CHAPTER I.
THE DURABILITY OF FRAGILE THINGS.
Destiny sometimes proffers us a glass of madness to drink. A hand isthrust out of the mist, and suddenly hands us the mysterious cup inwhich is contained the latent intoxication.
Gwynplaine did not understand.
He looked behind him to see who it was who had been addressed.
A sound may be too sharp to be perceptible to the ear; an emotion tooacute conveys no meaning to the mind. There is a limit to comprehensionas well as to hearing.
The wapentake and the justice of the quorum approached Gwynplaine andtook him by the arms. He felt himself placed in the chair which thesheriff had just vacated. He let it be done, without seeking anexplanation.
When Gwynplaine was seated, the justice of the quorum and the wapentakeretired a few steps, and stood upright and motionless, behind the seat.
Then the sheriff placed his bunch of roses on the stone table, put onspectacles which the secretary gave him, drew from the bundles of paperswhich covered the table a sheet of parchment, yellow, green, torn, andjagged in places, which seemed to have been folded in very small folds,and of which one side was covered with writing; standing under the lightof the lamp, he held the sheet close to his eyes, and in his mostsolemn tone read as follows:--
"In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost.
"This present day, the twenty-ninth of January, one thousand six hundredand ninetieth year of our Lord.
"Has been wickedly deserted on the desert coast of Portland, with theintention of allowing him to perish of hunger, of cold, and of solitude,a child ten years old.
"That child was sold at the age of two years, by order of his mostgracious Majesty, King James the Second.
"That child is Lord Fermain Clancharlie, the only legitimate son of LordLinnaeus Clancharlie, Baron Clancharlie and Hunkerville, Marquis ofCorleone in Sicily, a peer of England, and of Ann Bradshaw, his wife,both deceased. That child is the inheritor of the estates and titles ofhis father. For this reason he was sold, mutilated, disfigured, and putout of the way by desire of his most gracious Majesty.
"That child was brought up, and trained to be a mountebank at marketsand fairs.
"He was sold at the age of two, after the death of the peer, his father,and ten pounds sterling were given to the king as his purchase-money, aswell as for divers concessions, tolerations, and immunities.
"Lord Fermain Clancharlie, at the age of two years, was bought by me,the undersigned, who write these lines, and mutilated and disfigured bya Fleming of Flanders, called Hardquanonne, who alone is acquainted withthe secrets and modes of treatment of Doctor Conquest.
"The child was destined by us to be a laughing mask (_masca ridens_).
"With this intention Hardquanonne performed on him the operation, _Buccafissa usque ad aures_, which stamps an everlasting laugh upon the face.
"The child, by means known only to Hardquanonne, was put to sleep andmade insensible during its performance, knowing nothing of the operationwhich he underwent.
"He does not know that he is Lord Clancharlie.
"He answers to the name of Gwynplaine.
"This fact is the result of his youth, and the slight powers of memoryhe could have had when he was bought and sold, being then barely twoyears old.
"Hardquanonne is the only person who knows how to perform the operation_Bucca fissa_, and the said child is the only living subject upon whichit has been essayed.
"The operation is so unique and singular that though after long yearsthis child should have come to be an old man instead of a child, and hisblack locks should have turned white, he would be immediately recognizedby Hardquanonne.
"At the time that I am writing this, Hardquanonne, who has perfectknowledge of all the facts, and participated as principal therein, isdetained in the prisons of his highness the Prince of Orange, commonlycalled King William III. Hardquanonne was apprehended and seized asbeing one of the band of Comprachicos or Cheylas. He is imprisoned inthe dungeon of Chatham.
"It was in Switzerland, near the Lake of Geneva, between Lausanne andVevey, in the very house in which his father and mother died, that thechild was, in obedience with the orders of the king, sold and given upby the last servant of the deceased Lord Linnaeus, which servant diedsoon after his master, so that this secret and delicate matter is nowunknown to any one on earth, excepting Hardquanonne, who is in thedungeon of Chatham, and ourselves, now about to perish.
"We, the undersigned, brought up and kept, for eight years, forprofessional purposes, the little lord bought by us of the king.
"To-day, flying from England to avoid Hardquanonne's ill-fortune, ourfear of the penal indictments, prohibitions, and fulminations ofParliament has induced us to desert, at night-fall, on the coast ofPortland, the said child Gwynplaine, who is Lord Fermain Clancharlie.
"Now, we have sworn secrecy to the king, but not to God.
"To-night, at sea, overtaken by a violent tempest by the will ofProvidence, full of despair and distress, kneeling before Him who couldsave our lives, and may, perhaps, be willing to save our souls, havingnothing more to hope from men, but everything to fear from God, havingfor only anchor and resource repentance of our bad actions, resigned todeath, and content if Divine justice be satisfied, humble, penitent, andbeating our breasts, we make this declaration, and confide and deliverit to the furious ocean to use as it best may according to the will ofGod. And may the Holy Virgin aid us, Amen. And we attach oursignatures."
The sheriff interrupted, saying,--"Here are the signatures. All indifferent handwritings."
And he resumed,--
"Doctor Gernardus Geestemunde.--Asuncion.--A cross, and at the side ofit, Barbara Fermoy, from Tyrryf Isle, in the Hebrides; Gaizdorra,Captain; Giangirate; Jacques Quartourze, alias le Narbonnais; Luc-PierreCapgaroupe, from the galleys of Mahon."
The sheriff, after a pause, resumed, a "note written in the same hand asthe text and the first signature," and he read,--
"Of the three men comprising the crew, the skipper having been swept offby a wave, there remain but two, and we have signed, Galdeazun; AveMaria, Thief."
The sheriff, interspersing his reading with his own observations,continued, "At the bottom of the sheet is written,--
"'At sea, on board of the _Matutina_, Biscay hooker, from the Gulf dePasages.' This sheet," added the sheriff, "is a legal document, bearingthe mark of King James the Second. On the margin of the declaration, andin the same handwriting there is this note, 'The present declaration iswritten by us on the back of the royal order, which was given us as ourreceipt when we bought the child. Turn the leaf and the order will beseen.'"
The sheriff turned the parchment, and raised it in his right hand, toexpose it to the light.
A blank page was seen, if the word blank can be applied to a thing somouldy, and in the middle of the page three words were written, twoLatin words, _Jussu regis_, and a signature, _Jeffreys_.
"_Jussu regis, Jeffreys_," said the sheriff, passing from a grave voiceto a clear one.
Gwynplaine was as a man on whose head a tile falls from the palace ofdreams.
He began to speak, like one who speaks unconsciously.
"Gernardus, yes, the doctor. An old, sad-looking man. I was afraid ofhim. Gaizdorra, Captain, that means chief. There were women, Asuncion,and the other. And then the Provencal. His name was Capgaroupe. He usedto drink out of a flat bottle on which there was a name written in red."
"Behold it," said the sheriff.
He placed on the table something which the secretary had just taken outof the bag. It was a gourd, with handles like ears, covered with wicker.This bottle had evidently seen service, and had sojourned in the water.Shells and seaweed adhered to it. It was encrusted and damascened overwith the rust of ocean. There was a ring of tar round its neck, showingthat it had been hermetically sealed. Now it was unsealed and open. Theyhad, however, replaced in the flask a sort of bung made of tarred oakum,which had been used to cork i
t.
"It was in this bottle," said the sheriff, "that the men about to perishplaced the declaration which I have just read. This message addressed tojustice has been faithfully delivered by the sea."
The sheriff increased the majesty of his tones, and continued,--
"In the same way that Harrow Hill produces excellent wheat, which isturned into fine flour for the royal table, so the sea renders everyservice in its power to England, and when a nobleman is lost finds andrestores him."
Then he resumed,--
"On this flask, as you say, there is a name written in red."
He raised his voice, turning to the motionless prisoner,--
"Your name, malefactor, is here. Such are the hidden channels by whichtruth, swallowed up in the gulf of human actions, floats to thesurface."
The sheriff took the gourd, and turned to the light one of its sides,which had, no doubt, been cleaned for the ends of justice. Between theinterstices of wicker was a narrow line of red reed, blackened here andthere by the action of water and of time.
The reed, notwithstanding some breakages, traced distinctly in thewicker-work these twelve letters--Hardquanonne.
Then the sheriff, resuming that monotonous tone of voice which resemblesnothing else, and which may be termed a judicial accent, turned towardsthe sufferer.
"Hardquanonne! when by us, the sheriff, this bottle, on which is yourname, was for the first time shown, exhibited, and presented to you, youat once, and willingly, recognized it as having belonged to you. Then,the parchment being read to you which was contained, folded and enclosedwithin it, you would say no more; and in the hope, doubtless, that thelost child would never be recovered, and that you would escapepunishment, you refuse to answer. As the result of your refusal, youhave had applied to you the _peine forte et dure_; and the secondreading of the said parchment, on which is written the declaration andconfession of your accomplices, was made to you, but in vain.
"This is the fourth day, and that which is legally set apart for theconfrontation, and he who was deserted on the twenty-ninth of January,one thousand six hundred and ninety, having been brought into yourpresence, your devilish hope has vanished, you have broken silence, andrecognized your victim."
The prisoner opened his eyes, lifted his head, and, with a voicestrangely resonant of agony, but which had still an indescribable calmmingled with its hoarseness, pronounced in excruciating accents, fromunder the mass of stones, words to pronounce each of which he had tolift that which was like the slab of a tomb placed upon him. He spoke,--
"I swore to keep the secret. I have kept it as long as I could. Men ofdark lives are faithful, and hell has its honour. Now silence isuseless. So be it! For this reason I speak. Well--yes; 'tis he! We didit between us--the king and I: the king, by his will; I, by my art!"
And looking at Gwynplaine,--
"Now laugh for ever!"
And he himself began to laugh.
This second laugh, wilder yet than the first, might have been taken fora sob.
The laughed ceased, and the man lay back. His eyelids closed.
The sheriff, who had allowed the prisoner to speak, resumed,--
"All which is placed on record."
He gave the secretary time to write, and then said,--
"Hardquanonne, by the terms of the law, after confrontation followed byidentification, after the third reading of the declarations of youraccomplices, since confirmed by your recognition and confession, andafter your renewed avowal, you are about to be relieved from theseirons, and placed at the good pleasure of her Majesty to be hung as_plagiary_."
"_Plagiary_," said the serjeant of the coif. "That is to say, a buyerand seller of children. Law of the Visigoths, seventh book, thirdsection, paragraph _Usurpaverit_, and Salic law, section theforty-first, paragraph the second, and law of the Frisons, section thetwenty-first, _Deplagio_; and Alexander Nequam says,--
"'_Qui pueros vendis, plagiarius est tibi nomen_.'"
The sheriff placed the parchment on the table, laid down his spectacles,took up the nosegay, and said,--
"End of _la peine forte et dure_. Hardquanonne, thank her Majesty."
By a sign the justice of the quorum set in motion the man dressed inleather.
This man, who was the executioner's assistant, "groom of the gibbet,"the old charters call him, went to the prisoner, took off the stones,one by one, from his chest, and lifted the plate of iron up, exposingthe wretch's crushed sides. Then he freed his wrists and ankle-bonesfrom the four chains that fastened him to the pillars.
The prisoner, released alike from stones and chains, lay flat on theground, his eyes closed, his arms and legs apart, like a crucified mantaken down from a cross.
"Hardquanonne," said the sheriff, "arise!"
The prisoner did not move.
The groom of the gibbet took up a hand and let it go; the hand fellback. The other hand, being raised, fell back likewise.
The groom of the gibbet seized one foot and then the other, and theheels fell back on the ground.
The fingers remained inert, and the toes motionless. The naked feet ofan extended corpse seem, as it were, to bristle.
The doctor approached, and drawing from the pocket of his robe a littlemirror of steel, put it to the open mouth of Hardquanonne. Then with hisfingers he opened the eyelids. They did not close again; the glassyeyeballs remained fixed.
The doctor rose up and said,--
"He is dead."
And he added,--
"He laughed; that killed him."
"'Tis of little consequence," said the sheriff. "After confession, lifeor death is a mere formality."
Then pointing to Hardquanonne by a gesture with the nosegay of roses,the sheriff gave the order to the wapentake,--
"A corpse to be carried away to-night."
The wapentake acquiesced by a nod.
And the sheriff added,--
"The cemetery of the jail is opposite."
The wapentake nodded again.
The sheriff, holding in his left hand the nosegay and in his right thewhite wand, placed himself opposite Gwynplaine, who was still seated,and made him a low bow; then assuming another solemn attitude, he turnedhis head over his shoulder, and looking Gwynplaine in the face, said,--
"To you here present, we Philip Denzill Parsons, knight, sheriff of thecounty of Surrey, assisted by Aubrey Dominick, Esq., our clerk andregistrar, and by our usual officers, duly provided by the direct andspecial commands of her Majesty, in virtue of our commission, and therights and duties of our charge, and with authority from the LordChancellor of England, the affidavits having been drawn up and recorded,regard being had to the documents communicated by the Admiralty, afterverification of attestations and signatures, after declarations read andheard, after confrontation made, all the statements and legalinformation having been completed, exhausted, and brought to a good andjust issue--we signify and declare to you, in order that right may bedone, that you are Fermain Clancharlie, Baron Clancharlie andHunkerville, Marquis de Corleone in Sicily, and a peer of England; andGod keep your lordship!"
And he bowed to him.
The serjeant on the right, the doctor, the justice of the quorum, thewapentake, the secretary, all the attendants except the executioner,repeated his salutation still more respectfully, and bowed to the groundbefore Gwynplaine.
"Ah," said Gwynplaine, "awake me!"
And he stood up, pale as death.
"I come to awake you indeed," said a voice which had not yet been heard.
A man came out from behind the pillars. As no one had entered the cellsince the sheet of iron had given passage to the _cortege_ of police, itwas clear that this man had been there in the shadow before Gwynplainehad entered, that he had a regular right of attendance, and had beenpresent by appointment and mission. The man was fat and pursy, and worea court wig and a travelling cloak.
He was rather old than young, and very precise.
He saluted Gwynplaine with ease and respect--with th
e ease of agentleman-in-waiting, and without the awkwardness of a judge.
"Yes," he said; "I have come to awaken you. For twenty-five years youhave slept. You have been dreaming. It is time to awake. You believeyourself to be Gwynplaine; you are Clancharlie. You believe yourself tobe one of the people; you belong to the peerage. You believe yourself tobe of the lowest rank; you are of the highest. You believe yourself aplayer; you are a senator. You believe yourself poor; you are wealthy.You believe yourself to be of no account; you are important. Awake, mylord!"
Gwynplaine, in a low voice, in which a tremor of fear was to bedistinguished, murmured,--
"What does it all mean?"
"It means, my lord," said the fat man, "that I am called Barkilphedro;that I am an officer of the Admiralty; that this waif, the flask ofHardquanonne, was found on the beach, and was brought to be unsealed byme, according to the duty and prerogative of my office; that I opened itin the presence of two sworn jurors of the Jetsam Office, both membersof Parliament, William Brathwait, for the city of Bath, and ThomasJervois, for Southampton; that the two jurors deciphered and attestedthe contents of the flask, and signed the necessary affidavit conjointlywith me; that I made my report to her Majesty, and by order of the queenall necessary and legal formalities were carried out with the discretionnecessary in a matter so delicate; that the last form, theconfrontation, has just been carried out; that you have L40,000 a year;that you are a peer of the United Kingdom of Great Britain, a legislatorand a judge, a supreme judge, a sovereign legislator, dressed in purpleand ermine, equal to princes, like unto emperors; that you have on yourbrow the coronet of a peer, and that you are about to wed a duchess, thedaughter of a king."
Under this transfiguration, overwhelming him like a series ofthunderbolts, Gwynplaine fainted.