle; Michael alone formed an exception, with his stolid face, which was never unwrinkled; the more rapidly he saw matters tending to the conclusion the young people desired, the more gloomy and anxious he became.

      In the meanwhile the frigate had left Algeciras for Cadiz.

      The Duke, his daughter, and Don Stenio had made the passage on board; the Duc de Peñaflor wanted to go to Seville, where he had large estates, hence he accepted with eager demonstrations of joy the proposal