In Search of Mademoiselle
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Gibbs George. In Search of Mademoiselle
CHAPTER I. OF MY MEETING WITH MASTER HOOPER
CHAPTER II. OF THE TAKING OF THE CRISTOBAL
CHAPTER III. MADEMOISELLE
CHAPTER IV. OF MY BOUT WITH DE BAÇAN
CHAPTER V. DIEPPE
CHAPTER VI. IN WHICH I LEARN SOMETHING
CHAPTER VII. IN WHICH I FIND NEW EMPLOYMENT
CHAPTER VIII. WE REACH THE NEW LAND
CHAPTER IX. WE PUT TO SEA
CHAPTER X. THE HERICANO
CHAPTER XI. WHAT BEFELL US UPON THE SAND-SPIT
CHAPTER XII. TRUCE
CHAPTER XIII. THE LINE UPON THE SAND
CHAPTER XIV. THE MARTYRDOM
CHAPTER XV. THE LODGE OF SELOY
CHAPTER XVI. OF OUR ESCAPE
CHAPTER XVII. IN WHICH WE JOURNEY TO PARIS
CHAPTER XVIII. THE POET KING
CHAPTER XIX. I MEET THE AVENGER
CHAPTER XX. WE SET FORTH AGAIN
CHAPTER XXI. WE FORM AN ALLIANCE
CHAPTER XXII. OLOTORACA
CHAPTER XXIII. THE MOON-PRINCESS
CHAPTER XXIV. WE ADVANCE
CHAPTER XXV. THE DEATH OF THE WOLF
CHAPTER XXVI. AND LAST
Отрывок из книги
It has ever been my notion that apology is designed to conceal a purpose rather than to express it; that excuse is not contrition but only self-esteem. Therefore it seems ill-fitting to begin my narration thus, especially as there are many Spaniards who will say that I lie in all that I have written. But this will matter little to me, for I have had good confirmation in the writings of their own priests and chroniclers. Before many years are gone, I will rest peaceful in the churchyard at Tavistock and the ranting of any person, of whatever creed will avail little to disturb my bones. I shall die believing in God Almighty; that is enough for me.
These blind fanatics think themselves privileged to commit any crime in His name. They speak of God as though they owned Him; as though none other were in a position even to think of Him with any understanding. But indeed there is little to choose between the madmen of any races. Twenty years have barely passed since Thomas Cobham sewed eight and forty Spaniards in their own mainsail and cast them overboard. Not long agone certain English soldiers in Mexico filled a Jesuit priest with gunpowder, blowing him to pieces.
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I listened to this secret of state with eyes agog. Master Hooper paused in his talk long enough to drain his pot, which he set down abruptly upon the table.
“Come, Sydney,” said he with a smile, and stretching both hands toward me, “what say ye to a voyage with David Hooper for a shipmate, in a bottom staunch from batts-end to keelson, the wind and seas for servants, and never a doubt but that to-morrow will be better than yesterday! Or perhaps the gruntings of the swine at Tavistock hold newer charms? What say ye?”
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