herself sobbing into her brother's arms, who, gently
disengaging her, had a litter prepared for his father, and then,
guided by Madeleine, the procession advanced on its way. An armed
party marched at the head, and in a quarter of an hour the village of
Montreaux was reached. It was entirely deserted. There were fires in
the houses, and lamps lit, and even suppers prepared, but not a living
thing. Even the children and old women on hearing the discharge of
musketry, had fled to a cave where they sometimes took shelter when
the coast-guard was sent in search of them.

The delighted sailors and passengers spread themselves through the
village, took possession of the houses, ate the suppers, and slept in
the beds, taking care, however, to place four sentries in
well-concealed positions, for fear of a surprise. Madeleine, her
father, her brother, the ship's surgeon, and a young lady passenger,
came to the house of old Sandeau, who was put to bed, and his wounds
dressed. He said nothing, but went to sleep, or feigned to do so.

Supper was then put upon the table, and the four persons above
mentioned sat down, for a few minutes in silence. Jacques, the captain
of the East-Indiaman, looked moody and thoughtful. He said not a word.
Suddenly, however, he was roused by hearing the young surgeon of the
_Jeune Sophie_ speak.

'Madeleine,' said he, in a gentle but still much agitated tone of
voice, 'how is it I find you here--you whom I left at St Omer?'

'Is this, then, the Madeleine you so often speak of?' cried the
astonished sailor.

'It is. But speak, my dear friend.'

'Edouard, I am here because yonder is my father, and it is my duty to
be where he is.'

'But why is your father here?' continued the other.

'I am here,' said the old man, fiercely turning round, 'because I am
at war with the world. For a trifling error, I was dismissed the
command of this very _Jeune Sophie_ twelve years ago. I vowed revenge,
and you see the kind of revenge I have selected.'

'Dear father,' said Madeleine gently, 'see what an escape you have
had!'

'Besides,' interposed Jacques, 'there was no occasion for revenge. M.
Ponceau, who had adopted me, searched for you far and wide, to give
you another ship. They dismissed you in a moment of anger. They proved
this, by giving me the command of the _Jeune Sophie_ as soon as I
could be trusted with it.'

'What is done is done,' said Pierre, 'and I am a wrecker! I have done
wrong, but I am