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Updated: May 15, 2025
Brigond started aft, but Gaspard sprang before him. "Stand back!" he called. "Where you are you die!" Brigond, wild with terror and rage, ran at him. Gaspard caught him as he came. With vast strength he lifted him and dashed him to the deck. "Die there, murderer!" he cried. Brigond crouched upon the deck, looking at him with fearful eyes. "Who- are you?" he asked. "I am Gaspard the pilot.
She had been cradled in it, reared in it, lived with it, and here was no law-breaking. Whose money was it? No one's: for who should say what ship it was, or what people were robbed by Brigond and those others? Gold that was a better game than wine and brandy, and for once her father would be on a cruise which would not be, as it were, sailing in forbidden waters.
She had been cradled in it, reared in it, lived with it, and here was no law- breaking. Whose money was it? No one's: for who should say what ship it was, or what people were robbed by Brigond and those others? Gold that was a better game than wine and brandy, and for once her father would be on a cruise which would not be, as it were, sailing in forbidden waters.
I don't want surprises; I want what you've got the thing that's kept you good-tempered while we lie here like snails on the rocks." "Well, my cricket, if that's the way you feel, here you are. It is a long story, but I will make it short. Once there was a pirate called Brigond, and he brought into a bay on the coast of Labrador a fortune in some kegs gold, gold!
The pirate was startled. "What's the matter?" he said. Not Gaspard, but the needle rock replied. There was a sudden shock; the vessel stood still and shivered; lurched, swung shoulder downwards, reeled and struggled. Instantly she began to sink. "The boats! lower the boats!" cried Brigond. "This cursed fool has run us on a rock!" The waves, running high, now swept over the deck.
Gaspard remembered Brigond, and he veiled his eyes lest the hate he felt should reveal him. No one could have recognised him as the young pilot of twenty years before. Then his face was cheerful and bright, and in his eye was the fire of youth. Now a thick beard and furrowing lines hid all the look of the past. His voice, too, was desolate and distant. Brigond clapped him on the shoulder.
He remembered the reefs, but he did not know of the needle of rock. Presently he saw Gaspard's boat coming. "Someone who knows the bay," he said; "I see a hut on the cliff." "Hello, who are you?" Brigond called down as Gaspard drew alongside. "A Hudson's Bay Company's man," answered Gaspard. "How many are there of you?" "Myself alone." "Can you pilot us in?" "I know the way." "Come up."
There was one man, the mate on the first voyage. He had been put in prison also. He did not get away as soon as Brigond. When he was free, he come to the captain of a ship that I know, the Free-and-Easy, that sails to Havre, and told him the story, asking for passage to Quebec. The captain Gobal did not believe it, but said he would bring him over on the next voyage.
He sprang towards the cliff. "Gaspard, come back!" he called; then paused, and, with an enigmatical smile, shrugged his shoulders, drew back, and waited. The vessel was hove to outside the bay, as if hesitating. Brigond was considering whether it were better, with his scant chart, to attempt the bay, or to take small boats and make for the shore.
He came near sharing the fate of Brigond, for the yawl grazed the needle of the rock that, hiding away in the water, with a nose out for destruction, awaits its victims. They reached safe anchorage, but by the time they landed it was night, with, however, a good moon showing.
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