The next day the renegade commenced his fourth voyage in the following words.

FOURTH VOYAGE OF HUCKABACK.

Your highness may imagine, that I ought to have been pretty well tired of going to sea, after so many mishaps; but there is a restlessness attending a person who has once been a rover, that drives him from comfort and affluence in possession, to seek variety through danger and difficulty in perspective.  Yet I cannot say that it was my case in the present instance, for I was forced to embark against my inclination.  I had travelled through France to Marseilles, with a small sum of money presented me by the captain of the ship who gave me a passage home, for I could no longer bear the idea of not again seeing my father, if he was alive; and I felt no apprehensions from the circumstance of the lady abbess, as I knew how soon every thing in this world is forgotten, and that I was so altered from time and hardship, that I was not likely to be recognised.

On my arrival at my native city, I proceeded to the well-known shop, where I had been accustomed to exercise my talents, under my father’s superintendence.  The pole was extended from the door, the basin still turned round in obedience to the wind; but when I entered the shop, which was crowded with people (for it was Saturday afternoon), I perceived that all the operators were unknown to me, and that my father was not there.  One of the expectants, who waited his turn, politely made room for me beside him on the bench, and I had time to look about me before I made any interrogations.

The shop had been newly painted, a looking-glass of considerable dimensions had been added, and the whole wore the appearance of a more thriving establishment.

“You are a stranger, Monsieur?” observed my neighbour.

“I am,” replied I; “but I have been at Marseilles before, and when I was last here I used to frequent this shop.  There was a short stout man who was at the head of it, but I do not recollect his name.”

“Oh ­Monsieur Maurepas.  He is dead; he died about two months since.”

“And what has become of his family?”

“He had but one son, who had an intrigue with the daughter of an old officer in this town, and was obliged to leave it.  No one has heard of him since:  he is supposed to have been lost at sea, as the vessel in which he embarked never arrived at the port to which she was bound.  The old man died worth money, and there is a law-suit for his property now carried on between two distant relations.”

“What became of the lady you were speaking of?”

“She retired to a convent, not three miles off, and is since dead.  There was some mystery about the abbess, and she was supposed to be able to explain it.  I believe she was pronounced ‘contumacious’ by the Inquisition, and put into prison, where she died from the severity of her treatment.”

My heart smote me when I heard this.  The poor girl had endured all this severity on my account, and was faithful even to the last.  I fell into a reverie of most painful feelings.  Cerise, too, whose fate I had before ascertained when I was at Toulouse ­Dear, dear Cerise!

“I tell you again, Huckaback, I wish to have no more of Cerise,” cried the pacha.  “She is dead, and there’s an end of her.”

The information that I received made me doubtful how to proceed; I could easily prove my identity, but I had a degree of apprehension that I might be catechised in such a manner as to raise suspicions.  At the same time without a you in the world, I did not much like the idea of abandoning all claim to my father’s property.  I had formerly dressed the peruke of an elderly gentleman who practised in the law, and with whom I was a great favourite.  Although five years had elapsed since I first ran away from my father, I thought it very likely that he might be still alive.  I resolved to call at his house.  When I knocked and asked if he was at home, the girl who opened the door replied in the affirmative, and I was shown into the same little study, littered with papers, into which I formerly used to bring him his peruke.

“Your pleasure, sir?” inquired the old man, peering at me through his spectacles.

“I wish,” replied I, “to ask your opinion relative to a disputed succession.”

“What is the property?”

“That of Monsieur Maurepas, who died some short time since.”

“What, have we another claimant?  If so, as I am employed by one party already, you must go elsewhere.  I wish Francois would make his appearance and claim his own, poor fellow.”

Delighted to find that the old gentleman had still a regard for me, I made no scruple of making myself known.

“I am Francois, sir,” replied I.

The old gentleman rose from his seat, and coming close to me, looked at me earnestly in the face.  After a minute’s scrutiny,

“Well ­I do believe you are; and pray, sir, where have you been all this while?”

“That’s what I cannot very well tell, but I have seen and suffered much.”

“But that’s what you must tell, if you wish to obtain your property ­that is to say, you must tell me.  Don’t be afraid, Francois:  it is a part of our profession to be confidants to strange secrets, and I think there are many locked up in this breast of more importance than any which you can disclose.”

“But, sir, if my life is concerned.”

“What then ­your life will be safe.  If I told all I knew, I could hang half Marseilles.  But laying my professional duty aside, I wish you well; so now sit down, and let me hear your narrative.”

I felt that I could confide in my old acquaintance, and I therefore commenced a detail of my adventures.  When I stated my being wrecked near Marseilles, he interrupted me, laughing ­

“And you were the holy abbess?”

“I was.”

“Well, I thought I recollected your face, when I came with the rest of the Tom Fools to pay my respects to you:  and when it was whispered that a man had personified the holy abbess, I said to myself,’that it was either Francois or the devil, ’but I never mentioned my suspicions.”

When I had finished my narrative, he observed, “Now, Francois, there will be some risk of proving your identity in a court of justice, which the other parties will insist upon.  What I should advise you to do, is, to compromise with the party that employs me.  Make over to him a conveyance of all the property, on condition of your receiving one half, or more if we can get it.  I will represent you as a careless young man, anxious to obtain money and spend it.  If he agrees, you will obtain a good round sum without risk, and I shall oblige both my clients, which is always my endeavour.”

I agreed to the good sense of the proposal, and my old friend advanced me some louis to enable me to improve my appearance.  Advising me not to show myself too much, he offered me a bed at his house.  I left him to procure a more decent wardrobe; and for better disguise, fitted myself with an officer’s undress suit, and having purchased a few other necessaries, returned to his house.

“Well, upon my honour, you do justice to your dress.  I don’t wonder at Mademoiselle de Fonseca falling in love with you.  That is a sad story though ­I don’t know whether I ought to trust you with my housekeeper, for she is very young and very pretty.  Promise me, on your honour, that you will not make love to the poor girl, for I have an affection for her, and will not have her added to your list of broken hearts.”

“Mention it not, I beg, sir,” replied I, mournfully; “my heart is dead and buried with her whose name I have just mentioned.”

“Well, then, go up stairs and introduce yourself.  I have people waiting in the next room.”

I obeyed his directions, and when I entered the parlour above, perceived a youthful figure working at her needle, with her back towards me.  She turned her head at my approach ­what was my amazement, what was my delight, when I beheld Cerise!

“Holy prophet,” exclaimed the pacha, “is that woman come to life again?”

“She was never dead, your highness, and will occupy your attention more than once, if I am to proceed with my voyages.”

“But I hope there will be no more love scenes.”

“Only the present one, your highness:  for after that we were married.”

Cerise looked at me for one moment, screamed, and fell lifeless on the floor.  I caught her in my arms, and as she lay senseless, called her by her name, and imprinted a hundred kisses on her lips.

The noise had alarmed the old gentleman, who unobserved by me, came in, and witnessed the scene.  “Upon my honour, sir, considering your promise to me just now, you are making rather free.”

“’Tis Cerise, my dear sir ­Cerise!”

“Cerise de Fonseca?”

“Yes, the same, the dear girl whom I have ever lamented.”

“Upon my soul, Mr Francois, you’ve a talent for adventures,” said the old gentleman, leaving the room, and returning with a tumbler of water.  Cerise was soon restored, and lay trembling in my arms.  Our old friend, who considered that he was ‘de trop,’ quitted the room, and left us together.

I will not dwell upon a scene which can have no charms to those, who, like your highness, buy love ready made; I shall therefore narrate the history of Cerise, which at my request was imparted, previous to her receiving a similar confidence on my part.

“Allow me to observe, Felix (or what is your name, you impostor?"), said Cerise, half reproachfully, and half in jest.

“My name is Francois.”

“Well, then, Francois; but I never shall like that name so well as Felix, for it was to Felix that ­but there’s nothing in a name after all ­except that the first is engraven on my heart, and cannot be effaced.  But let me tell my story, and allow me to commence with an observation, which my acquaintance with you, and subsequent reflections, have deeply impressed upon my mind.  It unfortunately happens, that those who are highest in rank, in this world, pay dearly for it in a point upon which almost all the real happiness of life consists.  I mean in the choice of the partner with whom they are destined to walk the pilgrimage of life hand in hand; and the higher their rank, the more strictly are they debarred from making a selection, which the meanest peasant can enjoy without control.

“A king has no choice, he must submit to the wishes of his subjects, and the interests of his country.  The aristocracy in our country are little better off, at least the female part of it, for they are dragged from convents to the altar, and offered up as a sacrifice to family connection At the time that we were, or were supposed to be (for as yet it is a mystery to me), assisted by you on the road ­”

“In one point not a supposition certainly, my Cerise, for I took off my only garment to cover you.”

“You did ­you did ­I think I see you now, leaving the side of the chariot; I loved you from that moment ­but to continue:  I was then going down to the chateau, to be introduced to my future husband, whom I had never seen, although the affair had been long arranged.

“My father had no idea that any harm could result from a few days’ acquaintance; and he felt too grateful to forbid you the house; but he little knew how situation and opportunity will overcome time; and I knew more of you in a few days than I thought I could have known of any man in so many years.  That I loved you ­loved you dearly ­you know well.

“But to proceed:  (nay, don’t kiss me so, or I shall never tell my story).  The next morning I heard that you had gone, as you had told me it was your intention; but my father’s horse did not come back ­my father was grave, and the bishop more gloomy than usual.  Two days afterwards I was informed by my father that you were an impostor, that all had been discovered, and that if taken you would probably be seized by the Inquisition; but you had fled the country, and were supposed to have embarked at Toulon.  He added, that my intended husband would arrive in a few days.

“I considered all that he had told me, and I formed the following conclusions: ­first, that you were not the person that you described yourself to be; and, secondly, that he had discovered our attachment, and had insisted upon your not re-appearing ­but that you had deserted me, and left the country, I knew, after what had passed, to be impossible.  But whether you were Monsieur de Rouille or not, you were all I coveted, and all that I adored; and I vowed that for you I would live or die.  I felt assured that one day or another, you would come back, and that conviction supported me.  My future husband appeared ­he was odious.  The time fixed for our wedding drew nigh ­I had but one resource, which was flight.  A young girl who attended me (you recollect her, she came and told us the bishop was coming, when we were in the garden), I knew to be attached to me.  I took her in confidence, and through her means I obtained a peasant’s dress, with the promise of shelter in her father’s cottage, some leagues distant.  The night before the marriage was to take place, I ran down to the river that flows past the chateau, threw my bonnet and shawl on the bank, and then made my escape to where her father was waiting to receive me, in a cart which he had provided as a conveyance.  The girl, who was left, managed admirably:  it was supposed that I had drowned myself, and as they had no further occasion for her services, she was dismissed, and joined me at her father’s cottage.  I remained there for more than a year, when I thought it advisable to move, and come to Marseilles, where I obtained the situation of housekeeper to this old gentleman, who has treated me more like a daughter than a domestic.  Now, Mr Francois, can you give so good an account of yourself?”

“Not quite, Cerise; but I can honestly declare, that when I thought you alive, I never forgot you, and believing you dead, I never ceased to lament you, nor have I looked at a woman since.  Our old friend below can prove it, by my answer when he cautioned me against the charms of his housekeeper.”

I did not, your highness, tell the whole truth to Cerise; for I have always considered it perfectly justifiable to retain facts which cannot add to people’s happiness.  I declared that I left her because my life would have been forfeited if I had remained, and I valued it only for her sake.  That I always intended to return, and when I quitted Valencia, and had become a man of property, I immediately proceeded to make inquiries, and heard the news of her death.  Neither did I acquaint her with the profession which I had followed; I merely stated that my father was a man of eminence, and that he had died rich ­for although people of good family will sometimes bow to love, taking the risk of high or low birth, they are always mortified when they discover that their ticket in the lottery has turned up a blank.

Cerise was satisfied ­we renewed our vows ­and the old gentleman, who declared that of all the secrets in his possession ours would be the most dangerous to him if discovered, was not sorry to see us united, and quit the house.

I obtained two-thirds of my fortune from the claimant, and with it and my wife repaired to Toulon.

For one year I enjoyed uninterrupted happiness.  My wife was everything to me, and so far from leaving her in search of variety, I could not bear to go out of the house unless she accompanied me:  but we were living much too fast, and at the end of the year I found one-third of my property had been spent.  My affection would not permit me to reduce my wife to beggary, and I determined to take some measures to secure the means of future existence.  Consulting her on the occasion, with many tears Cerise acknowledged my prudence, and having divided the remainder of my property, one half of which I laid out in merchandise, and the other I gave to her, for her support during my absence, I embarked on board of a vessel bound to the West Indies.

We made the islands without any accident, and I was extremely successful in my speculations; I began to think that fortune was tired of persecuting me, but knowing how treacherous she was, I shipped one half of my return cargo in another vessel, that I might have more than one chance.

When our captain was ready to sail, the passengers repaired on board, and amongst others a rich old gentleman who had come from Mexico, and who had been waiting for a passage home to France.  He was very ill when he came on board, and I recommended his losing a little blood, offering my services on the occasion.  They were accepted; the old gentleman recovered, and we were very intimate afterwards.  We had been about a fortnight clear of the island, when a hurricane came on, the equal to which in force I never beheld.  The sea was one sheet of foam, the air was loaded with spray, which was thrown with such violence against our faces that we were blinded; and the wind blew so strong that no one could stand up against it.  The vessel was thrown on her beam ends, and we all gave ourselves up for lost.  Fortunately the masts went by the board, and the ship righted.  But when the hurricane abated, we were in an awkward predicament; the spare spars had been washed overboard, and we had no means of rigging jury-masts and making sail.  There we lay rolling in a perfect calm which succeeded, and drifting to the northward by the influence of what is called the Gulf Stream.

One morning, as we were anxiously looking out for a vessel, we perceived something at a distance, but could not ascertain what it was.

At first we imagined that it was several casks floating, which had been thrown overboard, or had forced their way out of the hold of some vessel which had foundered at sea.  But at last we discovered that it was an enormous serpent, coming directly on towards the vessel, at the rate of fifteen or twenty miles an hour.  As it approached, we perceived to our horror, that it was about a hundred feet long, and as thick as the main-mast of a seventy-four; it occasionally reared its head many feet above the surface, and then plunging it down again continued its rapid course.  When it neared us to within a mile, we were so alarmed that we all ran down below.  The animal came to the ship, and rearing its body more than half way out of the water, so that if our masts had been standing, his head would have been as high as our topsail-yards, looked down on deck.  He then lowered his great diamond-shaped head, and thrusting it down the hatchway, seized one of the men in his teeth, plunged into the sea and disappeared.

We were all horror-struck, for we expected his reappearance, and had no means of securing ourselves below, every grating and skylight having been washed overboard in the hurricane.  The old gentleman was more alarmed than the rest.  He sent for me and said,

“I did look forward to once more seeing my relations in France, but that hope is now abandoned.  My name is Fonseca, I am a younger brother of a noble family of that name, and I intended, if not to enrich my brother, at least to endow his daughter with the wealth I have brought with me.  Should my fears be verified, I trust to your honour for the performance of my request.  It is, to deliver this casket, which is of great value, into the hand of either one or the other.  Here is a letter with their address, and here is the key; the remainder of my property on board, if saved, in case of my death, is yours, and here is a voucher for you to show in case of necessity.”

I took the casket, but did not tell him that I was the husband of his niece ­as he might have disinherited her for having married so much below her rank in life.  The old gentleman was right in his supposition, the serpent returned in the afternoon, and seizing him as he had the sailor, in the morning, again, plunged into the sea; and so he continued bearing two or three off every day, until I was the only one left.  On the eighth day he had taken off the last but me, and I knew that my fate must be decided in the evening; for large as he was, he could penetrate every part of the ship, and could draw you to him, when you were many feet distant, by sucking in his breath.

There happened to be two casks, of a material lately invented in England, which we were taking to France on trial; during the hurricane, one had burst, and the stench proceeding from it was intolerable.  Although it had gradually evaporated, I perceived that whenever the serpent approached any thing that had been defiled with it, he immediately turned away, as if the smell was as unbearable to him as it was to us.  I don’t know what it was composed of, but the English called it coal tar.  It struck me that I might save myself my means of this offensive composition.  I knocked out the head of the remaining cask, and arming myself with a broom dipped in it, I jumped into the cask which contained the remainder, and awaited my fate with anxiety.  The serpent came; as usual, forced his head and part of his body down the hatchway, perceived me, and with eyes darting fire reached out his head to seize me.  I dashed the broom into his mouth, and bobbed my head immediately under the coal tar.  When I lifted it up again, almost suffocated, the animal had disappeared.  I crawled out, and looking over the side, perceived him lashing the ocean in his fury, plunging and diving to rid himself of the composition with which I had filled his mouth.  After exhausting himself with his furious endeavours, he went down, and I saw him no more.

“Did you never see him again?” inquired the pacha.

“Never but that once; nor has the animal been seen before or since, except by the Americans, who have much better eyes than the people of Europe can boast of.”

The vessel drifted to the northward with the Gulf Stream, until she was close to the land, when a pilot boat came out and boarded her.  The people belonging to her were much annoyed to find me on board.  Had there been no one in her, they would have claimed the whole vessel and cargo, whereas they were now only entitled to one-eighth.  I understood English enough to hear them propose and agree to throw me overboard.  I immediately ran down below to secure my casket, and when I returned on deck, they launched me over the side.  I sank down, and diving under the counter, laid hold of the rudder chains, unperceived by them.  In the meantime another pilot boat came to us, and sent her boat or board; I swam to it and was hauled in.  The captains being rivals, I was taken to New York as evidence against the people who had attempted my life.  I stayed there just long enough to sell my seven-eighths of the cargo, and see the men hung, and I then took a passage in a vessel bound to Bourdeaux, where I arrived in safety.  From thence I repaired to Toulon, and found my dear Cerise as beautiful and as fond as ever.

I was now a rich man; I bought a large estate, with a marquisate attached to it.  I also purchased the chateau of Fonseca, and made a gift of it to my dear wife.  I was pleased at having the means of raising her again to that rank in society, which she had quitted for my sake.  For some years we lived happily, although we had no children.  After that, events happened which again sent me to sea.  Such, your highness, is the history of my Fourth Voyage.

“Well,” observed the pacha, “I never heard of so large a snake before; did you, Mustapha?”

“Never, your highness; but travellers see strange things.  What is to be the extent of your highness’ bounty?”

“Give him ten pieces of gold,” said the pacha, rising from the throne, and waddling behind the curtain.

Mustapha told out the sequins.  “Selim, if I might advise you, it would please his highness better, if you continued more at sea, and dealt a little more in the marvellous.  That wife of yours, Cerise, as you call her, is rather a bore.”

“Well, I’ll get rid of her to-morrow; but I can tell you, vizier, that I deserve all my pay, for it’s rather fatiguing work ­besides, my conscience.”

“Holy prophet! hear him ­his conscience! go, hypocrite, drown it in wine to-night, and it will be dead to-morrow; and don’t forget to kill your wife.”

“Allow me to observe, that you Turks have very little taste; nevertheless, I will get rid of her after your own fashion, for she shall go to the bottom of the sea ­Bashem ustun, on my head be it.”