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Clotelle

a tale of the Southern States
  
  
  

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CHAPTER XXV. THE FLIGHT.
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25. CHAPTER XXV.
THE FLIGHT.

On once gaining the wharf, Devenant and Clotelle found no difficulty
in securing an immediate passage to France. The fine packet-ship
Utica lay down the bay, and only awaited the return of the lighter that
night to complete her cargo and list of passengers, ere she departed.
The young Frenchman therefore took his prize on board, and started for
the ship.

Daylight was just making its appearance the next morning when the
Utica weighed anchor and turned her prow toward the sea. In the
course of three hours, the vessel, with outspread sails, was rapidly flying
from land. Everything appeared to be auspicious. The skies were
beautifully clear, and the sea calm, with a sun that dazzled the whole
scene. But clouds soon began to chase each other through the heavens,


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and the sea became rough. It was then that Clotelle felt that there was
hope of escaping. She had hitherto kept in the cabin, but now she expressed
a wish to come on deck. The hanging clouds were narrowing
the horizon to a span, and gloomily mingling with the rising surges.
The old and grave-looking seamen shook their weather-wise heads as if
foretelling a storm.

As Clotelle came on deck, she strained her eyes in vain to catch a
farewell view of her native land. With a smile on her countenance, but
with her eyes filled with tears, she said,—

“Farewell, farewell to the land of my birth, and welcome, welcome,
ye dark blue waves. I care not where I go, so it is

`Where a tyrant never trod,
Where a slave was never known,
But where nature worships God,
If in the wilderness alone.' ”

Devenant stood by her side, seeming proud of his future wife, with
his face in a glow at his success, while over his noble brow clustering
locks of glossy black hair were hanging in careless ringlets. His finely-cut,
classic features wore the aspect of one possessed with a large and
noble heart.

Once more the beautiful Clotelle whispered in the ear of her lover,—

“Away, away, o'er land and sea,
America is now no home for me.”

The winds increased with nightfall, and impenetrable gloom surrounded
the ship. The prospect was too uncheering, even to persons in
love. The attention which Devenant paid to Clotelle, although she had
been registered on the ship's passenger list as his sister, caused more
than one to look upon his as an agreeable travelling companion. His
tall, slender figure and fine countenance bespoke for him at first sight
one's confidence. That he was sincerely and deeply enamored of
Clotelle all could see.

The weather became still more squally. The wind rushed through
the white, foaming waves, and the ship groaned with its own wild and
ungovernable labors, while nothing could be seen but the wild waste of
waters. The scene was indeed one of fearful sublimity.

Day came and went without any abatement of the storm. Despair
was now on every countenance. Occasionally a vivid flash of lightning
would break forth and illuminate the black and boiling surges that surrounded
the vessel, which was now scudding before the blast under bare
poles.

After five days of most intensely stormy weather, the sea settled down


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into a dead calm, and the passengers flocked on deck. During the last
three days of the storm, Clotelle had been so unwell as to be unable to
raise her head. Her pale face and quivering lips and languid appearance
made her look as if every pulsation had ceased. Her magnificent
large and soft eyes, fringed with lashes as dark as night, gave her an
angelic appearance. The unreserved attention of Devenant, even when
sea-sick himself, did much to increase the little love that the at first distrustful
girl had placed in him. The heart must always have some
object on which to centre its affections, and Clotelle having lost all hope
of ever again seeing Jerome, it was but natural that she should now
transfer her love to one who was so greatly befriending her. At first
she respected Devenant for the love he manifested for her, and for his
apparent willingness to make any sacrifice for her welfare. True, this
was an adventure upon which she had risked her all, and should her
heart be foiled in this search for hidden treasures, her affections would
be shipwrecked forever. She felt under great obligations to the man
who had thus effected her escape, and that noble act alone would entitle
him to her love.

Each day became more pleasant as the noble ship sped onward amid
the rippled spray. The whistling of the breeze through the rigging was
music to the ear, and brought gladness to the heart of every one on
board. At last, the long suspense was broken by the appearance of land,
at which all hearts leaped for joy. It was a beautiful morning in October.
The sun had just risen, and sky and earth were still bathed in
his soft, rosy glow, when the Utica hauled into the dock at Bordeaux.
The splendid streets, beautiful bridges, glittering equipages, and smiling
countenances of the people, gave everything a happy appearance, after a
voyage of twenty-nine days on the deep, deep sea.

After getting their baggage cleared from the custom-house and going
to a hotel, Devenant made immediate arrangements for the marriage.
Clotelle, on arriving at the church where the ceremony was to take
place, was completely overwhelmed at the spectacle. She had never
beheld a scene so gorgeous as this. The magnificent dresses of the
priests and choristers, the deep and solemn voices, the elevated crucifix,
the burning tapers, the splendidly decorated altar, the sweet-smelling
incense, made the occasion truly an imposing one. At the conclusion
of the ceremony, the loud and solemn peals of the organ's swelling anthem
were lost to all in the contemplation of the interesting scene.

The happy couple set out at once for Dunkirk, the residence of the
bridegroom's parents. But their stay there was short, for they had
scarcely commenced visiting the numerous friends of the husband ere
orders came for him to proceed to India to join that portion of the
French army then stationed there.


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In due course of time they left for India, passing through Paris and
Lyons, taking ship at Marseilles. In the metropolis of France, they
spent a week, where the husband took delight in introducing his wife
to his brother officers in the French army, and where the newly-married
couple were introduced to Louis Philippe, then King of France. In
all of these positions, Clotelle sustained herself in a most ladylike manner.

At Lyons, they visited the vast factories and other public works, and
all was pleasure with them. The voyage from Marseilles to Caloutta
was very pleasant, as the weather was exceedingly fine. On arriving
in India, Captain Devenant and lady were received with honors—the
former for his heroic bravery in more than one battle, and the latter for
her fascinating beauty and pleasing manners, and the fact that she was
connected with one who was a general favorite with all who had his acquaintance.
This was indeed a great change for Clotelle. Six months
had not elapsed since her exposure in the slave-market of New Orleans.
This life is a stage, and we are indeed all actors.