I have them all
now in the hollow of my hand, and a thorough good crumpling is prepared
for them. The first house to burn shall be Zebedee Tugwell's, that
conceited old dolt of a fishing fellow, who gives me a nod of suspicion,
instead of pulling off his dirty hat to me. Then we blow up the church,
and old Twemlow's house, and the Admiral's, when we have done with it.
The fishing-fleet, as they call their wretched tubs, will come home,
with the usual fuss, to-night, and on Monday it shall be ashes. How like
you my programme? Is it complete?"
"Too much, too much complete; too barbarous," answered the kindly
hearted Frenchman. "What harm have all the poor men done to you? And
what insanity to provoke enemies of the people all around who would
bring us things to eat! And worse--if the houses are consumed with fire,
where will be the revenue that is designed for me, as the fair son of
the Admiral? No, no; I will allow none of that. When the landing is
made, you will not be my master. Soult will have charge of the subjects
inferior, and he is not a man of rapine. To him will I address myself in
favour of the village. Thus shall I ascend in the favour of my charming,
and secure my property."
"Captain, I am your master yet, and I will have no interference. No more
talk; but obey me to the letter. There is no sign of any rough weather,
I suppose? You sailors see things which we do not observe."
"This summer has not been of fine weather, and the sky is always
changing here.
Pages:
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622