Ten Years Later by Dumas, Alexandre. Part one

money in your pocket, and there are in the marsh some Scotch

ambuscaders I have placed there. Those people are very

intractable; they understand but very little of the language

which you speak, although it appears to me to be composed of

three languages. They might take from you what I had given

you, and, on your return to your country, you would not fail

to say that General Monk has two hands, the one Scotch, and

the other English; and that he takes back with the Scotch

hand what he has given with the English hand.”

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

“Oh! general, I shall go where you like, be sure of that,”

said the fisherman, with a fear too expressive not to be

exaggerated. “I only wish to remain here, if you will allow

me to remain.”

“I readily believe you,” said Monk, with an imperceptible

smile, “but I cannot, nevertheless, keep you in my tent.”

“I have no such wish, my lord, and desire only that your

lordship should point out where you will have me posted. Do

not trouble yourself about us — with us a night soon passes

away.”

“You shall be conducted to your bark.”

“As your lordship pleases. Only, if your lordship would

allow me to be taken back by a carpenter, I should be

extremely grateful.”

“Why so?”

“Because the gentlemen of your army, in dragging my boat up

the river with a cable pulled by their horses, have battered

it a little upon the rocks of the shore, so that I have at

least two feet of water in my hold, my lord.”

“The greater reason why you should watch your boat, I

think.”

“My lord, I am quite at your orders,” said the fisherman; “I

shall empty my baskets where you wish; then you will pay me,

if you please to do so; and you will send me away, if it

appears right to you. You see I am very easily managed and

pleased, my lord.”

“Come, come, you are a very good sort of a fellow,” said

Monk, whose scrutinizing glance had not been able to find a

single shade in the clear eye of the fisherman. “Holloa,

Digby!” An aide-de-camp appeared. “You will conduct this

good fellow and his companions to the little tents of the

canteens, in front of the marshes, so that they will be near

their bark, and yet will not sleep on board to-night. What

is the matter, Spithead?”

Spithead was the sergeant from whom Monk had borrowed a

piece of tobacco for his supper. Spithead, having entered

the general’s tent without being sent for, had drawn this

question from Monk.

“My lord,” said he, “a French gentleman has just presented

himself at the outposts and wishes to speak to your honor.”

All this was said, be it understood, in English; but

notwithstanding, it produced a slight emotion in the

fisherman, which Monk, occupied with his sergeant, did not

remark.

“Who is the gentleman?” asked Monk.

“My lord,” replied Spithead, “he told it me, but those

devils of French names are so difficult to pronounce for a

Scotch throat, that I could not retain it. I believe,

however, from what the guards say, that it is the same

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Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later

gentleman who presented himself yesterday at the halt, and

whom your honor would not receive.”

“That is true; I was holding a council of officers.”

“Will your honor give any orders respecting this gentleman?”

“Yes, let him be brought here.”

“Must we take any precautions?”

“Such as what?”

“Binding his eyes, for instance.”

“To what purpose? He can only see what I desire should be

seen; that is to say, that I have around me eleven thousand

brave men, who ask no better than to have their throats cut

in honor of the parliament of Scotland and England.”

“And this man, my lord?” said Spithead, pointing to the

fisherman, who, during this conversation, had remained

standing and motionless, like a man who sees but does not

understand.

“Ah, that is true,” said Monk. Then turning towards the

fisherman, — “I shall see you again, my brave fellow,” said

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