Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

midst of these pools of water, covered with long grass,

rushes, and reeds, were seen solid spots of ground, formerly

used as the kitchen-garden, the park, the pleasure-gardens,

and other dependencies of the abbey, looking like one of

those great sea-spiders, whose body is round, whilst the

claws go diverging round from this circumference.

The kitchen-garden, one of the longest claws of the abbey,

extended to Monk’s camp. Unfortunately it was, as we have

said, early in June, and the kitchen-garden, being

abandoned, offered no resources.

Monk had ordered this spot to be guarded, as most subject to

surprises. The fires of the enemy’s general were plainly to

be perceived on the other side of the abbey. But between

these fires and the abbey extended the Tweed, unfolding its

luminous scales beneath the thick shade of tall green oaks.

Monk was perfectly well acquainted with this position,

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

Newcastle and its environs having already more than once

been his headquarters. He knew that by day his enemy might

without doubt throw a few scouts into these ruins and

promote a skirmish, but that by night he would take care to

abstain from such a risk. He felt himself, therefore, in

security.

Thus his soldiers saw him, after what he boastingly called

his supper — that is to say, after the exercise of

mastication reported by us at the commencement of this

chapter — like Napoleon on the eve of Austerlitz, seated

asleep in his rush chair, half beneath the light of his

lamp, half beneath the reflection of the moon, commencing

its ascent in the heavens, which denoted that it was nearly

half past nine in the evening. All at once Monk was roused

from his half sleep, fictitious perhaps, by a troop of

soldiers, who came with joyous cries, and kicked the poles

of his tent with a humming noise as if on purpose to wake

him. There was no need of so much noise; the general opened

his eyes quickly.

“Well, my children, what is going on now?” asked the

general.

“General!” replied several voices at once, “General! you

shall have some supper.”

“I have had my supper, gentlemen,” replied he, quietly, “and

was comfortably digesting it, as you see. But come in, and

tell me what brings you hither.”

“Good news, general.”

“Bah! Has Lambert sent us word that he will fight

to-morrow?”

“No, but we have just captured a fishing-boat conveying fish

to Newcastle.”

“And you have done very wrong, my friends. These gentlemen

from London are delicate, must have their first course; you

will put them sadly out of humor this evening, and to-morrow

they will be pitiless. It would really be in good taste to

send back to Lambert both his fish and his fishermen, unless

—- ” and the general reflected an instant.

“Tell me,” continued he, “what are these fishermen, if you

please?”

“Some Picard seamen who were fishing on the coasts of France

or Holland, and who have been thrown upon ours by a gale of

wind.”

“Do any among them speak our language?”

“The leader spoke some few words of English.”

The mistrust of the general was awakened in proportion as

fresh information reached him. “That is well,” said he. “I

wish to see these men, bring them to me.”

An officer immediately went to fetch them.

“How many are there of them?” continued Monk; “and what is

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

their vessel?”

“There are ten or twelve of them, general, and they were

aboard of a kind of chasse-maree, as it is called —

Dutch-built, apparently.”

“And you say they were carrying fish to Lambert’s camp?”

“Yes, general, and they seem to have had good luck in their

fishing.”

“Humph! we shall see that,” said Monk.

At this moment the officer returned, bringing the leader of

the fishermen with him. He was a man from fifty to

fifty-five years old, but good-looking for his age. He was

of middle height, and wore a justaucorps of coarse wool, a

cap pulled down over his eyes, a cutlass hung from his belt,

and he walked with the hesitation peculiar to sailors, who,

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