Madame Midas
Hume, Fergus, 1859-1932
English
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Below is a summary of Madame Midas
MADAME MIDAS
Fergus Hume
PROLOGUE
CAST UP BY THE SEA
A wild bleak-looking coast, with huge water-worn promontories
jutting out into the sea, daring the tempestuous fury of the waves,
which dashed furiously in sheets of seething foam against the iron
rocks. Two of these headlands ran out for a considerable distance,
and at the base of each, ragged cruel-looking rocks stretched still
further out into the ocean until they entirely disappeared beneath
the heaving waste of waters, and only the sudden line of white foam
every now and then streaking the dark green waves betrayed their
treacherous presence to the idle eye. Between these two headlands
there was about half a mile of yellow sandy beach on which the waves
rolled with a dull roar, fringing the wet sands with many coloured
wreaths of sea-weed and delicate shells. At the back the cliffs rose
in a kind of semi-circle, black and precipitous, to the height of
about a hundred feet, and flocks of white seagulls who had their
nests therein were constantly circling round, or flying seaward with
steadily expanded wings and discordant cries. At the top of these
inhospitable-looking cliffs a line of pale green betrayed the
presence of vegetation, and from thence it spread inland into vast-
rolling pastures ending far away at the outskirts of the bush, above
which could be seen giant mountains with snow-covered ranges. Over
all this strange contrast of savage arid coast and peaceful upland
there was a glaring red sky--not the delicate evanescent pink of an
ordinary sunset--but a fierce angry crimson which turned the wet
sands and dark expanse of ocean into the colour of blood. Far away
westward, where the sun--a molten ball of fire--was sinking behind
the snow-clad peaks, frowned long lines of gloomy clouds--like
prison bars through which the sinking orb glowed fiercely. Rising
from the east to the zenith of the sky was a huge black cloud
bearing a curious resemblance to a gigantic hand, the long lean
fingers of which were stretched threateningly out as if to grasp the
land and drag it back into the lurid sea of blood; altogether a
cruel, weird-looking scene, fantastic, unreal, and bizarre as one of
Dore's marvellous conceptions. Suddenly on the red waters there
appeared a black speck, rising and falling with the restless waves,
and ever drawing nearer and nearer to the gloomy cliffs and sandy
beach. When within a quarter of a mile of the shore, the speck
resolved itself into a boat, a mere shallop, painted a dingy white,
and much battered by the waves as it tossed lightly on the crimson
waters. It had one mast and a small sail all torn and patched, which
by some miracle held together, and swelling out to the wind drew the
boat nearer to the land. In this frail craft were two men, one of
whom was kneeling in the prow of the boat shading his eyes from the
sunlight with his hands and gazing eagerly at the cliffs, while the
other sat in the centre with bowed head, in an attitude of sullen
resignation, holding the straining sail by a stout rope twisted
round his arm. Neither of them spoke a word till within a short
distance of the beach, when the man at the look-out arose, tall and
gaunt, and stretched out his hands to the inhospitable-looking coast
with a harsh, exulting laugh.
'At last,' he cried, in a hoarse, strained voice, and in a foreign
tongue; 'freedom at last.'
The other man made no comment on this outburst of his companion, but
kept his eyes steadfastly on the bottom of the boat, where lay a
small barrel and a bag of mouldy biscuits, the remnants of their
provisions on the voyage.
The man who had spoken evidently did not expect an answer from his
companion, for he did not even turn his head to look at him, but
stood with folded arms gazing eagerly ahead, until, with a sudden
rush, the boat drove up high and dry on the shore, sending him head-
over-heels into the wet sand. He struggled to his feet quickly, and,
running up the beach a little way, turned to see how his companion
had fared. The other had fallen into the sea, but had picked himself
up, and was busily engaged in wringing the water from his coarse
clothing. There was a smooth water-worn boulder on the beach, and,
seeing this, the man who had spoken went up to it and sat down
thereon, while his companion, evidently of a more practical turn of
mind, collected the stale biscuits which had fallen out of the bag,
then, taking the barrel carefully on his shoulder, walked up to
where the other was sitting, and threw both biscuits and barrel at
his feet.
He then flung himself wearily on the sand, and picking up a biscuit
began to munch it steadily. The other drew a tin pannikin from the
bosom of his shirt, and nodded his head towards the barrel, upon
which the eater laid down his biscuit, and, taking up the barrel,
drew the bung, and let a few drops of water trickle into the tin
dish. The man on the boulder drank every drop, then threw the
pannikin down on the sand, while his companion, who had exhausted
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