LOUIS VERNON

Tuapeka Times, Volume XVIII, Issue 1162, 15 July 1885, Page 3

LOUIS VERNON

Bt F. A. J. Dk Conde.

(A TALE OF TUB FIKST EMPIRE.)

Chapter XI. — Release at last. In due course the crew of the La Blanche secured many prizes from among the heaving monsters of the deep. And in pursuit of their noble game the good ship cruised in many climes from the equator to tho Polar Seas, till at lasfsho touched the New Zealand coast, where whales were known to abound. From the sounds of the West Coast of Otago,she worked her way to the East Coast of Otago, and after sailing about for a few days she set out for the Chatham Islands. A ifresh breeze from the westward carried her 1 rapidly, under a good pressure of sail, to the eastward, and in a f ow days she was safe at anchor in Whaingaroa Bay. Whales in great numbers were seen sporting in the bay, and the remaining empty barrels were filled up. The crew were on most friendly terms with the j natives, who visited the ship in hundreds, and soon became far too familiar. They bartered with them hatchets, knives, and clothing, for pigs, dried fish, and potatoes ; and all went well, no one for a moment suspecting the awful tragedy that was to take place before the ship again set sail. The ship was loaded up and ready to sail, with the exception of a further supply of fresh water and firewood for the homeward voyage. This was to be taken on board at the earliest opportunity, and they were to begin the return voyage with the first favorable wind. Tho sailors had worked with a will for the last few days, and already they felt the joy of anticipated meetings with friends at Home. They chatted and joked with each other, and all seemed full of bright hope — all except Louis Vernon. He looked gloomy and melancholy. Home had no sacred charms for him. There, no fond mother waited with outstretched arms to receive him back to the family circle ; no loving sister to kiss his brow, or brother to wring his hand with undissembling love. Nothing but the undying torture of an undying heartache was in store for him in the land of his birth. The knowledge that he stood on the free soil of France would recall .early associations, and open up anew those wounds that death alone could heal.

The sun was setting in the west, encircled in amber and gold, while old ocean's bosom glittered beneath his parting rays, like a pathway of sapphire. On the morrow, should there be any wind at all, the La Blanche was to weigh anchor, and unfurl her sails to the favoring breezes, to seek again the fair land of Prance. The sailors were all excitement and in splendid spirits, except Louis, who kept away from his companions in their merriment, and gazed reflectively into vacancy. During the evening he sought a private interview with Tom Jenkins.

" Mon ami," began Louis, when they had seated themselves beyond the hearing of their shipmates, " dark bodings haunt me to-night, and I cannot dispel the phantoms that seem to cross my path. Something seems to tell me that my race is nearly run, and often I am startled from a reverie by a gentle voice in my ear saying sweetly, ' Come.' Once only I heard that voice before — on Eussia's dreary plains. I feel that the relentless tyrant claims me, and I fear him not. I go to his embrace as the young child to its mother's bosom.

" Pate has been cruel to me, but I defy it now. Mine has been a chequered life, but there is rest in the grave. Behold tbat glorious moon ! Such was the moon that looked down upon me when my dream of life was scattered to the winds, and I was sent away an outcast from society, and a stranger to Grod.

" But a good angel came to me one weary night, and touched a chord in my heart that long had ceased to vibrate, and since then a loving face is ever smiling upon me in my dreams. I often wake to find the tears upon my cheek, and the impress of a loving kiss hot upon my lips.

" Last night that form was present with me till morn awoke. I felt loving arms around my neck, and a fond kiss touched my brow ; pitying eyes looked into mine, and a gentle voice said, ' Weary one, come.'

" Ah, my heart was sad when I awoke to find that I was here yet. But methinks it cannot be long ere I go to dwell with that guardian angel. There are feelings in my breast to-night that I have never known before."

Then, turning his eyes heavenward with clasped hands, he exclaimed, " Oh ! Thou who rulest on high, if it be not yet too late, for the sake of Thy dear Son, pardon a penitent sinner." Turning again to Tom, he continued, " A.h, my comrade it is hard to tread the paths of sin, as I have done. I have too long defied the good, great G-od, and I scarce dare ask for mercy now. Oh ! that I could tell you what I feel, but language cannot express the deep, strange emotions that cause my bosom to vibrate now. I ask of you one boon to-night. Take this letter, and keep it safely for me till you reach the land of my birth — I shall never see it more — and send it to the one whose name is on the cover. Do not take off the outer cover while I live, but when I am no more you may do so."

"But Louis," replied Tom, "why do you allow your feelings to gain the mastery of you thus? You are sensitive and impressionable, but you are also brave : then do not give way to ominous feelings— dash them aside, and hope will gain return." "It cannot be. Alas ! no. Something tells me that I shall never again behold that lovely, bright orb of night,

whose rays illuminate the surface of the ocean and trace out a pathway of living sheen. That pathway is mine to the tomb. Ah ! may it bo as bright and glorious. You will promise me to i forward my letter to its destination faithfully ?" " I promise." " Thank you dear comrade ; and now good night, and may G-od bless you ] always." Next morning the sun was shining all-glorious and resplendent, giving fair promise of a joyous day. But, alas, for human anticipations ! Long ere that day had closed brave hearts had | ceased to beat, and planning, thinking minds had ceased to think for ever. ! As the morning was very calm, the captain sent two boats ashore to procure a little more firewood and water for the return voyage. He told the men to return as quickly as they could, for he expected a breeze to spring up as the day advanced. The men took a quantity of liquor ashore with them to give to those the natives who chose to lend a helping hand. The old chief drank freely of the spirit, and it fired his brain, and kindled the rude passions in his breast which had Jong lain dormant. A goodly number of his warriors were sitting around him, all armed with their clubs and spears. Scarcely any of the sailors were armed. A few of them had brought guns, but, unfortunately, loft them in the boats, as they little suspected any trouble with the savages. Louis, who was in charge of the party, fully believing in his ominous bodings, buckled on his sword ere he left the ship. Tom had work to do on board, consequently he , did not leave the ship. | When the boats were nearly ready for the return trip, one of the sailors in a frolic caught hold of a s young woman, who happened to be the chief's ! youngest wife. Instantly the hoary ! old fiend sprang to his feet, and transfixed the man with his spear, and before the sailors could look around them, they were surrounded and their retreat cut off. A body of savages rushed towards the boats and took possession of them. Then ensued a terrible scene. The French sailors fought with that courage which is born of despair, with axes and such other weapons as they could procure; but the odds against them were too great to leave any hopeß of victory. Armed only with axes and knives, ; and even sticks, the devoted men made a bold stand against their cruel enemy. Many a black demon fell to earth with his skull cloven by an axe, or his brains scattered by a blow from a club. The sailors formed a circle, back to back, and fought facing the enemy. On every side the bloodthirsty savages closed in upon them, with exultant yells of fiendish triumph. Man after man the sailors fell beneath the blows of gory clubs, and thrust through with cruel spears. The last to fall of this brave band was Louis Vernon. He plied his weapon with the dexterity of an expert swordsman, and dealt blows of death around him fast and thick — but in vain. His left arm was almost severed from his shoulder by a blow i from an axe, and a spear had pierced his thigh, but he still fought on with proud defiant daring. Eeeling from exhaustion, and faint from pain and loss of blood, he sank to earth. With fearful yells the bloody, clubs decended upon that faithful brow, and gory spears hushed for ever that throbbing heart. [Some of the crew of a French whaling ship were massacred at the Chatham Islands, and a French man-of-war was afterwards sent to punish the natives, which they did in a drastic fashion.]

And thus died Louis Vernon. That noble, spiritual brow, which reflected the soul that burned behind, no longer bears the impress of its Maker's handiwork. No sacred spot shall mark the grave where our young hero sleeps. No gentle hands shall train the flowers above his lonely head, and no fair one shall heave a sigh above his resting place. But the poor body will be torn and mangled by cruel savages. It matters not ; the spirit has fled. It no longer desires to inhabit its tenement of clay. What matter though the prison-house of the soul be laid in costly tomb — even though a pyramid be built to enclose it — when the immortal soul has departed ?

That brave band of heroes vanquished, the insatiate demons manned their canoes, and hastened towards the ship. The captain, who had witnessed through the ship's long glass the fearful scene on shore, well knew that resistance would be vain. He knew that his men too would soon be overpowered by sheer force of numbers. Accordingly he gave the order to slip the cable, and make sail with all speed. The order was carried into effect as soon as the diminished crew could complete it. A light breeze was blowing, and as soon as the ship could be got under way she bore away before it. But not before there was need, for by the time her sails were fairly filled the savages were within, two hundred yards of her.

They now redoubled their efforts to reach the ship, and as they saw the distance gradually lessen they yelled triumphantly. The sailors, urged by the imminent peril, used super-human efforts to crowd on sail. Sail after sail filled to the breeze, and the good ship began to hold her own, with the bloodthirsty savages one canoe length from her stern.

The crew of the ship could see the hideous faces of their pursuers, and their very flesh seemed to creep at the contemplation thereof. A demon look was on each black face. Cannibal teeth glistened keen and white, and gloating eyes shone with a horrible glare. For a short space of time the fate of the crew hung in the balance. Each man stood at his place, now that

every sail was set, and all was done that man could do, pale and resigned, but determined to do or die.

Tom Jenkins stood leaning over the bulwarks, watching the approaching canoes, with a dark -frown on his brow, which spoke of vengeance. From the inner depths of his secret soul he vowed to be avenged of Louis' death. He bit his lip with grief and rage, while in his hand he clutchod a hatchet, with which he meant to brain the first black demon who set foot on board the La Blanche.

With fearful yells the savages strained every nerve, and the prow of the foremost canoe was almost at the ship's stern. Another' moment and the ship would be boarded, and then all would be over. Pale; but calm, the good captain stood on the poop of his ship and encouraged his men, who now gave way to blank despair — except Tom Jenkins, who was leaning over the rail mocking and jeering at the horrible demons who in another moment would drink his blood.

A paddle snapped in the leading canoe, and a fierce cry of baffled rage broke from the incarnate fiends, who were draining their very heart's blood to reach their prey. At the same moment a stronger breeze filled the sails, and the ship surged ahead from the enemy. Completely exhausted, the savages let the paddles fall from their hands, and threw themselves down in the bottoms of their canoes. The breeze freshened rapidly, and the good ship was soon out on the bounding ocean, far beyond the reach of the savage cannibals.