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Updated: June 27, 2025
On the morning of the next day I was seated at breakfast in a large apartment which looked out upon the Plaza Mayor, or great square of the good town of Vigo. The sun was shining very brilliantly, and all around looked lively and gay. Presently a stranger entered, and bowing profoundly, stationed himself at the window, where he remained a considerable time in silence.
"They will not let a horse-party through the gate at night," Vigo began. "We will go on foot." "Mademoiselle," Vigo answered, as if she had proposed flying to the moon, "you cannot walk to St. Denis." "I must!" she cried. I had put the flambeau in a socket on the wall.
"Well, this is a sight for sore eyes, anyway." M. Étienne laughed out in pleasure. It put heart into him, I could see, that his first greeting should be thus friendly. "Vigo didn't know what had become of you, monsieur," Chariot volunteered. "The old man wasn't in the best of tempers last night, after Lucas got away and you gave us the slip, too. He called us all blockheads and cursed idiots.
Twenty ships were burned or taken in the Port of Redondilla, and a vast deal more plunder than was ever accounted for; but poor men before that expedition were rich afterwards, and so often was it found and remarked that the Vigo officers came home with pockets full of money, that the notorious Jack Shafto, who made such a figure at the coffeehouses and gaming-tables in London, and gave out that he had been a soldier at Vigo, owned, when he was about to be hanged, that Bagshot Heath had been HIS Vigo, and that he only spoke of La Redondilla to turn away people's eyes from the real place where the booty lay.
She clutched me with fingers as cold as marble, which trembled on mine. "Where is M. de St. Quentin?" "At St. Denis." "You must take me there to-night." "I was going," I stammered, bewildered; "but you, mademoiselle " "You knew of M. de Mar's arrest?" "Aye." "What coil is this, Félix?" demanded Vigo, coming up.
One evening, when we were tied up under the oaks of a bayou, I told him. There emanated from Monsieur Vigo a sympathy which few men possess, and this I felt strongly as he listened, breaking his silence only at long intervals to ask a question.
Almonde was a capable seaman trained in the school of Tromp and De Ruyter; and he took a most creditable part in the action off Vigo, October 23, in which a large portion of the silver fleet was captured, and the Franco-Spanish fleet, which formed its escort, destroyed. The maritime operations of 1703 were uneventful, the French fleet being successfully blockaded in Toulon harbour.
At sea hove to off the coast of Portugal in the steam packet. On the 15th called at Cadiz. On the 16th went on shore, Consul B y pompous, &c. Daughters, music, painting, &c. William the Conqueror, &c. &c. Last night the Jew groaned heavily in his sleep, woke him he was dreaming of being robbed of his money. 'June 23. Put into Vigo Bay for coals and left it in the evening of the 24th.
But I am out of Monsieur's books." "What was old Vigo after when he took you in to Monsieur? I never saw anything so bold. When Monsieur says he is not to be disturbed he means it." I had nothing to tell him, and was silent. "What is it? Can't you tell an old chum?" "No; it is Monsieur's private business." "Well, you are grumpy!" he cried out pettishly. "You must be out of grace."
"I go home now for the ransom, and I will e'en be at the pains to doff this gear for something darker." "Monsieur," I pleaded, "why not stay at home to get your dues of sleep? Vigo will bring the gold; he and I will put the matter through." "I ask not your advice," he cried haughtily; then with instant softening: "Nay, this is my affair, Félix.
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