der such circumstances, and towards
morning she went to bed--rarely, however, to sleep.
On one occasion, after a cold and bitter day, the evening came on
suddenly. Black clouds covered the horizon as with a funeral pall; the
wind began to howl round the hamlet with fearful violence; and
Madeleine shuddered, for she knew what was to be expected that night.
Scarcely had the gale commenced, when Pierre rose, put on a thick
pea-jacket and a sou'-wester, armed himself, and swallowing a glass of
brandy, went out. He was the last to leave the village; all the rest
had preceded him. He found them encamped in a narrow gorge, round a
huge fire, carefully concealed behind some rocks. It was a cold,
windy, wet night; but the wreckers cared not, for the wind blew dead
on shore, and gave rich promise of reward for whatever they might
endure.
A man lay on the look-out at the mouth of the gorge under a tarpaulin.
He had a night-glass in his hand, with which he swept the dark
horizon, for some time in vain. But the wind was too good to fail
them, and the wreckers had patience.
It was really a terrible night. It was pitchy dark: not a star, nor
one glimpse of the pale moon could be distinguished. The wind howled
among the rocks, and cast the spray up with violence against the
cliffs, which, however, in front of the gorge, gave way to a low sandy
beach, forming the usual scene of the wreckers' operations. A current
rushed into this narrow bight, and brought on shore numerous spars,
boxes, and boats--all things welcome to these lawless men.
'A prize!' cried the look-out suddenly. 'A tall Indiaman is not more
than a mile off shore. She is making desperate efforts to clear the
point, but she won't do it. She is ours, lads!'
'Give me the glass!' exclaimed Pierre rising. The other gave him the
telescope. 'Faith, a splendid brig!' said the patriarch with a
sinister smile--'the finest windfall we have had for many a season.
Jean, you must out with the cow, or perhaps it may escape us.'
The cow was an abominable invention which Pierre had taught his
comrades. A cow was tied to a stake, and a huge ship's lantern
fastened to its horns. This the animal tossed about in the hope of
disengaging himself, and in so doing presented the appearance of a
ship riding at anchor--all that could be seen on such nights being the
moving light. By this means had many a ship been lured to destruction,
in the vain hope of finding a safe anchoring-ground.
|