A thunderbolt broke and reverberated, and, by a strange coincidence, at the same moment two men issued from the obscurity of the vault, and with slow and deliberate steps advanced toward the commander and Honorat de Berrol.
These men were Pog and Erebus.
Pog held a naked sword in his right hand; his left arm was around the neck of Erebus, and he reclined tenderly upon the young man, as a father would lean upon a son. Erebus also held an unsheathed sword in his hand.
Both continued to approach the commander and Honorat.
Suddenly Pierre des Anbiez stood for a moment petrified, then, without uttering a word, quickly stepped back, seized the arm of the Chevalier de Berrol, and pointed to Pog and Erebus, with a gesture of terror.
Notwithstanding the change produced by years in the countenance of Pog, the commander recognised in him the Count de Montreuil, the husband of Emilie, the man whom he believed he had killed, and whose portrait he had preserved as an expiation of his crime.
"Have the dead come back from the grave?" said he, in a low voice, recoiling and dragging Honorat with him as Pog advanced.
The Chevalier de Berrol was ignorant of all that pertained to that terrible tragedy, but he felt a secret horror, less at the appearance of the two pirates than at the evident fright of the commander, whose intrepidity was so well known.
Then, as if to render the solemn scene still more awful, the tempest increased in violence, and the thunder grew louder and more frequent.
Pog stopped.
"Do you know me? Do you know me?" said he to the commander.
"If you are not a ghost, I know you," replied the commander, fixing a look of amazement upon the husband of Emilie.
"Do you remember the unhappy woman whose murderer you were?"
"I remember, I remember, I accuse myself." And the commander struck his breast in the act of contrition.
At these words, uttered in a low voice by Pierre des Anbiez, Erebus, whose countenance expressed the rage of desperation, raised his sword, and started to throw himself upon the commander.
Pog restrained him with a firm hand, and said to him: "Not yet."
Erebus rested the point of his sword on the ground, and raised his eyes to heaven.
"You owe me a b.l.o.o.d.y reparation," said Pog.
"My life belongs to you. I shall not lift my sword against you,"
replied the commander, bowing his head upon his breast.
"You have accepted the combat. I have your word. Here is your adversary," and he pointed to Erebus. "Here is mine," and he pointed to Honorat.
"Take up your sword, then," cried the Chevalier do Berrol, who wished at any cost to put an end to a scene which, in spite of himself, chilled him with horror.
He advanced toward Pog.
"They first, we afterward," answered Pog.
"This instant, this instant! Take up your sword!" cried Honorat.
Pog, addressing Pierre des Anbiez, said, in an imperious tone: "Order your second to await the result of your fight with the young captain."
"Chevalier, I pray you to wait," said the commander, with resignation.
"Defend your life, murderer!" cried Erebus, rushing upon Pierre des Anbiez with uplifted sword.
"But this is a child!" said the commander, looking at his adversary with a sort of contemptuous compa.s.sion.
"Your mother! Your mother!" whispered Pog to Erebus.
"Yes, a child, the child of those whom you have murdered," cried the unfortunate youth, striking the commander in the face with the breadth of his sword.
The livid countenance of the old soldier became purple; transported with anger at this insult, he threw himself upon Erebus, saying, "Lord, thy will be done!"
Then ensued a parricidal struggle.
And the darkness suddenly fell upon the scene, as if nature herself revolted at the sight.
Thunderbolts rent the clouds, the tempest let loose its fury, and the very rocks trembled upon their foundations.
The parricidal combat continued with undiminished rage.
[Ill.u.s.tration: This parricidal combat continued ]
With clasped hands, Pog, with ferocious eagerness, enjoyed the frightful spectacle.
"At last, after twenty years, I taste one moment of true, ineffable happiness. Roll, O thunder! Burst forth, O tempest! All nature takes part in my vengeance!" cried he, in savage joy.
Honorat, unable to account for his own feelings, cried in dismay:
"Enough! enough!" and tried to separate Erebus and Pierre des Anbiez.
Pog, endowed for the moment with superhuman strength, seized Honorat, paralysed his efforts, and said, in a low voice, trembling with rage and excitement, "My vengeance!"
Erebus fell.
"Pierre des Anbiez, you have killed your son! Here are your letters, here are the portraits, you can see them," cried Pog, in a voice that rose above the storm, and he threw at the feet of the commander the casket which Hadji had stolen from Peyrou.
Suddenly a thunderbolt struck with a noise impossible to describe. The heavens, the bay, the ruins, the rocks, and the sea, appeared to be on fire.
A terrible explosion followed, and the very earth trembled; a part of the ruins of the abbey fell away, while a blast of wind, breaking and driving everything in its path, enveloped the entire bay in its irresistible and tremendous whirlpool.
CHAPTER XLII. CONCLUSION.
Three days after the dreadful combat between Pierre des Anbiez and Erebus, the black galley and the polacre of Luquin were anch.o.r.ed in the port of La Ciotat.
The great clock in the hall of Maison-Forte had just struck nine.