on lay heavily upon Gilliatt.

In any case, as a marcou, Gilliatt had it in his power to render great
services. On a certain Good Friday, at midnight, a day and an hour
propitious to this kind of cure, all the scrofulous people of the
island, either by sudden inspiration, or by concerted action, presented
themselves in a crowd at the Bu de la Rue, and with pitiable sores and
imploring gestures, called on Gilliatt to make them clean. But he
refused; and herein the people found another proof of his malevolence.

VI

THE DUTCH SLOOP

Such was the character of Gilliatt.

The young women considered him ugly.

Ugly he was not. He might, perhaps, have been called handsome. There was
something in his profile of rude but antique grace. In repose it had
some resemblance to that of a sculptured Dacian on the Trajan column.
His ears were small, delicate, without lobes, and of an admirable form
for hearing. Between his eyes he had that proud vertical line which
indicates in a man boldness and perseverance. The corners of his mouth
were depressed, giving a slight expression of bitterness. His forehead
had a calm and noble roundness. The clear pupils of his eyes possessed a
steadfast look, although troubled a little with that involuntary
movement of the eyelids which fishermen contract from the glitter of the
waves. His laugh was boyish and pleasing. No ivory could be of a finer
white than his teeth; but exposure to the sun had made him swarthy as a
moor. The ocean, the tempest, and the darkness cannot be braved with
impunity. At thirty he looked already like a man of forty-five. He wore
the sombre mask of the wind and the sea.

The people had nicknamed him "Malicious Gilliatt."

There is an Indian fable to the effect that one day the god Brahma
inquired of the Spirit of Power, "Who is stronger than thee?" and the
spirit replied "Cunning." A Chinese proverb says, "What could not the
lion do, if he was the monkey also?" Gilliatt was neither the lion nor
the monkey; but his actions gave some evidence of the truth of the
Chinese proverb, and of the Hindoo fable. Although only of ordinary
height and strength, he was enabled, so inventive and powerful was his
dexterity, to lift burdens that might have taxed a giant, and to
accomplish feats which would have done credit to an athlete.

He had in him something of the power of the gymnast. He used, with equal
address, his left hand and his right.

He never carried a gun; bu