he; “I have selected a lodging for you. Digby, take him to
it. Fear nothing: your money shall be sent to you
presently.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said the fisherman, and after having
bowed, he left the tent, accompanied by Digby. Before he had
gone a hundred paces he found his companions, who were
whispering with a volubility which did not appear exempt
from uneasiness, but he made them a sign which seemed to
reassure them. “Hola, you fellows!” said the patron, “come
this way. His lordship, General Monk, has the generosity to
pay us for our fish, and the goodness to give us hospitality
for to-night.”
The fishermen gathered round their leader, and, conducted by
Digby, the little troop proceeded towards the canteens, the
post, as may be remembered, which had been assigned them. As
they went along in the dark, the fishermen passed close to
the guards who were conducting the French gentleman to
General Monk. This gentleman was on horseback, and enveloped
in a large cloak, which prevented the patron from seeing
him, however great his curiosity might be. As to the
gentleman, ignorant that he was elbowing compatriots, he did
not pay any attention to the little troop.
The aid-de-camp settled his guests in a tolerably
comfortable tent, from which was dislodged an Irish canteen
woman, who went, with her six children, to sleep where she
could. A large fire was burning in front of this tent, and
threw its purple light over the grassy pools of the marsh,
rippled by a fresh breeze. The arrangements made, the
aid-de-camp wished the fishermen good-night, calling to
their notice that they might see from the door of the tent
the masts of their bark, which was tossing gently on the
Tweed, a proof that it had not yet sunk. The sight of this
appeared to delight the leader of the fishermen infinitely.
Page 148
Dumas, Alexandre – Ten Years Later
CHAPTER 24
The Treasure
The French gentleman whom Spithead had announced to Monk,
and who, closely wrapped in his cloak, had passed by the
fishermen who left the general’s tent five minutes before he
entered it, — the French gentleman went through the various
posts without even casting his eyes around him, for fear of
appearing indiscreet. As the order had been given, he was
conducted to the tent of the general. The gentleman was left
alone in the sort of ante-chamber in front of the principal
body of the tent, where he awaited Monk, who only delayed
till he had heard the report of his people, and observed
through the opening of the canvas the countenance of the
person who solicited an audience.
Without doubt, the report of those who had accompanied the
French gentleman established the discretion with which he
had behaved, for the first impression the stranger received
of the welcome made him by the general was more favorable
than he could have expected at such a moment, and on the
part of so suspicious a man. Nevertheless, according to his
custom, when Monk found himself in the presence of a
stranger, he fixed upon him his penetrating eyes, which
scrutiny, the stranger, on his part, sustained without
embarrassment or notice. At the end of a few seconds, the
general made a gesture with his hand and head in sign of
attention.
“My lord,” said the gentleman, in excellent English. “I have
requested an interview with your honor, for an affair of
importance.”
“Monsieur,” replied Monk, in French, “you speak our language
well for a son of the continent. I ask your pardon — for
doubtless the question is indiscreet — do you speak French
with the same purity?”
“There is nothing surprising, my lord, in my speaking
English tolerably; I resided for some time in England in my
youth, and since then I have made two voyages to this
country.” These words were spoken in French, and with a
purity of accent that bespoke not only a Frenchman, but a
Frenchman from the vicinity of Tours.
“And what part of England have you resided in, monsieur?”
“In my youth, London, my lord, then, about 1635, I made a
pleasure trip to Scotland; and lastly, in 1648, I lived for