Upon my return to Tripoli, I will buy you a shop near the port,--it is the best mercantile quarter. There you can sell in peace and quietness white morocco-leather, Smyrna carpets and tapestry, Persian silks and ostrich feathers. That is an easy and honest calling, my dear child.
You will be able to ama.s.s some money and afterward go to Malta, and establish yourself in the Jewish quarter. There you can lend your money at fifty per cent, to the chevaliers who are in debt. Thus you can avenge yourself on those who cut your father"s and mother"s throats, by pocketing their money. It is more lucrative and less dangerous than taking your revenge in blood."
"Captain!" cried Erebus, his cheeks flaming with indignation.
"Captain Pog is right," said Trimalcyon, "the vampire that sucks the blood of his sleeping prey with impunity is better than the bold falcon that attacks him in the sun."
"Trimalcyon, take care!" cried the young man, in anger.
"And who knows," continued Pog, "if chance may not cause the chevalier who ma.s.sacred your poor mother and n.o.ble father to fall under your usurious hand?"
"And see the avenging hand of Providence!" cried Trimalcyon. "The orphan becomes the creditor of the a.s.sa.s.sin! Blood and murder! Death and agony! This son, the avenger, at last gluts his rage by making the murderer of his family put on the yellow robe of insolvent debtors!"
At this last sarcasm, the anger of Erebus exceeded all bounds, and he seized Trimalcyon by the throat and drew on him a knife that he had taken from the table. But for the iron grasp of Pog, which held the youth"s hand like a vice, the fat pirate would have been dangerously wounded, if not killed.
"By Eblis and his black wings! Captain, take care! If you are provoked at the blow I was about to give that hog, then I will address myself to you!" cried Erebus, trying to free himself from Pog"s hands.
Swan-skin and Orangine escaped, shrieking with terror.
"See what it is to spoil children," said Pog, with a disdainful smile, as he released the hand of Erebus.
"And to allow them to play with knives," replied Trimalcyon, picking up the knife that Erebus had let fall in the struggle.
A look from Pog warned him that he must not push the young man too far.
"Do you wish to kill the one who has brought you up, dear child?"
said Pog, sarcastically. "Come, you have your dagger in your belt, strike."
Erebus looked at him with a surly air, and said, with an angry sneer:
"It is in the name of grat.i.tude, then, that you ask me to spare your life? Then why have you preached to me the forgetfulness of benefits and the remembrance of injuries?"
Notwithstanding his impudence, Trimalcyon looked at Pog in amazement, not knowing how his companion would reply to that question.
Pog gave Erebus a look of withering contempt, as he said to him:
"I wished to test you, when I spoke of grat.i.tude. Yes, the truly brave man forgets all benefits, and only remembers injuries. I offered you the most outrageous insult, I told you that you did not have the courage to avenge the death of your parents. You ought to have struck me at once,--but you are a coward."
[Ill.u.s.tration: Pog, calm and unmoved, opened his breast]
Erebus quickly drew his dagger and raised it over the pirate before Trimalcyon could take a step.
Pog, calm and unmoved, opened his breast without a sign of emotion.
Twice Erebus raised his arm, twice he let it fall again. He could not make up his mind to strike a defenceless man. He bowed his head with a sorrowful air.
Pog sat down again and said to Erebus, in a severe and imperious voice:
"Child, do not quote maxims whose meaning perhaps you may comprehend, but which your weak heart will not let you put in practice. Listen to me, once for all. I received you without pity. I feel as much hatred and contempt for you as I do for all other men. I have trained you to pillage and murder, as I would have amused myself in training a young wolf for slaughter, that some day I might be able to hurl you against my enemies. I have killed all the chevaliers of Malta who have fallen into my hands, because I have a terrible vengeance to wreak on that order. I have taught you that your family was ma.s.sacred by them, in the hope of exciting your rage, and turning it against those whom I execrate. You have already served my purpose; you have killed two caravanists with your own hand, in one combat. I know you had no pleasure in it, you thought you were avenging your father and mother. I deal with you as a man deals with his war-horse; as long as he serves him, he spurs him and urges him to the fray; when he becomes feeble, he sells him. Do not feel bound in any respect to me; kill me if you can. If you dare not strike before my face, act as a traitor,--you will succeed, perhaps."
As Erebus heard these frightful words, he seemed to be in a dream.
If he had never been deceived as to the tenderness of Pog, he believed that the man had at least an interest in him, the interest that a poor, abandoned child always inspires in one who has the care of him. The brutal confession of Pog left him no longer in doubt. These detestable maxims he had just uttered were too much in accord with the rest of his life to allow the young man to question their reality.
The feelings of his own heart were inexplicable. He seemed to have fallen into some deep and b.l.o.o.d.y abyss. The thoughts which rushed upon him drove him to frenzy. His tender and generous instincts thrilled painfully, as if an iron hand had torn them from his heart.
After the first moment of dejection, the detestable influence of Pog regained the ascendency. Erebus wished to vie with this man in cynicism and barbarity. He lifted up his pale face, and said, as a sarcastic smile played upon his lips:
"You have enlightened me, Captain Pog; until now, the hatred of the soldiers of Christ had never entered into my heart; until now, I only wished their death because they had killed my father and mother; if I showed them no mercy, I fought them, sword to sword, galley to galley.
But now, captain, armed or disarmed, young or old, fairly or basely, I will kill as many as I can kill,--do you know why, captain? Say, do you know why, captain?"
"He is out of his head!" whispered Trimalcyon.
"No, he says what he feels," replied Pog. "Ah, well, then, my child, tell me why?" added he.
"Because in making me an orphan, they put me in your power, and you have made me what I am."
There was in the expression of the features of Erebus something which revealed a hatred so implacable, that Trimalcyon whispered to Pog:
"There is blood in his look!"
Erebus, although exasperated beyond measure by the contemptuous hatred of Pog, did not dare avenge himself, because he was dominated by an involuntary sentiment of grat.i.tude toward the man who had reared him, and with an air of desperation he went out of the chamber.
"He is going to kill himself!" cried Trimalcyon.
Pog shrugged his shoulders.
Some moments after, while the two companions sat in gloomy silence, they heard the sound of oars striking the water.
"He is going back to his chebec," said Trimalcyon.
Without replying, Pog went out of the chamber and walked to the prow.
It was late. The wind had grown somewhat calm; the galley-slaves were sleeping on their benches.
Nothing was heard but the regular step of the spahis who walked their rounds on the vessel.
Pog, leaning over the guards, looked at the sea in silence.
Trimalcyon, in spite of his depravity, had been moved by this scene.
Never had the cruel monomania of Pog shown itself in such a horrible light. He felt a certain embarra.s.sment in engaging in conversation with his silent friend. At last, approaching him with several "Hem--Hems," and numerous hesitations, he said: "The weather is very fine this evening, Captain Pog."
"Your remark is full of sense, Trimalcyon."
"Come to the point now, and shame to the devil! I do not know what to say to you, Pog, but you are a terrible man; you will make that poor starling insane. How in the devil can you find pleasure in tormenting the young fellow so? Some fine day he will leave you."
"If you were not a man incapable of understanding me, Trimalcyon, I would tell you that what I feel for this unfortunate youth is strange," said Pog. "Yes, it is strange," continued he, talking to himself. "Sometimes I feel furious anger rising in me against Erebus, a resentment as implacable as if he were my most deadly enemy. Again I have the indifference of a piece of ice. Other times I feel for him a compa.s.sion, I would say affection if that sentiment could enter my soul. Then, the sound of his voice--yes, especially the sound of his voice--and his look awaken in me memories of a time which is no more."
As he uttered these last words, Pog spoke indistinctly. Trimalcyon was touched by the accent of his usually morose companion. The voice of Pog, ordinarily hard and sarcastic, softened almost to a lamentation.