Part 72 (2/2)
Peter's Port began to flock there. The resurrection of the Durande caused a commotion in the island not unlike what was caused by the _Salette_ in the south of France. There was a crowd on the quay staring at the funnel standing erect in the sloop. They were anxious to see and handle the machinery; but Lethierry, after making a new and triumphant survey of the whole by daylight, had placed two sailors aboard with instructions to prevent any one approaching it. The funnel, however, furnished food enough for contemplation. The crowd gaped with astonishment. They talked of nothing but Gilliatt. They remarked on his surname of ”malicious Gilliatt;” and their admiration wound up with the remark, ”It is not pleasant to have people in the island who can do things like that.”
Mess Lethierry was seen from outside the house, seated at a table before the window, writing, with one eye on the paper and another on the sloop.
He was so completely absorbed that he had only once stopped to call Douce and ask after Deruchette. Douce replied, ”Mademoiselle has risen and is gone out.” Mess Lethierry replied, ”She is right to take the air.
She was a little unwell last night, owing to the heat. There was a crowd in the room. This and her surprise and joy, and the windows being all closed, overcame her. She will have a husband to be proud of.” And he had gone on with his writing. He had already finished and sealed two letters, addressed to the most important s.h.i.+pbuilders at Breme. He now finished the sealing of a third.
The noise of a wheel upon the quay induced him to look up. He leaned out of the window, and observed coming from the path which led to the Bu de la Rue a boy pus.h.i.+ng a wheelbarrow. The boy was going towards St.
Peter's Port. In the barrow was a portmanteau of brown leather, studded with nails of bra.s.s and white metal.
Mess Lethierry called to the boy:
”Where are you going, my lad?”
The boy stopped, and replied:
”To the _Cashmere_.”
”What for?”
”To take this trunk aboard.”
”Very good; you shall take these three letters too.”
Mess Lethierry opened the drawer of his table, took a piece of string, tied the three letters which he had just written across and across, and threw the packet to the boy, who caught it between his hands.
”Tell the captain of the _Cashmere_ they are my letters, and to take care of them. They are for Germany--Breme _via_ London.”
”I can't speak to the captain, Mess Lethierry.”
”Why not?”
”The _Cashmere_ is not at the quay.”
”Ah!”
”She is in the roads.”
”Ay, true; on account of the sea.”
”I can only speak to the man who takes the things aboard.”
”You will tell him, then, to look to the letters.”
”Very well, Mess Lethierry.”
”At what time does the _Cashmere_ sail?”
”At twelve.”
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