第 50 节
作者:插翅难飞      更新:2021-04-30 17:18      字数:2662
  the   sea。    The   third   time   a   great   wave   filled   it   and   stove   the   bottom。
  Helplessly we waited beside it until the dawn broke; to show a raging sea
  and    a  flying   scud   above    it。  There    was    no  sign   of  the   Black   Swan。
  Climbing the hill we looked down; but on all the great torn expanse of the
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  THE ADVENTURES OF GERARD
  ocean   there   was   no gleam  of   a   sail。   She   was   gone。    Whether   she   had
  sunk; or whether she was recaptured by her English crew; or what strange
  fate may have been in store for her; I do not know。                 Never again in this
  life did I see Captain Fourneau to tell him the result of my mission。                  For
  my     own    part  I  gave    myself    up   to  the  English;    my    boatman     and    I
  pretending that we were the only survivors of a lost vesselthough; indeed;
  there   was   no   pretence   in   the   matter。   At   the   hands   of   their   officers   I
  received that generous hospitality which I have always encountered; but it
  was many a long month before I could get a passage back to the dear land
  outside   of   which   there   can   be   no   happiness   for   so   true   a   Frenchman   as
  myself。
  And so I tell you in one evening how I bade good…bye to my master;
  and I   take   my  leave also of   you;  my  kind friends;  who have   listened   so
  patiently   to   the   long…   winded   stories   of   an   old   broken   soldier。 Russia;
  Italy; Germany; Spain; Portugal; and England; you have gone with me to
  all these countries; and you have seen through my dim eyes something of
  the sparkle and splendour of those great days; and I have brought back to
  you some shadow of those men whose tread shook the earth。                     Treasure it
  in your minds and pass it on to your children; for the memory of a great
  age is the most precious treasure that a nation can possess。               As the tree is
  nurtured by its own cast leaves so it is these dead men and vanished days
  which may bring out another blossoming of heroes; of rulers; and of sages。
  I go to Gascony; but my words stay here in your memory; and long after
  Etienne Gerard is forgotten a heart may be warmed or a spirit braced by
  some   faint   echo   of   the   words   that   he   has   spoken。  Gentlemen;   an   old
  soldier salutes you and bids you farewell。
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