and fine pearls!" cried the Gascon, whose eyes sparkled and nostrils dilated, while his hands clinched.
"But I tell you that she is rich enough to buy Martinique and Guadeloupe if she were so pleased," said the captain.
"And old? very old?" asked the Gascon, uneasily.
His informer looked at the other passengers with a questioning air. "What age should you say Blue Beard was?"
"Faith, I do not know," said one.
"All I know," said another, "is that when I came to the colony two years ago she had already had her second husband, and had a third in view, who only lived a year."
"As to her third husband, it is said that he is not dead, but has disappeared," said a third.
"He is certainly dead, however, because Blue Beard has been seen wearing a widow's garb," said a passenger.
"No doubt, no doubt," continued another; "the proof that he is dead is that the parish priest of Macouba was instructed, in the absence of Father Griffen, to say the mass for the dead, for him."
"And it would not be surprising if he had been assassinated," said another.
"Assassinated? by his wife, no doubt?" said still another voice with an emphasis that spoke little in favor of Blue Beard.
"Not by his wife!"
"Ah, ah, that is something new!"
"Not by his wife? and by whom, then?"
"By his enemies in the Barbadoes."
"By the English colonists?"
"Yes, by the English, because he was himself English."
"Is it so, then, sir; the third husband is dead, really dead?" asked the chevalier anxiously.
"Oh, as to being dead—he is that," exclaimed several in chorus.
Croustillac drew a long breath; a moment's thought, and his hopes resumed their audacious flight.
"But the age of Blue Beard?" he persisted.
"Her age—as to that I can satisfy you; she must be anywhere from twenty, yes, that is about it, from twenty to sixty years," said Captain Daniel.
"Then you have not seen her?" said the Gascon, impatient under this raillery.
"Seen her? I? And why the devil should you suppose I had seen Blue Beard?" asked the captain. "Are you mad?"
"Why?"
"Listen, my friends," said the captain to his passengers; "he asks me if I have seen Blue Beard."
The passengers shrugged their shoulders.
"But," continued Croustillac, "what is there astonishing in my question?"
"What is there astonishing?" said the captain.
"Yes."
"Hold; you come from Paris, do you not? and is Paris not much smaller than Martinique?"
"Without doubt."
"Very well; have you seen the executioner at Paris?"
"The executioner? No, but why such a question?"
"Very well; once for all, understand that no one is any more curious to see Blue Beard than to see the executioner, sir. Beside, the house in which she lives is situated in the midst of the wilds of Devil's Cliff, where one does not care to venture. Then an assassin is not an agreeable companion, and Blue Beard has too bad associates."
"Bad associates?" said the chevalier.
"Yes, friends; friends of the heart; not to go into the matter any further, it is a saying that it is not well to encounter them by night on the plain; by night in the woods; or after sunset under the lee of the island," said the captain.
"'Whirlwind'—the filibuster first," said one of the passengers with an affrighted air.
"Or 'Rend the Soul'—the buccaneer of Marie-Galande," said another.
"Or 'Youmäale,' the Caribbean cannibal of the lake of the Caimans," continued a third.
"What?" cried the chevalier, "does Blue Beard coquette at the same time with a filibusterer, a buccaneer, and a cannibal? Bah! what a woman!"
"So they say, sir."
CHAPTER III.
THE ARRIVAL.
These singular revelations concerning the morals of Blue Beard made a great impression upon the chevalier. After some moments of silence he asked the captain, "Who is this man, this filibuster whom they term the Whirlwind?"
"A mulatto from San Domingo, they say," replied Captain Daniel, "one of the most determined filibusters of the Antilles; he has dwelt in Martinique for the past two years, in a solitary house, where he lives now like an alderman."
"And you think that this bully is favored by Blue Beard?"
"They say that all the time that he does not pass at his own house, he is at Devil's Cliff."
"This proves at least that Blue Beard has never loved sentimental swains!" said the chevalier. "Well, but the buccaneer?"
"Faith," cried one of the passengers, "I do not know if I would not rather have the Whirlwind for an enemy than the buccaneer 'Rend-your-soul!'"
"Zounds! there is at least a name which holds possibilities," said Croustillac.
"And which fulfills them," said the passenger, "for him I have seen."
"And is he so terrible?"
"He is certainly as ferocious as the wild boars or the bulls which he hunts. I will tell you about him. It is now about a year since I was going to his ranch in the Great Tari, in the northern part of Martinique, to purchase of him some skins of wild cattle. He was alone with his pack of twenty hounds who looked as wicked and savage as himself. When I arrived he was anointing his face with palm oil, for there was not a portion of it that was not blue, yellow, violet or purple."
"I have had these irridescent shades from a blow on the eye, but——"
"Exactly, sir. I asked him what had caused this, and this is what he told me: 'My hounds, led by my assistant, had flung themselves upon a two-year-old bull; he had passed me, and I had sent a ball into his shoulder; he bounded into a thicket; the dogs followed. While I was reloading, my assistant came up, fired, and missed the bull. My boy, seeing himself disarmed, sought to cut at the bull's legs, but it gored him and stamped him underfoot. Placed as I was, I could not fire at the animal for fear of finishing my man. I took my large buccaneer's knife and threw myself
