Gascon.
73
Fatality.
Scarcely had D’Artagnan uttered these words when a ringing
and sudden noise was heard resounding through the felucca,
which had now become dim in the obscurity of the night.
“That, you may be sure,” said the Gascon, “means something.”
They then at the same instant perceived a large lantern
carried on a pole appear on the deck, defining the forms of
shadows behind it.
Suddenly a terrible cry, a cry of despair, was wafted
through space; and as if the shrieks of anguish had driven
away the clouds, the veil which hid the moon was cleated
away and the gray sails and dark shrouds of the felucca were
plainly visible beneath the silvery light.
Shadows ran, as if bewildered, to and fro on the vessel, and
mournful cries accompanied these delirious walkers. In the
midst of these screams they saw Mordaunt upon the poop with
a torch in hand.
The agitated figures, apparently wild with terror, consisted
of Groslow, who at the hour fixed by Mordaunt had collected
his men and the sailors. Mordaunt, after having listened at
the door of the cabin to hear if the musketeers were still
asleep, had gone down into the cellar, convinced by their
silence that they were all in a deep slumber. Then he had
run to the train, impetuous as a man who is excited by
revenge, and full of confidence, as are those whom God
blinds, he had set fire to the wick of nitre.
All this while Groslow and his men were assembled on deck.
“Haul up the cable and draw the boat to us,” said Groslow.
One of the sailors got down the side of the ship, seized the
cable, and drew it; it came without the least resistance.
“The cable is cut!” he cried, “no boat!”
“How! no boat!” exclaimed Groslow; “it is impossible.”
“‘Tis true, however,” answered the sailor; “there’s nothing
in the wake of the ship; besides, here’s the end of the
cable.”
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Dumas, Alexandre – Twenty Years After
“What’s the matter?” cried Mordaunt, who, coming up out of
the hatchway, rushed to the stern, waving his torch.
“Only that our enemies have escaped; they have cut the cord
and gone off with the boat.”
Mordaunt bounded with one step to the cabin and kicked open
the door.
“Empty!” he exclaimed; “the infernal demons!”
“We must pursue them,” said Groslow, “they can’t be gone
far, and we will sink them, passing over them.”
“Yes, but the fire,” ejaculated Mordaunt; “I have lighted
it.”
“Ten thousand devils!” cried Groslow, rushing to the
hatchway; “perhaps there is still time to save us.”
Mordaunt answered only by a terrible laugh, threw his torch
into the sea and plunged in after it. The instant Groslow
put his foot upon the hatchway steps the ship opened like
the crater of a volcano. A burst of flame rose toward the
skies with an explosion like that of a hundred cannon; the
air burned, ignited by flaming embers, then the frightful
lightning disappeared, the brands sank, one after another,
into the abyss, where they were extinguished, and save for a
slight vibration in the air, after a few minutes had elapsed
one would have thought that nothing had happened.
Only — the felucca had disappeared from the surface of the
sea and Groslow and his three sailors were consumed.
The four friends saw all this — not a single detail of this
fearful scene escaped them. At one moment, bathed as they
were in a flood of brilliant light, which illumined the sea
for the space of a league, they might each be seen, each by
his own peculiar attitude and manner expressing the awe
which, even in their hearts of bronze, they could not help
experiencing. Soon a torrent of vivid sparks fell around
them — then, at last, the volcano was extinguished — then
all was dark and still — the floating bark and heaving
ocean.
They sat silent and dejected.
“By Heaven!” at last said Athos, the first to speak, “by
this time, I think, all must be over.”
“Here, my lords! save me! help!” cried a voice, whose
mournful accents, reaching the four friends, seemed to