https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/72366/pg72366-images.html

Translated, with the aid of Google Translate, by

Andrew D. Todd.

 a_d_todd@rowboats-sd-ca.com 

http://rowboats-sd-ca.com/

 February 28,2025.
The French original is out of copyright.
Google translate output is the result of a mechanical process,
and cannot be copyrighted.
I place all my notes and emendations in the Public Domain,
so the resulting work is PUBLIC DOMAIN.

Translator's dedication:
For my young friend Manuel Gonzalez,
 future officer of the United States Navy!

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CONTENTS

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[Here will be a map of the Indian Ocean in 1807]

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Chapter I

Captured

On  September 25, 1799 (4 Vendémiaire, Year VII of the French Revolutionary calendar) , the three-masted ship Bretagne left the Breton port of Brest and reached the sea, with all sails set.

 It was a beautiful merchant ship, transporting emigrants to South America. People were dying of hunger in Brittany, like almost everywhere else in France, and this emigration was to escape impoverishment, not to join the Royalist forces abroad, which  the laws still in force punished with death.

The government granted its consent to any citizen who, with their civic certificate, declared that they were absent only to support their existence or carry out business. Unfortunately, navigation was very difficult. The coasts were closely monitored by English cruisers, which raided commerce. It became daily  more difficult  for French navigators to escape the pursuit of British ships, whose guns mercilessly sunk any ship refusing to raise its flag.

     
 The Bretagne’s crew, however, nourished a hope of escaping the vigilant eyes of the “Jack Tars” (1_2). Traveling at eight to ten knots, they did not fear attempting such a long journey at the most unfavorable time of the year, in a season rife with shipwrecks.

The Bretagne carried a crew of eighteen, and one hundred and twenty passengers, including a young doctor, Charles Ternant, with his wife and two children, Anne and Guillaume (Will). Anne was then seven years old, and Guillaume was almost five. Dr. Ternant was going to  Argentina (1_3), where his late brother had managed to accumulate a substantial nest-egg (1_4), left as an inheritance to the young doctor. The doctor hoped, with this money, to create a better position for himself in a still almost virgin country, where  Europeans found ways to obtain landed estates and peons.
     
The first days of navigation were uneventful. The sky was clear, and the sea was beautiful. The ship passed the coast of Spain, and avoided the neighborhood of Portugal, which was then under English domination (1_5). At the latitude of the Canaries, where they might have considered themselves safe,  and free to turn west, they  suddenly saw the square sails of an English sloop-of-war (1_6) appear on the horizon. They had to flee, and to allow themselves to be pushed south.

It was a strange life on board for these people of such different conditions who, in despair,  left France to seek under other skies the means of maintaining a lamentable existence.

France was barely emerging from the Revolution, and the government of the Directory was coming to an end. Famine reigned over the entire territory of the Republic, bloodied by the atrocities of the Terror and the crimes of the civil war. Outside, the flag of France had been celebrated by brilliant victories: the battles of Valmy (September 29, 1792), Jemmapes (November 6, 1792), Hondschoote (September 6-8, 1793), Fleurus (June 26, 1794), Montenotte (April 12, 1796), Lodi (May 10, 1796), Castiglione (August 5, 1796), Arcole (November 15-17, 1796), and Rivoli (January 14, 1797); and these victories had led to the conquest of Flanders, the Netherlands, Savoy, and  northern Italy. But France  had just suffered, in quick succession, a number of major setbacks: In Germany, General Jourdan had had to retreat before Archduke Charles, after the defeat in the Combat of Bamberg (August 4, 1796); On the coast of Egypt, the French fleet of Admiral Brueys, had been annihilated by Admirl Nelson in the Battle of the Nile (at Aboukir August 1-3,1798), which had left the French  army in Egypt stranded, and at the mercy of the English. In italy,the Austrians and Russians, led by Count Suvarov, who had led his army across the Alps via the St. Gotthard Pass, had defeated France at Cassano (April 28, 1799,  La Trébie (Jue 17-29, 1799), and Novi (August 15, 1799). It was true that, guided by his star, solicited by fortune, Napoleon Bonaparte, the young winner of Arcole and Rivoli, the Pyramids and Mont-Thabor, had just returned to France. It would be less than two months,  before Bonaparte, carried out his coup d'état on 18 Brumaire, overthrew a government that had fallen into contempt, and inaugurated an unprecedented era of glory for France.

To face all enemies from outside; France had accomplished prodigies of courage and activity. Devoid of ships and, above all, of experienced sailors, it had tried, by commerce-raiding, to stand up to England. Unfortunate battles at sea had only served to increase the forces of the implacable and centuries-old rival. During the Fourth battle of Ushant (June 1, 1794), Frenchmen  had watched  the Vengeur du Peuple sinking gloriously before Brest under the enemy's cannonballs.

At the same time, in the Indian Ocean (1_7), a Breton was making an illustrious name among the great corsairs of our history. At the age of twenty-five, Robert Surcouf, from Saint-Malo, had already dealt severe blows to British trade, without ever fearing to measure himself against the sloops-of-war and frigates of the enemy. A year earlier, he had equipped at his own expense the corvette Clarisse, armed with fourteen cannons, on which he had become the terror of the Indian Ocean. It was him that the English ships relentlessly pursued, against him that the squadrons of Capetown (Cape of Good Hope) (1_7a), Madras, and Bombay gathered. However, each enemy captain, whatever his bravery, feared the terrible Malouin and only set out in search of him with the secret hope of not encountering him.

Faced with English pursuit, the Bretagne fled towards the south, making a considerable deviation from its route, but with the fixed intention of resuming it as soon as it found open sea. Alas! the surveillance was well exercised, and as late as November 15, the English flag was once again visible on the northwest horizon. They had to flee again towards the south. There, they encountered a new threat, emerging from the southwest. Three enemy ships were chasing the poor three-masted ship, and the only remaining escape was to the east, through the perils of the formidable Cape of Storms (which had been known, since Vasco da Gama, as the Cape of Good Hope), in the hope of reachig the Indian Ocean.

It was like throwing themselves into the leopard’s den. The Cape was, in fact, a major English naval station, and ships must have swarmed there. But there was no choice. It was necessary to take what was offered, because everyone knew what cruel fate awaited the French prisoners of war in the prison hulks (1_8) of the Britiish Navy . Moreover, the unfortunate emigrants made such a concert of complaints that Captain Kerruon began to lose his composure.

The Bretagne  therefore fled  to the east, as it  had fled to the south, with the fragile hope of taking refuge under the protection of the cannons of the fort of Saint-Denis, on the island of Ile De France (later Mauritius). It was more than two months since the ship had left Brest when it reached  the Cape. The ship's passage had been favored by the wind, and they could hope to reach the island before the end of the third month.

 As if to hurry them along, the hostile sails were visible on the horizon, sometimes closer, sometimes further away, depending on whether the French ship was gaining or losing ground. Everyone was therefore terrified when, on December 10, when, having crossed the dangerous zone of the Cape, and believing  they had escaped, the lookout reported a sail appearing on the eastern horizon. There was a moment of terrible anxiety.

The captain assembled the crew and found only men determined to sell their lives dearly. He then consulted the passengers. A third voted for resistance; the other two-thirds, concerned for their wives and children, were of the opinion that it was better to surrender. Perhaps the English would be content to make the unfortunate emigrants pay a contribution in order to grant them free passage to Argentina? How could they  fight, anyway? There were only  two bad swivel guns on board, with  twelve rounds of ammunition each, and around thirty muskets and pistols. The side of surrender therefore prevailed, and Captain Kerruon displayed the signals indicating his submission. The English ships rushing from the west were soon within cannon range. The first, a Sloop-of-War with a crew of ninety men and eight guns, approached close enough to signal the Bretagne to raise its flag.

 
 But while the old sailor from Brest, with rage in his heart and eyes full of tears, was preparing to obey the humiliating order, suddenly, to the great astonishment of the fugitives, the scene changed entirely. They saw the English sloop cover itself with canvas and turn around, going downwind, back the way it had come.  The second vessel, whose importance could not yet be appreciated, did likewise. 

 “Tonnerre de Brest!" exclaimed the Breton, “what does that mean? Wouldn't it seem like the 'God-Damms' (1_9) want to flee?"

They quickly got the answer to this strange enigma. The sail seen to the southeast was growing visibly. Soon there was no room for error. It was indeed flying the  the Tricolor,  the French flag,  at its masthead (1_10). Panting, their hearts full, their chests heaving with feverish hope, the crew and passengers of the Bretagne  did not dare believe their eyes, not knowing how to explain the presence of a French vessel in these latitudes. They all rushed towards the railings and bulwarks of the weather-decks (1_10a) and, leaning over these, witnessed the singular event which had ensured their safety.

The unknown vessel was approaching at a speed of ten to twelve knots, much higher than that of the enemy cruisers. Like certain stars in the firmament, the ship appeared to split (1_11). Behind it, in its wake, was revealed a large brig (1_12), whose raised ports showed the gleaming muzzles of eight sixteen-pounders, a formidable satellite of the first vessel, which carried no less than sixteen cannons. This one came on, fast as a bird of prey.  And, truly, it had an elegant and fierce appearance, with its large square sails, open like wings, which overflowed the bulging hull. However, it was thin and long, built for speed in battle. Its bow hollowed out like the throat of an albatross, whose powerful beak its canvas-laden bowsprit imitated quite well.

  The strange vessel chased after the two English ships and it was clear that it would catch  them quickly. As the ship slid past  the Bretagne, its crew greeted them cheerfully, and the fugitives could hear an immense clamor wishing them a safe journey. As the stranger forged ahead, , Captain Kerruon, armed with his telescope, was able to read the name written below the poop. A cheer lifted his chest, immediately repeated by the crew and passengers of the Bretagne. It was the Clarisse! “Long live Robert Surcouf!" they cried.(1_12a)

“Long live Robert Surcouf!" The acclaim was deserved. It was he, in fact, the invincible corsair, the glorious St. Malo-ian, the worthy descendant of Duguay-Trouin, who had just saved his compatriots in distress and was preparing to give battle to the eternal enemies of France.

Doctor Charles Ternant, quivering with patriotic enthusiasm, called his wife and children to him. Then, taking his son in his arms, he raised him above the railings and, showing him the two French ships sailing triumphantly through the calm and clear waters:

“Guillaume,” he cried, “look closely at these passing boats and engrave their image in your memory. It is the glory of your homeland that you see. Do not forget it. Vive le France !"

"Vive le France !" repeated the pure voice of the little boy. Guillaume Ternant should not forget this day.

As the  two ships swept by, the Clarisse was gaining on the English, overtaking them to block their path, then coming back at them like lightning. Suddenly a burst of smoke belched from the corsair as her guns fired, briefly conceealing her from view. The English fired back bravely, and there ws a furious exchange of fire. 

The Clarisse recieved fire from both of  her two enemies. But soon, leaving  the brig to deal with  the sloop, she rushed on the second vessel and began to overwhelmingly cannonade it. The Clarisse was a terrible warrior who did not waste her blows. One of its cannonballs razed the English ship's  foresail, a second brought down the mainmast. Unable to maneuver, the ship had to raise its flag.

It was then the sloop’s turn. She was undoubtedly commanded by a more valiant officer, because she defended herself with rage. The cannons of the Clarisse and those of the brig filled her with cannonballs. After half an hour of fighting, it became clear that the British vessel, hit below the waterline, had a fatal leak.

The Clarisse returned on her route. She had suffered damage which required a prompt return to French waters. She therefore took the Bretagne under her protection. The merchant  ship needed to replenish its provisions, given the enormous loss of time it had suffered. In recognition of the service rendered, Captain Kerruon offered to take on board the seriously injured people of the Clarisse. It was in this circumstance that Guillaume Ternant had the opportunity to see Robert Surcouf. (1_12b)

The famous privateer was still a very young man, having just reached his twenty-sixth year. He was a man of above average height, of prodigious vigor beneath an elegant and frail appearance. He had a particular facial beauty, which resided above all in the strangely fierce expression of his pupils during action and their almost feminine softness when at rest. This had given him a unique reputation among the English, his hated enemies, because, for all the facial lines and classic regularity, the St-Malouin could be considered ugly.

He had been injured during the fight by a splinter of wood, a splinter of which had embedded itself deeply in his right hand, which caused him great pain. Informed that there was a doctor on board the Bretagne, he went over, and came to ask Doctor Ternant for treatment, which the latter was only too happy to provide.

With consummate skill, the Brest surgeon managed to extract the splinter. Then he made the wound bleed and  debrided it, washed it with sea water and applied a bandage which, after eight days, restored Surcouf to the use of his hand. The corsair thanked him effusively, and, kissing the young doctor's two children, said to the father, holding out his left hand, the only one he could still use:

“It’s between us, life and death, Doctor Ternant. We are doubly compatriots, since I am from Saint-Malo and you are from Brest. If you, your wife or your children ever need me, remember that I am your friend forever."

And, lifting, with his Herculean arm, little William, whom he placed on a capstan, he exclaimed:

“Doctor, if you don’t have any special intentions regarding this kid, give him to me. I'll make a sea-hawk (1_13) out of him."

"Oh ! yes, oh! Yes," cried the little boy, throwing himself on the corsair's neck, "I want to be a sailor like you."

The Bretagne took only eight days to reach the French island. The weather was magnificent and the English did not dare to worry trade. They knew Surcouf was raiding.

Alas! this was only a momentary respite for the Bretagne. To return to America, it had to retrace its path, to once again face the Cape, the dangers of denying it and those of men. This time, it did not escape. When, after a ten-day stopover, necessary for the replenishment of supplies and the repair of certain damages, the three-masted ship returned to sea, it blundered at night into the heart of an English naval squadron, seven vessels leaving the Cape, in the hope  of trapping Surcouf,  who had just so cruelly humiliated the British flag. The Bretagne had to surrender. The English sorted through the prisoners. A quarter of them were interned in Cape Town; another quarter were put on a boat sailing towards India; Captain Kerruon and his crew were sent to the  prison-hulks; and the  Bretagne, now renamed by  the British as the  Earl of Essex, transported  the remainder of these miserable emigrants, whose extreme destitution disarmed the enemy, to Buenos Aires (1_14).

Among the captives taken to India were Doctor Charles Ternant and his family.

With unjustifiable barbarity, the father was separated from his wife and children. The suspicious mind of the jailers caused the men to be interned on the island of Salsette, near Bombay;  the women and children  were deposited at various points on the Malabar coast. Salsette was a cruel and unfair captivity. Crowded into a pestilential islet, with only half-collapsed huts to sleep on and only a few handfuls of rice to eat, the unfortunate prisoners were quickly cut down by illness. Doctor Ternant was one of the few who resisted the pernicious influence of the climate.

But, in the close quarters of the jail, irritated by the ignominious procedures and  ill-treatment, he was not always in control of his temper and, one day when the relentlessness of the guards had pushed his long-suffering to the limit, he lost his temper, to the  point of  harshly reproaching the supervising officer for his lack of consideration. Eager to demonstrate his education, the Englishman responded to the Frenchman's reproaches by sending him a Cartel of Honor.

At that time, in England, as in most of Europe, dueling, while ilegal, was unofficially tolerated (1_14a)  Ternant took two seconds from among his fellow prisoners. The prisoners had no weapons, of course. The soldiers who guarded them were forbidden, under penalty of death, to leave them any instrument or utensil that could be used as a weapon. They had neither knives, nor hammers, in a word, any tool which could become an object or means of offensive. It therefore seemed that the meeting had been made impossible. The mocking officer had already offered the doctor a boxing duel, and the Breton, without being intimidated, had accepted this ultimatum. However, he added to the conditions of the cartel:

“Tell Lieutenant Seaford that I reserve the right, after a fist fight, to ask him for reparation by arms, if I happen to obtain it by any means."

And the Englishman, bursting out laughing, had subscribed to this clause. However, it happened that the Indian servant girl (1_15), responsible for bringing the doctor his meager daily subsistence, was able to clandestinely give him a pair of scissors, one of the blades of which was had a rounded tip. Unscrewing the scissors, sharpening the round tip on a hard stone, in order to make a point approximately equal to that of the other blade, then attaching both blades to two very smooth rattan canes, yo make two short spears, similar to a Spanish bullfighter's banderillas (1_16), was for the doctor,  a matter of a day's work.

The next day, he showed up for the fight at the appointed time and gave the Englishman a thumping, one of those beatings that only Bretons know how to give so masterfully.  The enraged officer needed no persuasion to accept the bizarre duel which was offered to him as revenge. Here again, Doctor Ternant was victorious,  plunging his entire point, approximately three inches of steel, into his opponent's right shoulder. He himself received a slash on the wrist to which he attached no importance.

The Confiance was truly a beautiful ship. It was the type of vessel whose purpose was obvious from its appearance (7_1_1). High at the front, it was even higher at the rear. Its three masts, raked slightly backwards, carried their square sails proudly. The ship behaved at sea like a thoroughbred horse under the hand of an experienced rider. Its broad sides sat well on the water and supported it like the seahorses of mythology harnessed to the chariot of Neptune. And, each time it moved, one could see the fourteen golden muzzles of its cannons on each side gleam in the gunports. A larger cannon was mounted as a "bow-chaser," a little behind the bowsprit, and a smaller one as a stern-chaser" on the sternpost. Surcouf had, in fact, expressed a remarkable opinion on this question, worthy of his impetuous valor. “The enemy must only see me when I rush towards him, and, if he takes the fancy to turn against me, he must know that I have the scorpion’s sting."

And yet he sighed when people complimented him on his ship. This robust Confidence was not yet the ship of his dreams. “No doubt, no doubt,” he said, nodding his head, “it’s a good animal, which does its job well. But it's just a workhorse, worthy of the gallants of the good old days (7_1_2). It would look better with iron armor. What I dream of is a fine, slender boat, as lean as an Arab steed, which can spin its twelve or thirteen knots in a good wind."

Thus the illustrious corsair already had the conception of our contemporary iron-clad navy, with its division into battleships and cruisers. At that time, Robert Surcouf, barely thirty-two years old, already had the reputation of one of the most skillful sea-runners anyone could meet. He had just definitively won the major lawsuit that he had been pursuing for nine years against the colonial administration for the settlement of his part in the capture of the Triton, an English ship of twenty-six guns, and four other ships of the same nation and a Danish ship,  which had been valued at one hundred and sixteen thousand piastres. Napoleon, having become emperor on December 2, 1804 (7_1_3), had, by his authority, liquidated this quarrel, and had awarded the valiant sailor a payment of fifteen hundred thousand francs in prize money, plus two hundred thousand taken from his personal coffers. The two years of peace which the world had enjoyed had created leisure for this tireless battler, and he had occupied them in drawing up the plan of the ideal ship in which he intended to resume his terrible hunting.  As soon as the Peace of Amiens (7_1_4) broke down, he accelerated (7_1_5) its construction. Currently, the future privateer was on the building ways of Saint-Denis, and it was possible to see and appreciate  its elegant hull shape.

Surcouf had done a splendid job, spending  five hundred thousand francs to the construction of this marvelous vessel. In the meantime, taken by surprise, he had been forced to use Confiance. It was on board the Confiance that he had just engaged in battle with, and sunk, an English corvette. After capturing its crew, he had generously released them at the southern tip of the Maldives, putting them aboard an English merchant ship, which he captured, and then released with its cargo, in exchange for the  repatriation of their unfortunate compatriots. This exploit, worthy of ancient heroes, had earned the young corsair immense fame, and when he returned to Ille De France, towards the end of August, he found the population in turmoil. He was received triumphantly; triumphal arches were erected for him, flowers and palm leaves were thrown under his feet. The English governor of Madras sent him a message with a gilded official seal (7_2_1) to compliment him on his magnanimity. Surcouf became the hero of sea legends.

However, at the same time, serious events were taking place in Europe. France lost its last fleet and England its most illustrious sailor. On October 21, 1805, in fact, while Napoleon, whose plans to invade Great Britain had ground to a halt at the Boulogne camp, victoriously entered Vienna, moved into the Palace of Schoenbrunn,  and was preparing to crush the first coalition at Austerlitz, Admiral Nelson died gloriously at Trafalgar, after destroying the Franco-Spanish ships of Villeneuve, and killing the two admirals Magon and Gravina. This news crossed the globe and added new stimulants to the patriotic fevers of the two rival nations.

Stories of all kinds circulated, inflaming the ardor of the fighters. The English repeated Nelson's last words to each other with awe. Addressing his flag captain, the admiral, hit by a bullet in the chest and feeling death coming, had cried out as he fell: “Hardy, Hardy, the French are done with me."

For their part, the French  cited acts of heroic constancy. They compared Nelson to the French Admiral  Dupetit-Thouars at Aboukir, who, having both legs carried off by a cannonball, had had himself placed in a barrel of bran, in order to attenuate the loss of blood, enabling him to command until his last breath the maneuver of the vessels placed under his command. All this fueled conversations and kept the energy burning. Details abounded, as the English and French gazettes dwelt at length on the event, speaking of the incredible bravery displayed on both sides, such as the prodigious fight sustained by the valiant commander Lucas of the Redoutable against the Victory, which carried the mortally wounded Nelson, and, at the same time,  against the Neptune , another English vessel of eighty guns.

While waiting to set sail, Evel, Ustaritz and little Will spent their days around the port, impatiently following the progress of the repairs being made to the Confiance, and the ongoing construction of the new ship.  which Surcouf reserved for himself. Because the privateer was believed to have the intention of acting on a larger scale, that is to say, of setting off on a cruise with two ships,  public rumor already pointed to as Jacques de Clavaillan as the captain of the second. Rumor wasn't wrong. Surcouf had called in his compatriot who was at the same time his brother in arms, and had suggested that they team up to give chase to the enemy. “Marquis,” he told him with his usual directness, “I leave you the choice of becoming a lieutenant on board again, or of assisting me by taking command of another ship yourself."

To which Clavaillan responded in the same tone: “Speak plainly, Robert. I understand well that all the time that the English kept me in their friendly company, you could not do without a lieutenant. And, now, it is difficult for you to dismiss this brave Cléden, or to bring him down a rank to put him below me. He is, in fact, an excellent sailor and, moreover, a man to whom I owe respect for his age.

“You guessed it, my dear Jacques,” replied Surcouf, laughing.

“Consequently,” continued the Marquis, “although you leave me the choice, I hardly have it. I therefore agree to command your second ship. Only, where is this second one? Because I don't imagine that the one we're building for you at the moment can be launched for at least two months."

"That's ehere you're wrong, sailor. It will be ready in two weeks."

"In fifteen days? Are you kidding me."

"Not at all. In two weeks, I said it and I repeat it."

"But everything has to be done inside. The two decks  are barely finished. There are no partitions or cabins. The beam hold is not fitted out."

"Let’s see," said Surcouf, shrugging his shoulders, "you’re not seriously telling me that? Have you visited the boat? All that's missing, to tell the truth, is the rigging. For the rest, the carpenters will finish it at sea.”

And, putting his arm around Clavaillan, Surcouf led him to the building-way. There he showed him  around the new ship in all its details. The ship was being built according to Surcouf's own  plans and sections.  Son of a shipowner, the privateer had, in some way, suckled his vocation as a sailor with his mother's milk. He had learned this construction trade since his childhood in the shipyards which supplied his father with his best and fastest ships. Even, in these times of early youth, his numerous and unexpected escapes  from the college, from which he had ended up being expelled, had been a perpetual cause of worry to  the Surcouf family. If the child had learned neither Latin nor Greek, on the other hand, he had learned all the physical exercises and had acquired a consummate knowledge of construction. He had just provided proof of this by putting into construction the new vessel with which he was preparing to sail the seas, and to which, by allusion to his inaction at the peace of Amiens, and especially responding to the persistent rumor of his death, he had given the significant name Revenant, thereby indicating that the resurrected Surcouf would be more formidable than the living Surcouf.

The Revenant was a ship sixty-eight meters long, with a tonnage of three thousand tons, with a narrow and tapered hull, a hollow and receding bow, with hollow cheeks and strong haunches. Its keel, by a design later adopted by racing boats, was deeper at the front than at the stern, so that it seemed to rest simply on the water. (7_4_1) A triple balcony adorned the stern-post and the forecastle was protected by planks clad in sheet steel, another innovation by which the young sailor anticipated the construction of the future. The three masts were raked forward,  in order to take the full force of the wind and at the same time, to bend rather than breaking in sudden gusts. The main deck was  topped with a light "spar deck," rather than the usual gangways along the sides above the guns, running from the forecastle to the quarterdeck,  extensively pierced with large gratings to allow light and ventilation down on the main deck, but not solid enough to bear guns. Sailors could swing their hammocks from the underside of the spar deck, above the guns on the maindeck, and could use the upper surface as a sort of dayroom. And the sails could be managed from the spar deck without getting in the way of the gunners below. The whole structure was light enough to not materially affect the ship's balance.

The question of  crew quarters required meticulous arrangement.  “You see,” said Surcouf to Clavaillan, “I have my very strong ideas on this. The best sailors in France and around the world are the Bretons. After them come the people of the Basque country and those of the coasts of Flanders. Mocos have qualities of liveliness and good humor which make them valuable in a crew. I will therefore try to assemble all these elements in mine. But, as it is possible that I will not find them in the desirable proportions, I will make up for them with Negroes, Hindus and Malays, who, well supervised and well trained, still make very passable sailors." However, it was necessary to arrange for each group to have its own section of the hammock space, its own area of the hurricane deck, and, in the case of the hindus and malays, their own cooking arrangements.

Surcouf and Clavaillan therefore set out to find the men necessary for this special organization. In the few weeks before setting sail, each of the two expedition leaders used their time in the best interests of the joint venture.

However busy he was with his duties as commander, Jacques de Clavaillan did not forget his young friend Guillaume Ternant. Will was now twelve years old, and his baptism as a sailor had been rough enough for him to become familiar with the sea. But he still had to learn war, and that wasn't very easy either.  A new scruple haunted the soul of the young marquis, a scruple worthy of the great delicacy of which he had already given so much proof to the Ternant family. He wondered if he really had the right to drag this child into the hazards of his adventurous career and expose him to its formidable dangers. So he called Will and questioned him carefully. The boy immediately guessed, from his friend's countenance, that new doubts had assailed his friend's mind. He therefore stood before Clavaillan, his heart gripped with worry, maintaining a silence, which howover betrayed his anguish.

“Guillaume,” began Jacques de Clavaillan, “we are on the eve of setting sail. When it's time to leave, I hesitate to take you."

"Are you hesitating?" Will whispered. And, as the marquis remained silent, he  continued: “Aren’t you happy with me? Did I do something wrong?"

"No,"  replied spontaneously. "I have nothing but praise for you."

"So why don’t you want to take me?"

"I didn’t say I don’t want to, Will. I said that I hesitate."

"It comes down to the same thing, good friend. Why are you hesitating?"

The marquis was standing. He paced the room with long strides, his hands behind his back, in visible perplexity.

“It’s been a year since I left India,” Will continued, “and my resolve has not wavered. More than ever, I want to be a sailor. I told you."

Jacques stood in front of him, arms crossed, looking at him closely:

“I understand that, Will. But a sailor is not the same thing as a  privateer."

"What's the diference, then?" asked the boy naively.

The question was so natural, so frank, that Clavaillan burst out laughing. “You haven’t thought about it,” he continued. Have you ever wondered if there are sailors in times of peace? What do they do?"

"Pardon me! I have asked myself this question. I know very well that there are sailors other than in times of war, and I can even less doubt that my first voyage was on a merchant ship."

"Well ! you just answered your question yourself, Will."

"In this case, good friend, there is no possible error. I don't want to be a commercial sailor."

"How so? Wouldn’t you enjoy traveling the sea like a professional traveler, seeing the country, breathing the fresh air of the sea?"

"We have this same pleasure without being a simple merchant sailor."

  Clavaillan felt some embarrassment, and a difficulty in explaining his meaning. He pointed to a seat for his young friend, and said softly: “Sit down and listen to me carefully. I will explain more clearly. I understand that you don’t want to be a sailor to convey barrels of wine, bags of spices or bales of cotton. But there is another way to be a sailor and claim the glory of maritime life."

"Without doubt, interrupted the child, it is to be free like you, that is to say a corsair, and to give battle to the English every day."

A new smile played on the lips of Jacques de Clavaillan. “So,” he said, “for you, there are only two kinds of sailors: privateers and those who are not? Is that how you understand it?"

And, as the little boy nodded yes, Jacques continued: " Well ! there is another way to be a sailor, and even, to tell the truth, it is the best, if not the only way, to be gloriously one."

Guillaume opened his eyes wide, full of astonishment.

“You will understand,” continued his interlocutor, "We corsairs are only such because it is not possible for us to be anything else. We are the irregulars of the sea, barely a little more than pirates, with this difference however that we fight for the homeland and that we are authorized to do so by letters of Marque and Reprisal (7_7_1). But that doesn't stop the English from treating us like real bandits, and, if we are unfortunate enough to let ourselves be caught, from hanging us from the yards of their ships or sending us to rot in the prison -hulks. The real sailors who are treated as prisoners of war are those who serve on state ships. These are regulars. They obey precise orders, they have officers raised in schools (7_7_2); they have large ships with large cannons and they give battle to the enemy, having on their side the rights of war."

"And," asked Will, "are they better than the others?"

Jacques de Clavaillan was speechless for a moment, taken aback by this strange question, under which he sensed an irony: "What do you mean 'best'? What do you mean by that ?" he asked.

"I want to know if they are braver, if they know the job better."

"Oh, lord! we must assume so, since they study for that."

"So how is it that they were beaten twice at Aboukir and Trafalgar, while neither Surcouf nor you were ever beaten?"

The objection was serious. It went against the intentions of the marquis. “Kid,” he replied, a little gruffly, “the bravest and most skilful men can have bad luck, circumstances against them, all sorts of unforeseen obstacles. This does not prove that they are worth less than others, but only that they are less fortunate." Cutting these reflections short, he in turn asked a direct question: “Would you like to be one of those sailors, William, to work and study with a view to becoming an officer and thus have a regular career?"

The child's eyes lit up. A flame suddenly glowed there. “And you think I could serve my country just as well?"

"You would serve it better, since you would give it your whole life, you would devote your entire career to it. It would be the noblest of existences."

"And could I be more useful to my mother and sister by doing so?"

"Your mother and your sister would better enjoy the fortune and glory that you could acquire. France lacks sailors. The path is wide open to you. You just have to enter it resolutely."

  Will had tilted his head. He was thinking. When he picked it up, his thoughts had become precise. He asked:“But, to become an officer, to do these studies that you tell me about, you have to go to France, don’t you?"

"Yes, naturally."

"So you would take me back to France?"

Clavaillan made an evasive gesture and replied in a similar tone: “Most certainly, I will take you to France as soon as I can."

"As soon as you can? And when will that be?"

"Oh, Lord! When the sea is free, when we have rid it of the English, in a year or two, when the Emperor has landed in England and taken London."

"And, until then," sighed Will, "what should I do?"

"Until then, we will put you in a school  here, and you can begin your studies."

Then Will said, decidedly, and in manlyv fashion: "No, good friend, I don't want that. You took me to make me Surcouf's apprentice. Later I may become a naval officer, please God. For now, an apprentice I am, an apprentice I will stay."

And that was the end of the conversation between the man and the boy

------------------------------------------------------------------------


Jacques de Clavaillan went to find Surcouf. He let his admiration burst forth with a sincerity that made his comrade-in-arms laugh. “Truly, Robert, you amaze me. There is not a shipowner, not a builder in the whole world who could have designed and executed the plan for such a ship. This is a frigate that will go toe to toe with any three-decker."

"You see," Surcouf replied, "this proves that parents are not always right to want to impose a career on their children. If, instead of studying Latin and Greek at college, I had not spent my time studying the boats in the port and drawing countless carcasses in my notebooks, which earned me many thoughts, I would not have come  to know the principles of naval construction thoroughly."

“Today, I know, to within a tenth, how many nails, rivets and pegs are needed for a ship of the line, as well as for a fishing boat; what is the best sailcloth, the best hemp, the best tar. I can, by touch alone, assess the quality of a pine or teak plank, and, if I found myself all alone in a forest of these two species of trees, with provisions, a saw, a gouge, a hammer and nails, I would build myself a decked boat better than Father Noah built his ark. And it would hold water, I guarantee it."

"Yes, but it wouldn't have as many passengers as the ark."

"No doubt, but I wouldn't take a hundred years to build it like him."

'And what are you going to call it, this masterpiece?"

" A name that will have a beautiful meaning. As you see it, my frigate reproduces the type of the most perfect of our ships, the Redoutable which has just been taken at Trafalgar and which the English then lost at Cadiz, on Diamond Point, in the storm which followed the naval battle. Furthermore, as since the breaking of the peace I have only made one sea voyage, the one where I picked you up, you and your companions, I will seem to have come from the other world. So I will name my beautiful ship the Revenant."

"Well done!" exclaimed Jacques, clapping his hands. "That's a beautiful name! And I imagine you will arm it accordingly? But where will you get the cannons?"

"The cannons ? But I already have them. First the thirty-four of the Confiance."

Clavaillan interrupted him quickly and asked cheerfully: “That’s why, of course,  you give me Confiance!. Thank you very much."

The two men stopped for a moment to laugh freely.

" It's true ! I no longer thought of you, my poor Jacques. But, listen to me, there is still a way to make everything right. You'll see."

And he began to explain to the Marquis that, independently of the twenty-four cannons, or carronades, which he had had to reserve to arm the Revenant, he had twelve or fifteen pieces of various ranges remaining. “With that, there is enough to arm a brig to the teeth."

 "le's use the brig! Between us, I like that better. It's more up my alley. And then, frankly speaking, your Confiance hardly inspired me."

"Me neither, comrade! It's not a racing vessel."

"So, we use the brig. But it also has to be ready in two weeks."

"It will be, thunder of Brest! And, in two weeks, we will set sail in unison. January is a good season for running in the tropics."

He was telling the truth. At the end of two weeks, the two corsair vessels received their baptism simultaneously, and the Revenant emerged triumphantly from its cradle, saluting the four points of the compass and receiving on its port side the salute of the broken bottle. The brig had received, for the occasion, a significant name. Clavaillan had dedicated it to memory by calling it Sainte-Anne, after the ship on which the Spanish hero Gravina had been killed.

“By the way,” said the marquis to his leader, during the farewell banquet which preceded departure, “did I tell you that the charming Lady Blackwood has instructed me to recommend to your courtesy a cousin of hers?"

"No, by my faith! you didn't tell me anything about it. This is the first news."

"In this case, know that this cousin is called Lady Stanhope, that she left England to join her husband in India, and that she brought from Europe a famous piano, a procession of pianos, it seems, or rather two, one of which is intended for Lady Blackwood herself."

"What do you want me to do about this piano? And why are you telling me this story?"

"Because I committed you, Robert. I gave my word for you."

"Your word for me? And about what, thricefold-madman?"

"I promised that you would return the two pianos safe and sound to the two kind ladies. My promise was taken for a gasconade (7_11_1), but I mean to keep it."

Surcouf scratched his head and replied, half angry, half laughing: “My dear fellow, you have made a singular commitment here. First of all, I cannot answer that these precious music boxes will not be damaged."

"That's all right. I excepted the risk of  cannonballs and sea water."

"Well, that's  something, but it's not everything. In a pinch, I can guarantee the return of one out of two pianos, the one that falls into my lot. But the other rightfully belongs to the administration's share."

"Make arrangements, my good Robert. I gave my word, that’s all I know."

"Hey! you were wrong to do so, by thunder! How much do these women's toys cost?"

"Seven thousand francs each, in France. But out here, God knows,  it might  be double."

"Well, my comrade, you are not going easy on yourself. Fourteen thousand francs to pay to the taxman, and all for the beautiful eyes of an Englishwoman! As a result, I will have to kill two or three of King George's officers to take their purses.

“One more word,” Clavaillan continued, "have you ever met the corvette Eagle?"

"Never. But I know that she sails that way and that her captain is a tough and insolent bittern whose name, I think, is Blackford."

"That’s it. I knew one of his relatives in Madras, and I promised to plant these favors she gae me in him with my sword in the breast."

And he showed Surcouf the yellow ribbons of the Englishwoman.

---

Surcouf's crew was as numerous  as that of a warship. He had on board four hundred and twenty men, three hundred of them recruited from both  the sailors of the island and from those whom the rumor of his exploits had attracted from France. Sixty others were Irish, Italians, Spanish, Greeks. The rest was made up of Negroes and Indian half-castes. All these men were distinguished by a fierce bravery which made them the most formidable plunderers that could have been assembled.

Clavaillan had only ninety-two men on board, sixty of whom were unskilled "landsmen," (8_1_1) making up the bulk of the gun crews, as well as performing other duties.  The thirty-two others, including Evel, Ustaritz and Will, were the real sailors, topmen and cabin boys. These men were enough for the Sainte-Anne to maneuver freely. The brig was going to be a good sidekick to the ship.

  They set sail in the first half of January 1806. (8_1_2) First, the two ships took the northeast route, hoping to find easy prey to get their hands on. But the first months were unsuccessful.

At that moment, despite the defeat of Trafalgar, France and the Empire were still, at least on land, at the height of their glory. While England had destroyed the French fleet on the coast of Spain, Napoleon, forced to abandon his plans for an invasion of England, had broke up the invasion camp at Boulogne, crossed the Rhine and captured the Austrian general Mack with thirty thousand men. in the Battle of Ulm (October 16-19, 1805). A month and a half later, he had broken the coalition with the thunderbolt of the battle of  Austerlitz (December 2, 1805), crushing the Austro-Russian army and forcing Emperor Francis to sue for peace. These brilliant victories had brought about the short-lived Peace of Pressburg [Batislava] (December 26, 1805), which was nevertheless sufficient to subdue Europe and to intimidate England for a time. In addition, it was hoped that  France could  rebuild its fleets and then focus all its efforts on the ocean.

This rebuilding was causing concern to  the merchant shipowners of Great Britain, and, although they built ships with feverish haste, few of their ships ventured  beyond the South Atlantic.  Hence there were  few opportunities offered to Surcouf and his companions. It was for this same reason that Colonel Stanhope's wife, Lady Blackwood's cousin, had not dared to go to sea and had postponed her departure from England.

The privateer was informed of the news from Europe by an English three-masted ship which he managed to capture around the middle of March. He was too good a sailor not to know which route the tall ships preferred to follow. Now that he had two ships at his disposal, he resolved to act as squadron leader and drew up a plan of attack to which he associated Clavaillan, whose St. -Anne fulfilled the role of scout.


 They therefore went down below the equator, and began to cruise at the latitude  of the French islands and the Cape of Good Hope, in order to surprise the convoys at this always dangerous angle of navigation. Surcouf stayed out to sea, and the marquis had the mission of  probing the inshore waters along  the coasts of Africa, where English ships might have taken  refuge, as much against the perils of the sea as against the surprises of war.

Searching the innumerable gulfs and bays caused delays, but, at the same time, it insured them against surprize  attacks from the rear. They could thus advance southward, step by step, reach the coast of Madagascar and, depending on the opportunity, follow the direct route by the high seas or throw themselves into the Mozambique Channel.

Despite the assurances of the English Admiralty, the merchants were not confident, knowing the terrible approaches to the French islands; that, for Surcouf, there existed neither time nor space; and that the formidable corsair suddenly appeared, as quick as lightning, where he was least expected. It was to overcome this English caution that Surcouf, in agreement with Clavaillan, had resolved to search the coasts of Africa.

It was a very audacious strategy.  What could the brig with its twelve cannons do against a frigate or even a simple corvette, if it came across it? But the constant success of his enterprises had made audacity precisely one of Surcouf's methods. He also counted on the prodigious speed of his ships. With a good wind, the Sainte-Anne, as well as the Revenant, could sail twelve knots. Clavaillan therefore boldly set out in search of English ships.


Surcouf's decision was   correct. In less than a month, around Delagoa Bay, he had sunk six ships and captured four. They were small catches, to tell the truth, but the total amounted to a million piasters. The young lieutenant of Surcouf had done a good job everywhere, and it was in triumph that he was received each time he returned to French ports, dragging in his tow the ships taken from the enemy. For his part, Surcouf did not remain inactive. His sip skimmed the sea with lightning speed, and such was the rapidity of the maneuvers of the two corsairs that the frightened English believed in the presence of an entire flotilla bent on the destruction of their commerce.

In India these delays were felt, and products from Europe had become fabulously expensive. They no longer drank wine, beer or whiskey except in small sips, and the wives of the officers of His British Majesty were reduced to dressing like the wives of rich Indian merchants.(8_2_1) Continual imprecations sprang from everyone's mouths, and everyone sought  to invent a more violent curse against this damned Surcouf and his cursed lieutenants.This was happening during the year 1806, and the pride of Albion suffered serious humiliations, while the world resounded with the noise of Napoleon's glory. Jena had terrified Europe, and the coalition of Prussia, Russia and England was still going to suffer the terrible blows of Eylau and Friedland.

In January 1807, Clavaillan captured a three-masted ship, the Good Hope, belonging to the house of Jameson and Co, of London, which had been bound for Bombay. On this ship, among other goods, he found a full load of wine and fabrics. But what pleased him more, was the discovery, on board the ship, of a complete assortment of English newspapers, which gave him better information than  any confidential dispatch.

 The newspapers reported  that a squadron of six ships was crossing the Atlantic to reinforce that of Commodore John Harris, in order to purge the Indian Ocean of the corsairs who infested it. An extremely daring idea immediately sprouted in the Marquis’s mind. He therefore hastened to rejoin his leader and explain his project to him. The Good Hope, a large ship of un-warlike appearance  was nonetheless an fast-sailing ship The rich cargo it was carrying was accompanied by a bundle of drafts payable on sight by the corresponding house of London merchants.  Leafing through the papers collected, Clavaillan found a coded dispatch formulating the captain's instructions: “Travel, if possible, under the French flag, with a crew of Spaniards, Maltese and Greeks (8_2_2), in order to deceive  the corsairs."

The captain and his mate were the only English on board. Clavaillan took advantage of this opportunity to accomplish one of the most perilous ruses of war that Forbin (8_2_3) had ever implemented. He came to find Surcouf and submitted to him the plan of his attempt.

Surcouf listened to him silently, then, smiling, said to him: “Jacques, what you are proposing to do is a stroke of genius, but it is a very risky move. I know you can accomplish it. Do as you please."

Now, this plan,  which seemed hazardous to Surcouf himself was the following: Clavaillan was going to leave his ship under the command of his mate,  in  order to himself take command of the Good Hope, and would then  sail to Bombay where, dressed up and unrecognizable, and using his knowledge of the English language to pose as the English captain, he would deliver the ship's cargo, would receive the amount of the drafts taken with the English ship, and would return to sea under the British flag.

At this moment, the two corsairs were cruising off the Seychelles. After a forty-eight hour stopover to repair the superficial damage that the Sainte-Anne's cannon had caused to the side of the Good Hope, the latter, leaving the English captain and mate in the hands of the privateers, but keeping its crew of Greeks, Maltese and Spaniards, reinforced by half a dozen Negroes,  whom Clavaillan had placed Evel and Ustaritz in command of, peacefully resumed its course.

It was now a question of carrying out the young corsair's perilous project. Naturally, Will Ternant, although he knew nothing about this project, was part of the new crew. Raised in India, he spoke Tamil, used on the Malabar coast, and perfect unaccented English, making him indistinguishable from an English boy.  Clavaillan saw him as a valuable helper.

They were fortunately helped by the monsoon, and they entered English waters around the middle of February. The time had come to use all the trickery they were capable of. Clavaillan therefore called his three companions to his side. He held council with them and explained his intentions to them. At first, it was a real shock. Neither Evel nor Ustaritz would have dared to believe in such audacity on the part of their leader. But astonishment soon gave way to the most lively admiration.

“Let’s see,” said Jacques, “we must not waste time. Let us arrange all things in view of the role we are going to play. Do you speak English, Evel?"

"Hm!" said the Breton, “I speak it badly, but I speak it."

"Too bad ! I speak it well, but I was a prisoner in Bombay. I'm afraid of being recognized. You would have to pass as my second."

"Why do that, Captain?"

"I will tell you. You would declare that I am ill, and that we don't really know what it is. I take it upon myself to simulate an eruptive illness."

"Ah! And why will you fake this illness, Captain?"

"Because we will be quarantined, and a doctor will be sent to visit the ship. However, their doctors are not very competent. Whoever they send will believe everything I tell him."

"Well, but I won't  look like much of an Englishman."

The remark was correct. It made the young officer frown. " It is really boring. I will be forced to risk the affair (8_4_1) myself."

Clavaillan dismissed his companions in order to meditate alone on the course of action to take. Locked in his cabin, he began to leaf through the ship's roster. The information it provided about the sailors  was brief. Captain Frank Hollis was born in London. So he was a pure Englishman. As for the mate, John Llewellyn, he was originally from Wales. Upon learning of this detail, the marquis could not restrain a cry of joy. He immediately called Guillaume and the two sailors back.

“Evel,” he said, “you were born in Leon, near Morlaix (8_4_2), if I’m not mistaken.

"Yes, Captain."

"And you must know how to speak Bas-Breton, I imagine?"

"Oh, of course, captain!  I speak it better than French."

"Well ! my boy, we are saved. Listen carefully to what I'm going to tell you.'

The three listeners opened their eyes full of astonishment.

Clavaillan continued: “Look at this paper.,” he said, pointing to the roster. "The ship's first mate is John Llewyn. He is a Welshman, like a twin brother of the Bretons, and the language of the Welsh is a first cousin of Breton."

"I don't understand very well," replied Evel, whose bright features confirmed this statement abundantly.

"You don’t understand, iron head! However, it is easy to understand."

And, insisting on his words, he gave all the desired explanation. “It is you who will become the second Llewyn, while I will be Captain Frank Hollis. The little English you speak will be enough. For the rest, you'll jabber some Breton for them, and Will will accompany you to spare you any nonsense and help you get out of trouble."

Evel nodded, but finally agreed: "Ah! If the cabin boy comes with me, that’s fine. I would never have gotten out of trouble on my own. But with him, it's different. We will succeed."

Then Clavaillan questioned  the Basque: “And you, Piarrille, do you speak a little English?

“Almost  nothing,” replied Ustaritz. Besides, I have an obviously  foreign accent."

"Alright. But, at least, as a Pyrenean, do you know a few words of Spanish, so as to make yourself understood by those on board? I don't ask you any more."

"Oh,  for that, Captain, I give you my word! I speak Spanish as well as French, without bragging, I assure you."

"Damn!" exclaimed the marquis. "It would perhaps be better if you simply spoke French to them, in that case."

Ustaritz did not understand the irony, which wrinkled Will  Ternant's lips with an imperceptible smile. But this irony was not justified, because, the same day, when going back on deck, Clavaillan was able to ensure that Ustaritz made himself understood very well.

Moreover, that same day, Ustaritz gave him good news: “Captain,” he said, “I have just learned something that delighted me. The six Spanish sailors on board profess a holy hatred of the English. They are secret agents (8_5_1) who only took service on the Good Hope to be able to avenge the disaster of their fleet at Trafalgar on the Ingliches. They told me that they had formed the plan to kill their captain and their second, to seize the ship and to come and join Surcouf."

This revelation found the Marquis, if not incredulous, at least suspicious: “Hmm! he said, I don't really believe in this conspiracy story. However, it could be true. However, be on your guard and be careful not to reveal anything about our plans to them."

"Rest easy, Captain. We'll put a thirty-six ball on our tongue."And, in fact, Pierre Ustaritz, until then talkative like a one-eyed magpie, became mute like a carp. He didn't say a word.

The moment was becoming critical and they  were in sight of the Coromandel Coast. Clavaillan, after taking bearings on landmarks, noted that the next day, around three o'clock in the afternoon, they would enter the port of Bombay. This was the time to take the last precautionary measures.

Consequently, Clavaillan prepared himself a mixture of plants that he had known for a long time and whose very harsh juice had the property of turning the skin red like a cooked lobster shell and covering it with blisters of terrifying appearance.He ordered Evel to take effective command of the ship
.
The Breton had taken his role to heart. He steered cautiously in the dangerous surroundings of the great Indian port, and signaled for a pilot. Then, when he was questioned, he announced that there was a sick person on board, which immediately earned him the order to stop. A boat, manned by twelve men and an officer and carrying a doctor, approached the contaminated boat at a respectful distance.

Arriving within sufficient range, the officer of the boat began the conversation with the help of the megaphone: “Did you announce that there were sick people on board?"

It was Will who whispered the answers to the too simple Breton.

“I didn’t say people, I said a patient,” replied Evel.

"And who is this patient?"

"Captain Frank Hollis himself."

"Ah! And what is he sick with? Since when ?"

"About three days ago. It is, I believe, scarlet fever."

There are few diseases that the English fear as much as scarlet fever to which their temperament predisposes them and which has much more fatal effects among them than among the other races of the continent. The boat therefore stopped some distance away and ordered the Good Hope to detach its own boat to come and get the doctor. Evel hastened to obey the order given to him.

A boat was lowered. It was Ustaritz, escorted by four Spaniards, who went to seek out the English practitioner, to whom he gave the declarations signed in London and which proved authentic in the eyes of the port officer.

The doctor therefore embarked alone and came on board the three-masted ship. He went down, not without repugnance, to the captain's cabin, where  he found Clavaillan as red as a tomato, which excused the doctor from feeling his pulse. Convinced that he was dealing with a real patient, he returned to the boat, and the suspect vessel was quarantined.

There remained the question of unloading the goods. After forty-eight hours of observation, Evel was authorized to contact the correspondents of the Jameson house. But, to make the delivery, the health service decided that no member of the crew of the contaminated ship would go ashore, and that interested traders would employ native coolies to unload the goods.

“This is a wonderful precaution,” exclaimed Jacques de Clavaillan as soon as the news was communicated to him. "In this way, the Ingliches themselves spare us the difficulties of lying."

The event met the hopes of the young corsair. On the fourth day after the Good Hope had anchored off the wharf, the goods were removed, and the correspondents of the Jameson house paid into the hands of the pseudo-Captain Hollis the sum of twenty thousand pounds sterling, or half a -million francs.

“All that remains is for us to leave as quickly as possible,” concluded the marquis. When evening came, he went on deck, ensured that the area around the anchorage was free of surveillance and decided that they would weigh anchor in the morning.

Now, around midnight, there was a certain commotion in the port. A squadron composed of a frigate and two corvettes had been reported around noon, and now the lights of the three vessels announced their imminent entry into the port. The frigate was called the Kent, and of the two corvettes, one was the Eagle, commanded by Sir George Blackford, the cousin of the kind Englishwoman who had given Jacques a stream of ribbons intended to preserve him from the rope.

“It is not today that I will talk with this gentleman,” thought the Marquis. "There would be too many witnesses to our conversation." But for fear of arousing suspicion by too abrupt a departure, he had the preparations made very secretly and waited until the warships had passed the wharf landing stage. So they  greased the cables, the chains, the pulleys, and everyone got ready for the set-off. At daybreak, they weighed anchor, and the Good Hope, moving with calculated slowness, slipped through the  ships and boats surrounding her. (8_6_1)

When they were half a mile from the port, all sails were spread.  The wind was quite light and the last hours of the night gave the tall ship only a very small lead. It was, in fact, a matter of gaining speed and running south, in the anticipation that the English would have discovered the daring deception. It could be, in fact, that the flotilla had been aware of the events taking place in the vicinity of the Seychelles Islands and that its leaders had guessed the stratagem to which  Surcouf's Lieutenant had resorted. And Clavaillan was all the more eager to put space between himself and the Indian coast as he had ordered his second in command to follow him at a good distance with the Sainte Anne.

If the two ships managed to join together, the odds could be restored in favor of the privateer. Pressed too closely, he would sink the Good Hope and escape with the brig. The night ended without incident. But when the sun was up, the Good Hope's lookout signaled three sails to the northeast. Clavaillan armed himself with his telescope and recognized the ships. There was no possible doubt: the English were giving chase.

---

“Well, little Will,” said Evel to Will, “you’re doing your apprenticeship in bad conditions."

"Why bad? asked the boy."

"Because, if we are not rescued by this evening, we will again be obliged to visit the coasts and landscapes of India, unless it pleases the commander to blow us up."

"Oh!" said the boy, “that’s not a very pleasant prospect."

"As you say, kid. It's no fun getting blown up, but it's still better than surrendering. At least we keep our honor."

At this moment Jacques de Clavaillan appeared on deck. He quickly climbed the foremast, telescope in hand, and surveyed the horizon. Now the three English ships appeared distinctly. At the very front, preceding the other two by a mile, a fine corvette stood out. She was gaining speed, and it was clear that she would reach the three-masted ship by the end of the day. Jacques' orders were brief and decisive. The Good Hope spread  all  possible sails. Topgallants and royal-sails  (9_1_1) were raised, and the ship bending under the sails, giving some leeway, managed to compensate for the pace of the pursuers. At six o'clock in the evening, the corvette Eagle had not gained on them. The Good Hope maintained its distance without much difficulty. Clavaillan kept all sails on throughout the night that followed. At dawn, the English ships were still in sight to the north. But a new sail had just appeared in the southwest.

“Another Englishman!" cried Ustaritz with an angry roar.

Jacques de Clavaillan, pale but resolute, called his faithful acolytes. “Boys,” he said to them, “we have little more than the choice between the various kinds of death, for I imagine that you have no intention of surrendering."

"Ah! no, certainly not!" Evel exclaimed, clenching his fists."

"Here is what I propose to you. There are two hundred pounds of powder on board. Evel will carry two barrels to my cabin and I will place Will with the rest. He will light the fuse when ordered."

"GOOD! replied the Basque, and it is you who will give the order?"

"Yes, me. When I judge the time has come, that is to say when there is no longer any way of fleeing, I will pretend to surrender and I will allow the ship to be carried to the nearest vessel. We will stick to his side, and we will take him with us to the next world."

"Well done, Captain! Evel said. That’s acting like a Frenchman, that is. And may the good Lord forgive us if we appear before him without him having called us. But he left us no choice."

Ustaritz, however, presented a serious and natural objection: “Are you not afraid of entrusting this child with a mission that is too far beyond his strength and his character? Will he not tremble and refuse death? It is sad to drag the poor kid  into death."

Clavaillan's eyes grew moist. He wiped them quickly. “You're right, old boy. But what else can we do? If it were possible for me to send him away, I would do it with all my heart. But handing him over to the English, condemning him to life in the penal colony, to the pontoons, to all the tortures of captivity, that would be even more cruel. Besides, at the post where I place him, he will be the first to die. He won't suffer."

He abruptly interrupted the conversation with these words, and charged the two sailors to ensure the execution of his orders, keeping an eye on the Spaniards, ready for any defections.

“Send Will to me,” he ordered, dismissing them.

Five minutes later, Will entered the captain's cabin. Clavaillan called him and made him sit in front of him.

“Will,” he began in a deep voice, “did you want to be a sailor?"

"Yes," replied the boy, "I wanted it and I still want it."

"Have you carefully considered the dangers and obligations of this career?"

"Yes, said the little boy again. I knew everything that awaited me.

"No more between ourselves,  than in front of your mother and your sister, have I concealed from you the perils of the path you wanted to take. A few months ago, in Bourbon, I offered to let you complete your studies to enter the state navy. Do you have any criticism to address to me?"

"No, Captain, I just have to thank you for your affection."

Then Clavaillan was no longer in control of his emotion.“Don’t call me captain right now, talk to me like you used to, in Ootacamund, because what I want to tell you again is serious."

Will responded affectionately to this friendly word which invited him. “I have to tell you, good friend, that my heart is full of gratitude to you."

Once again tears welled up in the eyes of the young corsair. “Listen, Will. What do you think is the duty of the captain of a ship that is about to fall into the hands of the enemy?"

“He must resist with all his strength, even to the point of death,” said Guillaume boldly.

"You said well: until death, didn’t you?"

"Yes, until death. This is his duty. You taught me that yourself."

Clavaillan got up and, leading the boy onto the promenade which surrounded the stern-post of the Good Hope like a balcony, he showed him the northern horizon. “How many sails do you see there?" he asked.

"Three. These are the three English ships in front of which we are running."

"Well done ! you didn’t mean “we’re running away”. You did well."

Clavaillan took him to the other end of the balcony and asked, pointing to the southwest: “And over there, what else do you see?"

"Another sail that seems to be heading towards us."

"Yes, she’s coming towards us. Another Englishman, no doubt, attempting to cut off  our retreat?"

" Ah!" uttered the child in a deep voice, very collected. There was a moment of silence between the two interlocutors.

“Do you now understand the meaning of my words?" asked the marquis.

"I understand that, if we avoid those in the north, we come across the one in the south."

"Yes," continued Jacques, 'and, as we do not have a cannon to defend ourselves, we will be are forced to surrender."

“Or die,” the little boy said solemnly.

There was another silence, at the end of which Jacques continued: “Are you ready to die, William?"

The cabin boy turned pale, which did not prevent him from responding: “Good friend, why should I live if you died?'

And he added, with a naivety which moved the heart of the Marquis: “Does dying hurt much?"

“Will,” replied Clavaillan, “that is a question that no living person could answer. But, since you ask it so frankly,  I will tell you that I don't believe it does."

"So, all the more reason for death not to scare me."

Clavaillan looked at him in silence, without trying to hold back the tears that came to his eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Will,” he whispered, “I can give you a death that will not make you suffer, the quickest death a man could wish for."

He was silent. The child stared at him with big eyes showing virile energy and unshakeable resolution.

“I think I understand you, Captain. You want to blow up this English ship  we're. in"

"You said it. I will blow up the Good Hope with whichever of the English ships I board. Does that  suit you?"

"Yes," repeated Guillaume with the same firmness. "And I even guess that it is to me that you want to entrust the task of lighting the powder that will blow up Good Hope."

“Swell!” Clavaillan concluded, “you’re a brave lad.  Your heart is in the right place. Those who talk about you to your mother and your sister will tell them: “will was a hero!"

And, guiding the boy , he went down with him into the hold, and to the powder magazine.

Evel and Ustaritz were already busy removing the barrels Clavaillan had requested.

He showed the child one of the barrels and told him to sit in it, giving him a lighted lantern. “When I give you the order through the megaphone, you will bring the light close to the fuse, and everything will be happen automatically. You won't feel anything." Then, placing the lamp two or three steps from the dangerous zone, the marquis and the two sailors returned to the deck.

 Will remained alone in his dark retreat. Then, when there was no one left to see him, his courage was put to a terrible test. He was alone in this black hole sinisterly lit by the flame of a smoky lamp still darkened by the thick glass and the iron mesh lining with which it was surrounded. Around him, the darkness, covered with cobwebs, was populated with menacing ghosts. Nightmare shapes grimaced in the shadows, adding the terrors of the imagination to the horror of the situation. He experienced his agony in advance.

A continuous noise, or rather an incessant whisper, filled this tomb-like silence. It was the imperceptible sliding of the water on the sides of the ship, and this rustling of the wet shroud dominated everything, enveloped Guillaume, passing over his head. From time to time, a dry cracking sound erupted in the wood; little rumors seemed to emerge from the darkest corners. Some rat escaped from a corner, appeared in the clear patch that the lantern projected on the narrow floor, and, surprised by this light, fled to return the next moment.

Or else, a quivering of antenae, accompanied by a nauseating odor, revealed to Will the proximity of a cockroach emerging from the cracks and joints of the hull. Then, nausea came to him, and physical weakness was added to the moral tortures. And, truly, these tortures were excessive for a twelve year old boy . The strength and constancy of a man would have succumbed to it. Will was nevertheless heroic.

An hour, then two, then three passed. No order came from above ordering him to kill or die. Weary, nervous, at the end of his resistance to the suggestions of anguish and terror, he had come to wish that this order would come as soon as possible. Children don't know about death. From there perhaps arises their greatest courage against her. Will had never seen anyone die. He therefore did not know how this unknown thing was made: death.

He had never seen a corpse  draped in a shroud, a livid face with pinched nostrils, hollow eye sockets, discolored and breathless lips. He had never heard  heard that panting and crackling breath that we call the death rattle. He had never  seen this last look, this frightful inversion of the eyelids which is the supreme convulsion of the defeated body, after which the great rest extends over the remains. He therefore could not understand what is hideous about death, and what this hideousness perhaps announces of terror and suffering.

The images that haunted his mind were all material. He was afraid of the night, of the silence, of rats, of animals, of the shadows, of the water that whispered and lapped along the sides of the ship. And, little by little, as the nervous fatigue grew, a sort of discouragement came over him and he felt overcome by a paralyzing torpor. Now other images arose, sweet and dear images, which should have been consoling and which were only new causes of sorrow and bitterness. He saw his mother and his sister again. In more than a year since he had left them, never had their memory presented itself to him so intense, so poignant, panicking his mind, lacerating his heart. Madame. Ternant, Anne! He saw them again in their little house in the mountains, sitting in their room or on the veranda overlooking the forest. He thought he heard the sound of their voices, their sweet conversation. They talked about the dearly absent one, about him, about him, Will, who was going to die. Or it was in the great room where Patrick O'Donovan gathered his whole family, his wife and six boys, where Will and his mother and sister had so often sat at the dining table. He saw the good Irishman speaking good words from the heart, trying to console the two poor women, announcing the imminent return of the little exile.

And Will, despite the distance, in a bitter and sad dream at the same time, saw his mother crying, stifling her sobs in her handkerchief, and Anne leaning over her, hanging on her shoulder, sobbing too, while trying to calm her. maternal pain. Oh ! this painting was crueler than all the others! Or rather he was the only cruel one. The others, all these visions of terror, Guillaume still pushed back with all the energy of his will.

He had his conscience to assure him that death is only a painful passage and that it is in the power of man to make this glorious passage; that shame and dishonor are the worst blight that human dignity can suffer. And this testimony of his conscience, the lessons of his mother, those of his father, who died a prisoner of the English, had long ago corroborated him.

But the pain of separation, the farewells, the ruin of the sweetest hopes, he could not bear them. To never see again, in this world at least, those whom he cherished with all his soul, oh! he could not accept this, he rejected the dreadful hypothesis. And he cried, the poor lad, and the night grew darker in the depths of his bruised heart as in his eyes veiled with tears.

Now only the light of the lantern illuminated the magazine. The sort of vague light that the joints of the boards allowed to filter through had gone out. The day outside had ended. How many hours had Guillaume been there, locked in his floating sepulchre? He wouldn't have been able to say it.

Suddenly, the trap door which provided access to the ladder to the cellar opened. Someone leaned into the opening of the panel and called: "Are you here ?

Guillaume had recognized the voice. He answered :
“I am here, good friend. Is it  time?"

And shuddering, he took the lantern and prepared to unmask the fuse.

“Be careful not to open the lantern,” cried the worried voice of the captain. I'm going to shove down the ladder, nd you can climb  back up."

A few seconds later, Will was at Clavaillan's side. “Am I not going to go back down?" he asked.

"No, you won't back down there again. I'v changed my plan. There is no longer any question of dying. Come, and you will know what you have to do."

  Will followed the marquis into his cabin. There, with a quick gesture, Clavaillan showed him on the southwest horizon the ship seen in the morning, but, at that hour, considerably closer. “This is what we are going to do,” said the young captain. And, as Guillaume, attentive, opened his ears wide, he went on: “We are going to put a boat in the sea. You will embark alone. Instead of fleeing the Englishman, you will go to meet him. They might capture you, but it would be better if they didn't."

The child was plunged into profound surprise. He no longer understood anything at all. What could this act  be for? His astonishment was all the deeper because it was the same Jacques de Clavaillan who had told him a few hours earlier that it was better to die than to surrender. And now he was cold-bloodedly considering the possibility of capture. Had his thoughts changed course?

“Yes,” repeated Clavallain, “it would be better if we didn’t have you with us."

He repeated himself, and this very repetition completed the confusion of Will Ternant's mind. Where was Clavaillan going with this? The poor lad could not guess that the few hours that had passed since Jacques had placed him in the powder bunker, with orders to set it on fire at the first signal given to him, had completely changed his leader's judgment. . The marquis, in fact, had felt something resembling remorse. He decided  that the death of a boy  was useless for preserving the honor of the French flag. And this remorse had obsessed him; he did not want to die with this terrible doubt in his mind.

Already he felt guilt for resorting to suicide, and he had only assuaged the scruples of his conscience by telling himself that he was dying for his country. He therefore resolved to save Will if at all possible, and  had come to snatch him from the perilous post assigned to him.

In a cruder soul, less accessible to the delicacies of conscience, the question of humanity would perhaps have been posed quite differently. A rougher man would perhaps have said to himself that there was even more cruelty in abandoning the cabin boy to the dangers of the ocean, to the threats of death from thirst and hunger, than in dragging him into the glorious destruction of the ship. But Jacques de Clavaillan was too good and too young to conceive and especially to execute such fierce resolutions.

Did he not have a ready-made answer to the perils of the sea? He remembered the flight from Madras in Lady Blackwood's pleasure boat, his race across the Indian Ocean under the lash of storm, in the agony of thirst and abandonment? Providence, however, had taken care of the fugitives. She had saved them when they saw themselves on the verge of perishing. Wouldn’t this same Providence watch over the child?

“Don’t tempt God!"  the voice of his conscience cried out to him , corroborated by the promptings of faith in God. But another voice responded victoriously to this one: “No one has the right to take the life of a reasonable creature as long as there remains a hope of preserving that life."

To give Will the order to blow up the Good Hope was to condemn him to immediate death, with no possible reprieve. Abandoning him alone on this unknown sea was giving him a chance to escape. Once this resolution had been made, Jacques did not even want to allow himself time to reflect, for fear that his will would give way.So he went to look for the child in the hold and told him what he wanted. Measures were taken, moreover, so that the order was carried out without delay. The boat was already swinging at the end of the tackles.

Will hung there after successively kissing Jacques, Evel and Ustaritz, who turned away to hide their tears. When he was afloat, he grabbed the oars.

“At least, like this,” said the Breton, wiping his eyes, “we won’t see him die. It's a consolation.

“It is he, on the contrary, the kid (9_5_1), who will see us die,” said the Basque, looking at the boat which was rocking in the wake of the three-masted ship.

And while, leaning over the railing, they were making hand signs to the cabin boy who had already left behind, a cry from the latter reached them. They saw Will  standing, pointing out the unknown ship coming from the southwest. The English vessel was tacking to the port side of the Good Hope and it was the tricolor flag that was flying at its masthead.

---

While Will was having his waking dream  in the hold of the Good Hope, weeping at the thought of his mother and his sister, at that very same same instant, Madame Ternant was also seized by one of these inexplicable presentiments, and felt a mortal anguish grip her heart. It had been  more than a year since she had heard from her son, and she had never before experienced such emotion. Of course, she knew,  her little Will must have been in danger for her to be warned like this. And the poor woman, oppressed, left the rustic bench installed under a large palm tree to return to her room and pray.

As she climbed the few steps of the porch, a cool voice came to her ears. “Thank you, Fred, you can go back, I don’t feel like playing at all today."

"Why then, Anne?"

  Annereplied, her voice trembling, "I don’t know, I’m sad, I’m going to find mama."

“Will you come tomorrow, Anne?" Fred asked in his lower, slightly Irish-accented, voice.

She hesitated: “Yes, I think…, if I feel more energetic than this evening."
 
"Well,  goodbye, Anne."

"Goodbye, Fred; Thank you for your trouble ; tell everyone I regret interrupting the game.

There was undoubtedly an exchange of handshakes, then the sand creaked a little under rapid footsteps, and the young girl appeared in front of the house.

Anne was at the charming age where, without being quite a young girl, one is no longer a child. She was tall, thin, but seeing the breadth of her shoulders, the undulating suppleness of her waist, one could assume that barely two or three years would be enough for this adolescent bust to blossom wonderfully. She was dressed all in white, following the fashion of these torrid lands, and her complexion stood out very dull, a little golden, under this virginal adornment. Despite the heat, her lustrous, curly black hair flowed over her shoulders and surrounded her very pure oval face with a multitude of silky curls. As soon as she saw her mother, in a few skips she reached her, and, childishly, she tenderly passed her arm under her maternal arm. “Are you coming home, mama? she asked.

"Yes, my child," replied  Madame Ternant calmly, I felt the need to go and pray for your brother."

Anne looked at her attentively, and, noticing the change in her features, asked: “Mother, what is it? Bad new?"

"No, I haven't received any news. Only, the memory of your brother suddenly filled me with worry and I thought it was a warning from heaven."

In order not to increase her mother's fears, Anne did not tell her that she too had experienced a similar feeling. Grave, almost collected, she followed Madame Ternant, and while the latter knelt on a straw prie-dieu at the foot of the bed, she prostrated herself on the mat on the floor, burying her brown head on the edge of the berth.  For a long time, they remained thus absorbed in their prayers.

Then, Anne was the first to get up and mechanically, her thoughts far away, far away, she grabbed the punkah-fan's cord (10_1_1), which she began to gently shake. A breath of air came to freshen the atmosphere and Madame Ternant stood up. Her face was flooded with tears. At this sight, the overwhelmed toung girl rushed towards her and, wrapping her caressing arms around her neck, began to kiss her with passion.

Sometimes it was her face so pale with its exquisitely delicate features, her dark blue eyes, her neck so white, sometimes her fine, curly hair like her daughter's, but of a lighter shade, that Anne's lips touched. gently. And, seeing them like this, Anne taller than her mother, one would sense  a sort of fierce protection that the girl seemed to exercise over her mother.

Madame Ternant, in fact, was thin, almost immaterial. Her light eyes had such a gentle look that they did not appear to be earthy and, in her entire countenance, one could read, especially since the death of her husband, such resigned pain that one could not look at her without feeling moved. Anne, on the contrary, was exuberant with life and energy. His dark eyes shone with intense fire. She had the strong soul of the women of Brittany and Vendée, and would have been capable of the most heroic resolutions. Alongside this somewhat virile aspect of her character, she possessed delicacies of heart, a very feminine sensitivity, an ardor of devotion and infinite tenderness.

Now Madame Ternant was seated on a rattan armchair, and the young girl had slipped, little by little, to her feet. She had imprisoned her mother's hands in her own, long, narrow hands on which the veins stood out blue, and from time to time she raised them to her lips. “Mother, mama, , why are you crying? she asked, barely holding back her own tears.

"My little Will, my son, my darling child," sobbed the poor woman, completely overcome by pain. "Why did I let him go? He was still too young, I should have kept him in my arms. He was only a little boy, a very little boy..."

"No, mama, he wasn't a little boy... You know that Will is as courageous as a man. You couldn't have held him back. And since he is strong and resolute, he has done well, mother. You don't have to regret anything."

"You are his sister; I am his mother,” moaned Mrs. Ternant. This time, tears overflowed from the young girl's eyes: " Oh ! mother, do you think that I do not love him as much as you do?"

"Yes, my darling child, I know how much you love your brother, and you have not understood my thoughts. You are younger, more courageous, and finally, he is your brother, and as much love as you have for him, this love is not comparable to that of a mother. You will feel this later, if God sends you children. Finally, your brother is your age, and it seems to you that he is big and strong because you yourself feel big and strong. For me, you are still two little children, and just as I have you here very close to me, my darling daughter, I would so much like to have him in my arms too, my dear little Will!"

And without her being able to hold them back, her tears flowed again, more urgently, more abundantly, themselves mixed with the tears of the little girl who had sat up and was sobbing, her head resting on her mother's shoulder. Thus entwined, confusing their pain, Anne and her mother clearly formed the picture which had appeared before the eyes of poor Guillaume and had torn his heart, while locked in the powder hold, he awaited the death order from Clavaillan.

How long did they stay like that, crying and praying? They themselves could not have said it. Night had come, one of those starry and serene nights which bring with them peace for the soul at the same time as rest for the body. And suddenly, through the wide opening of the open window, a wonderful ray of moonlight slipped in, flooding the room with a light as soft as a smile.

Sometimes it takes so little, a very small incident to change our impressions. This moonbeam was the little incident which distracted the two women from their sorrow. Madame Ternant wiped her eyes and, kissing the young girl, saud:“Come, Anne,” she said, “we must go down; I now feel more confident, and my heart tells me that with this strange oppression which I could not resist, the danger which threatened your brother has dissipated."

The young girl, thanks to this mobility of impression which is the precious prerogative of youth, had already stood up smiling and reassured. “Me too, dear mother,” she said, “I am completely reassured. Of course, Will is now safe."

And, not wanting to leave her mother, she approached the toilet table to bathe her reddened eyes, wash her hands and brush her unruly hair, while Madame Ternant also took the same care. Then, together, they went down to the basement, because the house, like almost all those in India, had only one floor, or rather a large, fairly high main floor. This main floor included four bedrooms, two living rooms and a dining room, but which was used very rarely, Mrs. Ternant and her daughter preferring to take their meals downstairs where it was cooler.

The basement adapted to the climate, consisted of a large kitchen and a pantry where provisions were stored, two other small rooms for the use of servants, then, separated from this part by a corridor, a summer dining room and a large room that could be used as a smoking room, billiards room or reception room for the day. The house was light in construction, but had a cheerful and comfortable appearance. Around the main floor and overlooking the basement ran a covered gallery, a sort of large balcony where, depending on the direction of the sun, people came to sit down to read or work.

On entering the dining room, they found the table set with that particular care which is almost luxury. The table was covered with a tablecloth of dazzling whiteness and on which, here and there, beautifully worked embroidery flowers stood out in relief. The crockery and cutlery shone with meticulous cleanliness, and at each end of the table stood, in the middle of green plants, two chiseled silver candelabra illuminating the room.

Standing near the door, a tall Indian  man, the Khitmugar, or butler, respectfully awaited the arrival of the ladies and, when the mother and daughter were seated opposite each other, he moved between  them with  such speed and skill this skill, as to be everywhere, practicing this science of service which these people possess to such a perfect degree.

Like every evening, they first had a soup and this broth would certainly not have been denied by the best of our cordon bleus or our European cooks. Anne loved the pot-au-feu or rather the broth of the pot-au-feu, and she savored it with all the more pleasure, because unlike the little French people, she did not have to swallow, after the soup, the ugly piece of boiled beef which so many people dislike.

In India, meat is not expensive and every day, the piece of boiled mutton (10_4_1), rather than beef, used to make the pot-au-feu was afterwards mixed into the dogs' food.

It was then the turn of the curry, the Indian dish among all others that is served at every meal and that cooks have the art of preparing in a hundred different ways. The curry consists of a main sauce containing meat, fish, eggs, or even vegetables seasoned with a spicy and strongly flavored powder. This sauce is served  mix atop boiled rice and "bharta," a kind of mashed potatoes in which peppers, onions, oil and vinegar, with an assortment of side-dishes ("chutneys") limited only
by the ingenuity of the cook. This dish, which seems a little barbaric to us, because of the strangeness of these condiments, is very sought after in India for its particularly refreshing qualities.

After the curry, several other dishes were presented to which the mother and daughter, still under the influence of their emotion, did little honor.

Both were eager to be alone again, one to resume her prayers, the other to continue a dream that her mind had been cherishing for some time with a certain complacency. As they were leaving, Mrs. Ternant and her daughter hugged each other for a long time.

“Good night, mama. Sleep well."

"Thank you darling. For you too, good night and may God protect your sleep."

One more kiss and they parted  ways. But Anne returned, asking “Mamma, tell me, are you no longer worried?"

Madame Ternant smiled at this questioning look: “No, my dear, go, sleep peacefully."

Anne finally made up her mind, reassured, and while Madame Ternant disappeared into the room lit by the moon, the young girl entered her own room, where absolute darkness reigned. She passed indifferently in front of  her bed, and leans on the bedframe, moved by the splendor of the spectacle before her eyes.The moon, which illuminated the other facade of the house left this side  in shadow, to project its pale light onto the chain of the Nilghirri mountains, outlining the rugged line of their peaks in the distance. Between each peak, there was an abyss of darkness and there, at their feet, not far from the property, Anne could distinguish the dark mass of the forest. The night was so calm, the house so silent, that the young girl could hear the monotonous, crystalline rustle of the stream flowing further down the valley. This great silence was barely interrupted by the roar of a wild beast, by the quivering of the foliage, by the murmur of the water, this great silence of nature asleep in the mystery of the oriental nights, what intense poetry it pours\ed out in the soul of the one who listened to it!

Because Anne listened to the silence and felt a growing emotion vibrate her soul and cry her eyes. She could not explain to herself what was troubling her thus and deliciously enjoyed this ecstasy, the purest of all, since it is devoid of any personal feeling and seems to split man, in order to bring his soul closer, dazzled by the beauty , of the Creator. But, although the young girl was admirably gifted to enjoy this incomparable charm, she was too young to seek only a single intellectual enjoyment; it was necessary to put a name, an earthly image to this completely immaterial happiness. Spontaneously, she imagined   the energetic and fine silhouette of Jacques de Clavaillan, so plainly that a slightly ashamed Anne murmured: “No, it’s not him I have to think about, it’s Will… He’s just a stranger, Will  is my brother."

But no matter what she did, it was not the little boy who occupied her thoughts, she was entirely full of the young officer. She saw him again as he had first appeared to her, tall, elegant like a court gentleman, proud and strong like a simple sailor. And to this physique made to seduce, was added the halo of accomplished feats, acts of audacity and valor, the prestige of an unblemished name, of a sonorous title. Certainly, a young girl must have been without imagination,   not to be enthralled by such a hero! Add to this that Anne kept a solemn and sacred promise deep in her heart. “When I come back, I will ask you to be my wife,” had said Jacques de Clavaillan.And with all her heart she had ratified this commitment. Not for a minute had she thought of doubting this promise.


When you are young, everything is serious and serious, and it would never have occurred to him that Jacques could have uttered such a word lightly... She was his fiancée, nothing could undo that from now on. And now, in formulating this charming word of fiancée, Anne evoked, thanks to her futile imagination, the most graceful figures in history. She too, like the young chatelaines of the Middle Ages, was waiting for her hero. Like these, he covered himself with glory, but contrary to these, instead of remaining passive and resigned while waiting for his return when she would be his wife, she would accompany him, wanting to be half in his dangers and in his glory. Yes, he would give her a place on board, she would be the queen, making herself loved by everyone, officers and sailors; she would cheer them up during peace and care for them during war. And like that she would never, ever leave her husband!

Then a worrisome  thought mingled with these dreams of glory. If she left, who would stay with her mother? The problem was unsolvable. Anne therefore decided not to try to solve it and, filling her eyes one last time with the magical spectacle of the night, she went to bed. And as sleep is never far away when you are fifteen, it did not take long for her to fall asleep in supreme prayer. “My God, bring Will back quickly for mama and for me, and always protect my fiancé Jacques de Clavaillan."

She slept late in the morning the next day, and was not a little surprised to see her mother come in already fully dressed, because, in general, it was the young girl who presided over Madame Ternant's getting up, taking joy in her presence. provide the minor services that the toilet may require.

“My God, mother, what time is it?" she cried, when she had kissed her mother.

"It’s ten o’clock, my darling, and Alick and Fred have already come to check on you and ask us to go to their parents’ house for lunch."

"And we’re going there, mama?"

"Certainly yes. You know that I never hesitate to go to our neighbors. Mr. O’Donovan has the secret of reassuring me so well that it is always a pleasure for me to listen to him."

And as Madame Ternant was about to go away to keep the two young people company, she turned towards the young girl: “Anne, put on your riding-habit (10_5_1); I think they brought your saddle in the carriage, and above all, hurry up."

The youn girl, delighted, did not need to have the recommendation repeated. In a few seconds, she was up performing the daily ablutions; then, when, fresh, she had straightened her hair, she put on her riding habit.
It had a very long skirt and a small fitted bodice like those worn by young girls from our region for their walks in the woods, but instead of a dark shade, as is customary in Europe, Anne's riding costume was white like everything else in her wardrobe. She put on little riding boots made of very soft yellow leather, put on white thread gloves, and finally put on a canvas helmet which protected her neck and forehead from the heat of the sun. Then, having taken a small whip with a silver pommel, she went out through the balcony to look for her mother and her friends whom she soon saw sitting in the shade in the garden.

She ran to them and they cordially exchanged vigorous handshakes.

“Are you feeling better this morning, Anne?" asked Fred solicitously, while Alick looked at her with admiration.

“Much better, thank you,” said the young girl; then, impetuously, she asked: “Are we leaving, mother?

"Not until you have had something to eat, my child. There's still an hour before lunch..."

"Oh ! Mama, I assure you that I am not the least hungry."

"Have breakfast anyway. Fred will keep you company."

Laughing, the two young people walked away, and the others soon heard Anne's  cheerful  voice demanding that her companion taste everything that was served. Fred was Anne's inseparable companion. He was the second of Patrick O'Donovan's six sons and was only a few days older than the girl.

Alick was the eldest of them all. Already serious for his age, he was only sixteen, he was of great help to his father whom he helped in the clearing of his land. More rarely involved in the games of his brothers and Anne, he nonetheless professed a passionate admiration for the young girl. She was truly the queen of these six boys who had no other will than that of the young girl, no other ambition than that of satisfying her whims.

It was to please her, because she had expressed a desire to ride horses, that Alick and Fred had left one fine day for Madras to buy a small lady's saddle that would suit their friend. And sometimes one, sometimes the other, gave her  riding lessons, finding themselves sufficiently thanked with a smile, very proud of the rapid progress of their student.

So that day, when leaving for the neighboring property, Alick and his brother set about unsaddling one of the ponies; replacing the man's saddle with Anne's saddle, which they took from under the cabriolet seat; after which they carefully examined the straps, and finally, bending his knee, Fred lifted the girl and put her in the saddle.

“Who is the one who accompanies me?" asked Anne cheerfully.

"Do you want to go, Fred? asked the eldest in turn."

"No, go yourself, Alick, I’ll drive the carriage"

The two young men helped Madame Ternant into the carrige; then, having dismissed the servant who held the horses, Fred grabbed the reins and the little caravan set off. There was barely a quarter of an hour's drive between Madame Ternant's house and that of the Irishman; so they  soon arrived.

Patrick O'Donovan and his wife were waiting for their guests in the garden, and the four boys shouted with joy when they saw Anne, although they had only left her the day before. The smallest, Jack, approached her and, very tenderly, asked her if she was no longer sad.

“No, my little Jack,” she said, taking him in her arms and kissing his pretty blond head, “I'm not as sad as yesterday, but I won't be really happy until my brother Will comes back."

Jack, who was not well aware of the events, was probably going to ask the young girl questions, when he was distracted  by Fred who suggested a game of croquet while waiting for lunch. With the exception of the two youngest, everyone took part, and the game was far from over when the lunch bell began to ring.
However, they left off without regret; Didn't they have all afternoon to organize group games?

The meal, thanks to the O’Donovans, was very cheerful. Both had been able, through reasoning, to persuade Madame Ternant that she would soon see her son again and, as she was only asking to be convinced, a charming enthusiasm reigned throughout.

As soon as they left the table, as was their wont, the children, insensible to the heat, spread out into the garden; but the sun was so hot that they were soon forced to seek shelter in the shade to rest.

“Let’s go down to the river,” suggested Cécil, the third of the children, “I know a place where we will be very comfortable."

With difficulty they reached the stream which Cécil pompously decorated with the name of river. There was, in fact, a small corner of meadow where the fairly thick grass was perfectly even and where a few trees with very thick foliage made a dome of greenery. With a sigh of relief, they all lay down on the ground and Anne, who had wet her handkerchief, soaked her face with it and splashed a few drops in Jack's face, who was laughing out loud.

But suddenly, interrupting his game, the little boy became serious and the little girl understood that he was going to question her. “Anne,” he asked, “why did your brother leave?

“To fight against the English, Jack,” she replied.

"Why is he fighting against the English?"

"Because the English are waging war on France and Will doesn’t like them."

"So he doesn’t love us either?…"

“You know very well that we are not English, we are Irish,” interrupted Cécil ardently.

“So much the better,” murmured Jack philosophically, “I would have been angry if your brother didn’t like us."

"How old is your brother, exactly, Anne? Frank asked."

"He will be thirteen years old.

"Like me, said Cécil with a sigh. I too would like to embark on a ship to go to war like Will."

“You would have to fight against us,” said Anne reproachfully.

"Who took your brother away? "asked Mervil, the fifth, in his turn.

"Monsieur de Clavaillan."

"Who is Monsieur de Clavaillan?" Jack asked.

“He’s my fiancé,” she replied, wanting by this public confession to confirm to herself the dream she had cherished for a long time.

“Your fiancé,” Alick interrupted briskly; "how can Monsieur de Clavaillan be your fiancé?"

"Because he promised me that when he came back, he would marry me."

"Ah! really," replied the young man ironically, "and you believe in such a promise? But you were only a little girl, and M. de Clavaillan wanted to make fun of you."

Anne stood up very red. “Mr. de Clavaillan is a sailor and French, and he cannot lie."

"I read," continued Alick mercilessly, "that the French were not loyal…"

"You are lying," cried the young girl, "and if you have to continue like this, I am leaving."

"Alick," said Fred, "you are wrong to speak like that. The French have always been friends of Ireland."

But the young man had already pulled himself together. He approached the little girl. “Anne,” he said, “forgive me. I didn't mean what I said and I gave in to a bad feeling. It seemed harsh to me that this stranger, that Monsieur  de Clavaillan," he replied quickly, "should take you away one day and thus deprive us of our friend."

Naively, without suspecting it, poor Alick had just confessed to the very vague dream which haunted him and which he had never dared to dwell on, still too young to understand it. And Anne, also naive, did not live either, did not understand this confession. She just smiled, and holding out her hand, said: “You are entirely forgiven, Alick, but you must never, never speak ill of the French again."

However, despite the reconciliation, the day ended a little dull, without the usual enthusiasm. Alick repeated to himself to convince himself: “Anne is engaged to Monsieur de Clavaillan. »

And Anne still heard Alick’s sentence:“You were just a little girl, he wanted to make fun of you. »

---

"Well ! said Evel, there is no point in asking us, since the result is the same. If the boat is Ingliche, we just have to deal with it. He will engage us."

Jacques de Clavaillan did not utter a word. With a heavy, pale heart, clenched teeth, red eyes, he watched the skiff which was carrying little Will dance on the waves and which was visibly decreasing, while the suspicious vessel in the colors of France approached.

“The poor kid!" whispered Piarrille Ustaritz, translating with a word the thought that haunted the mind of his leader.

Clavaillan replied: “Be quiet, lad; we will avenge him presently." And he had the highest sails kept on, not wanting to delay the meeting with the English ship any longer. Now that the catastrophe was inevitable, everyone had the morbid impatience to precipitate it.

Abruptly Evel extended his hand in the direction of the ship. “See, Captain. Two more sails to the southwest." He was telling the truth. Two new silhouettes were emerging against the pale sunset sky, in the band of purple traced there by the nearly disappearing sun.

 " Attention!" commanded the young captain. "It will be dark in a quarter of an hour. All the English are on us. Our death must be an apotheosis and we must light up the whole sky."

However, the two ships were getting closer; the distance rapidly diminished between them, and one could appreciate the shapes of the enemy presenting themselves sometimes from the front, sometimes from the flank. For a few seconds, Clavaillan's eyes had become more attentive, obstinately fixed on the arrival. And, suddenly, a cry burst from his throat, like a roar of joy and triumph. “God forgive me! But this ship is an old acquaintance; it is the old Confiance, on which Surcouf rescued up us!"

Right now, the suspicious ship was displaying friendly signals. There were no more doubts to keep. It was a friend, not an adversary, who came to meet the sailors of the Good Hope. Such was the joy of the three men that the marquis seized them in his arms and kissed them with a sort of madness.

“And the kid?" asked Ustaritz, showing Clavaillan a small black dot ready to disappear in the north.

"I am aware of him," replied the young man, "lower the second boat, Piarrille, and take four men with you to go and fetch him."

The order was carried out immediately. Four Spanish sailors embarked with the Basque. A quick play of the oars carried them away. It was only just in timetime. Will must have been a mile behind.

Meanwhile, Evel was responding to the Confience's signals.

“It's is really French,” he said.“ But the three Englishmen are still in sight in the northeast. We could wait for them."

"Calm down," replied Clavaillan. "If  Confiance is here, it is because the Revenant and Sainte-Anne are not far away."

“The Revenant and Sainte-Anne,” replied the Breton, “those are perhaps those who come over there, from behind this one."  He pointed at the two silhouettes noted a moment earlier. But suddenly their conversation was interrupted. The Confiance lighted  its position lights and the Good Hope had to imitate it. Night fell immediately, the sun having fallen below the horizon.
A powerful lantern was placed at the rear of the three-masted ship to guide those who had gone looking for Guillaume Ternant.

Now, while these things were happening on the Good Hope, the little cabin boy, abandoned on his boat, gave way to despair. Why had he been sent off in the boat  without explanation, without reasons? To tell the truth, at first, it had been a real relief for him to come out of the night of the magazine to find himself in the fresh air. In this abominable darkness, preceding that of death, the child had experienced cruel agonies. He had said goodbye to the sky and the light. And then he had been freed. Once again, he had breathed the pure and strengthening air of the sea, contemplated the immaculate firmament. Then, without anything being able to make him guess the cause of this change, without an explanatory word, Jacques de Clavaillan placed him in this boat, giving him the order to flee, to escape the pursuit of the English. What then were the intentions of his valiant friend, of the one he considered, whom he already loved as a brother? Why did he send Will away  without revealing to him the reasons for this separation?

In this boat, tossed about by the waves, he found himself alone, alone as night fell, without support, without advice, without a comforting word to sustain him in the struggle. And, while inspecting the boat, he discovered a box that had been intentionally placed there, containing, four bottles of wine, around fifty biscuits, a few cans and some  dried fruit. Under a bench, a barrel of fresh water was moored. Guillaume saw clearly that the intention to abandon him was well thought out. And, once again, the dreadful question presented itself to his anguished mind. Why were they abandoning him like this? What was Clavaillan thinking? Then clarity suddenly came to him. He understood the marquis's feeling. If Clavaillan abandoned him in this way, if Evel and Ustaritz subscribed to the sentence, it was without a doubt that the three men had modified their first and fierce intention. They wanted to die alone; they didn't want to kill a boy. Yes, that was the truth, the only possible explanation for their behavior. This thought entered Will's troubled soul like a flash of lightning. Oh ! they were good to the end, these meeting friends, these brave men whose destitution and suffering he had shared, too good even, since by granting him life, they only prolonged his agony, delivering themselves alone through a violent but heroic death. Because the truth burst forth more forcefully in his eyes, it struck him like a thunderbolt; she crushed him under her violence. Will fell back, inert, on his bench and began to cry bitterly.

But at this age, reactions are strong. We don't give up without getting up.Suddenly the child stood up, grabbed the oars and began to row vigorously in the wake of the Good Hope, in order to maintain his distance. From the quarterdeck, leaning on the rail, the three men addressed him with affectionate signs of tenderness, trying to wave at him.
And then, looking over his shuolder again, Will saw the ship coming to meet the Good Hope. He saw the French flag flying over the feared ship. He let go of the oars and, rising, uttered a loud cry: “The colors of France! The Tricolor!"

His arm waved, showing his friends this flag that he had just discovered first and which gave him hope. They understood his gesture, they heard the sound of his voice; Like him, they recognized the national flag, the colors of the homeland. But, strangely enough, they seemed neither satisfied nor moved. From the boat, Will could see the three men approaching, gesticulating as they pointed to the unknown boat, no doubt exchanging thoughts. And, forgetting himself contemplating them, the child forgot to follow them. The oars hung inert from their copper nets. A large wave  lifted the frail walnut hull and carried it two hundred fathoms astern of the three-masted ship. It became impossible to regain the distance. Discouragement once again took hold of the boy, a growing discouragement which would soon change into despair. It was all the more terrible, all the more overwhelming, because the hope, glimpsed for an instant, had been more luminous, more dazzling. And suddenly, night fell, adding to the horror of his situation.

Far, far away in the south, Guillaume saw the fires of Good Hope lit. Let's go ! everything was said. Terrible doubts seized him again. He told himself that he was definitely abandoned this time, and he fell into the back of the boat, his head in his arms, sobbing like a little child.Above his head, the stars punctured the vault with their small, clear, sparkling points, like diamond dust scattered on a mourning veil. Below him, the sea swelled into large waves, with supple spines and rounded backs, which rocked him like a newborn in its cradle. And Will saw nothing, did not look at the dark and grandiose spectacle of this sky and this water combined in the same darkness. Buried in his pain, praying for those he would no longer see, he cried.
....................
A cry cut through the vast silence and made him flinch.
It was his name that had rolled across the echoes of the abyss. A voice had called him, and he thought he recognized this voice. He stood up and listened, paying full attention. The voice once again crossed the space, the voice of Piarrile Ustaritz, the Basque, who uttered his sonorous call at the top of his lungs: “Ahoy! boat! Will! little Will, my  boy!"

  Will stood up straight in the boat and replied fervently: “Ahoy! boat! To me ! Piarrille, over here, into the wind." And in this way, for a quarter of an hour, the man and the child answered each other. The second boat had now lit its beacon. Will saw the little light running and sparkling on the water, appearing and disappearing under the waves. He took to the oars again and rowed boldly to meet his friends. It took a good half hour for the two boats to reach each other.

But when they were side by side, the Basque was the first to come over. He jumped into Will's boat, and tied it to the back of his, in order to tow it towards the Good Hope. After which, standing up, he opened his arms wide and embraced the boy in an almost fatherly hug, laughing and crying at the same time.

An hour later, Guillaume Ternant found himself on board the ship that he had left in despair and that he did not think he would see again. Evel, then Clavaillan hugged him, shuddering, to their chests. He was laughing now, poor Will, who was crying earlier.
“Captain,” he said, “I know why you abandoned me."

"You know that?… But we didn’t abandon you, little one. We only wanted..." And Clavaillan's voice trembled.

"to keep me from dying with you, right?" said the boy. "Oh ! I understood it well, come on, when I saw myself all alone with the provisions you had left me."

Clavaillan's eyes got wet, but very soft tears this time.“Well, yes, you guessed it. We wanted to die alone."

"And now you don’t want to anymore?"

"Now we have received help from God and men. The ship we suspected is French. You know it  as well as we do. It's the one which rescued us  from  the boat when we were about to die. It’s  Surcouf's Confiance deand it has never more deserved its name."

"Well done, Commander!" cried Will, “and long live Confiance!"

"That's not all," continued Clavaillan, "Her new captain  told me that it was a surprise that Surcouf had given us, that he had equipped and armed her without warning anyone. Tomorrow, at sunrise, we will be joined by him on the Revenant, and I will return to my valiant Sainte-Anne. And then, woe to the English!"

And Surcouf's  lieutenant extended his clenched fist and his threatening arm towards the northeast horizon, where, under the web of darkness, he divined the approach of Commodore Harris' three ships.

“Are you going to leave me on this bad merchant ship?" The question was asked in a tone of fear which made Clavaillan laugh.

" Leave you ? No, my friend. You have suffered enough with us, especially over the past three days, to have deserved to keep your place on my brave brig. You are now a man, may Saint Anne protect you."

The night ended in this state of mind so different from that of the morning. A real enthusiasm animated Clavaillan and his companions. On his orders, Will and the two sailors went to sleep for a few hours. They would need all their strength for the next day. As the marquis had predicted, at sunrise they  could see the two corsair ships emerging from the mist, under full sail.

They were the Revenant with its fifty-eight cannons, the Sainte-Anne with its eighteen guns. Added to the thirty-four cannons and the two hundred and fifty men of the Confiance, that made a superb total of  eight hundred and seventy combatants and one hundred and ten cannons. With these, the French could fight a battle.However, the Englishman had not changed his route. Bravely, he continued to advance downwind, proud of his superior weapons and deeming himself invincible. He dared to run into the fight. The frigate Kent had, in fact, seventy guns; each of the two corvettes Eagle and Queen Elisabeth carried twenty. It was therefore with equal weapons that they were going to fight, at least in terms of the number of cannons. Because, as far as the number of the crew was concerned, the three English ships represented a thousand men (11_4_1).

The French sailors were greatly surprised when the signals from the Revenant commanded them to retreat. They withdrew from the enemy, not without  a few murmurs. But the mere sight of Surcouf was  enough to repress these. Already the Marquis, Evel, Ustaritz and Will had returned to Sainte-Anne. The Good Hope sailed in the middle of the flotilla, protected by the Confiance which brought up the rear, and led by the Revenant. The privateer  had workedout a plan.  By his care, two guns were unloaded from the Confiance and placed on the English ship, at the stern (11_4_2). “In this way,” he said, “we will have the satisfaction of having them received as friends by their former compatriot."

He had ordered Clavaillan to stand on the flank of the column, and going over for a visit, had asked: “Do you have among your men a resolute fellow who is willing to risk a great chance of harming the English, if he is not killed?"

“I think I have that,” replied the marquis boldly."

And, in turn, he called Evel and Ustaritz and asked them bluntly: “Boys, which of you would agree to stay on the Good Hope with about fifteen daredevils to receive the first shot from the Englishman?"

"Oh, Lord!" said Evel, "it's up to you to choose, captain; because I believe that if you consult us, each of us will say Amen."

"However, I want you to decide for yourself. The job  is hazardous and there are eighty chances in a hundred of staying there."

"As long as there are twenty of them coming out, cried the Basque carelessly, I am quite ready to do what I am ordered."

"And I," said Evel, "if the admiral promises me a good barrel of wine when we get back, I am also very ready to keep Piarrille company."

"I promise you in his name, Hill-Breton (11_4_3),"replied Clavaillan," and I allow you to follow Ustaritz on board."

"Then," asked the latter, "what will we have to do?"

Surcouf's lieutenant asked them for their full attention.
“Listen,” he said, “this is what the admiral’s plan is." Admiral was the title that all the sailors of the corsair gave to their leader. “We ran from  the English, but it was to lure them as far away as possible, because, independently of these three ships, half a dozen others were advancing to meet us. Their approach was reported to us at the time of  Surcouf's passage to Bourbon. As soon as they are within a mile of us, we will come back on them. There will be a big commotion, and then, too bad for them, so much the better for us. Now, the main thing is that we avoid their first fire, and that we can salute them with all our batteries. The Good Hope must therefore attract the largest of the ships, that is to say the frigate which is leading. When she is within good range, she will send him a double broadside of her tail-chaser guns. But a cold-blooded man is essential to direct the maneuver and stick to the Englishman before blowing up the three-masted ship."

"It’s okay," said Ustaritz peacefully, "I think I can do that."

“And I,” added Evel, “I will gladly volunteer as a  sailor."

"So, we're going to give you ten strong boys from our crew. Can you count on your Spaniards?"

"Caramba!" cried the Basque, “I believe we can count on them. Since yesterday, they have not stopped gnashing their teeth against the English."

The plan was executed to the letter. The Good Hope thus received a jury crew of twenty men. Surcouf had attached his two best gunners to them, so that the first and probably only broadside of the merchant ship, converted for the occasion into a warship, would do as much damage as possible to the English frigate.

Meanwhile, the English frigate,  and the two corvettes, its acolytes, continued on their way and resolutely advanced on the four french ships The distance, still too great, must have misled them. But British courage is above all made of implacable tenacity.

Commodore Harris, commanding the frigate Kent,  wanted to know at all costs what these three unknown ships were, which had just joined the three-masted ship which had been pursued for four days. Brave, but presumptuous, the english commodore  professed reckless contempt for privateers. This arrogance was shared by Sir George Blackford, commander of the corvette Eagle. On the contrary, James Peterson, commanding the Queen Elizabeth, was full of prudence and reason. But his wise advice had  subjected him to mockery by his superior, as well as by his  colleague Blackford.

That day, however, he could not control his apprehensions, and, taking a boat over to the Kent to see Commodore Harris, he expressed his fears to him. “I have some suspicion of the appearance of these four ships traveling together. We should ensure that the rest of the squadron can, if necessary, lend us a hand."

Harris looked at his lieutenant with a smile of disdainful mockery. “Truly, sir,  you are so prudent as not to dare to attack two merchant ships, one of which is an English one which was taken from us by trickery and trickery."

"This ruse and deception proves that those who conceived and executed it are skillful people, commodore. They must have developed means of defense that we are unaware of."

"What means? The buccaneer who came to Bombay to deceive the imbeciles of the civil service is at most some convict who escaped from Botany Bay or Aden (11_5_1), and who will have murdered the captain of the Good Hope. There are no French people in this matter. Besides, if there were any I would be delighted. This would give us the opportunity to make some good captures."

"Your Lordship may be right. However, I maintain my feeling. Surcouf is a man of extreme audacity, and there should  be caution…”

The commodore replied brutally:“'Prudence' has  take another name, sir, I don't need to tell you. As for your Surcouf, I only ask for the opportunity to meet him face to face. Would you be so kind as to let him know?"

Peterson turned pale at the affront. But he said nothing, and, bowing his head, he returned to the Queen Elizabeth.

---

Surcouf's sailors  were quickly given an explanation of the reasons why  their leader had decided to flee before the English ships.  They were in the vicinity of the Maldives Islands, in the arm of the sea which penetrates this archipelago, dividing it in two (12_1_1), a passage which is extremely dangerous for navigation and which has seen countless shipwrecks. However, for several weeks, Surcouf had been informed that three English merchant ships, traveling together, had left the Cape heading towards India. The Sainte-Anne had not been available for the duration of  Clavaillan's venture into Bombay, so Surcouf had not been able to monitor the coasts of Africa, nor to intercept  these ships, which he knew were carrying a rich cargo.  He therefore took his lieutenant aside and the two of them decided on a plan as daring as it was unforeseen.

“Jacques,” said Surcouf, “we have two choices. One is to give battle immediately to the three English warships, to sink them, and to return to the convoy. That's chancy. We may suffer serious damage and no longer be sufficiently armed to take control of the merchant ships that have been reported to me. Or, we can go as quickly as possible to meet the convoy, capture it, and wait for the three warships to come to us."

 Clavaillan nodded: “It’s bold, but equally adventurous. But once the ships are captured, what will we do with them? How can we stand up to the English if we are entangled with such a cargo? There is little chance that we will be able to keep it."

Surcouf made a quick gesture, tapping his friend on the shoulder:
" You did not understand me. I don't want to sink the convoy, quite the contrary. It is a question of taking it without damaging it, and of using it against the English  by exposing the captured ships to their fire. I know that on board one of them are honorable ladies, charming misses, who are coming to join their families in India. These are precious hostages, safe armor against the English cannonballs. They taken, we will have almost all the trump cards in our game."

Clavaillan began to laugh: “Parbleu! If you tell me so much!... Among the travelers is undoubtedly Lady Stanhope, the cousin of Lady Blackwood, the one who brought back from Europe two grand pianos bought in France. Good prey for gallant knights."

The plan was therefore immediately adopted. Jacques presented an objection: “That is all very well. But where are we going to take highly desirable  convoy?"

“It’s my opinion,” replied Sucouf, “that right now, they shouldn't be far from us. I would bet my right hand that they must have entered the Maldives channel."

"Oh! merchant ships risk such a passage…"

"Yes, yes, it has the reputation of being very perilous, I agree. But, apart from the fact that in this season, the wind favors them, the passage, however dangerous it may be, is infinitely less so than an encounter with corsairs. So there are many probabilities in favor of my guess-- in case I'm right, be bold and watch out for the convoy!"

These were the reasons why the corsairs pursued the English merchant vessels, sweeping (12_2_1) down  into the Maldives channel. On the sixth day, around noon, Clavaillan, who was running in the lead in the  Sainte-Anne, gave a cry of joy and communicated with his leader. He had just sighted, to the southwest, near the smallest of the Maldives, the convoy so impatiently sought for. The three ships were gathered there.
In the blink of an eye, the Revenant and Sainte-Anne came together, and Surcouf decided on the plan to follow, as brief, as expeditious as possible. Leaving Confiance and Good Hope trailing behind, the two corsairs covered themselves with canvas and set off to meet the convoy. Thanks to their prodigious speed, they reached it around three o'clock in the afternoon.
It was the the convoy. The three large ships, heavily laden, seemed to be crawling on the surface of the waves. They had not feared the presence of the enemy in these areas known to be dangerous, and their crude caution was fatal to them. The appearance of the corsairs struck them with terror. Only one of the three ships, the Star,  attempted resistance. This ship was equipped with a forward-facing "bow-chaser" cannon.  The cannonball it fired fell into the water a hundred yards from the Revenant.

“Mahé,” shouted the Malouin to the most skilful of his gunners, “are you capable of amputating this oaf's foresail?"

“Nothing is easier, if you wish, Captain,” replied Mahé.

"So, go ahead and cut out this pigeon's wing neatly."

Mahé ran to one of the starboard guns and pointed carefully.
A few minutes later, a tremendous detonation shook the air, and from the deck of the Revenant you could see the foresail of the English ship crashing down onto the deck and covering it with debris. The Star immediately brought up its flag. Immediately the two corsairs approached the convoy and ordered the crews to come on board as prisoners.

It was the captain of the Star who came to implore moderation from the victors. “Commander,” he said to Surcouf, “you will do with our people what you please. However, we dare to hope that you will behave like a gentleman towards the ladies who are with us and who cannot be held as prisoners."

The formidable sea skimmer frowned. “Sir,” he replied, “just for those words I should have you hanged. They constitute a gratuitous insult. I don't know how you do things in England. But here, you are dealing with French people. This tells you that the ladies will only have to praise our conduct."

There was, near the place of capture, a fairly green and deserted islet. The three ships, crewed by French sailors, were anchored in a shaded cove on the shore, and then, Surcouf gave the order to disembark all the passengers, the women first. There were around twenty of all conditions. Among this number appeared a young and elegant patrician, with a proud face and blue eyes full of steel reflections. When she was in the presence of the corsair, she advanced towards him, her head held high, her gait assured.
“Sir,” she said to Le Malouin, “I cannot believe that you have perfidious intentions against us. You enjoy in England and the colonies the reputation of a courteous and well-bred man. This is how I know you."

Surcouf bowed, smiling. “You can assure yourself, my lady, that this reputation is justly accredited. If the necessities of war have forced me to interrupt your journey, please believe that it is with the deepest regret that I have caused you this trouble. But, your compatriots permitting, I will have the honor of sending you on your way.

“Sir,” replied the pretty prisoner, “I was sure that we would be under the protection of your honor. Let me ask you, however, if it is your intention to abandon us on this deserted islet."

The Malouin made a new salute, more graceful than the previous one. “Miladi, you will only stay there as long as necessary for the inevitable joust. Your beautiful eyes will undoubtedly contemplate a battle at sea, because I understand that your compatriots are giving chase. Please allow me to leave you until tomorrow under the protection - I do not say, on purpose, under the guard - of some of my most amiable sailors, and as soon as our affair with your compatriots is resolved, we will have the honor to give you back the freedom of the path."

"But sir," cried the young woman, "are you only planning for the case where you are victorious?"

"It’s my habit, madame."

"So you never anticipated the possibility of a defeat?"

"I only foresee my death, my lady."

"That is valiant speaking, sir, and I admire you for this speech. But it is hardly reassuring for us prisoners, let me tell you."

"On the contrary, madame, if I die, it is because the English will be victorious, and, in this case, they will have nothing more urgent than to deliver you."

The young woman turned her head away. A long sigh heaved her chest. “What a terrible thing war is, Monsieur Surcouf! It can give glory to some, but see what price this glory is paid for!"


"You speak the truth, my lady. But if you believe me, we will exchange such thoughts when peace is made between our two nations."

On his order, the crews of the three corsairs improvised a sort of camp in a well-sheltered valley. First, a large area was mowed and burned off as a precaution against snakes and venomous insects. With spars, yards and tackle of all kinds, tents were erected under which bunks and hammocks were installed for the use of the prisoners. Fires were kept up all night around the tents, although the islet did not appear large enough to contain wild animals. A company of fifty men kept watch throughout the darkness, at a sufficient distance so as not to intrude on  the prisoners's privacy.

Surcouf, always attentive, tasked Clavaillan with assisting him in his work as a protective guard.

The marquis therefore put on his most brilliant uniform and accompanied his leader to the captives, bringing along Will as a sort of ladies' page,  in the absence of appointed servants.

The little boy immediately attracted the goodwill of the young Englishwoman: “You seem very young to serve, my child,” she said to him, with a maternal smile, playing on the double meaning of the word “serve.” (12_4_1)

"Milady," Will, who was well educated for the mind as well as for courage, replied gaily: "I serve France with my heart and England with admiration for its daughters."

Surcouf and Clavaillan applauded with the captive. “Definitely, gentlemen,” she said, “we are right to assure you that you fear no one on any battlefield. The spirit comes to you early."

She drew the boy near her and made him tell her his story. She questioned him at length about his origins and his family. Tears moistened his eyelids when he told her that his mother and sister lived in Ootacamund in a valley buried at the foot of the Nielgherries Mountains, that for almost three years they had not heard from him.

“Will,” said the prisoner gently, “I promise you that if I arrive  safely to India, I will go to Madras to see my relative Lady Blackwood, and from there I will go to Ootacamund to console your mother and sister."

"What!" cried Jacques de Clavaillan, “are you then that relative of whom Lady Blackwood spoke to me in Madras, Lady Stanhope, if I am not mistaken?"

“Myself, at your service, Monsieur le Marquis de Clavaillan,” said the laughing young woman with a deep bow, worthy of the old regime.

"Madame," replied the Frenchman, I was allowed to doubt it. It has been almost three years since Lady Blackwood told me that she was awaiting your arrival, and since then I have believed you had reached your destination."

“Sir,” replied Lady Stanhope, in the same tone, “you have been able to keep the sea so well for these three years that my family, rightly alarmed, has not allowed me to embark. Hence my delay." »
Jacques smiled, then, after a few seconds of hesitation, continued: "May I be allowed, my lady, to ask you another question?"

"I don’t see any kind of impediment, Monsieur le Marquis."

"Since you authorize me, I will therefore ask you if you took two grand pianos from Europe, which Lady Blackwood seemed to be in great concern about. These, she told me, are recent marvels."
 
The amiable Englishwoman gave free rein to her cheerfulness: " Let's begin! I see you are wonderfully informed. Indeed, sir, these pianos, according to the name given to them by the Italians, pianoforte, are to our harpsichords and spinets what modern cannons are to the bombardes of Crécy. And, since you question me with such good grace, know that these pianos were carefully stowed in the hold of the Star.

“The  ship that forced us to lower its foresail,” said Surcouf.

"That one, gentlemen. And you were really kind not to sink it, because, by sinking it, you would have made me lose the sum of four hundred pounds. I owe you, again, a sincere gratitude."

The corsair echoed the young woman’s hilarity: “Don’t thank me too much, my lady. By sparing your ships, I was sparing my purse and also my good reputation."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"You must  understand that my friend Jacques had committed, in Madras, the chivalrous imprudence of undertaking on my behalf to return the two precious musical instruments safe and sound from any damage."

"So, sir, I can be sure that my pianos will accompany me?"

"Gently, my lady, gently. I answer you, faith of Surcouf, that your pianos will be returned to you, but I cannot guarantee you that they will arrive in India at the same time as us."

" And why not, please, Mr. Surcouf?'

"Because, madame, highwayman that I am, I profess a special honesty. It would never occur to me to defraud the taxman or my sailors of what is due to them in the prizes."

"What does that mean in good French? questioned the young woman with concern."

"In bad French, alas! Madam," continued Surcouf, "this means that I am forced to bring my catch back to Bourbon where they will be valued and sold at the best possible price."

"SO!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands, “I can say goodbye to my poor pianos! What a misfortune, indeed, what a misfortune!"

"Don’t worry, my lady. I told you I would give them back to you."

"How could you return them to me, since they must be sold?"

"Madam," concluded the young privateer, laughing, "it is my honor that I commit to this. And now choose between your compatriots and your pianos. If you value the latter, wish the former to be defeated."

With these ironic words, Surcouf took leave of the prisoner and returned to his ship where he had to supervise the preparations for the coming fight. The English wanted battle. On the horizon they  could see the Kent, the Eagle and the Queen Elizabeth, advancing abreast to meet their enemies. It was almost five o'clock in the evening. Obviously the fight, if it began at such an hour, would be interrupted by night. At this instant the weather was dangerous and indecisive, between the monsoons, when the wind seems to hesitate in taking its direction and passes back and forth between the four cardinal points. Surcouf, who neglected no circumstance, was particularly impressed by a sudden wind shift  from the northeast to the south; he called Clavaillan. “Jacques,” he said, “here is something which  will annoy the English, but which will serve us at the same time. I'm going to try something my own way, and I think I'll succeed.

“It is your habit to succeed,” replied the marquis pleasantly.

As Surcouf had predicted, having to beat against  the strong wind, the English ships were only moving forward with difficulty. It is true that the same cause delayed the progress of Confiance, left behind with the Good Hope. At nightfall, these two ships were within cannon range of the English vessels. Surcouf immediately ordered them to open fire, without slowing down their march, in order to attract the squadron as far in advance as possible.
He feared the sudden appearance of the rest of the English fleet and wanted to give himself time  to fight the three leaders as soon as possible.

The Confiance obeyed the order strictly, and, under the first shadows, a long detonation announced that the French had not waited for the enemy's fire. The corsairs were excellent gunners. This first blow had a marvelous impact. It struck   the Eagle, knocking off  the bowsprit with part of the forecastle, which forced the corvette to stop. The two other vessels, fearing to get lost in the darkness, anchored in turn on a shallow part of the reef and waited for daylight. The Confiance took advantage of this to move in front of the Kent, to which the Good Hope sent a double volley of its retreating pieces, killing and wounding around fifteen men. Furious, the Englishman returned fire and striking  the Good Hope's amidships on the starboard side. The damaged ship had to flee to escape a second discharge.

This was the moment chosen by Surcouf to accomplish his daring feat. He had noted very precisely the situation of the English ships. Between the Kent and the Queen Elizabeth there was a passage barely sufficient for a ship to pass at the risk of being struck down by both adversaries at the same time. However, this was the course taken by the formidable corsair.

The night had become completely dark. Covering his fire, unmasking the fifty pieces of his battery, Surcouf took the wind in all his sails and ran straight towards the two English ships.
It was barely two o'clock in the morning, and the cannonade between Confiance and Kent had ended since ten o'clock in the evening. The exhausted crews, not suspecting a nighttime attack, rested, thinking themselves in complete safety. The Revenant had, above all, its prodigious speed. But to attempt such a maneuver required prodigious sailors. What was more, they needed the incomparable leader to whom they had blindly given themselves. (#12#9).

The terrible corsair therefore set off, tailwind, with tremendous speed. He thus arrived within a stone's throw of the Queen Elizabeth, without anyone having seen him coming. But at that moment the lookout sounded the alarm, calling everyone on deck. That was expected. Surcouf had taken precautions. The entire starboard battery sent its broadside into the English corvette. The result was terrible. Thirty men fell; the mizzen, chopped, fell on the quarterdeck. The confusion was inexpressible.

" Fire!" ordered Commander Peterson desperately. It was too late. Carried away by its dazzling speed, the Revenant passed, sending its port broadside into the barely awake Kent. The response of the English ships only harmed each other. During the two hours of night that remained, Kent and Queen Elizabeth fired away at each other with stupid fury. At dawn, they realized their disastrous mistake and ceased fire. Alas! This confusion had been disastrous. The Kent had twenty cannon balls in her hull; the Queen Elizabeth, in addition to her mizzen being shaved, had had her rudder broken.

Meanwhile, the corsair had withdrawn to the south and joined the amazed Jacques."Eh ! he said to him, while his sailors laughed heartily, “do you think it was quite successful? Here they are, bombarding each other like hell. We will only have to pick up the wounded and the dead."

And he himself laughed at the success of his stratagem, showing his entire crew, their hull intact. Then, after having distributed a double ration of wine and brandy and toasting with the entire crew, he said: " Let's go ! everyone go to sleep. It’s a well-earned rest, and there’s still a lot of work left for tomorrow." The order was carried out immediately. The sailors just wanted to sleep.

While they returned to their hammocks, Surcouf had a longboat launched into the sea and, rowed by six men from the Sainte-Anne, accompanied by Jacques de Clavaillan, he went to compliment the sailors of the Confiance and those of the Good Hope, the most tested by enemy fire.

---

The day finally dawned, a clear, luminous day, but whose torrid heat was attenuated by the blowing of a cool breeze. The hour of the great battle had come.

Already, on the shores of the islet, the prisoners, Lady Stanhope at the head, had rushed to witness the adventures of the combat. All night they had been kept in suspense by the sound of the cannon. They had seen the sea light up off the coast with the rapid flashes of the cannons. Panting with anguish, feeling that their destiny was hanging in the balance without them being able to help in the outcome, or lend a hand to their compatriots, they had called for the day with all their wishes, hoping that victory would belong to the English. They could not believe that the privateers would have had the audacity to attack the regular navy of Great Britain, a frigate flanked by two Royal Navy corvettes.

And yet, with the daylight that they had been hoping for with all their wishes, it was revealed that this was exactly what had happened.

As soon as the first mists had cleared, the three warships could be seen from the coast resolutely advancing against the wind on the port  tack (13_1_2). The English were taking the offensive. They were going all out. The light had allowed them to recognize the damage suffered by their own clumsiness and in what ridiculous way they had allowed themselves to be played by their enemy. And now, with rage in their hearts, thirsty for revenge, they burned to make the daring corsair atone for the humiliation they had suffered.

But Surcouf was already ready for the fight. The crews, rested and fresh, were discussing the night's incident. All the men capable of fighting, ax and cutlass in hand, were preparing to attack their adversaries.  They had had the foretaste of victory. They intended to finish the enemy off.

When it was time to set sail, Jacques de Clavaillan called Will.
“Will, my boy,” he said to him, “this is the first affair you are going to attend. It will be hot. Are you scarred ?"

The cabin boy's eyes sparkled and his fist clenched convulsively.
“Are you saying this to me, Monsieur le Marquis?"

Clavaillan gave a hearty burst of laughter, and, tapping the kid on the shoulder: " Well done ! he said, that's the best answer, "Monsieur le Marquis", just that! Morbleu! You remind me of Rodrigo's response to his father, in Le Cid (13_2_1). I see you will be a seahawk. Come here, and kiss me like a brother."

  Will threw himself madly into the arms of his leader. Clavaillan continued, after a scrupulous examination of the boy: “You're not much older than thirteen, I think, but you look seventeen or eighteen. Remember that the goddamms will not spare you. So do your job well, and spare no one when we board them, because it is certain that we will board, my boy."

He had not finished speaking when the signal for the attack was hoisted to the mainmast of the Revenant. Responding to the challenge of the English, Surcouf ran towards the enemy.
The forces of the two parties were almost equal, although the English had only three ships to oppose to the four of the French.
But the Good Hope, with its two tail-chasers, could not be considered a fighter. Besides, Surcouf only intended to use it as a stratagem.

His order of battle was very simple. Commanding the Revenant, he would personally attack Kent. Clavaillan and Sainte-Anne would take on the Eagle, while Confiance would engage the  Queen Elizabeth. Surcouf would imperceptibly attract the frigate until it was within range of the Good Hope. At that moment the few resolute fellows led by Evel and Ustaritz would attach the captured English ship to the stern of the large vessel, and while the latter attempted to extricate itself from this unforeseen obstacle, the corsair would strafe it relentlessly. The order was carried out literally.

Commodore John Harris, so presumptuous and so full of disdainful arrogance towards his subordinate, Commander Peterson, was unaware of Surcouf's strategic skill and did not want to believe it.

It was also the first time that Surcouf had acted in command of a squadron. His genius, quick to rapid assimilations, would borrow from Nelson himself the daring method which had assured the great English sailor his double victory of Aboukir and Trafalgar (13_3_1). Seeing the four French ships coming towards them, King George's sailors could not believe their eyes.

However, they had to face the facts when, having reached a quarter of a mile from their line, simultaneously the Revenant, the Sainte-Anne and the Confiance turned across the wind, and rained down a veritable deluge of iron on the English ships. A burst of grapeshot killed thirty men aboard the Kent. At the same time a cannonball  carried away half the gangway, and, before the crew could clear the deck, ten more cannonballs from the Revenant's battery burst through the side of the frigate, extinguishing its starboard guns. The fight was already going badly.

John Harris understood this. Heavily, the Kent turned to starbord (13_3_2) and fired her broadside. Too late. Already the fast ship was passing with dazzling speed under the stern (13_3_3) of its heavy adversary. The Kent's two stern-chasers, the only guns which could bear (13_4_4), fired, but only razed  the Revenant's forecastle and killed or injured five men. On the other hand, the Revenant took the English frigate in enfilade, and caronades swept from end to end the deck already devastated by the first discharge.

Then, turning to port to run along the Kent's more damaged starboard side,  the Revenant sent a broadside of fifteen guns into the rigging of the Kent. It was terrible, like the passing of a waterspout. The main mast broke and  collapsed. The helm was broken and the vessel, like a swan whose wing and leg had been broken at the same time, began to drift miserably beneath the eddies.

“Bold guys!" shouted Surcouf. "He's ours!" That was the signal.
At that moment, the bow of the Kent brushed against the sternpost of the Good Hope. A supreme discharge of the latter's tail-chasers  made a gap in the English ranks, and the twenty men of Evel and Ustaritz, rushing on the forecastle of the frigate, hooked its bowsprit to the rear of the heavy three-master.

The British sailors rushed to meet them. But at the same moment, the elusive Revenant turned for the third time, and swept the Kent with her starboard battery. The frigate was lost. A third of her crew had fallen under the grapeshot. The rest, more or less wounded, crowded around the commodore and his lieutenants. The defeat was lamentable, humiliating beyond expression.

Still,  John Harris was as brave as he was presumptuous. He wanted to face his enemies. Gathering his men in a square, he greeted, with a well-aimed musket fire, the sailors of the Revenant who rushed to board and scale the stern. Surcouf lost  about forty of his men there. But the next moment the English, sabred, hacked to pieces, reduced to the proportion of one man in four, were forced to lay down their arms.

The winner left the commodore his sword. The enemy also deserved this supreme honor. John Harris was lying on deck, wrapped in the British flag, his body and limbs riddled with eight wounds. “I did not expect to be defeated by you, Monsieur  Surcouf,” he murmured  when he was in the presence of the corsair.

“It’s not a small honor for me, sir,” Surcouf replied. "Your Lordship has done all his duty. You fall as a hero. I will bear witness to this to the English Admiralty." He gave the order to carefully carry away the wounded man, who he had placed in his own cabin aboard the Revenant. Then, mooring captured the frigate to the  Good Hope, he prepared to return to the charge against the two corvettes.

The Queen Elizabeth had fought desperately against the Confiance. Dismasted, transformed into a hulk, having only one able-bodied man left in ten, she refused to bring up her flag. Standing at the rear, his arm in a sling, the heroic Commander Peterson saluted the Confiance with a final discharge, which lost twenty men as a result. Then to the cry of: “Long live Old England!" the corvette and what remained of its crew were swallowed up in the troubled waves, blackened by the violence of the struggle.

At the same time, Jacques de Clavaillan captured the Eagle. The battle had been heated on this point more than on any other.
The brig, rivaling the Revenant in speed and audacity, had passed, under full sail, under the guns of the corvette. Superiorly served by his gunners, he had dismounted the guns on the Eagle's  deck, extinguishing the fire from the starboard batteries and lodged two cannonballs at the waterline. A returning volley broke the rudder of the English corvette, an admirably directed salvo fire killed around thirty men in the shrouds. And immediately the two ships found themselves side by side. The Englishman held on well. A hurricane of lead and grapeshot passed over the Sainte-Anne, ripping holes in heads and chests, mowing down legs and arms, piling up corpses. And when he had passed, Will, quivering, intoxicated by the powder, holding an ax in his left hand, a pistol in his right, found  himself standing without a scratch, alongside his commander, also intact.

It was the moment Clavaillan had been waiting for. The Sainte-Anne had caught the wind. She came full force into the port side of the Eagle and engaged her bowsprit in that of the Englishman. The shock was tremendous. But the sailors were ready. They had gathered in a compact mass around their commander. All together rushed to board the corvette, while six of the brig's guns fired simultaneously on the enemy's deck.

At that moment Will felt himself grabbed by the left arm. At the same time, a well-known voice shouted in his ear: "Hey,  pitchoun, things are heating up for the present. We're going to do battle with the Ingliches. Don't be afraid. We are near you."

"What," cried the boy, "you here, Piarrile? I believed you on Good Hope with Evel?"

"We were there, hey (13_6_1). But there is nothing more to do there for the next quarter of an hour. All is finished. So, you understand, nothing could stop Evel and me from coming to join the captain."

But there was no time for further discussion bcause the attack had already begun. The sailors of the Sainte-Anne rushed feverishly to the deck of the Eagle. They were valiantly received there. The English fought with the courage of despair. Commander George Blackford had already seen that the battle was lost. From the top of his quarterdeck (13_6_2), he had seen the capture of the Kent and guessed that of the Queen Elizabeth. Now, all he could  do was to die, selling his life dearly. Standing in the middle of his men, he directed the fire with the composure of his race and watched death come without flinching at its approach.

A multitude of battles were taking  place on the deck. Jacques de Clavaillan, sword in hand, had already made his breakthrough.
He had passed, opening a bloody path through the ranks of the English. Around him the corsairs multiplied their exploits, blood spread over the polished deck like a red tablecloth , and the bare feet of the sailors splashed in the hot blood, flowing from the wounds frightful to see. However, the enemy still resisted with formidable tenacity. Clavaillan decided that he would only overcome this resistance by killing the valiant leader who led it.  He looked around quickly, and saw Evel and Ustaritz at his side, fighting like heroes. “Boys,” he shouted to them, “clear the place a little, so that I can join the English commander. I have a personal score to settle with him."

In the twinkling of an eye, the ax or the saber had cut a gap in the living hedge which surrounded King George's officer. Then the marquis advanced with his sword raised and shouted: “Mr George Blackford, I have a word to say to you."

This word, thrown out as a polite phrase, struck the audience with astonishment. The fight was suspended for a moment. The Englishman advanced to the front of the small troop which was still defending itself and replied haughtily: “I don’t know what you have to say to me; I nevertheless agree to listen to you."


  Clavaillan removed a stream of yellow ribbons from his jerkin (13_7_1). “Sir,” he said, “these ribbons were given to me by one of your relatives… to remind you of her. I am the Marquis Jacques de Clavaillan, lieutenant of Surcouf. I offer you the chance to surrender, pledging my word as a gentleman that you and your men will be treated with respect and deference."

"What if I refuse, sir?" replied the disdainful Englishman.

"I have a second honorable alternative to offer you. You will emerge alone from the ranks and I will have the honor of crossing swords with you. If I kill you, your men will surrender at will, and they will be given the honors of war, that is to say, I will release them unconditionally."

"What if I kill you?"

"In this case the fight will continue until the Eagle is taken."

George Blackford raised his hat and saluted: “Monsieur Marquis de Clavaillan, I am your man. Stand up for yourself." And he stepped up to the young leader.

“One moment,” said the latter, “I must give you the ribbons of your kind relative. Please allow me to put them within your reach."

So saying, Jacques de Clavaillan skewered the stream of ribbons with his sword and fell into guard presenting the weapon thus garlanded. The duel began immediately, in the spac between the two hostile bodies. The two opponents were of the same height and almost the same age. Taller and more corpulent, the Englishman had the advantage over the Frenchman of his weight and volume. The privateer, it is true, compensated for this disproportion with incomparable flexibility and agility.

The fight could only be fatal. Everyone understood that each of the two champions fought as much for himself as for the honor of his people and his flag. Their determination was to be doubled, their victory all the more meritorious. For a few minutes there was a tremendous clanging of colliding blades. The steel resonated with silvery vibrations, and the spectacle was so captivating that a prodigious silence reigned on the deck of the corvette. Suddenly, carried away by a thoughtless impulse, George Blackford lunged hard, delivering a disproportionate blow to Surcouf's young lieutenant. The attack slipped on  Clavaillan's sword, and he latter, quick as lightning, responded with a furious riposte, in blow after blow. The two men were so close to each other that the entire sword of the Marquis disappeared into the chest of his enemy. George Blackford stood up, choked with blood, flailed his arms and fell like a mass to the deck. He was dead.“Hands down!" shouted Jacques, raising his bloody sword.

But instead of complying with the clauses of single combat, the surviving sailors of the Eagle uttered an angry roar, and, uttering a hurray of defiance, rushed on the French. Jacques was in the front row. He hadn't anticipated the shock. His foot slipped in a pool of blood and staggered. At the same time an Englishman, of gigantic stature, rushed at him, with his ax raised, ready to split his skull. Around him the melee was furious. The English sailors defended themselves with the courage of despair.  Clavaillan parried the blow dealt to him with his left arm. The weapon slipped, cutting his shoulder. But he managed to get up, and once again the commander was at the mercy of his adversary, unable to fight in the position in which he found himself. Suddenly the Englishman staggered, uttering a muffled imprecation.
At the same time a gunshot rang out in Clavaillan's ears, a hand grabbed him under the arm and helped him to stand up.

“Bravo, Captain! The man is dead!" shouted a clear voice.
He turned around. Will Ternant was at his side, holding his still smoking pistol in his hand. The fight was over. About fifteen sailors were still holding on. Seeing the futility of further resistance, they threw down their weapons and surrendered. They were quickly surrounded and taken over to the Sainte-Anne. Only then did the valiant brig, dragging the corvette in tow, rejoin the other three victorious vessels.

Surcouf opened his arms to Jacques de Clavaillan and kissed him in full view of all the crews. Then he gave the order for a well-earned rest. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. Around six o'clock in the evening, the ships docked at the islet in order to bury the dead and place the most seriously injured on land for a few days.

Among these was Commodore John Harris. Surcouf watched over him with the care of a father for his child. During the night, a barracks of planks was built at the end of the island farthest from the prisoner camp. That same  night , the sad remains of those whom the sea had not swallowed up were entrusted to the earth. Lieutenant Jacques de Clavaillan, Surcouf and all the privateer crews accompanied Commander George Blackford to his final resting place, who died a hero on the deck of the corvette Eagle. A section of rock detached from the granite, a wooden cross on which the officer's name was crudely engraved marked the place of his burial. These duties rendered to the vanquished, the French paid to their own dead the tribute of honor that they owed them.

---

That morning, Surcouf and Jacques de Clavaillan boarded the corsair's longboat and were rowed ashore. Alas, the little camp was gloomy. An immense desolation reigned there.The prisoners had  in fact, been able to witness the fight, to follow all the events, and to contemplate its dramatic ending.  Although the victors had shown the most courteous discretion in the joy of their victory, the vanquished had seen, from afar,  the landing of the wounded and the funerals of the dead. And now all their hopes had vanished. They were at the mercy of the corsairs, all the more triumphant as they had just defeated a regular flotilla and sailors from His British Majesty. What would be the fate of the captives? The English had recently spread the most alarming rumors about their enemies. Had it not been said, in fact, that Surcouf and his men sold the white prisoners as slaves to the black chiefs of the coast?
And although, since then, the young leader had distinguished himself by acts of generosity to which his adversaries themselves had to do justice, the old slanders still haunted some fearful imaginations. It was therefore with very real anguish that the captives saw the boat carrying Surcouf and his lieutenant pull away from the Revenant towards land. The most derogatory comments began to circulate.

An old woman, who had been exasperated by this forty-eight hour stay in the tent, was particularly acerbic in her recriminations against the “pirates.”  “Now that they no longer have our fleet to fear, they will completely subject us to the worst treatment. Let us expect to see ourselves piled into the hold and thrown onto some shore of Arabia or Africa, unless they prefer to abandon us right here and let us die of hunger."

"Yes, added another, and there are horrible stories about them. It is said that when children are taken, they give them to cannibals who eat them."

A cry of horror greeted this abominable hypothesis, and gratuitous curses began to rain down on the “Damned Frenchmen”, capable of all crimes.

Fortunately, Lady Stanhope restored calm. “You’re all being silly,” she said in a firm voice. "Is it reasonable to suppose so much cruelty in enemies who, until now, have only given us signs of courtesy? Your fears are ridiculous."

This silenced  the accusers. However, the one who had spoken first did not want to let herself be denied without having the last word. She murmured in a low voice: “Certainly they haven’t behaved too badly so far. But maybe that was just hypocrisy on their part."

“In that case, let us wait until they unmask themselves to judge them,” replied Lady Stanhope.

This word definitively restored peace in the small camp. The longboat  had just landed, and they could see Surcouf and his companion, followed by a few men, coming  towards the camp.
When he came up, he spoke to Lady Stanhope, as the obvious leader of the captives.

“Milady, I have to apologize to you for a detention that it was not up to me to put an end to earlier. However, I have come to tell you that it is coming to an end."

"How should we understand your words, sir?" questioned the young woman.

"In the only sense that suits them, my lady; I had the honor of telling you, the day before yesterday, that whatever the outcome of the fight, you would regain your freedom. I have come to put this promise into practice."

He spoke in English, and all those around Lady Stanhope were relieved. A murmur of joy ran through the audience, and the same people who had previously outrageously charged the corsairs almost burst into applause.

Lady Stanhope, who was triumphant, nevertheless moderated her enthusiasm: “Freedom is an excellent thing, Monsieur Surcouf,” she said, “and no one appreciates it more than me. We still need to be able to enjoy it."

Surcouf  replied: “I agree,  madame, but I don’t really understand the meaning of your words. Would you please explain?"

Lady Stanhope expressed all her thoughts: “Sir, the freedom to die of hunger and thirst is one that man cannot rejoice in. Now, it seems to me that, on this rock, there is no room for any other freedom."

The privateer saluted politely and replied with an ironic smile: “In truth, my lady, I did not believe that I had incurred such distrust on your part. Is there a single act of mine that can justify you  fearing to  be marooned?"

She seemed touched by the reproach that her insinuation had deserved: “I admit that I spoke too soon, sir, and, the better to make amends to you, I will remain silent until you have told us everything."

Then, very gallantly, Surcouf continued: “Here is what I have to let you know, madame. The protective genius of France has given us the advantage over your compatriots. Robert Surcouf and Jacques de Clavaillan, abominable privateers, as everyone knows, defeated His Lordship Commodore John Harris and his lieutenants James Peterson and George Blackford. The frigate Kent, the corvettes Eagle and Queen Elisabeth fell into our power. Of the three valiant officers who commanded them, only one is alive, Commodore John Harris. We transported him and several other wounded men to barracks which we have hastily constructed, and which you can see from here, half a mile east on this island. These brave men need to be cared for, and it is about this that I came to speak with you, my lady."

The young woman was moved by this statement. She said nobly:
“You need have have no doubt, Monsieur Surcouf, that English women will use all their means to relieve their compatriots. What do you think we need to do to provide them with care?

"Madame," continued the corsair, "among the wounded men, there are some  whom I believe it would be difficult to transport at the moment, and for whom a stay on this island, despite the lack of comfort it offers, is nevertheless essential. Others, on the contrary, can now leave for India. I therefore suggest that you embark on one of the captured vessels , which that I shall put at your disposal, with all able-bodied people and sailors likely to be used in the maneuver. We are barely six days from Bombay. They will reach the English possessions and notify the authorities of the events. They can then send better equipped transports to collect and transport the surviving wounded  to India.

"This is very judiciously reasoned, sir. But what are  these wounded to do in the interval?"

Surcouf nodded. It was obvious that the problem was delicate.
“It takes about two weeks,” he said, “for their transportation to be possible. I would make it my duty to take them with me, if their very situation did not require the greatest care. But it is impossible for me to stay in these areas where I run the risk of a second encounter with King George's ships. Now, whatever honor I may reap in that, I do not care to run such risks. Please also consider that I myself have injured people on board, and that I must provide them with care as quickly as possible. All I can do is leave sufficient food and epuipment here to enable you to treat your compatriots as far as possible. I will unload all the crates of supplies and remedies available. I will take advantage of your presence to organize the distribution of aid among everyone and prepare the departure of those who can return to sea.”

The Englishwoman held out her thin, white hand to the corsair.
“In truth, sir, it is impossible to act more frankly than you do. I would be ashamed to remain inferior to your own generosity. So ensure the departure of those who must embark first. For me, my place is at the bedside of the wounded. I will therefore remain on the island until the return of the English ships, with those of our compatriots who agree to become my auxiliaries."

“You are a valiant woman, milady,” said Surcouf with emotion.
And he bowed on the hand that was held out to him to bring it to his lips.

Preparations were actively pushed for the first departure. Of all the ships involved in the battle, the Good Hope was the least damaged, so the  caulkers and sailors went to work on it,  and got it  seaworthy that same day. All the English naval sailors and those prisoners from the convoy who were eager to return to the Coromandel coast were sent aboard. (#14#5)


For the others, they repaired, as best they could, the barracks hastily erected the previous night. Guided by Clavaillan, Evel and Ustaritz, who had lived in India for a long time, they managed to build a small wooden house in a valley on the islet where a few trees grew, at the level of a stream whose clear water and continuous chirping gave a corner of freshness to this corner of the deserted rock.

Commodore John Harris and his most seriously wounded companions were carefully transported there. Clavaillan, who had some knowledge of medicine, acted as surgeon for the occasion, skillfully washed all the wounds and showed Lady Stanhope how to continue this somewhat rudimentary treatment.

During the night that followed, the Breton and the Basque, helped by Will, who was definitely becoming a man, erected, next to the main shed which they called "the hospital", a small cabin on which they worked with real craftsmanship.

They tarred the joints and cracks, lined the partitions with mats, and covered the roof with tarpaulins and sailcloth. They carefully broke the ground, after having leveled and raked it, and covered it with a bed of dry leaves. After which, they divided the cabininto three compartments, in the largest of which they put  a hammock, a table,a chair, an assortment of sundries collected from the things left behind by the liberated captives, and a few books borrowed from the libraries of the Revenant and the  Sainte-Anne.

These preparations completed, Will went in person to fetch LadyStanhope. “Milady,” he said to her, bowing as gallantly as he could, “here is the room that we can put at your disposal. Forgive us for not being able to offer you a more comfortable one."

The young woman looked around her with a smile. “But, in truth, my boy, this room is superb. I have never had better accommodation during my travels. Are you an artist, by any chance?"

And as the boy apologized, blushing, the great lady began to consider him with sympathetcally  question him about his origins, about his family and seemed moved to learn that he had left his mother and his sister to the India.

“Will,” she asked, “I am going to  Madras, to stay with Lady Blackwood, the governor’s wife. Would you like me to go and see  your mother and your sister?"

  Will Ternant's eyes lit up with a flash that shone through the tears, and it was with a trembling voice that he replied: " Oh ! my lady, I dare not ask you for such a mark of kindness. It has not yet been three years since I left them, and it seems to me like a century ago. They must think I'm dead."

"Well, my child," replied the young woman, "I promise you that when I arrive in India, first of all, I will fulfill your commission. I will go to your mother in Ootacamund to tell her that her son is a brave and kind boy, of whom she can be proud in every way."


That night was the last that Surcouf's crew spent in the Maldives archipelago. At dawn, the Revenant, the Sainte-Anne and the Confiance were ready to set sail. It was the summer season and the wind was blowing from the north.

For the last time, Surcouf and Clavaillan went ashore. “It only remains for me to bid you farewell, my lady,” said Surcouf, “asking your forgiveness, once again, for the trouble brought to your journey. I would like to hope that regardless of the ships you are expecting, the English fleet in the Bay of Bengal will have the idea of ​​carrying out reconnaissance in that direction. In this case, it would be your soonest deliverance."

“Sir,” replied the kind woman, “I will undoubtedly always have the regret of having made your acquaintance in such circumstances, but in no way the regret of having shaken the hand of the most chivalrous of French people."

And, as they bowed to thank her, she added: “Don’t forget my pianos, Monsieur. Surcouf and Monsieur. de Clavaillan.
“We'll be careful not to, my lady,” said Jacques. "If no English cannonball comes to burst our hulls, you will see your pianos again safe and sound."

Before leaving, they went to convey their compliments to Commodore Harris. “I hope,” said Surcouf, “that your lordship will not be too angry with me for what happened to him, and that, once peace is made, you will remember us well."

“These are the hazards of war, sir,” replied the Englishman phlegmatically.

An hour later, the three privateer ships, bringing back the captured ships, took the southern route again, heading towards the French islands. Thus ended the glorious struggle of the Maldives…

Eight days after their arrival at Bourbon,  ago and the cargoes, minus Surcouf's share, were sold at auction. The government commissioner himself presided over the sale.

A considerable stock of European goods which their  origin had raised to very high prices had just been sold, when the Negro and Indian crews, who were carrying the various lots to the auction bar, carefully pushed in front of them a bulky object or rather a gigantic crate swathed in straw and wrapping cloth. In an instant the curiosity of the public was excited.

“What could be in there?" everyone asked themselves in amazement."

"It is undoubtedly one of those expensive pieces of furniture that the French make with particular taste and talent, for which the sons of perfidious Albion appear most eager."

Now, while everyone was chatting on the subject, the sales commissioner announced: “A grand piano, from the Pleyel house, in Paris."

There was a long exclamation of surprise as well as ignorance.
“A grand piano, a grand piano! What's this ?" And the beautiful ladies of the colony, the young harp and harpsichord players, flocked around the unknown instrument, eager to unravel its mystery.

A Frenchman's gallantry imposes eternal obligations (being a species of honor). The commissioner was forced to remove its wooden and canvas veils from the piano. It was a type of table with an elongated back, ending in a point, hence its name of grand piano, on which the sounding strings stretched out, ready to vibrate at the first movement of the keyboard.
Kind to the end, the commisioner asked the audience: “Is there one of these ladies who would care to give us an audition?"

Twenty white, delicate hands reached out toward the white keys.
It was necessary, as it were, to draw lots, and it was a sixteen-year-old child, renowned for her virtuosity, who sat down at the keyboard. Then the strings vibrated, and the low or high notes soared in the cadence of a joyful rhythm, marveling the audience

It was a spectacle  never before seen in this banal sales room devoted to commercial transactions. A real concert was improvised and fresh, clear voices echoed the song of the instrument. A good hour passed like this, during which the sale was suspended. And the strangeness of the event attracted so many curious people that the auction hall resembled a theater.
However, eventually,  this improvised concert had to be interrupted. The time had come to  auction off the magical instrument. There was a great silence in the audience, a silence that was the precursor of a storm.

“How much is the piano?" called out commissioner.

"Four thousand francs," replied a feminine voice.

“Four thousand five hundred,” replied another.

"Five thousand."

"Five thousand five hundred."

"Six thousand."

Having reached this figure, the auction moderated its pace. “Six thousand one hundred,” ventured a very elegant lady.

“Six thousand two hundred,” intervened a grandfatherly old man, on whose arm clung a graceful twelve-year-old girl.

And for a few minutes the struggle continued increasing the numbers by proportionally decreasing amounts. These reached seven thousand three hundred francs.

It was a huge price, even for a piano coming from France.
The commissioner struck the first two blows in the midst of breathless silence. Then he raised his hammer for the third time...

" Ten thousand !"  shouted a male voice, a voice of command. Everyone turned around in deep astonishment. It was Robert Surcouf himself. Faced with this enormous sum, which seemed disproportionate to all, there was no more competition, and the instrument was awarded to the privateer.  But this only stimulated the curiosity of the spectators. The glosses, the comments, the hypotheses began to flow.

“Surcouf who is a buyer, Surcouf who bids one time, .and  doesn’t bid halfway! He must be crazy."

"Ten thousand francs, a piano! That doesn't make common sense. What can this sea dog do with a piano?"

"I guess he’s not going to play aboard the Revenant?"

"Who knows ? Maybe he wants to make his crew dance."

" For that he doesn’t dance, if his crew do, it's to  another music."

"Not to mention, someone added, that he already has one like this, which was allocated to him in his share of the prize."

There was more astonishment.“Ah! So, would he like to found an export house for musical instruments?"

A burst of laughter accompanied this humorous reflection.
But silence was quickly restored. We had just seen the privateer climb the stand. Surcouf, lifting his cornet hat, made a brief speech: “Gentlemen, and especially you, ladies, forgive me the damage I am causing to your talents by taking this piano away from you. I gave my word and am bound by a vow. To make the English dance, I have the canons of Revenant, Sainte-Anne and Confiance. But I promised their wives a souvenir of ours. That's why I'm taking this piano away from you."

---

That evening there was a brilliant reception at the Governor's Palace in Madras. All the notables from the city and the surrounding area, both the military and the wholesale merchants, planters, bankers, etc., had gathered in the salons and in the shaded alleys where  Lady Blackwood did the honors with her charming grace of a young and pretty woman, with that exquisite urbanity which is one of the prerogatives of birth. For each person, she had a smile, a kind word, reminding this one of an act of courage, showing this one that she was interested in his speculations or his hopes as a planter. She went from group to group, preceded and followed by a murmur of admiration, bringing with her gaiety, making spirit spring forth, so true is it that the presence of a young and amiable woman is enough to spread joy everywhere, to stimulate enthusiasm, to liven up a meeting even made up of the most diverse elements.


This reception given in the splendid  gardens of the governor's palace was in honor of Lady Stanhope, a childhood friend and relative of Lady Blackwood. Now, all the guests had now arrived and they were still awaiting the appearance of this young woman whose reputation for beauty and her recent adventures at sea had made her famous in the city. The most improbable stories were circulating about her and curiosity was all the more excited because in the month since she had landed in Madras, no one had yet seen her.

Barely an hour after arriving at the Government Palace where her friend had welcomed her with the greatest effusions of friendship, Lady Stanhope declared to the latter that she could only stay for a day or two, having to go, as soon as possible, to Ootacamund.
" Good Lord!" cried Lady Blackwood, "what do you want to do in that remote country, where I have never set foot?"

Lady Stanhope's delicious face became serious. “I promised,” she said, “to make this excursion as soon as I had recovered from the fatigue of the crossing, and I feel very well that the day after tomorrow I will be completely in good condition."

"At least," asked her friend, a little annoyed, "will you tell me to whom you made this solemn promise?"

"Very willingly," smiled Lady Stanhope, "it is to a little French cabin boy who was part of Surcouf's crew."

"Are you serious, Lily?"

"Entirely so, dear. This little boy is named Guillaume Ternant. He comes from a very good Breton family. His father died a prisoner of the English. He has been gone for three years and he asked me to bring news of him to his mother and sister who live very close to Madras."

"And it’s for these French people that you’re talking about leaving me so soon, Lily?"

"It’s not like you to say that, Mary! Certainly, I feel all the more urgent to fulfill my promise because  they are French, that is to say enemies, it is true, but brave and loyal enemies." These words were characteristic  of that age, a grandiose time  when the bitter and merciless struggle did not, however, exclude a completely chivalrous courtesy.

Lady Blackwood stood up. She held out her hand to her friend.
“You're right, Lily, I shouldn't have spoken like that-- it was just that I was upset about your departure.  Forget what I said!"

"I don’t want to forget that generous Mary cared enough about me to forget herself...”

Peace was sealed with a smile and the governor's wife was the first to facilitate her friend's prompt departure.

---------------------------------

It was a great surprise to  Madame Ternant and her daughter to discover  that a foreigner from Madras, who appeared to be of high birth,   was asking to speak to them. And what was their joy when they heard from the lips of the young woman the good news that the latter brought them! They never tired of questioning her, repeating the absent man's words to their satisfaction, trying to imagine him from Lady Stanhope's descriptions.

“How tall is he now?" asked Ms. Ternant.

Smiling, the young woman stood up, put her little hand above her head and said:" Like that."

And the mother cried out: “It’s impossible, ma’am, when he left he was no taller than me."

“But that was three years ago, Mama,” remarked Anne, who was no less joyful than her mother.

However, there was another name that the young girl would have liked to pronounce, but she didn't dare. Fortunately, Lady Stanhope forestalled his desire. “I forgot that I was also responsible for all kinds of compliments and souvenirs for you, madame, and for Mademoiselle Anne, from a young officer of your acquaintance, Monsieur. Jacques de Clavaillan."

The young girl blushed with pleasure. It was more than enough to make her patient and to make her happy until her brother and her fiancé returned. When leaving for Ootacamund, Lady Stanhope had intended, as soon as her errand was done, to take the road back, but now, with her whimsical nature, she took a liking to the two French women, who for their part quickly began to cherish someone who had not hesitated to leave her own friends and her luxurious accomodations in Madras, to come to the backwoods bordering the  mountains, , to find two strangers in order to talk to them about their absent loved one.

So almost a month went by, and Lady Stanhope had not yet thought of leaving Ootacamund, when she received  a letter from Lady Blackwood, reproaching her for staying away so long.

That decided her. She responded immediately by apologizing and making such kind protests of repentance that Lady Blackwood without rancor prepared a grand evening for the return of the prodigal daughter...

--------------------------------

Thus, at five minutes to midnight, people were still waiting in the Madras palace for the appearance of the capricious young woman. Finally, as the fateful hour struck all the clocks, Lady Blackwood, who had disappeared for an instant, suddenly appeared giving her friend her arm. Certainly, this was a charming way of presenting her, but perhaps there was a bit of coquetry on the part of the pretty patrician.  If the comparison of an ugly face sometimes brings out a beautiful face better, surely nothing highlights a pretty woman more that the comparison of two different types of beautiful faces, in this case the  blonde Lady Blackwood, and the  brunette  Lady Stanhope. It was with the most flattering murmurs that the two young women were welcomed, and the incense of admiration which rose towards them and which they breathed with delight contributed in no small way to the radiance of their beauty. With bright eyes, smiling lips, lively complexions, they felt full of gratitude and affection for each other and responded with joyful laughter or mischievous repartee to the compliments addressed to them from all sides.

However, they had to separate: Lady Blackwood, called by her duties as mistress of the house, had to abandon her friend who was soon surrounded by a group of officers eager to hear from her pretty lips the story of her adventures. She did not need to be asked, moreover, and recounted how, embarked on a convoy bound for Madras, she was captured by Surcouf's small squadron.

" Well!" someone said, "this intrepid Surcouf has a good game! And it seems neither difficult nor dangerous to me to take a few defenseless ships, while you yourself are heavily armed."

“Surcouf is not content with seizing simple merchant ships and I was able to witness the capture of three of our English warships,” replied the young woman.

There was a low murmur of impotent rage in the audience, and as Lady Stanhope was about to be pressed with questions, word came that the fireworks were ready to go off. Everyone headed towards the garden and lined up around a fairly large space reserved for fireworks. And soon the serene night was illuminated with the brightest lights.  Countless rockets exploded with a crackle of gunfire, suns cast their golden light and wheels made great trails of light. There was everything down to the simplest Indian “pouldjerries,” earthen pots filled with flammable powder and riddled with holes, through which the fire spurts, once the things are  ignited. Once the fireworks were over, they returned to the lounges where the musical part of the evening was about to begin.


It was indeed the time to display one's personal talents, as music was always welcome.  There was singing,  mostly well-executed, vocals and countless guitar and harp pieces. These two instruments, the most graceful that a woman can wield, were in full vogue.  People played the harp as they were to play the piano later, that is to say with fury. However, unlike the piano where listeners generally only see the back of the performer, the harpist faces the audience and, whether she plays seated or standing, can highlight the advantages of a graceful figure. The arm and hand are also highlighted, as well as the foot which operates the pedal. Lady Stanhope played magnificently,  and it was truly an exquisite spectacle of this radiant young woman, dressed in this long sheath dress, with a very high waist, called an “empire dress”, plucking the strings of this beautiful golden instrument. so elegant in shape. Everyone applauded her furiously.

Afterwards, she returned to her place, surrounded by more people than ever, and they wanted the rest of her story. “I told you,” she continued, “how, captured by Surcouf, we had been gallantly installed by him in one of the small islands of the Maldives archipelago. We were about to resume our journey, after a night's rest, when we were informed of three new sails on the horizon, and soon, at the distance of a mile, we could recognize the English flag.Surcouf had already seen him and, leaving us a little behind, he rushed towards our compatriots. He was on board the Revenant, and closely followed by the Sainte-Anne, captain of Clavaillan, and finally by the Confiance. Our ships were the corvette Eagle, under Captain George Blackford, the frigate Kent commanded by Commodore John Harris and finally another corvette, the  Queen Elisabeth."

At this moment Lady Stanhope was interrupted. The old lady who had had the names of the sailors repeated to her came forward quickly. Ma'am, Did you not mention George Blackford?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"And what happened to him?"

"He's dead."

"Ah!: said the old lady with a sigh. "He was my cousin." She left with these words, but as she was only slightly affected, she returned to hear what happened next.

“George Blackford,” continued Lady Stanhope, “died in a singular way. As he took up a chaleng to single combat, Monsieur  de Clavaillan attached a stream of yellow ribbons to his sword and, after saluting, shouted to him: 'I have the honor, sir, to give you this souvenir that one of your relatives entrusted to me for you.'  And the sword and the ribbons disappeared into the body of the unfortunate man who fell dead."

"Ah!" said the old lady again, "he would have done better to keep them."

“And you, madam,” said Lady Stanhope, “you would have done better not to entrust them to him."

"It's fair enough," said a young officer, "these French sailors maintain gallantry even when sending you to the other world. Admit, gentlemen, that this is a nice trait of fierce courtesy."

There was a slight shudder in the audience, then a very young man, affecting a cheeky air, asked: “Finally, madame, since you have seen them, these invincible heroes, tell us a little about their person.

“I won’t tell you about Mr. de Clavaillan,” replied the young woman, “since many of you know him.

"Alas!" sighed Lady Blackwood, who had approached, “was it not, in fact, in the middle of a party given in his honor that he fled?"

"But Surcouf?… this famous Surcouf?" asked several voices at once.

The young woman stood up and, after looking around the group of uniforms around her, she said with a smile intended to soften her statement: “You are very good, gentlemen, in His Majesty’s navy, but none of you is as good as Surcouf."

There were expressions of annoyance. Without worrying about it, with that casualness specific to pretty women who know very well that, whatever they say or do, they can count on impunity, Lady Stanhope asserted:“Surcouf, gentlemen, is extremely handsome."

No one noticed this sentence and the question fell by itself without anyone thinking to ask for further information. There was even a moment of embarrassment, a sort of cold current that ran through the audience. People were a little angry with the young woman for her enthusiasm, and some even thought that, for an Englishwoman, she certainly lacked patriotism.

Fortunately, the announcement of supper came as a diversion, and, despite the favor which she did not conceal for enemies, many arms were raised before Lady Stanhope to request the honor of leading her to the table. Embarrassed, she laughed her pretty childish laugh, saying with a little comical expression of helplessness: “However, I cannot give you all my arm!"  But, now forgiven, she was soon rescued by the arrival of the governor himself, who kindly came to escort  her. Everyone bowed and followed her joyfully-- they were all  happy with this outcome.

The table was set on a large veranda decorated with flowers and foliage. The sight of this meeting in which the most brilliant uniforms alternated with the shimmering colors of the women's dresses, where the gold of the braids mingled with the lights of the diamonds and the softer sparkle of the stones, was truly of a magnificent effect. The most rarest dishes and the most heady drinks were served by a veritable army of servants  Soon, under the effect of the champagne, tongues were loosened and the most diverse news circulated around the table. Almost everywhere people talked about France and its emperor. “What an astonishing man and what an admirable genius! cried Lady Stanhope, who never spared words to express her admiration.

"He’s an excessively ambitious man," said an old general.

"Ambition is permissible when it advances the fame  and greatness of one's country", said the fiery young woman again."

"Ambition never excuses certain mistakes."

"What mistakes did he make?"

"He’s a usurper. He only works for himself. His duty was to serve  his government."

"Such a man was not made to obey. He needed complete freedom of action. His government might not have understood this."

"He wastes and ruins his own country." (15_15_1)

"No, he makes it great. Do you know that he has just won another victory, a resounding victory,  at Friedland [June 14, 1807]. The Russians are beaten."

"Europe will become war-weary."

He will enforce his will upon them. (15_15_2)

“Indeed, Lily,” interrupted Lady Blackwood, who feared that her friend's enthusiastic nature would make her go too far, "in truth, Monsieur. Bonaparte has no warmer supporter than you."

The young woman understood her friend's intention. “Dear,” she declared, “as a fervent Englishwoman I hate the Emperor of the French; as a woman, I always pay homage to what is big and strong."

Everyone applauded this.

Then, the subject that had been pushed aside for a moment was brought up again:  “It is said,” continued the old general who had spoken earlier, “that the Emperor’s intention would be to seize Spain."

There was a general explosion." It's impossible ! He wouldn't dare! And for what purpose?"

"Do we know where this man’s thirst for conquest will end? It is even suggested that he would like to place his brother on the throne of Spain."

 "You mean, the King of Naples?"

"Yes, the King of Naples."

"Well ! the Spaniards are brave, he will not defeat them easily. And then, they are served by their land itself. I believe he will leave many men there."

"We ourselves, moreover, will help Spain."

"Is England afraid, gentlemen?" asked Lady Stanhope.

"Madam, this man is a danger to all of Europe, and it is England's duty to fight him by all means."

"Except for unfair means, though?"

“Even those,” the old general continued with fierce energy.

"Oh ! General," cried the young woman, "as much as I love my country, I cannot subscribe to such a policy."

"The morality of a country, madam, is not the same as individual morality. A nation must be big and strong first. She then sees to it being fair."

Lady Stanhope had no time to respond: a piece of news was circulating around the room and seemed to be much discussed.

" What is it ?" asked Lady Blackwood.

“It appears, my lady,” replied a young officer, “that Sir Arthur Wellesley is recalled from India.(15_16_1)

" The brother of the Marquis of Wellesley, the Governor General?"

"Yes, that's the man. Many things are said about his character, and His Majesty would have great confidence in him."

"What do they say?"

"They say that he is a man of great rigidity, impassive, methodical, as hard on himself as on others."

"Could this news be connected with Spain?"

"Naturally, my lady."

“Perhaps he will be entrusted with command of the troops in Spain."

"Perhaps," said the old general thoughtfully, (15_16_12) this is the stumbling block that will bring down the French giants."

The conversation had become so serious that the charming hostess, a little worried about the spirit of her evening, hastened the end of supper in order to change the course of ideas. A few moments later, the same room, cleared of the table and desserts which garnished it, became a marvelous ballroom where officers and ladies swirled as they wished. They danced to the sound of an concealed orchestra made up of harps, guitars, violins and pianos. Suddenly, Lady Stanhope, with that mobility of impression which made her a fanciful creature, disappointing in excess, but always charming, declared that she wanted to make people dance alone, without the help of musicians. A piano was immediately brought in, and she played, with extraordinary brilliance, for nearly an hour, the couples danced to the strains of her  instrument. Always generous, she had asked that the musicians be sent refreshments, declaring that she expected them to take full advantage of this little rest.

  People sometimes stopped to listen and enjoy her playing as a consummate musician. Several times Lady Blackwood had come to ask her not to tire herself; laughing, she sent her away, claiming that if necessary she was now sure of being able to earn a living.  Finally, as she was not accustomed to such an exercise, she ended up getting tired, and, turning the stool quickly, shouted cheerfully: “Who wants to replace me?"

No one cared to do so, and the ball resumed with the orchestra.

“Phew! she said, “this reminds me of my poor pianos."

"What pianos, Lily?"  asked Lady Blackwood.

"Ah! Mary, how clumsy I am, I gave away my secret. Or rather, no, I haven't said anything yet; forget it, Mary, and perhaps one day you will have the key to the mystery."

"But of course the word 'mystery' did  note slake her friend's curiosity."

“Please, Lily, since you have begun, complete the confidence. It’s always so funny what you have to say."

Lady Stanhope smiled, overcome by her weak side, but determined to fight a little.: “No Mary, don’t insist, you would deprive me of a great pleasure."

And you, me, dear. You will be the cause that I will waste away, because a repressed curiosity makes me so ill."

Those around the two friends joined Lady Blackwood in begging her to speak.

“Even if it’s to destroy a surprise?"

"Yes, yes, yes, they  shouted."

"Even if this surprise was intended for you, Mary?"


Lady Blackwood hesitated. However, the desire to know was the strongest. “Even if this surprise was intended for me."

"Well ! too bad for you, cried the young woman quickly. Only, I warn you that we must talk about Surcouf again.

Let’s talk about  Surcouf, they all said in unison."

"So here’s what it’s about: I know how much you love the piano; I know, on the other hand, that it is not easy for you to get a really good one here, and I promised to bring you one. Also, some time before my departure from England, I treated myself to a little trip to France to try some. Ah! dear, you cannot imagine with what perfection these French people construct these instruments. I saw quantities of them, and in each store, I wanted to buy them all. I didn't do anything about it, don't worry. However, one day, I found two even better than the others and I had them reserved for myself... One was intended for you, the other was for me."


Lady Blackwood threw her arms around her friend:  " Oh ! Lily, how nice of you to have put so much zeal into giving me such pleasure! But how difficult it is to transport them! Really, nothing can stop you and I recognize you there."

"Alas! Mary, don't thank me yet. I don't know if I will ever be able to give you this memory."

"Why is that ?"

"Because I no longer have the pianos. You spoke of difficulties; I thought I had them all planned out. The pianos, huge grand pianos, had traveled wrapped in blankets like little children, and I myself went to check on them from time to time. Everything was going well and I had reason to hope that they had suffered no harm when, having been captured by Surcouf, the entire cargo of the convoy fell into his hands."

" Ah! my poor Lily, cried the governor’s wife, quite sad; I thank you no less, but, alas! your piano is lost as well as  mine."

"No, I still hope to get  them."

"What do you mean ?"

"Surcouf, who saw my pain, took great pity on it, and in his harsh sailor's voice accustomed to commands, which he softened for me, he said to me: 'Madam, I give you my word of honor that I will do everything possible to have your pianos and I will come and bring them back to you in person.'"

“That,” cried Lady Blackwood, “is precisely what I had asked Monsieur de Clavaillan for."

There was a smile of disbelief on everyone's lips and even a few quickly suppressed laughter, then someone ventured to say: “Ah! Madam, it is better for you not to think about your pianos anymore, because the word of a privateer can have no value."

"And I, gentlemen, believe that Surcouf’s word is worth that of the proudest gentleman among you. I therefore remain convinced that this privateer, unless this is impossible on his part, will return my pianos to me."

“I want to keep my hope alive too,” said Lady Blackwood with a sigh of regret.

---

At that moment a loud noise was heard coming from the garden. It was announced that three new ships were in sight and were approaching land under full sail.

“Are these warships?" asked the governor.

No one knew  how to answer him, because they could not yet distinguish either their shape or their nationality.

“What if we went to the port?" suggested Lady Stanhope.

“That’s it, let’s go to the port,” supported the other young women who were only asking to satisfy their curiosity.

Despite the token objections made by the male guests, who were just as eager as the female clan to know what was going on, there was a real push towards the cloakroom. And soon all the pretty heads, all the shivering shoulders, disappeared under mantles, hoods, mantillas, and in procession, Lady Stanhope at the head, the governor's guests, delighted by this original incident, took the path to the port.

It was almost dawn, and this parade was through akind if eerie light.  But, when they arrived, they could clearly see, a couple of miles away, outside of cannon range, three motionless ships which silhouetted, in the very pale blue of the sky, the fine silhouette of their hull and their sails which a maneuver was gently moving.

“These are Surcouf’s ships! cried Lady Stanhope in astonishment."

"Are you sure of that, my lady?" asked the governor.

"Certainly. I recognize them perfectly now. The one in the middle is the Revenant, on the right is Sainte-Anne, on the left is Confiance."

"Why do they come to Madras?" someone asked.

"Surcouf, without a doubt, wants to take advantage of a truce, in order to communicate with the land."

 "Indeed, they raised the white flag."

"However, they remain at a respectable distance."

"It’s because they can’t advance any further, Madras has a natural defense. Its shore is surrounded by changing seabed into which a ship of a certain tonnage cannot venture without danger. And Surcouf, as a consummate sailor, is not unaware of this particularity."

While people were chatting in the port and the governor's guests were making a thousand guesses about this unexpected arrival of the famous corsair, there was,visible from the shore, an unusual movement on board one of the ships. The sailors seemed to be hoising  two enormous parcels onto the deck, and then two longboats were launched into the sea. It was then the turn of a large flat "lighter," a sort of raft with high sides to prevent the small offshore waves from penetrating inside. Then this lighter was moored against the side of the ship, and the two large packages were lowered into it by block-and-tackle. When this was done, , the two longboatd hitched themself to the lighter,  and headed for the shore.

And among the elegant gathering who witnessed this strange landing, curiosity had reached the highest level.

"What does that mean ?" they  asked themselves step by step. The governor even seemed a little worried. Didn't this arrival of the French, dragging this mysterious barge in their wake, hide some trap? Everyone knew they had a mind fertile in tricks, and they knew Surcouf's deep hatred for everything English.  Was Surcouf  going to take advantage of this truce, of the ease with which he entered the port to prepare some disastrous surprise, and this in defiance of all the laws of war? The governor could not control his confusion and let slip a few words which revealed his fears.

Lady Stanhope was immediately moved, courageously noting his observation: “Hey! what, sir, would you suspect these men of such an act of dishonor?"

"Madam," replied the governor, a little annoyed by the suggestion, " they might not consider such an action dishonorable."

"Oh ! This is an impossible thing and one that cannot be conceived without their having vile souls. This is not the case, sir, with Surcouf and his companions, and I, Lady Stanhope, stand confidently as guarantor of their honor."

These words made a certain impression on those present, and Lady Blackwood exclaimed, threatening her friend with a finger:
“Ah! dear, always the same enthusiasm for these French people!"

"Yes, replied the young woman seriously, and I can judge them all the better because I have been better able to know them."

The boats were now only a few yards from the shore. Soon they landed. The boat crews  quickly jumped onto the sand and dragged the two boats up out of the water; and then, all but three of them, began hauling the lighter ashore. When the when the ligher's bow had gently grounded in the sand, these same sailors, jumping inside, set about unloading it. A little distant and sheltered behind a balustrade, the governor's guests were able to see without being seen. It was only when twelve  sailors, carrying, on their shoulders, the two strangely shaped parcels which only Lady Stanhope began to recognize, three men on each side of each parcel, set out, preceded by three men who must have been the leaders and followed by another sailor carrying a bulky package, that the governor, surrounded by his wife, Lady Stanhope and all the guests, advanced to meet them.

The arriving strangers seemed astonished  at this crowd of men in full uniform or in ceremonial dress and women in silk dresses with trains spread out on the sand and whose clothes, with which they had wrapped themselves, did not manage to conceal low neckline shoulders and the shine of jewelry. For their part, the English stared eagerly at these three men before them, and on whose faces, thanks to Lady Stanhope's story, they had been able to put names.

One of them, the largest, whom many recognized, was Jacques de Clavaillan. The young marquis, who had preserved his fine aristocratic features and this expression of the eyes that was both bold and frank, which was emphasized by his long Gallic mustache, had further developed during this last journey, and it was not without a certain respect that the young English officers, many of whom were very handsome men, contemplated this athletic build.

In this adolescent, almost a man already, everyone recognized Guillaume Ternant, the little Breton cabin boy, at whose request Lady Stanhope had left her friends to go and console her mother and sister. (#16#7)

Finally there was Surcouf himself. And the brilliant assembly watching him is forced to admit that  Lady Stanhope had not exaggerated anything. Without being as tall as Clavaillan, he was tall and perfectly elegant, with regular features are, and his whole person exuded strength. What struck one first about him was his look. His eyes, slightly sunken below the brow bone, shone with intense fire. These were indeed the eyes of this horizon searcher, eagle eyes, which always distinguished the enemy before the rest of his crew. With those eyes alone, he couldn't go unnoticed, but everything else was to match. The slightly hooked nose had a very fine bridge, the mouth was perfectly shaped, and the fairly accentuated chin helped to give this man's mask a particularly energetic character.

At first surprised by the sight of all these people, he quickly recovered. And with that amiable ease which is one of the prerogatives of the French nation and which never abandons it, he greeted the governor and the ladies.But Lady Stanhope had already come forward, and she held out her little hand, on which the sailor bent to place his lips with respectful grace. “Admit, Mr. Surcouf, that you did not expect such a reception,” the charming woman laughingly exclaimed.

"No, madame, certainly not, but you see me infinitely happy about it. At least all these gentlemen will be able to affirm that the privateer Surcouf is a man of his word and honor."

 There was a moment of curiosity at these words, and the sailor made a sign to his men who had remained at a short distance, they  came forward laden with their large packages. “Madame,” Surcouf continued, “you have undoubtedly not forgotten the promise I made to you when we separated. This promise, I came close to being able to only half keep it. In the part of the loot which fell to me at the time of division, I received one of your pianos, but the other fell into the hands of the taxman, in the person of the commissioner. It was not without difficulty that I convinced him to give it to me. Finally I have them both and I have the honor to bring them to you."

These words were greeted with a tremendous cheer. The men shouted, the women clapped their hands, and they all gave our sailors a real ovation.The governor came forward to shake the hand of the valiant Surcouf and his companions. Lady Blackwood, enthusiastic, did the same. As for Lady Stanhope, she was exultant, and her eyes and her smile clearly said: “You see that I didn’t exaggerate anything. I knew very well that they were perfect gentlemen."

However, they  could not stay in the port all day. At the invitation of the governor, everyone returned to the palace, where an impromptu lunch, a sort of banquet in honor of the French, was offered to Surcouf, Clavaillan, Guillaume and all the guests of the night, during which  the sailors were attentively waited upon  by the servants.
“What a shame,” cried the old general suddenly, “to think that, as soon as the truce is over, you will once again become our most bitter enemy."

Surcouf smiled: “Whatever, general, we will behave  like children, who are never more friends than when they have had a splendid brawl."

There was applause at this joke, and the governor, raising his glass, exclaimed: “I accept the omen, Commander, and I drink to the definitive peace which will unite our two great homelands."

This toast was warmly received by the entire assembly. las! no one then suspected the terrible events that were brewing in Europe... And how the dazzling sun of the French empire, after having dazzled the neighboring lions with its rays, was going to sink into a terrible catastrophe. But, thank God, we are not given to know the future, and while all these young officers were happily clinking their glasses, none of them foresaw that the merciless war was going to make wide gaps among these very people.  Surcouf, celebrated by everyone, but mainly by Lady Stanhope and Lady Blackwood, both of whom were delighted to have their pianos, agreed to spend two days on land. As for Clavaillan and Will, despite the same invitation, they left that  same day for Ootacamund. No one was  surprised at this, but Lady Stanhope alone thought that a certain young girl's heart would probably beat a hasty charge at the arrival of the two young people.  She was not mistaken, and Madame Ternant, who had been in on her daughter's secret for a long time, had no difficulty in understanding to whom part of the effusions that Anne lavished on her brother went. Jacques de Clavaillan perhaps noticed this too. Will, alone, was blind, and in the best faith in the world kept his sister's tender caresses for himself alone.
....................

Several years had passed.

Mrs. Ternant and Anne no longer lived in Ootacamund.  They had  left India abruptly a few days after the arrival of the two young men  in Madras. Surcouf having offered to repatriate them, the poor mother, who no longer felt the courage to part with her son, resolved to accompany him and accepted this offer. It was also necessary for him to return to France to complete his studies and prepare for the Naval Academy towards which his ambition directed him.

As for Anne, it is useless to say whether the prospect of seeing France again, combined with that of a trip in such company, was made to please her. So she welcomed the trip with real joy.
However, the departure did not take place without some emotion.  You don't leave a country that was welcoming to you, a house where you cried and prayed, where you were also happy, without a pang of heart. At the moment of saying goodbye perhaps forever to this roof which had sheltered them for so long, to this garden in which Madame Ternant had wandered her melancholy and Anne her youthful dreams, to these servants who were devoted to them and who cried, tears escaped from their eyes.

“Goodbye,” said Anne, who was young.

“Farewell,” said her mother, who never tired of looking at the smiling hermitage that they both loved so much, to bring it more vividly into her memory.  Clavaillan and Will, who had initially witnessed, very moved, the spectacle of their grief, had to intervene to persuade them to leave. One last look, one last goodbye gesture, and suddenly, at a bend in the road, everything disappeared. The carriage was now driving towards the home of the Irishman and his family. Oh ! this road, how many times had they traveled it on foot or by carriage, to go to their friends. And now Anne, who had done this horseback ride so many times, accompanied by Fred or Alick, or even by Cécil, relived the remembered  famous day when the eldest O'Donovan, in a moment of bad humor, told herhad  said: “You were just a little girl, he wanted to make fun of you."


He hadn't been making  fun. He had come back. And now he was going to take  her back to France. Anne knew very well that she was  still too young to get married, but she had no doubt that it would happen one day; and she was  determined to wait patiently for that day.

The separation from their friends was even crueler, more heartbreaking. They all loved, the father, the mother and the six boys, these two French women, who brought to their home so much grace, charm, sweet intimacy and sometimes enthusiasm.
The Irish woman and her husband mourned the friend whom they had so often consoled and who was so deeply attached to them; they also mourned Anne, who illuminated their home with her girlish prettiness.

They, who only had sons, loved to contemplate Anne's elegant and fine figure, to caress her jet-black curls, to hear her crystalline laughter vibrating in the house where only the somewhat rough organs of the six boys never resonated. As for the boys, putting aside any hint of stoicism, they cried quite frankly. Fred especially showed real despair. Alick, the only one who contained himself a little,  cast a dark and desolate look on the young girl's pretty face, all flooded with tears.

“We will see each other again, I promise you that we will see each other again,” Anne said to console them and to console herself… "Will you come to Europe?

And as they seemed to say that there was little probability of that, she added: " Well ! we are the ones who will come back.'

At the same time, she sought approval from her own people. “Yes, we will come back, Miss Anne,” Clavaillan said with confidence. Anne thanked him with a look and felt completely consoled.

The journey passed without accidents, but not without incidents, which would have been quite extraordinary given the troubled times they were going through.

Finally they arrived in Brest, and the image of India, which had remained brilliant and so dear throughout the crossing, suddenly paled in front of the native shore. Oh ! the sweetness of seeing one's country again after a long absence, as everyone enjoyed when the lookout signaled land. And with what religious emotion they found themselves on the soil of their beloved Brittany! Certainly, there they had found an easy life in India, a generous climate, devoted friends, but they had never felt certain fibers of their hearts vibrate as they did now.

With delight they inhaled the air of the homeland, and Madame Ternant would have gladly kissed all the Breton women she met.
It was in Brest itself that the Ternant family settled. Will soon had to leave his mother and sister to continue his interrupted studies at a college. Clavaillan returned to sea, following Surcouf.


Alone again, Madame Ternant and her daughter lived the retired domestic life they had led in India, waiting for events to reunite them again with those they loved. And now, events rushed forward. The fatal year of one thousand eight hundred and fifteen was  nearing its end. The French empire no longer existed. The eagles fell at Waterloo, defeated by fate. Europe, oppressed for so long, is breathing. The genius that had compressed it was now reduced to impotence.  Napoleon came up against the stumbling block that God, rather than men, had placed in his path.

And this stone, as the old general had almost prophesied, in the evening given in Madras in honor of a pretty woman, this stone happened to be precisely this Sir Arthur Wellesley, brother of the marquis of the same name, this youngest of the family whose glory now surpasses that of his elders and ancestors and who triumphantly bore the title of Duke of Wellington.

The Emperor, who entrusted himself to his fiercest enemies, to these Englishmen whom he could not defeat, would see his trust cruelly disappointed. Not only did England not have for him the respect that one owes to a defeated and defenseless enemy, but without pity for this fallen greatness, without respect for this captive who had given himself up, it will treat him with such  ruthlessness, with such  closeness of surveillance which would  destroy all energy in him, and which in a few years would open the doors of the tomb for him.

Mrs. Ternant and Anne followed the course of events with anguish, and the day finally came for the young girl when her dream would come true. Since the morning, Brest Cathedral had been ringing the air with its most joyful carillons,announcing  a marriage. 

All around Madame Ternant's house, there was an indescribable coming and going. Neighbors and passers-by wanted to see the young bride who is said to be so beautiful. And then the uniforms coming in and out were no surprise. Everyone knew that Ane's fiancé had served under the orders of Surcouf, and that the famous corsair had promised to assist his second-in-command as a witness. And everyone wanted to meet  him.

But then the door opened wide and Anne, radiant in her white dress, gave her arm to   a young man wearing a royal navy uniform. It was Will, Surcouf's little apprentice. He had passed his admission exams to the Naval Academy brilliantly and graduuated in first place. came out top. He had even made his first trip, and on his sleeves the stripes of an ensign  shone. The future had kept the promises of the past.

---

(1_1) Mousse is a modern French naval rank, corresponding to Seaman-Recruit, or Seaman-Apprentice. At that date, there was not a very clear distinction between the ranks of  very low ranking future officers and very low-ranking career enlisted men. A "cabin-boy" might be a future admiral, it simply meant that he had been recruited by the captain, rather than by a government department. In such a case, the officers might well teach the cabin boy celestial navigation and similar arts.

(1_1a) Authors:

https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Maël

https://www.worldswithoutend.com/author.asp?ID=3047

(1_2) “Rouges.” Given the date, Reds, meaning communists, would have been such a recent coinage that the author would have been unlikely to use it in writing about events a hundred years earlier, and what would communists be doing at sea in a big fighting ship anyway? So I decided that it must be a colloquial reference to the British navy’s Red Ensign, a Union Jack quartered on a red flag, and I substituted a suitable English colloquial expression, “Jack Tars,”which sounded more appropriate than “His Britainic Majesty’s Royal Navy.”

(1_3) The Spanish Vice-Regality of La Plata was in effect, "Greater Argentina," with its capital at Buenos Aires, and including all Spanish territory south of Brazil (Portugese), and east of the Andes Mountains.

(1_4) I render "petit fortune," literally "small fortune" as substantial nest-egg. The sort of sum which would finance transatlantic emigration was generally considered worth an indenture, that is, seven years service, similar to a trade apprenticeship, say a years income for a working man. A substantial fraction of the Bretagne's passengers would have been going out to Argentina as indentured servants, to be sold to Argentinians. Dr. Ternant's "petty fortune" eventually proves sufficient to pay for ship passage, and buy a comparatively modest house in rural India, run by servants, with no indication of the English having stolen any part of it. As it develops in the next chapter, the house is the more or less standard "landlord's homestead," that is, vacant land given free by the government in exchange for cultivating it, but not including a grant of servants, or the right to collect taxes. The recipient would have to find his own working capital to set up as a landlord-farmer. If Doctor Ternant has lived, this would have been ample to support him while he was developing a medical practice. Surcouf eventually contrives to send the widow £1600 Sterling (40,000 Francs), which, considered as capital, would yield about £80/year By comparison, George III had given Dr. Samuel Johnson a pension of £300 per annum, effectively buying himself a literary lion, who could be relied upon to forcefully oppose American Independence.

   
  (1_5) Not strictly true, Portugal was very determinedly
neutral at the time. It simply refused to go war with England; and continued to trade with England, creating a gap in Napoleon's "Continental System" of trade barriers; and even allowed English warships to enter its ports.

In 1801, in the "War of the Oranges," France and Spain coerced Portugal to cease trading with the English, but of course this prohibition  expired with the Peace of Amiens in 1802.

In concert with the Spanish, the French invaded Portugal on November, 12 1807, and the Portugese Royal Family and court, to the extent of ten thousand persons, fled, on November 27,  1807, to Brazil, along with the Portuguese. navy.

Shortly afterwards, the French carried out a "coup-de-etat by increments," in Spain, using the large number of Frenh troops who had been been brought in, and this esulted in the popular uprising of Mar 2, 1808, and the ensuing guerrilla war. .

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Portugal_1777-1834

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anglo-Portuguese_Alliance

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invasion_of_Portugal_1807

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transfer_of_the_Portuguese_court_to_Brazil

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dos_de_Mayo_Uprising

But allow the Frenchman his point of view.

(1_6) A Sloop-of-War (Corvette in French) was not typically a commerce raider, being used more for inshore work as an auxiliary of larger ships. The term "Corvette" literally means "customs ship," that is, a vessel suited to pursuing smugglers. Commerce raiding was usually done by a bigger ship, a Frigate, in modern terms, a cruiser, big enough to detach multiple prize crews and still go on functioning.

(1_7) "Mers de la Chine," Indian Ocean.

(1_7a) Mauritius -- then a french possession  called Ille de France. Its use here is an anacronism, an anachronism, for which I have substituted Capetown, Cape of Good Hope.

(1_8) I render "Pontoon" as Prison Hulk. A hulk was a worn-out ship,one whose wood had rotted sufficiently as no longer to be able to take the strain of the sea. A wood ship was good for about ten years at sea. When ships were mothballed, or "put in ordinary," they were hauled up on dry land. However, once a ship had had it's ten years at sea, it  would be docked in harbor, stripped of its masts, rigging, sails, and armaments; and  converted into a sort of floating building. It would, however, retain its bell, and its name. To this day, shore establishments of the Royal Navy are named as if they were ships. A hulk could be a barracks, or a hospital, or a warehouse-- or a prison. Naval prisoners of war would probably  be employed on a chain gang, and eventually be used as replacement sailors on British ships, distributed out in small enough numbers that they could not hope to capture these ships, and, on reaching England, be transferred to the naval prison at Dartmoor.

See: Samuel Robinson, (1786-1875), A Sailor Boy's Experience Aboard a Slave Ship, (Originally published as: A sailor boy's experience aboard a slave ship in the beginning of the present century, Hamilton, 1867)

A memoir of a cabin-boy on a slave ship, circa 1800-1804. Describes having English Sailors "pressed" into the Royal Navy in the West Indies, and filling up the crew with French sailors from a military prison (POW camp) for th voyage home, as part of a convoy escorted by warships.
  
https://archive.org/details/ASailorBoysExperience/page/n121/mode/2up

(1_9) 'God-Damms' a French idiom for Englishmen. Frenchmen were struck by the extent to which Englishmen swore. See, for example, the famous passage in Beaumarchais's _Marriage of Figaro_.

(1_10) French "corne" [lit "horn, "nautical] is "masthead."

(1_10a) vers le pont. This caused me a certain amount of confusion, but looking "pont" up in the  Larousse Advanced Dictionary (~2500 pp.), I discovered that "pont" can mean a bridge in the English sense of the word, but it can also mean  a ship's deck, with various modifications: pont superior -- main deck; pont inferior-- lower deck; pont-avant-- fore-deck; and pont-arriere- aft-deck, or quarter-deck. A sailing ship, such as the Bretagne, would have had an elevated quarterdeck, atop the officer's quarters, and those of the more favored passengers, from which height the captain commanded the ship; and an elevated fore-deck, the roof of the forecastle, which formed  the crew's quarters.

A related word, "passerelle," can mean: a footbridge; a theatrical catwalk; or, at sea,  a gang-plank, a gangway, or [passerelle de command] a ship's bridge.

Ship bridges, in the modern English sense of he word date from the introduction of the steamship. The first steamships were paddle-wheelers, and there was literally a bridge between the two paddle-wheel housings, perhaps twenty feet above the deck. The engine was, of course, located between the paddle-wheels, and the bridge, above, became the logical place for the captain to take his stance, the steering wheel being relocated there as well. The officers' accommodation was eventually built beneath the bridge. This arrangement persisted when steamships switched from paddles to propellers, a tunnel at the bottom of the hold being provided for the propeller shaft. Unlike a quarterdeck, a bridge did not have room for any appreciable fraction of a ship's company.

Some of the last sailing ships had what was known as a "monkey bridge," again a literal foot-bridge running from the quarterdeck to the forecastle, via the roofs of any intervening deck-houses, which enabled people to get back and forth even when the deck was awash with water. These are still seen in certain kinds of very large ships, notably oil-tankers, which ride very low in the water when fully laden.

(1_11) "dedoubler" can mean fold over, or divide. Althiugh a verb, it's one of those fundamentally ambiguous words which translate like a preposition.

(1_12) A brig is a two-masted sailing ship, rather than the standard three masts.

(1_12a) Clarisse.

Per Wikipedia, a 14 gun brig (not 16 guns, and not ship-rigged), in which Surcouf departed from Nantes in February 1798, and operated from Ille de France, to which it returned in early February 1800.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Surcouf#Cruise_of_Clarisse

(1_12b) Robert Surcouf

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Surcouf

(1_13) "crane-marin" is literally sea-skull. However, I have rendered it as Sea-hawk, vide Rafael Sabbatini and Errol Flynn.

(1_14) Probable disposition of the captives. The non-sailor captives landed at Cape Town would have been those who could be sold on to Dutch farmers (Afrikaners). This would have meant vineyard and orchard workers. The least valuable captives would have been sent to Argentina. As England was at war with Spain, it would have been tricky enough to put them ashore without exposing the ship to capture, and quite impossible to negotiate a sale. So people who had gone out under indentures would find themselves free in Argentina. The third group was sent on to India. India, unlike South Africa, or, for that matter, New South Wales (Australia), had sizable cities, where someone like Dr. Ternant could have been appropriately employed. At least, that would have been the Royal Navy's reasoning. However, the East India Company might have seen things rather differently. Inland were the kingdoms of powerful native princes, some of whom were employing French "advisers," (notably Tipoo Sahib of Mysore, decisively defeated on May 4, 1799, Longford, _Wellington_, below, p. 55 et. seq.) and a Frenchmen could be a security risk, simply on account of the possibility that he might make contact with other such princes.

(1_14a) There are two leading cases, that of the Newfoundland Dog Duel in England, and the other in France, in Napoleon's army.

The duel between (English Royal Navy) Captain James Macnamara and Army Colonel  Robert Montgomery, in 1803, growing out of an altercation between their respective Newfoundland dogs. Macnamara was found not guilty by a jury, after explaining to the jury how it would have been impossible for him to back down. It was understood, however, that he wasn't going to make a habit of that kind of thing.

https://www.geriwalton.com/newfoundland-dog-due/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/James_Macnamara

A contemporary popular account.

https://www.pascalbonenfant.com/18c/newgatecalendar/captain_macnamara.html

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Francois_Fournier-Sarloveze


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pierre_Dupont_de_l'Etang

https://historicalfencer.com/the-real-men-behind-the-duellist/


Joseph Conrad’s “The Duel: A Military Tale,” in _A Set of Six_

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Duel_short_story


https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2305/2305-h/2305-h.htm#link2H_4_0007

in:

https://www.gutenberg.org/files/2305/2305-h/2305-h.htm

(1_15) Indian Servant Girl "Ayah" is understood in British English to mean a nursemaid. The caste distinctions were rather more absolute in India than in Europe, because English rule was superimposed on what was already a hierarchical social structure. Europeans who would have employed peasant girls in Europe to clean their houses, or cook their dinners, in India employed low-caste men, the archetype being Kipling's Gunga Din. A woman would be employed where one was specicicaly required, as a nursemaid or prostitute. I should think that even for a ladies-maid, an Indian girl would have been of problematic usefulness. The types of clothing were simply so different, unless an english lady chose to "go native," to the extent of wearing saris.

(1_16) My analogy.

(2_1) Gouvernement de la Métropole-- I render it as in fact the East India Company, colloquially refereed to as "John Company," which was an independent corporate body, with  a royal charter.

(2_1a) Drogheda, Battle of the Boyne, Boyne, General Humbert

Mael slightly mangles Irish history, conflating Drogheda with the battle of the Boyne.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/History_of_Ireland

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siege_of_Drogheda

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Williamite_war_in_Ireland

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_the_Boyne

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_Rebellion_of_1798

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Irish_Rebellion_of_1798#French_epilogue
--------------------
 
(2_2) Peace of Amiens--- Signed March 25, 1802, with five months deadlne for return of prizes in the Indian Ocean, and six month for carrying out all terms: that is, August 25, 1802 and September 25, 1802. Britain broke off diplomatic relations, May 13, 1801, and commenced hostilities May 17. Word would have reach India some time around September to November.
The Wikipedia article,

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Amiens

refers to an 1803 English reoccupation of the cape colony, which had been returned to the Dutch. However, Hooker, below, dates the reoccupation of the Cape colony to 1806. The 1803 reoccupation may have been confined to the port,


LE ROY HOOKER, _The Africanders:A CENTURY OF DUTCH-ENGLISH FEUD IN SOUTH AFRICA, Chicago and New York:
RAND, McNALLY & CO., PUBLISHERS., MDCCCC.

https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/71707/pg71707-images.html

For dramatic purposes, the authors extend the peace to approximately 1805.

(2_3) Deer-Pigs In fact, found in the eastern portions of the Indonesian Arcgipelago, not in India.

http://darrennaish.blogspot.com/2006/08/deer-pig-raksasa-only-living.html

(2_4) Kouroukous-- unresolved reference-- some kind of bird-- -- kouroukou, or phonetically similar words seem to turn up as surnames or place names in various parts of French West Africa. Of course, a surname is, as often as not, the name of the place a person came from, and it migh be modified by the French particle of belonging, "-ois." My student,  John Christian Adams II, points out that there is a locality in French Gutana, Korokou, approximately opposite Devil's Island.

(2_4a) Fusile-- at this date a flintlock musket. The word was eventually "re-appropriated" for anything us to an assault rifle.  In the late seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, it had been used to refer to a flintlock musket as distinct from a matchlock musket.

(2_5) Babourchi-- Babu -- a servant, but a servant of a certain standing (say, a goverment clerk), typically a Bengali, not a common peasant (Sudra caste), who would have been a Ryot. Someone who might be a member of the Vaisha, or merchant,  caste (Varna), or even a Brahman, a hereditary priest, though probably not a Kysatra, a member of the warrior caste.


ayant blanchi; ayant-- gerund of avoir-- have; blanchi-- past participlt of blanchir-- whiten, bleach

(3-1a) Longford, _Wellington_, below, p. p. 73, gives an example of an overland dispatch from London, written October 6, 1800, and recieved in India at the end of January 1801, that is, about four months. And that, of course, depended on the Turks being willing to forward it.

(3-1b) Oxford and Cabridge rowing--- an anachronism-- At this date, rowing was very much a working-class activiy, and the premier English rowing event was Dogget's coat and badge, a race between newly qualified journeymen boatmen.

(3-2) challoupe-- fishing dory

(3-2a) per Larousse, pont can mean deck. mobile can mean removable. I render  "pont mobile à l’arrière' as a light raised removable after-deck, more or less like an elephant's howdah, supported on posts. Not being part of the boat,s permanent structure, it would be likely to be carried away in a storm. The absence of any enclosed space built into the hull, would explain the amount of gear the adventurers loose over the side during the storm. Compare wih Sir Francis Chichester's account of being upset in Gypsy Moth. Everything was jumbled together in the cabin, but nothing was actually lost. A lot of the canned food lost its labels, so he had to eat surprise meals, but that was merely an annoyance.

Formant Mufle-- I render this as "a carved tiger's head mounted on the prow." This is India, after all, and not East Africa.  More or less in the spiri of a Viking dragon-ship...

https://www.dictionnaire-academie.fr/article/A9M3105


"Nom donné à l’extrémité du museau de certains mammifères (carnassiers, rongeurs et surtout ruminants), qui est dépourvue de poils, humide, et autour de laquelle poussent de longs poils raides, ou vibrisses. Un mufle de tigre...  Par extension. Ornement de sculpture qui représente un mufle d’animal, le plus souvent celui du lion ou du tigre."

(3-2b) pitchoun-- little one, I render it as "sonny."

(3-3) Map Kagn, whore-son, apparently more or less mangled Breton

http://devri.bzh/dictionnaire/g/gagn-2/

http://devri.bzh/

(3-4) on the parrot bars--- in the crow's nest

(3-5) navaja--sailor's rigging knife, a knife designed for forcing apart knots in heavy wet ropes, nd even for separating the strands of ropes in order to splice them, sometimes called a marlinspike in english.

(3-6) Clavaillan would presumably have left his "bush kit" with his crew, and taken only his "presentable clothes" to the Governor's palace. Likewise, he would have left behind his musket, pistols, etc., which might have occasioned misunderstandings at the palace.

(4-1) garçons ! “Le(4-1)t's go, boys!" French idiom, per Larousse

(4-2) I dont think they had cigarette lighters back then. However, fire ws much more ubiquitous, as it was the sole source of illumination. The way to light a pipe would be with  lantern, a candlestick, etc. of course, the world back then was much darker at night, and the danger of smoking where one wasn't supposed to be, correspondingly greater.  I think he would probably have chewed some tobacco instead

(4-3) per Larousse, Enlever, remove;La tente, lit. the tent, the boat-cover.
(5_3_1) simplified construction, also "give oneself to" has a sexual connotation in English.

(5_4_1) grève de salut , a safe beach


froler, to brush; gui, lit. mistletoe, but also naut. boom; babord, left, or port

(5_6_1) He would need a compass for direction, sextant or octant to get the latitude, and a chronometer and a book of tables to get the longitude.


pruneaux--- (naut) lead or shot.

(5_7_2) Atonie- English Atony-- archaic medical term, refering to a state in which the reflexes no longer function, per webster's collegiate dictionary.

(6_2_1) cuivre can mean copper, or it can mean brass, or, presumably, bronze. Cannons were made out of either bronze or iron, brass being used only for very small ones. Also, cannonballs were not stored piled up at sea, because they wouly obviously tumble over when the ship rolled. They were stored in "shot lockers," nailed to the deck to secure them in place.
culasse-- gun breech, or cylinder head
cylindres-- barrels

(6_2_2) Alllonger-- lie down, among other things

(6_3_1)This would have been a bunk built into the ship, with a locker underneath. Sailors slept in hammocks for the very good reason that when the ship rolled, the hammocks did not. Even someone with a room of his own, and the prerogative of built-in furniture might sling a hammock in rough weather.

(6_5_1) coloquinte -- per larousse, colocynth, sometimes called bitter apple per wikipedia; per larousse, colloquially, a "nut."

(6_6_1) (corvette-- would be applied inappropriately to a ship of  thirty guns, distributed over a deck and a half, which would be considered a frigate). In any event, per Wikipedia, Confience is described as  an 18--24--gun brig or corvette, 491 tons, three-masted, and square-rigged, but with a single gun deck, the main deck. Another example of Pierre Mael's persistent tendency to exaggerate the size and armament of ships. Surcouf took command at Ille de France in early 1800, eventuality arriving back in France on 13 April 1801.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Robert_Surcouf#Cruise_of_Confiance_and_capture_of_Kent

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Confiance_%281797_ship%29

(6_6_2) orlop deck (where the ship's hospital was located)

(7_1_1) faire connaître-- to make known

(7_1_2) preux -- gallant, bold fellow, both per Larousse

(7_1_3) Napoleon Emperor December 3, 1804

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_of_the_French

(7_1_4) treaty of Amiens--March 25, 1802-May 18, 1803, allowed five months delay for global enforcement, that is, from August 25,1802. The date of resumption of war in the Indian Ocean would be more uncertain, with neither side obliged to inform the enemy that they were at war again. Somewhere between August and October, 1803.

(7_1_5) presser can also mean rush, accelerate,  per Larousse

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Treaty_of_Amiens

(7_2_1) avec une couronne d’or, ie with a layer of gold-foil applied on top of the melted wax, before stamping, as might be done ofr large grants of  or commissions to high offices.

Here is another anachronism, as the English did not take possession of either Ille De France (Mauritus) or Ille De Bourbon (Reunion) until 1810, by which time Surcouf had eft the Indian Ocean for good. So I have substituted Ille De France for Reunion, and Madras for Mauritus.

(7_4_1) Actual vital statistics of  Revenant: displacement, 300-400 tons (different systems of measurement); length 36 meters; beam 9 meters; armament-- ["French service: 14 × 32-pounder carronades + 6 × 8-pounder long guns, British service: 16 × 32-pounder carronades + 2 × 6-pounder bow chaser long guns"]

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/French_corvette_Revenant

In 1807, steel was not available in large quantities, this being before the Bessemer Converter. Things like swords were mode out of steel, but cannons were made out of cast/wrought iron or cast brass/bronze. Revenent had copper plating, but this was ot armor in the modern sense, but merely a thin layer to prevent the ship from being eaten by the marine borer, or teredo worm. A thick growth of teredo worms could increase a ship's hydrualic drag, and impair its sailing qualities. Modern iron/steel ships were eventually fittd with zinc "sacrifice anodes" to prevent rusting/corrosion in salt water.

Note also that Revenant was built in St. Malo, in Brittany in 1807, not in the Indian Ocean. There would probably have been practical difficulties in finding sufficient timber, escecially as the shipwrights would be accustomed to working with temperate-zone species, such as oak and pine. The ship was requisitioned for the French navy in July 1808, and promptly captured by the English (October 1808), recaptured by the French in November 1809, and finally included in the capture of Ille de France (Mauritus) in 1810. Ille de Bourbon (Reunion) was also captured in 1810, but restored to France at the peace.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Réunion

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Isle_de_France_(Mauritius)

The erroneous matter may be an interpolation in the posthumous 1925 edition.

A more or less typical frigate, attached to a squadron of ships of the line for scouting duties.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Phoebe_(1795)

A more or less typical 3rd rater (74) ship of the line:

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Defiance_(1783)

HMS Victory (1758-Present)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Victory

Two "Pocket Battleships"

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Indefatigable_(1784)

Tons burthen    1384 tons, 49  m L X 13.5 m W X 4 m Hold Depth


    "Gundeck: 26 × 24-pounder guns
    QD: 8 × 12-pounder guns + 4 × 42-pounder carronades
    Fc: 4 × 12-pounder guns + 2 × 42-pounder carronades"


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Constitution

1,576 tons, 93 m L X 13 m W X 7 m D

   "Decks    Orlop, Berth, Gun, Spar

    30 × 24-pounder (11 kg) long gun
    20 × 32-pounder (15 kg) carronade
    2 × 24-pounder (11 kg) bow chasers"

Two early Steam Sloops.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Alecto_(1839)

1,283 tons, 50 m L X 10 m W X 2 m D,  200 Hp

    "2 × 32-pdr (42 cwt) MLSB guns on pivot mounts
    2 × 32-pdr (25 cwt) MLSB guns on broadside trucks"


https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Rattler_(1843)


 1,112 tons, 60 m L X 10 m W X 3.50  m D, 200 HP,  10 knots
    "1 × 8-inch (60 cwt) pivot gun
    8 × 32-pounder (25cwt) broadside guns"


CSS Alabama (1862)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/CSS_Alabama

 1050 tons, 67 m L X 10  m W X 5 m D, 300 HP, 13 knots,
"6 × 32 lb (15 kg) cannons, 1 × 110 lb (50 kg) cannon, 1 × 68 lb (31 kg) cannon"


HMS Captain (1869)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Captain_(1869)

7000 tons as designed, rising to 8000 tons as actually built. 98 m  L X  16 m W X 7.6 m D, 5400 Hp, for 17.5 knots

• "4 × 12-inch 25-ton muzzle-loading rifles (2 × 2)," firing shells of 500-600 lbs.
  
• "2 × 7-inch 6.5-ton muzzle-loading rifles (2 × 1)," firing shells of 112-150 lbs.
• Had a "hurricane deck," above the gun turrets  for the rigging.
  

HMS Devastatation (1871)

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Devastation_(1871)
 
   9300 tons, 87 m L X 19 m W X 9 m D, 6600 Hp for 14 Knots
       "4 × 35 ton 12 in (305 mm) muzzle-loading rifles"

(7_7_1)
Lettres de Course-- lit. hunting license, otherwise Letters of Marque and Reprisal.

(7_7_2)
Trained in schools. While this might apply to French officers, it would not apply to English ones.

(7_11_1)
Gasconade-- a boast, characteristically made by a impoverished young man with a long sword and a short temper from a remote country town, eg. D'Artagnan or Cyrano De Begerac.

However, it would not be characteristic of someone like Napoleon Bonaparte, who had, starting in his early teens, spent years in French (Royal) Government engineering schools, before passing out wth high honors. These schools had first been organized, starting in about the 1670's, under the influence of Louvois and De Vauban, and had proliferated. there were, generally speaking, no English equivalents.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/FrançoisMichel_le_Tellier,_Marquis_de_Louvois

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sébastien_Le_Prestre,_Marquis_of_Vauban



(8_1_1) Landsmen-- Men with no nautical training, employed as human winches, pulling on ropes or turning capstans under the direction of the real sailors. sometimes called "waisters," becauase they lacked the skill to climb aloft.   One common source of landsmen was the local prison.

(8_1_2) This would be before Surcouf's actual return to the Indian Ocean. In fact, per the Wikipedia article, Surcouf departed St. Malo on march 2, 1807, arrived at Ille de France in June, and then went on a cruise from September 3, 1807--January 31, 1808. He then sent his second-in-command out on a short cruise.  On July 4, 1808, the governor of Ille de France requisitioned the ship for the Navy. Surcouf purchased another ship, and sailed home, arriing in St. Malo on February 4, 1809. He then returned to his occupation as a shipowner who fitted out privateers.

(8_2_1) Babu-- I render this as Merchant, "babu" was slang for Bengali, and, beyond that, refered to a clerk in the employment of the East India Company. Not the sort of person who would be showing off an expensively clad wife.


  (8_2_2) Such a crew would have been a calculated risk, at best. None of them would have been entirely loyal to England. Some, the Spaniards, would be from From a French ally. Some of them, might actually have been obtained from an English Prisoner-of-War camp. The greeks would bevsubjects of the t\Turkish Sultan. The Maltese, while nominally English subjects, would in practice have been loyal to the Catholic Knights of St. John (Hospitaliers). Even without the intervention of a French privateer, there would alway be the possibility of the crew mutinying and hijacking the ship. By offering the crew the customary wages of pirates, Clavaillan would have had little difficulty in recruiting them.

(8_2_3) Forbin-- Claude, comte de Forbin-Gardanne (1656-1733). French admiral under Louis XIV. His adventures in the Indian Ocean in the 1680's anticipate those of Raffles of Singapore and Brooke of Sarawak in the early nineteenth century. After 1689, and England's "Glorious Revolution," a naval/colonial war with England began, and he commanded fleets in this war.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Claude_de_Forbin

(8_4_1) paquet-- lit. "package." I render, colloquially, as "affair."

(8_4_2) Leon, near Morlaix. A country village, about fifteen miles inland and eastward from the small port of Morlaix. Firmly in the Breton-speaking hinterland.

(8_5_1) Cachtier, per Larouse, "a secretive person."

(8_6_1) des bateaux et des barques -- I render this as "ships and boats," approximately following Larousse.

(9_1_1) "Perroquets et cacatois," "top-gallant and royal sails," the highest ones on the mast,giving the most power, but also the greatest risk of capsizing the ship.

http://www.centpourcentanglais.com/html/009-glossary-a.htm

(9_5_1) Pitchuon, Provencal or Occitan, the kid. per Google Search.  Ustaritz never makes any excursions into Basque.

(10_1_1) corde de pancas. "pancas" is a french mangling of hindi "punkah," a fan, typically mounted in the ceiling, or in a window, and actuated by pulling and releasing a cord, More typically, the cord ran outside, and was worked by a servant.

(10_4_1) In India, the Khitmugar would very probably have gone on strike if asked to serve beef. There would have been no butcher to supply beef. In a culture where cows were and are sacred, they would have used mutton instead, acceptable to hindus and muslims alike. So I have substituted mutton for beef.

(10_5_1) Amazone, riding habit, a long dress designed for riding a horse with a side-saddle.

(11_4_1) All of these number are greatlt exaggerated, not only firm reality, but from the previous exaggerations.

(11_4_2) of course the silver rupees from Bombay would have been moved to the Revenant, but barrels of tar would have been brought from the other ships, and placed in the magazine, next to the gunpowder,  to set fires when the charge exploded.

(11_4_3) Breton de Roch, lit. Breton of the rocks. Obscure, a Google Search doesn't turn p anything better than the very text we are translating. However, as Eval is originally an inlander, not a coast-man, I think we might render it as"Hill-Breton," or backwoodsman.

(11_5_1) Another anachronism. Before the oprning of the Suez Canal, the Red Sea was not a terribly important place. A British colony was not established before the 1830's.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aden#History



(12_1_1)  My interetation, based on map-reading

(12_2_1)  entraînèr, to sweep, per Larousse

(12_4_1)   Serve, ie. Military Service and Lady Service.

(13_1_1) BRANLE-BAS DE COMBAT-- Action stations, or general Quarters, or More Evocatively, "Beat to Quaters," That is, four drum beats, and then four silences, and repeat, being the drum section of the Royal Navy's anthem, "Heart of Oak." In a sailing warship, the crew basically lived on the gun-deck, amid the guns, so the all the impedimenta of daily life, including the temporary partitions which served as walls of officers' cabins,  had to be packed up and carried down to the orlop deck, the ship's "attic." The ship's hold, below the orlop deck, was where water tended to collect, and was used to store things which were reasonably waterproof, for example barrels of beef packed in brine, casks of wine, etc. It was therefore, in effect, the ships "basement." The orlop deck was for things which needed to be kept dry

(13_1_2) has to be the port tack, becase that exposes the starboaard to damage from forward.

(13_2_1) This would of course be Pierre Corneille's seventeenth- century french dramatic version, not the medieval Spanish "cantar."

(13_3_1). Aboukir and Trafalgar, referng to Nelson's tactitc if "crossing the T," so as to be able to fire down the length of enemy ships.

(13_3_2) to expose his undamged port battery

(13_3_3) Hanche, quarter (as in quarter-deck), or stern, per Waller.

(13_4_4) Stern-chasers, because there isn't any way for the main battery to strike a ship to the rear.

(13_6_1) tè-- interjection, hey, per larouse

(13_6_2) gaillard --quarterdeck or forecastle, per Waller. In this case, the quarterdeck.

(13_7_1) justaucorps--  per Larousse, jerkin, that is, a sleeveless leather jacket.

(15_15_1) Il perd son pays. Perdre is one of these nice words, as Jane Austen puts it, "which can do for everything." It can mean loose, or miss, or ruin, and so on, the he extent of a whole column in Larousse.

(15_15_2) tendre-- tighten, or seize. In this case, iIchose "enforce his will"

(15_16_1) Sir Arthur Wellesley, eventual Duke of Wellington, He actually sailed on March 10, 1805, ariving in England September 10. and two days later, while waiting to see Lord Catlereagh, the Secretary of War and The Colonies, met Horatio Nelson, who, the follwing day, wuld be going out to Trafalgar. Lord  Wellesley had been "recalled," that is, relieved of command, while Wellinton wason the way back home, and he must have heard the news when he was somewhere in the area of the Cape of Good Hope. Over the next couple of years, Wellington mostly marked time, waiting for a suitable command to open up. He found employment briefly during the Second battle of Copenhagen n 1807, temporarily holding ground positions to facilitate Admiral Gambier's total destruction of the Danish navy. Finally, he got what he wanted, the command of an expeditionary force which was supposed to launch a revoluton in Spain's Latin American colonies. But then, the French, seeing that Spain was effectively cut off from it's colonies, concluded that there was no longer anything to be gained by supporting a regime which might or might not be abe to command the loyalties of overseas Spaniards. So they staged a Coup D'Etat, using French troops which had been freely admitted to Spain to help with its war against Portugal. Wellesley's expedition was hastily "retasked" for Spain. Elizabeth Longford, _Wellington: The Years of the Sword_,1969, Harper & Row, New York , pp. 97-98, 110-111,133-139.

(15_16_12) "sourdement," per larousse, dully, or quietly. but in context, I substiture "thoughtfully."

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