would you have made use of this magic oil for the muskets, Luquin?”
“Without doubt, the day that my guns would not go off, I would have given all the oil which burns in the eternal lamp of the Chapel of Notre Dame de la Garde, for one drop of this oil with the seven grains of salt, and that formidable word ‘Syrakoe’ written on the cover.”
“Why so, Luquin?”
“My artillery was useless, and I wished to board the chebec with a grand reinforcement of musket-shot, but as wicked fate would have it, the arms were below, and the locks of the muskets were rusty; you see, then, Stephanette, if we had arranged the arms on deck, three by three, and had rubbed the musket locks with this magic oil of Syrakoe, we would have been able to resist, and perhaps capture this pirate chebec instead of flying before it, like a cloud of sparrows from a hawk!”
It is easy to see that, under these mysterious and cabalistic formulæ, the watchman on the cape of L’Aigle gave the best practical advice, and endeavoured to restore such nautical precautions and practices as had, through negligence or want of care, fallen into disuse.
The red flies, placed every morning on the balls with a sign of the cross, had no doubt a very negative virtue, but to perform this magical operation, it was necessary to change the charge of the artillery, often damaged by the water of the sea, which swept the deck, and thus the powder was kept dry and the guns ready for use.
The counsel of the watchman, followed exactly, prevented serious disaster, whether it pertained to the oil of Syrakoe, or the cries of “St Magnus,” or the arms arranged three by three on the deck.
In looking steadily toward the east and the south, points of crossing by the pirates, the sentinels of course could give warning of their approach.
In invoking St. Magnus every five minutes, they would not run the risk of sleeping at their posts.
In short, it was important to have always on deck arms in good condition and readiness. The watchman accomplished this by ordering them to be arranged in stacks of three, and carefully rubbed with oil, which would preserve them from the inclemency of the weather.
In formulating his recommendations in cabalistic phrase, he assured the execution of them.
After renewed praises of the watchman’s wisdom, Luquin and Stephanette arrived at Maison-Forte. Notwithstanding her air of gaiety, the young girl’s heart was deeply pained at the thought of her lover’s departure the next morning. Tears flowed down her cheeks; she extended her hand to Trinquetaille, and said, with a trembling voice:
“Good-bye, Luquin, every morning and evening I will pray God to keep you from meeting these wicked pirates. Oh, why do you not abandon this perilous calling, which gives me continual anxiety?”
“I will, when I have gained enough, so that Mlle. Trinquetaille”—only the nobility had the title of madame—“need not envy the richest citizen of La Ciotat.” “How can you talk so, Luquin?” said the young girl, reproachfully, as she wiped the tears from her eyes. “What matters finery and a little more comfort to me, when you are risking your life every day?”
“Do not be distressed, Stephanette, the watchman’s advice shall not be lost: with the help of St. Magnus, and the magic oil of Syrakoe, I can defy all the pirates of the regency. But, good-bye, Stephanette, good-bye, and think of Luquin.”
With these words, the worthy captain pressed Ste-phanette’s white hands, and hurried away, lest he should betray the emotion which filled his heart, as if it were a thing unworthy of him.
The young girl’s eyes followed her lover as long as possible, and at nightfall she entered Maison-Forte, the home of Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez.
CHAPTER VI. MAISON-FORTE
Maison-Forte, or Castle des Anbiez, stood upon the seashore. In the time of storm, the waves beat upon the terrace or rampart which stood out from the shore to protect the entrance into the port of La Ciotat, where were anchored a few fishing-boats, and the pleasure tartan of Raimond V., Baron des Anbiez.
The aspect of the castle presented nothing remarkable. Built in the middle of the fifteenth century, its architecture, or rather its construction, was massive. Two towers with pointed roof flanked the main body of the dwelling exposed to the south, and commanding a view of the sea. Its thick walls, built of sandstone and granite, were of reddish gray colour, and were irregularly cut by a few windows, which resembled loopholes for cannon.
The only framed windows of a gallery, which ran across the entire length of the castle, on the first floor, were large and bowed.
Three of them opened upon a balcony ornamented with a beautiful grating of hammered iron, in the middle of which was carved the baron’s coat of arms. The same coat of arms showed upon the entablature of the principal door.
A short flight of steps descended to the terrace.
The necessities of civil and religious war, at the end of the last century, and the constant fear of pirates, had altered this terrace into an armed and embattled rampart, parallel with the façade of the castle, and joined to the foot of the turrets by two sides of a right angle.
A few old orange-trees with shining leaves testified to the ancient character of this esplanade, once a smiling flower garden, but two sentry-boxes for scouts, a few enclosures for cannon-balls, eight pieces of ordnance, two of which were mounted, and a long, turning culverin showed that Maison-Forte of the Baron des Anbiez was in a good state of defence.
The position of this castle was the more important as the little bay it commanded, as well as the Gulf of La Ciotat, offered the only place where vessels could anchor; the rest of the coast presenting a line of unapproachable rocks.
The façade of the Castle des Anbiez which looked north, and the surrounding land, were very picturesque.
Irregular buildings, added to the principal edifice according to the different requirements of successive proprietors, broke the monotony of its lines.
The stables, dog-kennels, sheepfolds, commons, and lodgings for labourers and farmers, formed the enclosure of an immense court, planted with two rows of sycamores. This court was reached by a drawbridge over a wide and deep ditch.
Every evening this bridge was removed, and a heavy door of oak, strongly supported on the inside, put the little colony in safely for the night.
Every window of these buildings opened upon the court, with the exception of a few dormer windows, solidly protected by iron grating, which looked out upon the plain.
Maison-Forte counted about two hundred persons among its dependents,—servants, farmers, labourers, and shepherds.
Among them were sixty men of from thirty to fifty years, accustomed to the use of arms during the civil wars in which the impetuous baron had taken part. Royalist and Catholic, Raimond V. had always mounted his horse when it was necessary to defend the ancient rights and possessions of Provence against governors or their deputies, for the kings of France were not kings of Provence, but counts.
The intendants of justice or presidents
