Captain Canot; Or, Twenty Years of an African Slaver
their compulsory edict. My reception, therefore, was by no means
cordial. I was told that the proclamation had not prevented the _cook_
from departing; and that I must be content with whatever the master of
the house could toss up for my fare.
A sailor--especially one fresh from the _chateau_ of Brest,--is not
apt to be over nice in the article of cookery, and I readily
accompanied my knight of the rueful countenance to his _table d'hote_,
which I found to be a long oval board, three fourths bare of cloth and
guests, while five human visages clustered around its end.
I took my seat opposite a trim dashing brunette, with the brightest
eyes and rosiest cheeks imaginable. Her face was so healthily
refreshing in the midst of malady and death, that I altogether forgot
the cholera under the charm of her ardent gaze. Next me sat a comical
sort of fellow, who did not delay in scraping an acquaintance, and
jocularly insisted on introducing all the company.
"It's a case of emergency," said the droll, "we have no time to lose
or to stand on the ceremony of fashionable etiquette. Here to-day,
gone to-morrow--is the motto of Marseilles! _Hola!_ _Messieurs_, shall
we not make the most of new acquaintances when they may be so brief?"
I thanked him for his hospitality. I had so little to lose in this
world, either of property or friends, that I feared the cholera quite
as slightly as any of the company. "A thousand thanks," said I,
"Monsieur, for your politeness; I'll bury you to-morrow, if it is the
cholera's pleasure, with ten times more pleasure now that I have had
the honor of an introduction. A fashionable man hardly cares to be
civil to a stranger--even if he happens to be a corpse!"
There was so hearty a cheer at this sally, that, in spite of the
shallow soundings of my purse, I called for a fresh bottle, and
pledged the party in a bumper all round.
"And now," continued my neighbor, "as it may be necessary for some one
of us to write your epitaph in a day or two, or, at least, to send a
message of condolence and sympathy to your friends; pray let us know a
bit of your history, and what the devil brings you to Marseilles when
the cholera thermometer is up to 1000 degrees per diem?"
Very few words were necessary to impart such a name and tale as I
chose to invent for the company's edification. "Santiago Ximenes," and
my tawny skin betokened my nationality and profession, while my
threadbare garments spoke louder than words that I was at suit with
Fortune.
Presently, after a lull in the chat, a dapper little prig of a dandy,
who sat on my left, volunteered to inform me that he was no less a
personage than _le Docteur_ Du Jean, a medical practitioner fresh from
Metropolitan hospitals, who, in a spirit of the loftiest philanthropy,
visited this provincial town at his own expense to succor the poor.
"_C'est une belle dame, notre vis a vis, n'est elle pas mon cher?_"
said he pointing to our patron saint opposite.
I admitted without argument that she was the most charming woman I
ever saw out of Cuba.
"_C'est ma chere amie_," whispered he confidentially in my ear,
strongly emphasizing the word "friend" and nodding very knowingly
towards the lady herself. "At the present moment the dear little
creature is exclusively under my charge and protection, for she is _en
route_ to join her husband, a captain in the army at Algiers; but,
alas! _grace a Dieu_, there's no chance of a transport so long as this
cursed pestilence blockades Marseilles! Do you know the man on your
right?--No! _Bien!_ that's the celebrated S----, the oratorical
advocate about whom the papers rang when Louis Philippe began his
assault on the press. He's on his way to Algiers too, and will be more
successful in liberalizing the Arabs than the French. That old chap
over yonder with the snuffy nose, the snuffy wig, and snuffy coat, is
a grand speculator in horses, on his way to the richest cavalry corps
of the army; and, as for our _maitre d'hotel_ at the head of this
segment, _pauvre diable_, you see what he is without a revelation. The
pestilence has nearly used him up. He sits half the day in his bureau
on the stairs looking for guests who never come, reading the record
which adds no name, cursing the cholera, counting a penitential _ave_
and _pater_ on his rosary, and flying from the despair of silence and
desertion to his pans to stew our wretched fare. _Voila mon cher, la
carte de la table! le Cholera et ses Convives!_"
If there is a creature I detest in the world it is a flippant,
intrusive, voluntary youth who thrusts his conversation and affairs
upon strangers, and makes bold to monopolize their time with his
unasked confidence. Such persons are always silly and vulgar
pretenders; and before Doctor Du Jean got through his description of
the lady, I had already classified him among my particular aversions.
When the doctor nodded so patronizingly to the dame, and spoke of his
friendly protectorate, I thought I saw that the quick-witted woman not
only comprehended his intimation, but denied it by the sudden glance
she gave me from beneath her thin and arching eyebrows. So, when
dinner was over, without saying a word to the doctor, I made a slight
inclination of the head to Madame Duprez, and rising before the other
guests, passed to her side and tendered my arm for a promenade on the
balcony.
"_Mon docteur_," said I as we left the room, "life, you know, is too
short and precarious to suffer a monopoly of such blessings,"--looking
intently into the lady's eyes,--"besides which, we sailors, in
defiance of you landsmen, go in for the most 'perfect freedom of the
seas.'"
Madame Duprez declared I was entirely right; that I was no
pirate.--"Mais, mon capitaine," said the fair one, as she leaned with
a fond pressure on my arm, "I'd have no objection if you were, so that
you'd capture me from that frightful gallipot! Besides, you sailors
are always so gallant towards the ladies, and tell us such delightful
stories, and bring us such charming presents when you come home, and
love us so much while you're in port, because you see so few when you
are away! Now isn't that a delightful _catalogue raisonne_ of
arguments why women should love _les matelots_?"
"Pity then, madame," said I, "that you married a _soldier_."
"Ah!" returned the ready dame, "_I_ didn't;--that was my mother's
match. In France, you know, the old folks marry us; but we take the
liberty to _love_ whomsoever we please!"
"But, what of _Monsieur le capitaine_, in the present instance?"
interrupted I inquiringly.
"Ah! _fi donc!_" said Madame, "what bad taste to speak of an _absent_,
husband when you have the liberty to talk with a _present_ wife!"
In fact, the lovely Helen of this tavern-Troy was the dearest of
coquettes, whose fence of tongue was as beautiful a game of thrust and
parry as I ever saw played with Parisian foils. Du Jean had been
horribly mortified by the contemptuous manner in which the threadbare
Spaniard bore off his imaginary prize; and would probably have
assailed me on the spot, before he knew my temper or quality, had not
the lawyer drawn him aside on a plea of medical advice and given his
inflamed honor time to cool.
But the wit of Madame Duprez was not so satisfied by a single specimen
of our mutual folly, as to allow the surgeon to resume the undisputed
post of _cavaliere serviente_ which he occupied before my arrival. It
was her delight to see us at loggerheads for her favor, and though we
were both aware of her arrant coquetry, neither had moral courage
enough, in that dismal time, to desist from offering the most servile
courtesies. We mined and counter-mined, marched and counter-marched,
deceived and re-deceived, for several days, without material advantage
to either, till, at last, the affair ended in a battle.
The prefecture's bulletin announced at dinner-time twelve hundred
deaths! but, in spite of the horror, or perhaps to drown its memory,
our undiminished party called for several more bottles, and became
uproariously gay.
The conversation took a physiological turn; and gradually the modern
science of phrenology, which was just then becoming fashionable, came
on the carpet. Doctor Du Jean professed familiarity with its
mysteries. Spurzheim, he said, had been his professor in Paris. He
could read our characters on our skulls as if they were written in a
book. Powers, passions, propensities, and even thoughts, could not be
hidden from him;--and, "who dared try his skill?"
"_C'est moi!_" said Madame Duprez, as she drew her chair to the centre
of the room, and accepting the challenge, cast loose her beautiful
hair, which fell in a raven torrent over snowy neck and shoulders,
heightening tenfold every charm of face and figure.
Du Jean was nothing loth to commence his tender manipulation of the
charming head, whose wicked mouth and teasing eyes shot glances of
defiance at me. Several organs were disclosed and explained to the
company; but then came others which he ventured to whisper in her ears
alone, and, as he did so, I noticed that his mouth was pressed rather
deeper than I thought needful among the folds of her heavy locks. I
took the liberty to hint rather jestingly that the doctor "_cut quite
too deep_ with his lips;" but the coquette at once saw my annoyance,
and persisted with malicious delight in making Du Jean whisper--heaven
knows what--in her ear. In fact, she insisted that some of the organs
should be repeated to her three or four times over, while, at each
rehearsal, the doctor grew bolder in his dives among the curls, and
the lady louder and redder in her merriment.
At last, propriety required that the scene should be closed, and no
one knew better than this arch coquette the precise limit of decency's
bounds. Next came the lawyer's cranium; then followed the horse-jockey
and tavern-keeper; and finally, it was _my_ turn to take the stool.
I made every objection I could think of against submitting to
inspection, for I was sure the surgeon had wit enough not to lose so
good a chance of quizzing or ridiculing me; but a whispered word from
Madame forced an assent, with the stipulation that Du Jean should
allow _me_ to examine his skull afterwards, pretending that if he had
studied with Spurzheim, I had learned the science from Gall.
The doctor accepted the terms and began his lecture. First of all my
Jealousy was enormous, and only equalled by my Conceit and Envy. I was
altogether destitute of Love, Friendship, or the Moral sentiments. I
was an immoderate wine-bibber; extremely avaricious; passionate,
revengeful, and blood-thirsty; in fine, I was a monstrous conglomerate
of every thing devilish and dreadful. The first two or three essays of
the doctor amused the company and brought down a round of laughter;
but as he grew coarser and coarser, I saw the increasing disgust of
our comrades by their silence, though I preserved my temper most
admirably till he was done. Then I rose slowly from the seat, and
pointing the doctor silently to the vacant chair,--for I could not
speak with rage,--I took my stand immediately in front of him, gazing
intently into his eyes. The company gathered eagerly round, expecting
I would retaliate wittily, or pay him back in his coin of abuse.
After a minute's pause I regained my power of speech, and inquired
whether the phrenologist was ready. He replied affirmatively;
whereupon my right hand discovered the bump of impudence with a
tremendous slap on his left cheek, while my left hand detected the
organ of blackguardism with equal prominence on his right!
It was natural that this new mode of scientific investigation was as
novel and surprising as it was disagreeable to poor Du Jean; for, in
an instant, we were exchanging blows with intense zeal, and would