Then, without giving her betrothed time to rise and repeat these sweet words, Stephanette turned around quickly while he was still on his knees, and gave him a kiss on the forehead, and then disappeared through a passage in the court before the worthy captain, as delighted as surprised, had been able to take a step.
CHAPTER XVI. THE OVERSEERS OF THE PORT
At the instigation of Master Isnard, still implacable, for reason of the inhospitable reception given to him by Raimond V., the consul, Talebard-Talebardon, on Saturday evening despatched a clerk to Maison-Forte des Anbiez, for the purpose of informing the baron that he was to appear the next day, Sunday, before the overseers of the port.
Raimond V. made the trembling clerk sit down to the table and take supper with him, but every time the man of the law opened his mouth to ask the baron to appear before the tribunal, the old gentleman would cry out, “Laramée, pour out some wine for my guest!”
Then he had the clerk taken back to La Ciotat somewhat intoxicated.
Interpreting the conduct of the baron according to their own view, Master Isnard and the consul saw in his refusal to answer their summons the most outrageous contempt.
The next day, which was Sunday, after the mass, at which, notwithstanding his resolution the evening before, the baron did not appear, the consuls and the recorder went through the houses of the principal citizens, exciting public sentiment against Raimond V., who had so openly braved and insulted the privileges of Provençal communities.
Much artifice, much deceit, and a great deal of persistence on the part of Master Isnard were necessary to make the inhabitants of La Ciotat share his hostility against the lord of Maison-Forte, because the instinct of the multitude is always in sympathy with the rebellion of a lord against a lord more powerful than himself; but on account of recent disputes about fishing privileges, the recorder succeeded in arousing the indignation of the multitude.
As we have said, it was Sunday morning; after mass the overseers of the port held their sessions in the large town hall, situated near the new harbour. It was a massive, heavy building, constructed of brick, and had many small windows.
On each side rose the dwellings of the wealthiest citizens.
The site of the town hall was separated from the port by a narrow little street.
A noisy crowd of citizens, fishermen, sailors, artisans, and country people were pressing into the yard, and many had already seated themselves at the door of the town hall, so as to be present at the session of the overseers.
The citizens, instructed by the recorder, circulated in groups among the multitude, and spread the news that Raimond V. despised the rights of the people by refusing to appear before the overseers.
Master Talebard-Talebardon, one of the consuls, a large man, corpulent and florid, with a shrewd, sly look, wearing his felt hood and official robe, occupied with the recorder the centre of one of these animated groups of which we have spoken, and which was composed of men of all sorts and conditions.
“Yes, my friends,” said the consul, “Raimond V. treats Christians as he treats the dogs he hunts with. The other day he threatened this respectable Master Isnard whom you see here with his whip after having exposed him to the fury of two of the fiercest bulls from Camargne; it was a miracle that this worthy officer of the admiralty of Toulon escaped the awful peril that threatened his life,” said the consul, with an important air.
“A real miracle, for which I return thanks to Our Lady of la Garde,” added the recorder, devoutly. “I never saw such furious bulls.”
“By St Elmo, my patron!” said a sailor, “I would gladly have given my new scarf to have been a witness of that race. I have never seen bull-fights except in Barcelona.”
“Without taking into account that recorder-toreadors are very rare,” said another sailor.
Master Isnard, deeply wounded at inspiring so little interest, replied, with a doleful air, “I assure you, my friends, that it is a terrible, a formidable thing to be exposed to an attack from these ferocious animals.”
“Since you have been pursued by bulls,” asked an honest tailor, “do tell us, M. Recorder, if it is true that angry bulls have the tail curled up, and that they shut their eyes when they strike?”
Master Talebard-Talebardon shrugged his shoulders, and replied, sternly, to the inquirer:
“You think then, cut-cloth, that a person amuses himself by looking at a bull’s tail and eyes, when he is charging on him?”
“That is true, that is true,” replied several assistants. “Certain it is,” continued the consul, wishing to move the crowd to pity the recorder, and irritate it against the baron, “certain it is that this officer of justice and of the king narrowly escaped being a victim to the diabolical wickedness of Raimond V.”
“Raimond V. destroyed two litters of wolves’ whelps that ravaged our farm, to say nothing of the present he made us of the heads of the wolf and the whelps, which are nailed to our door,” said a peasant, shaking his head.
“Raimond V. is not a bad master. If the harvest fails, he comes to your aid; he replaced two draught-oxen that I lost through witchcraft.”
“That is true, when one holds out a hand to the lord of Anbiez, he never draws it back empty,” said an artisan.
“And at the time of the last descent of the pirates in this place, he and his people bravely fought the miscreants; but for him, I, my wife, and my daughter, would have been carried off by these demons,” said a citizen.
“And the two sons of the good man Jacbuin were redeemed and brought back from Barbary by good Father Elzear, the brother of Raimond V. But for him they would still have been in chains galling enough to damn their souls,” replied another.
“And the other brother, the commander, who looks as sombre as his black galley,” said a patron of a merchant vessel, “did he not keep those pagans in awe for more than two months while his galley lay soaked in the gulf? Come, a good and noble family is that of Anbiez. After all, this man of law is not one of us,” and pointed to the recorder. “What does it matter to us if he is or is not run through by a bull’s horn?”
“That is true, that is true; he is not one of us,” repeated several voices.
“Raimond V. is a good old gentleman who never refuses a pound of powder and a pound of lead to a sailor, to defend his boat,” said a sailor.
“There is always a good place at the fireside of Maison-Forte, a good glass of Sauve-chrétien wine and a piece of silver for those who go there,” said a beggar.
“And his daughter! An angel! A perfect Notre Dame for the poor people,” said another.
“Well, who in the devil denies all that?” cried the consul. “Raimond V. kills wolves because he is fond of the chase. He does not mind a piece of silver or a pound of powder or a glass of wine, because he is rich, very rich; but he does all this to hide his perfidious designs.”
“What designs?” asked several auditors.
“The design of ruining our commerce, ravaging our city, in short, doing worse than the pirates, or the Duke d’Eperaon with his Gascons,” said the consul, with a mysterious air.
All this, which he did not believe, the consul had uttered as an experiment, and the alarming disclosure of some hidden design, exciting the curiosity of the crowd, was at last listened to with attention.
“Explain that to us, consul,” said all, with one voice.
“Master Isnard, who is a man of the law, is going to explain this tissue of dark and pernicious schemes,” said Talebard-Talebardon.
The recorder came forward with an anxious air, raised his eyes to heaven, and said:
“Your worthy consul, my friends, has told you nothing but what is, unfortunately, too true. We have proofs of it.”
“Proofs!” repeated several hearers, looking at each other.
“Give me your attention. The king, our master, and monseigneur the cardinal have only one thought, – the happiness of the French people.”
“But we are not French, we are quite another thing,” said a Provençal, proud of his nationality. “The king is not our master, he is our count.”
“You talk finely, my comrade, but listen to me, if you please,” replied the recorder. “The king, our count, not wishing to have his Provençal communities exposed to the despotic power of the nobles and lords, has ordered us to disarm them. His Eminence remembers too well the violences of the Duke d’Epernon, of the lords of Baux, of Noirol, of Traviez, and many others. He desires now to take away from the nobility the power of injuring the people and the peasantry. Thus, for instance, his Eminence wished, – and these sovereign orders will be executed sooner or later, – he wished, I repeat, to remove from Maison-Forte, the castle of Raimond V., the cannon and small pieces of ordnance which guard the entrance of your port, and which can prevent the going out of the smallest fishing-boat.”
“But which can also prevent the entrance of pirates,” said a sailor.
“No doubt, my friends, the fire bums or purifies; the arrow kills the friend or the enemy, according to the hand which holds the crossbow. I should not have had any suspicion of Raimond V., if he had not himself unveiled to me his perfidious designs. Let us put aside his cruelty to me. I am happy to be the martyr of our sacred cause.”
“You are not a martyr, as you are still living,” said the incorrigible sailor.
“I am living at this moment,” replied the recorder, “but the Lord knows at what price, with what perils, I have bought my life, or what dangers I may still be required to meet. But let us not talk of myself.”
“No, no, do not talk of yourself, – that does not concern us, – but tell us how you obtained proof of the wicked designs Raimond V. has against our city,” said an inquirer.
“Nothing more evident, my friends. He has fortified his castle again, and why? To resist the pirates, say some. But never would the pirates dare attack such a fortress, where they would gain nothing but blows. He has made a strong fort in his house, from which the cannon can founder your vessels and destroy your city. Do you know why? In order to tyrannise over you for his profit, and tread Provençal customs under foot with impunity. Wait; let me give you an instance. He has, contrary to all law, established his fishing-nets outside of his legal boundary.”
“That is true,” said Talebard-Talebardon; “you know he has no right to do it. What injury that does to our fisheries, often our only resource!”
“That is evident,” answered a few hearers; “the seines of Raimond V. have injured us, especially now when the supply of fish is smaller. But if it is his right?”
“But it is not his right!” shouted the recorder.
“We will know to-day, as the suit is to be decided by the overseers of the port,” said an auditor.
The recorder exchanged a glance of intelligence with the consul, and said:
“Doubtless the tribunal of overseers is all-powerful to decide the question, but it is exactly on this point that my doubts have arisen. I fear very much that Raimond V. is not willing to refer to this popular tribunal. He is capable of refusing to obey that summons, made, after all, by poor people, on a high and powerful baron – ”
“It is impossible! it is impossible! for it is our special right. The people have their rights, the nobility have theirs. Freedom for all!” cried many voices.
“I hold Raimond V. to be a good and generous noble,” said another, “but I shall regard him as a traitor if he refuses to recognise our privileges.”
“No, no, that is impossible,” repeated several voices.
“He will come – ”
“He is going to appear before the overseers – ”
“God grant it!” said the recorder, exchanging another glance with the consul. “God grant it, my friends; because, if he despises our customs enough to act otherwise, we must think that he put his house in a state of such formidable defence only to brave the laws.”
“We repeat that what you are saying, recorder, is impossible. Raimond V. cannot deny the authority of the overseers, nor can he deny the authority of the king,” said an auditor.
“But, first, he denies the authority of the king,” cried Master Isnard, triumphantly; “and, since I must tell you, I believe, even after what your worthy consul has told me, that he will deny, not only the royal power, but the rights of the community also; in a word, that he will positively refuse to appear before the overseers, and that he wishes to keep his seines and nets where they are, to the detriment of the general fishery.”
A hollow murmur of astonishment and indignation welcomed this news.
“Speak, speak, consul; is it true?”
“Raimond V. is too brave a nobleman for that.”
“If it is true, yet – ”
“They are our rights, after all, and – ”
Such were the various remarks which rapidly crossed each other through the restless crowd.
The consul and recorder saw themselves surrounded and pressed by a multitude which was becoming angrily impatient.
Talebard-Talebardon, in collusion with the recorder, had prepared this scene with diabolical cunning.
The consul replied, hoping to increase the dissatisfaction of the populace:
“Without being absolutely certain of the refusal of Raimond V., I have every reason to fear it; but the recorder’s clerk, who carried the summons to Maison-Forte yesterday, and who has been obliged to go to Curjol on business, will arrive in a moment, and confirm the news. Our Lady grant that it may not be what I apprehend. Alas! what would become of our communities, if our only right, the only privilege accorded to us poor people, should be snatched away from us?”
“Snatched away!” repeated the recorder; “it is impossible. The nobility and the clergy have their rights. How dare they rob the people of the last, the only resource they have against the oppression of the powerful!”
Nothing is more easily moved than the mind of the populace, and especially of the populace on Mediterranean shores. This crowd, but a moment before controlled by their gratitude to the baron, now forgot almost entirely the important services rendered to them by the family of Anbiez, at the bare suspicion that Raimond V. wished to attack one of the privileges of the community.
These rumours, circulated among different groups, singularly irritated the minds of the fishermen. The recorder and the consul, thinking the moment had arrived in which they could strike a final blow, ordered one of their attendants to go in quest of the recorder’s clerk, who ought, they said, to have returned from his journey, although, in fact, he had not left La Ciotat.
At this moment, the five overseers of the port and their syndic, having met after mass under the porch of the church, passed through the crowd to enter the town hall, where they were to hold their solemn audience.
The new circumstances gave additional interest to their appearance; they were saluted on all sides with numerous bravos, accompanied with the cries:
“Long live the overseers of the port!”
“Long live the Provençal communities!”
“Down with those who attack them!”
The crowd, now greatly excited, pressed hard upon the steps of the overseers, so as to be present at the session.
Then the clerk arrived. Although he said much in protest of the interpretation given to his words by the recorder and the consul, those men continued to exclaim with hypocritical lamentations.
“Ah, well, ah, well, consul,” cried one of the crowd, “is Raimond V. coming? Will he appear before the tribunal?”
“Alas! my friends,” replied the consul, “do not question me. The worthy recorder has predicted only too well. The tyrannical, imperious, irascible character of the baron has been again made manifest.”
“How? How?”
“The clerk was charged yesterday to notify Raimond V. to appear before the tribunal of overseers; he has returned and – ”
“There he is! Ah, – well, come to the point!”
“Ah!”
“Ah, well!”
“Ah, well, he has been overwhelmed with the cruel treatment of Raimond V.”
“But,” whispered the clerk, “on the contrary, the baron made me drink so much wine that I – ”
Master Isnard seized the clerk so violently by his smock-frock, and threw such a furious glance on him, that the poor man did not dare utter a word.
“After having overwhelmed him with cruel treatment,” continued the consul, “Raimond formally declared to him that he would make straw of our privileges, that he intended to keep his seines, and that he was strong enough to overcome us, if we dared act contrary to his will, and that – ”
An explosion of fury interrupted the consul.
The tumult was at its height; the most violent threats burst out against Raimond V.
“To the fishing-nets! the fishing-nets!” cried some.
“To Maison-Forte!” cried others.
“Do not leave one stone upon another!”
“To arms! to arms!”
“Let us make a petard to blow up the gate of the moat on the land side!”
“Death, death to Raimond V.!”
Seeing the fury of the populace, the recorder and the consul began to fear that they had gone too far, and that they would find it impossible to control the passions they had so imprudently unchained.
“My friends, – my children!” cried Talebard-Tale-bardon, addressing the most excited of the speakers, “be moderate. Run to the fishing-nets, – that you may do, but make no attack upon Maison-Forte, or upon the life of the baron!”
“No pity! – no pity! You yourself have told us, consul, that Raimond was going to fire on the city and the port and do worse than the Duke d’Epernon and his Gascons.”
“Yes, yes. Let us destroy the old wolfs den and nail him to his door!”
“To Maison-Forte!”
“To Maison-Forte!”
Such were the furious cries which met the tardy words of moderation, which the consul now tried to make the excited people heed.
The more peaceable inhabitants pressed around the town hall, so as to enter the room of the tribunal where the overseers were already seated. Others, divided into two bands, were preparing, in spite of the entreaties of the consul, to destroy the fishing-nets and attack Maison-Forte des Anbiez, when an extraordinary incident struck the crowd with amazement, and rendered it silent and motionless.
CHAPTER XVII. THE JUDGMENT
The general astonishment was very natural
Slowly descending the street, in the direction of the public square, was seen the heavy ceremonial carriage of Raimond V.
Four of his men, armed and on horseback, preceded by Laramée, opened the march; then came the carriage, with a crimson velvet canopy, somewhat worn; the retinue, as well as the body of the carriage, which was without windows, yet bore conspicuously the baron’s coat of arms, showed the red and yellow colours of the livery of Raimond V.
Four strong draught-horses, yoked with rope traces, laboriously dragged this rude and massive vehicle, in the depth of which sat the baron majestically enthroned.
Opposite him sat Honorât de Berrol.
Inside the coach, near the doors, two small stools were placed. On one sat Abbé Mascarolus, with a bag of papers on his knees. The steward of the baron occupied the other.
The imperfect construction of this ponderous vehicle permitted no place for a coachman. A carter, dressed for the occasion in a greatcoat, with the baron’s livery, walked at the head of each pair of horses, and conducted the equipage as he would have managed a farm-wagon.
Finally, behind the carriage came four other armed men on horseback.
Although rude, this equipage and retinue inspired profound admiration among the inhabitants of the little town; the sight of a coach, however inelegant, was always to them a novel and interesting thing.
As we have said, the crowd stood silently looking on. They knew that Raimond V. never used this carriage except on important occasions, and a lively curiosity suspended for a time their most violent passions.
They whispered among each other concerning the direction the carriage would take: was it to the church, or was it to the town hall?
This last supposition became probable as Raimond V., having turned the corner of the street, took the road which led to the edifice where the overseers of the port were assembled.
Soon doubt changed to certainty, when they heard the stentorian voice of Laramée cry:
“Room! make way for monseigneur, who is going to the tribunal of the overseers!”
Theae words, passing from mouth to mouth, finally reached the ears of the consul and the recorder, whose disappointment and vexation were extreme.
“Why, what have you said, recorder?” cried the men who surrounded him, “here is Raimond V.; he is coming to present himself before the tribunal of overseers.”
“Then he has not resolved to make straw of our privileges?”
“He intends to appear, yes, he intends to appear without doubt,” said Master Isnard, “but he is coming with a retinue of armed men; who can tell what he is going to say to those poor overseers of the port?”
“Doubtless he wishes to intimidate them,” said the consul.
“He wishes to make his refusal to recognise their jurisdiction all the more contemptuous by coming to tell them so himself,” said the recorder.
“An armed retinue?” said a hearer. “And what do these men with carbines intend to do against us?”
“The consul is right. He is coming to insult the overseers,” said one of the most defiant citizens.
“Come now, Raimond V., as bold as he is, would never dare do that,'’ replied a third.
“No, no; he recognises our privileges, – he is a good and worthy lord,” cried several voices. “We were wrong to distrust him.”
In a word, by one of those sudden changes so common in popular excitements, the mind of the people at once turned over to the favour of Raimond V. and to hostility toward the recorder.
Master Isnard put both his responsibility and his person under cover, and, in so doing, did not hesitate to expose his unfortunate clerk to the anger of the people.
Instead of manifesting hostility to the baron, several of the citizens now assumed a threatening attitude toward the recorder for having deceived them.
“It is this stranger,” said they, “who has excited us against Raimond V.”
“This good and worthy noble who has always stood for us!”
“Yes, yes, that is so; he told us that Raimond wished to destroy our privileges, and, on the contrary, he respects them.”
“Without doubt, monseigneur did well in delivering him to the bulls of Camargne,” cried a sailor, shaking his fist at the recorder.
“Permit me, my friends,” said the recorder, painfully realising the absence of the consul, who had prudently escaped to the town hall, where he would appear as a plaintiff against the baron, “permit me to say that, although nothing could make me put faith in the baron’s good intentions, I do not hesitate to say that good may come out of all this. Perhaps my clerk has been mistaken; perhaps he has exaggerated the extent of the remarks made by the Baron des Anbiez. Come now, clerk,” said he, turning to the scribe with a severe and haughty air, “do not lie. Have you not deceived me? Recall your experience. Perhaps you were frightened into wrong. I know you are a coward. What did the baron say to you? Zounds! clerk, woe to you if you have deceived me, and if by your folly I, myself, have deceived these estimable citizens!”
Opening his large eyes to their utmost, and utterly confounded by the audacity of the recorder, the poor clerk could only repeat, in a trembling voice: “Monseigneur told me nothing; he made me sit down at his table, and every time I tried to tell him of the summons from the overseers Master Laramée came with a big glass of Spanish wine, that I was, to speak reverently, obliged to swallow at one draught.”
“Zounds!” cried the recorder, in a thundering voice. “What! this is the bad treatment you complained of! Forgive him, gentlemen, he was certainly drunk, and I am sorry to see that he has deceived us about the designs of Raimond V. Let us hasten to the town hall, where we can assure ourselves of the reality of certain facts, for the baron’s carriage has stopped there, I see.”
Thus speaking, and without appearing to hear the threatening murmurs of the crowd, the recorder hurried away, accompanied by the unfortunate clerk, who in the retreat received several thrusts, evidently addressed to Master Isnard.
The large audience-chamber of the town hall in La Ciotat formed a long parallelogram lighted by tall, narrow windows, with panes set in frames of lead.
On the walls opposite the windows – bare walls, white with a coating of lime – were displayed several flags captured from Barbary pirates.
Projecting rafters of unpolished wood crossed each other beneath the ceiling. At the extremity of this immense hall and opposite the large door of entrance could be seen, upon a stage, the tribunal of the overseers of the port. Before them was a long table roughly cut at right angles.
The judges were four in number, presided over by the watchman from the cape of l’Aigle, who had temporarily resigned his ordinary functions into the hands of Luquin Trinquetaille.
According to custom, these fishermen wore black breeches, a black doublet, and a black mantle, with a white band; on their heads they wore hats with a wide brim. The youngest of these judges was not less than fifty years old. Their attitude was simple and serious; their sunburnt faces and long white or gray hair shone with a Rembrandt light under the sudden ray of sunshine shooting from the narrow windows, and were distinctly outlined on the shadowy light which reigned in the body of the hall.
These five old seamen, elected by their corporation on St. Stephen’s Day, justified the choice of their companions. Brave, honest, and pious, they assuredly represented the best of the maritime population of the town and the gulf.
The tribunal and the place reserved for those who were to appear before them were separated from the crowd by a rude barrier of wood.
We quote from the work, “Voyage and Inspection of M. de Séguiran,” already cited in the preface: “The jurisdiction of the overseers was very simple. Whoso wishes to enter a complaint before these overseers can be heard, but not before he has deposited two sous and eight farthings in the common purse, after which he can demand the party against whom he enters a complaint. The said party is obliged to make the same deposit, and both are heard; and at the end of the argument the eldest of these overseers pronounces judgment according to the counsel of his colleagues.”
The secretary of the community called in a loud voice the plaintiffs and defendants.
Never had a session excited so much interest in the public mind.
Before the arrival of Raimond V. the greater part of those who filled the hall were still ignorant of the baron’s intentions, whether or not he would appear before the tribunal. The smaller number, however, hoped that he would respect the privileges of the community.
But when they learned from the curious ones outside that the gentleman’s carriage of state was already in the square, they eagerly watched every movement of the constantly increasing multitude.
The crier was obliged to elevate his voice to its utmost to command silence, and Peyrou, the watchman, as assignee of the overseers, at last administered a severe rebuke to the clamorous crowd, and order finally prevailed.
The tribunal then regulated some business of little importance, but with as much care and deliberate circumspection, and as much attention to detail, as if one of the first lords of Provence was not expected every moment to appear before them.
The multitude was compact when Raimond V. presented himself at the door, and he had great difficulty in entering the large hall with Honorât de Berrol.
“Make way, make way for monseigneur!” cried several eager voices.
“Have the overseers called me, my children?” said Raimond V., affectionately.
“No, monseigneur.”
“Then I will wait here with you. It will be time to make way for me when I am called before the tribunal.”
These simple words, uttered with as much kindness as dignity, had a tremendous effect upon the crowd. The veneration inspired by the old gentleman, who but a moment before had been so menaced, was so great that the people formed a sort of circle of solemnity around him.
An officer took great pains to inform the secretary that the baron had entered the hall, and that it would be proper to call his case before others on the docket. The secretary, profiting from a short interval, submitted this suggestion to Peyrou, the assignee or syndic.
The latter simply replied: “Secretary, what is the next name on your list?”
“Jacques Brun, pilot, versus Pierre Baif, sailmaker.”
“Then call Jacques Brun and Pierre Baif.”
Peyrou owed much to the baron’s family. He was warmly attached to the house of Anbiez. In thus acting, he did not wish to make a display of his rights and exaggerate their importance. He was only obeying the spirit of justice and independence found in popular institutions.
It was without hesitation, and without the least intention to offend Raimond V., that the watchman said, in a loud and firm voice:
“Secretary, call another plaintiff.”
The dispute between Jacques Brun, the pilot, and the sailmaker, Pierre Baif, was of little importance. It was promptly, but carefully, decided by the overseers in the midst of the general preoccupation, and the cause of the baron immediately followed.
Notwithstanding the presence of the Baron des Anbiez, it was not known that he intended to appear before the tribunal. Naturally, the crowd remembered the insinuations of Master Isnard. The latter insisted that the baron was capable of manifesting his contempt for the tribunal in a very startling manner.
At last the secretary called, in an excited voice: “Master Talebard-Talebardon, consul of the city of La Ciotat, versus Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez.”
A long murmur of satisfied impatience circulated around the hall.
“Now, my children,” said the old gentlemen to those who surrounded him, “make way, I pray you, not for the baron, but for the suitor who is going before his judges.”
The enthusiasm inspired by these words of Raimond V. proved that, in spite of their instinctive thirst for equality, the people always had an immense liking for persons of rank who submitted to the common law.