"That is a costly piece of furniture for such a recluse."

Not finding a key, he took a hatchet, broke open the lock, and opened the two leaves of the door; the shelves were empty.

"It is not natural to lock up nothing with so much precaution; time presses, but this key will open everything." He took up the hatchet again, and in a moment the ebony case was in pieces.

A double bottom fell apart.

The Bohemian uttered a cry of joy as he perceived the little embossed silver casket of which we have spoken, and on which was marked a Maltese cross. This casket, which was quite heavy, was fastened no doubt by a secret spring, as neither key nor lock could be discovered.

"I have my fine part of the booty, now let us run to help Captain Pog in taking his. Ah, ah!" added he, with a diabolical laugh, as he beheld the bay and the city wrapped in profound stillness, "soon Eblis will shake his wings of fire over that scene. The sky will be in flames, and the waters will run with blood!" Then, as a last precaution, he emptied a tunnel of water on the signal pile, and descended in hot haste to join the pirate vessels.

CHAPTER XXIX. CHRISTMAS

While so many misfortunes were threatening the city, the inhabitants were quietly keeping Christmas.

Notwithstanding the uneasiness the opinion of the watchman had given, notwithstanding the alarm caused by terror of the pirates, in every house, poor or rich, preparations were being made for the patriarchal feast.

We have spoken of the magnificent cradle which had long been in course of preparation through the untiring industry of Dame Dulceline.

It was at last finished and placed in the hall of the dais, or hall of honour in Maison-Forte.

Midnight had just sounded. The woman in charge was impatiently awaiting the return of Raimond V., his daughter, Honorat de Berrol, and other relations and guests whom the baron had invited to the ceremony.

All the family and guests had gone to La Ciotat, to be present at the midnight ma.s.s.

Abbe Mascarolus had said ma.s.s in the chapel of the castle for those who had remained at home.

We will conduct the reader to the hall of the dais, which occupied two-thirds of the long gallery which communicated with the two wings of the castle.

It was never opened except on solemn occasions.

A splendid red damask silk covered its walls. To supply the place of flowers, quite rare in that season, ma.s.ses of green branches, cut from trees and arranged in boxes, hid almost entirely the ten large arched windows of this immense hall.

At one end of the hall rose a granite chimneypiece, ten feet high and heavily sculptured.

Notwithstanding the season was cold, no fire burned in this vast fireplace, but an immense pile, composed of branches of vine, beech, olive, and fir-apples, only waited the formality of custom to throw waves of light and heat into the grand and stately apartment.

Two pine-trees with long green branches ornamented with ribbons, oranges, and bunches of grapes, were set up in boxes on each side of the chimney, and formed above the mantelpiece a veritable thicket of verdure.

Six copper chandeliers with lighted yellow wax candles only partially dissipated the darkness of the immense room.

At the other end, opposite the chimney, rose the dais, resembling somewhat the canopy of a bed, with curtains, hangings, and cushions of red damask, as were, too, the mantle and gloves, a part of the equipment of office.

The red draperies covered, with their long folds, five wooden steps, which were hidden under a rich Turkey carpet.

Ordinarily the armorial chair of Raimond V. was placed on this elevation, and here enthroned, the old gentleman, as lord of the manor, administered on rare occasions justice to high and low. On Christmas Day, however, the cradle of the infant Jesus occupied this place of honour.

A table of ma.s.sive oak, covered over with a rich oriental drapery, furnished the middle of the gallery.

On this table could be seen an ebony box handsomely carved, with a coat of arms on its lid. This box contained the book of accounts, a sort of record in which were written the births and all other important family events.

Armchairs and benches of carved oak, with twisted feet, completed the furniture of this hall, to which its size and severe bareness gave an imposing character.

Dame Dulceline and Abbe Mascarolus had just finished placing the cradle under the dais. This marvel was a picture in relief about three feet square at the base and three feet high. The faithful representation of the stable where the Saviour was born would have been too severe a limitation to the poetical conceptions of the good abbe.

So, instead of a stable, the holy scene was pictured under a sort of arcade sustained by two half ruined supports. In the s.p.a.ces between the stones, real little stones artistically cut, were hung long garlands of natural vines and leaves, most beautifully intertwined.

A cloud of white wax seemed to envelope the upper part of the arcade.

Five or six cherubs about a thumb high, modelled in wax painted a natural colour, and wearing azure wings made of the feathers of humming-birds, were here and there set in the cloud, and held a streamer of white silk, in the middle of which glittered the words, embroidered in letters of gold: Gloria in Jezcelriir.

The supports of the arcade rested on a sort of carpet of fine moss, packed so closely as to resemble green velvet, and in front of this erection was placed the cradle of the Saviour of the world; a real, miniature cradle, covered over with the richest laces. In it reposed the infant Jesus.

Kneeling by the cradle, the Virgin Mary bent over the Babe her maternal brow, the white veil of the Queen of Angels falling over her feet and hiding half of her azure coloured silk robe.

The paschal lamb, his four feet bound with a rose coloured ribbon, was laid at the foot of the cradle; behind it the kneeling ox thrust his large head, and his eyes of enamel seemed to contemplate the divine Infant.

The a.s.s, on a more distant plane, and half hidden by the posts of the arcade, behind which it stood, also showed his meek and gentle head.

The dog seemed to cringe near the cradle, while the shepherds, clothed in coa.r.s.e ca.s.socks, and the magi kings, dressed in rich robes of brocatelle, were offering their adoration.

A fourth row of little candles, made of rose-scented wax, burned around the cradle.

An immense amount of work, and really great resources of imagination, had been necessary to perfect such an exquisite picture. For instance, the a.s.s, which was about six thumbs in height, was covered in mouse-skin which imitated his own to perfection. The black and white ox owed his hair to an India pig of the same colour, and his short and polished black horns to the rounded nippers of an enormous beetle.

The robes of the magi kings revealed a fairy-like skill and patience, and their long white hair was really veritable hair, which Dame Dulceline had cut from her own venerable head.

As to the figures of the cherubs, the infant Jesus, and other actors in this holy scene, they had been purchased in Ma.r.s.eilles from one of those master wax-chandlers, who always kept a.s.sorted materials necessary in the construction of these cradles.

Doubtless it was not high art, but there was, in this little monument of a laborious and innocent piety, something as simple and as pathetic as the divine scene which they tried to reproduce with such religious conscientiousness.

The good old priest and Dame Dulceline, after having lit the last candles which surrounded the cradle, stood a moment, lost in admiration of their work.

"Never, M. Abbe," said Dame Dulceline, "have we had such a beautiful cradle at Maison-Forte."

"That is true, Dame Dulceline; the representation of the animals approaches nature as closely as is permitted man to approach the marvels of creation."

"Ah, M. Abbe, why did it have to be that the accursed Bohemian, who they say is an emissary of the pirates, should give us the secret of making gla.s.s eyes for these animals?"

"What does it matter, Dame Dulceline? Perhaps some day the miscreant will learn the eternal truth. The Lord employs every arm to build his temple."

"Pray tell me, M. Abbe, why we must put the cradle under the dais in the hall of honour. Soon it will be forty years since I began making cradles for Maison-Forte des Anbiez. My mother made them for Raimond IV., father of Raimond V., for as many years. Ah, well! I have never asked before, nor have I even asked myself why this hall was always selected for the blessed exposition."

"Ah, you see, Dame Dulceline, there is always, at the base of our ancient religious customs, something consoling for the humble, the weak, and the suffering, and also something imposing as a lesson for the happy and the rich and the powerful of this world. This cradle, for instance, is the symbol of the birth of the divine Saviour. He was the poor child of a poor artisan, and yet some day he was to be as far above the most powerful of men as the heavens are above the earth. So you see, Dame Dulceline, upon the anniversary day of the redemption, the poor and rustic cradle of the infant Saviour takes the place of honour in the ceremonial hall of the n.o.ble baron."

"Ah, I understand, M. Abbe, they put the infant Jesus in the place of the n.o.ble baron, to show that the lords of this world should be first to bow before the Saviour!"