CHAPTER I

Produced by Mike Alder and Sue Asscher. HTML version by Al Haines.

BLACK BARTLEMY'S TREASURE

BY

JEFFREY FARNOL

TO MY NEPHEWS

JAMES JEFFREY FARNOL

AND

RONALD EWART OAKESHOTT

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

I OF WHAT BEFELL ON PEMBURY HILL

II HOW I HEARD A SONG IN THE WOOD AT MIDNIGHT

III TELLS HOW I STOLE MY BREAKFAST

IV TELLETH HOW I MET ONE ADAM PENFEATHER

V HOW I CAME TO CONISBY SHENE

VI OF MY SHAMEFUL SUFFERINGS AND HOW I WAS DELIVERED THEREFROM

VII HOW I HEARD TELL OF BLACK BARTLEMY'S TREASURE

VIII HOW I FELL IN WITH ONE GOD-BE-HERE, A PEDDLER

IX HOW I HAD WORD WITH THE LADY JOAN BRANDON FOR THE THIRD TIME

X HOW I SWORE TO THE BLOOD-BROTHERHOOD

XI ADAM PENFEATHER, HIS NARRATIVE

XII TELLETH OF A FIGHT IN THE DARK

XIII WE SET OUT FOR DEPTFORD POOL

XIV HOW I CAME ABOARD THE "FAITHFUL FRIEND"

XV TELLETH OF A NAMELESS BLACK SHIP

XVI TELLS HOW WE WERE DOGGED BY THE BLACK SHIP

XVII TELLETH HOW AN EYE WATCHED ME FROM THE DARK

XVIII CONCERNING THE MARK OF A BLOODY HAND AND HOW I LAY IN THE

BILBOES ON SUSPICION OF MURDER

XIX CONCERNING THE PRINCESS DAMARIS

XX HOW I CAME OUT OF MY BONDS AND OF THE TERRORS OF A FIRE AT SEA

XXI TELLETH HOW THE SAID FIRE CAME ABOUT

XXII TELLETH HOW WE WERE CAST ADRIFT

XXIII DIVERS PERILS AND DANGERS AT SEA

XXIV HOW WE CAME TO BLACK BARTLEMY'S ISLAND

XXV HOW I WAS HAUNTED OF BLACK BARTLEMY

XXVI WE COME UPON GRIM EVIDENCES OF ADAM PENFEATHER

XXVII DIVERS ADVENTURES ON THE ISLAND

XXVIII I BECOME A JACK-OF-ALL-TRADES

XXIX OF MY ENCOUNTER BENEATH BARTLEMY'S TREE

XXX OF MY SICK HUMOURS

XXXI I TRY MY HAND AT POTTERY

XXXII TELLS HOW I FOUND A SECRET CAVE

XXXIII WE EXPLORE THE ISLAND

XXXIV HOW I STOOD RESOLUTE IN MY FOLLY

XXXV HOW MY DEAR LADY WAS LOST TO ME

XXXVI TELLETH SOME PART OF A NIGHT OF AGONY

XXXVII HOW I SOUGHT DEATH BUT FOUND IT NOT

XXXVIII CONCERNING THE DEAD MAN HUMPHREY AND HOW I SAW A VISION

IN THE MOONLIGHT

XXXIX HOW MY DEAR LADY CAME BACK TO ME

XL OF CLOTHES

XLI OF THE VOICE THAT SANG ON DELIVERANCE SANDS

XLII CONCERNING THE SONG OF A DEAD MAN

XLIII OF THE DEATH-DANCE OF THE SILVER WOMAN

XLIV HOW I HAD SPEECH WITH ROGER TRESSADY TO MY UNDOING

XLV OF THE COMING OF ADAM PENFEATHER

XLVI HOW I DOUBTED MYSELF

XLVII HOW MY DOUBTING WAS RESOLVED FOR ME

BLACK BARTLEMY'S TREASURE

PROLOGUE

The Frenchman beside me had been dead since dawn. His scarred and

shackled body swayed limply back and forth with every sweep of the

great oar as we, his less fortunate bench-fellows, tugged and strained

to keep time to the stroke.

Two men had I seen die beside me, yet Death ever passed me by, nay, it

seemed rather that despite the pain of stripes, despite the travail and

hardship, my strength waxed the mightier; upon arm and thigh, burnt

nigh black by fierce suns, the muscles showed hard and knotted; within

my body, scarred by the lash, the life leapt and glowed yet was the

soul of me sick unto death. But it seemed I could not die--finding

thereby blessed rest and a surcease from this agony of life as had this

Frenchman, who of all the naked wretches about me, was the only one

with whom I had any sort of fellowship. He had died (as I say) with

the dawn, so quietly that at first I thought he but fainted and pitied

him, but, when I knew, pity changed to bitterness.

Therefore, as I strove at the heavy oar I prayed 'twixt gnashing teeth

a prayer I had often prayed, and the matter of my praying was thus:

"O God of Justice, for the agony I needs must now endure, for the

bloody stripes and bitter anguish give to me vengeance--vengeance, O

God, on mine enemy!"

So prayed I, hoarse-panting and with the sweat trickling down whiles I

stared at the naked back of him that rowed before me--a great, fat

fellow he had been once, but now the skin hung in numberless creases

whereon were many weals, some raw and bloody, that crossed and

re-crossed each other after the manner of lace-work.

"Justice, O God, upon mine enemy! Since Death is not for me let me

live until I be avenged; for the pain I suffer so may I see him suffer,

for the anguish that is mine so may I watch his agony. Thou art a just

God, so, God of Justice, give to me vengeance!"

The sun rose high and higher over our quarter, beating down upon our

naked backs and adding greatly to our torments thereby, waking the pain

of old stripes and lending an added sting to new.

Ever and anon would come the sharp crack of the drivers' whips followed

by the squealing cry of quivering flesh (a cry wherein was none of the

human) the which, dying to a whine, was lost in the stir and bustle of

the great galleass. But ever and always, beneath the hoarse voices of

the mariners, beneath the clash of armour and tramp of feet, beneath

the creak and rumble of the long oars, came yet another sound, rising

and falling yet never ceasing, a dull, low sound the like of which you

shall sometimes hear among trees when the wind is high--the deep,

sobbing moan that was the voice of our anguish as we poor wretches

urged the great "Esmeralda" galleass upon her course.

The oar whereto I was chained along with my three bench-mates had at

some time been badly sprung, so that the armourers had made shift to

strengthen it with a stout iron fillet some six inches wide. Now it so

happened that my grasp came upon this fillet, and, with every stroke of

the oar, day after day, week in and week out, it had become my wont to

rub the links of my chain to and fro across this iron band, whereby

they had become very smooth and shining.

The words of my prayer were yet upon my lips, when, chancing to look

upon one of these links, I beheld that which set my heart a-leaping and

my riotous blood a-tingle to my fingers' ends; yet 'twas a very small

thing, no more than a mark that showed upon the polished surface of the

link, a line not so thick as a hair and not to be noticed without close

looking; but when I bore upon the link this hair-line grew and widened,

it needed but a sudden wrench and I should be free. This threw me into

such a rapturous transport that I had much ado to contain myself,

howbeit after some while I lifted my eyes to the heaven all flushed and

rosy with the young day, for it seemed that God had indeed heard my

prayer.

Presently, along the gangway amidships, comes none other than that

accursed Portugal, Pedro the whip-master, who, espying the drooping

form of the Frenchman beside me, forthwith falls a-cursing in his vile

tongue and gives a prodigious flourish with his whip. Now by reason of

much practice they do become very expert with these same whips,

insomuch that they shall (with a certain cunning flick of the lash)

gash you a man as it were with a knife, the like of which none may bear

and not cry out for the exceeding pain of it. "Ha, thou lazy dog!"

cries he, "Think ye to snore and take your ease whiles Pedro is

aboard?" And with the word the long lash hissed and cracked upon the

Frenchman's naked back like a pistol-shot.

And lo! he (that meseemed was dead) stirred. I felt the scarred body

leap and quiver, the swooning eyes opened, rolling dim and sightless

and the pallid face was twisted in sharp anguish; but, even as I

watched, the lines of agony were smoothed away, into the wild eyes came

a wondrous light, and uttering a great, glad cry he sank forward across

the oar-shaft and hung there. Hereupon this accursed Pedro betook him

to his whip, smiting right heartily, but, seeing the Frenchman stirred

not and perceiving, moreover, the blood to come but slow and in no

great quantity, he presently desisted and bade us cease rowing one and

all.

This sudden respite from labour served but to teach me how stiff and

painful were my limbs, more especially my left wrist and ankle where

the fetters had worn great sores.

The wind was fallen light and there rose that hot, sickening reek, that

suffocating stench that is like unto nothing on earth save one of these

floating hells, and the which, if a man hath but smelled it once, he

shall nevermore forget.

After some while, back cometh Pedro with certain of the armourers, and

(having by divers methods learned the Frenchman was in sooth dead) they

struck off his fetters, hand and leg, in the doing of which they must

needs free me also (since we were chained together, he and I) and,

binding a great shot to his feet, made ready to heave him overboard.

And now, seeing no man heeded me, I snapped asunder the cracked link

and was free, save for the heavy chain that cumbered my leg. Stooping,

I lifted this chain and crouched to spring for the bulwark; but now

(even in this moment), remembering all that I had suffered at the hands

of this most accursed Pedro, I turned, and wrapping the broken

oar-chain about my fist, crept towards where he stood to oversee the

armourers. His back was towards me and I was within a yard of him when

he turned, and, seeing me, uttered a shout and raised his whip, but ere

the blow could fall I leapt and smote him. My iron-bound fist took him

full betwixt the eyes, and looking down upon his crushed and spattered

face as he lay I knew that Pedro the whip-master would whip men no more

these many days.

Then (not minded to die by the whip or upon a pike-head) turned I and

sprang for the ship's side, but the chain about my leg hampered me

sorely, and ere I could mount the high bulwark I was beset from behind.

So would I have faced them and died fighting but fierce strokes

battered me to my knees, fierce hands wrenched and tore at me, and

grown faint with blows I was overborne, my hands lashed behind me, and

thus helpless I was dragged along the gangway and so up the ladder to

the poop where, plain to all men's sight, a whipping-post had been set

up. Yet even so I struggled still, panting out curses on them, French

and Spanish and English, drawing upon all the vile abuse of the

rowing-bench and lazarette since fain would I have them slay me out of

hand the rather than endure the miseries and anguish of my lot. Yet

this might not be (since slaves were hard to come by and I was mighty

and strong) wherefore I struggled no more, but suffered them to strike

off my broken fetters and bind me to the whipping-post as they listed.

Yet scarce had they made an end when there comes a loud hail from the

masthead, whereupon was sudden mighty to-do of men running hither and

yon, laughing and shouting one to another, some buckling on armour as

they ran, some casting loose the great ordnance, while eyes turned and

hands pointed in the one direction; but turn and twist me how I might I

could see nought of any strange sail by reason of the high bulkhead

beside me.

Of a sudden all voices were hushed as up the poop-ladder comes the

commander Don Miguel in his black armour, who, looking long and

steadily to windward, gives a sign with his gauntleted hand, whereon

divers of the officers go off hot-foot, some to muster the long files

of arquebusiers, others to overlook the setting of more sail and the

like. And now was a prodigious cracking of whips followed by groans

and cries and screaming curses, and straightway the long oars began to

swing with a swifter beat. From where I stood in my bonds I could look

down upon the poor, naked wretches as they rose and fell, each and all

at the same moment, in time to the stroke.

For maybe half an hour the chase was kept up and then all at once the

decks quivered 'neath the discharge of one of the forward culverins;

and presently, as the great galleass altered her course, obedient to

the motion of Don Miguel's hand, I beheld, some half-league to

windward, the towering stern of the ship we were pursuing, whose length

gradually grew upon me as we overhauled her until she was fairly in

view. She was a small ship, and by her build I did not doubt but that

she was English; even as I watched, up to her mizzen-peak fluttered the

English flag. And hereupon a great yearning came upon me, insomuch

that of a sudden her high, weatherbeaten sides, her towering masts and

patched canvas grew all blurred and indistinct.

Thrice already our guns had roared, yet (though she was now so close

that I made out her very rope and spar) she made no sign. In a little

our guns fell silent also, wherefore, looking about, I beheld Don

Miguel standing beside the tiller yet with his impassive gaze ever bent

upon the foe; and, as I watched, I read his deadly purpose, and a great

fear for the English ship came upon me, and I fell a-praying beneath my

breath, for we carried a weapon more terrible than any culverin that

was ever cast, the long, sharp ram below the water.

The English ship was now so near that I could see the yawning muzzles

of her guns, while her high, curving sides seemed to tower over us. As

I gazed, with my heart full of a pitiful fear for her, I saw a head

appear above her quarter-railing, a very round head whereon was a

mariner's red cap. Came a puff of smoke, the sharp crack of a caliver,

and one of the officers beside Don Miguel threw up his hands and,

twisting on his heels, fell clashing in his armour. When I looked

again for the red cap, it was gone. But Don Miguel waited, silent and

impassive as ever. Suddenly he gestured with his hand, I saw the heave

of the steersmen's shoulders as they obeyed, while the air rang with

shouts of command as, the starboard oars holding water, the larboard

thrashed and churned amain and the great "Esmeralda" galleass (turning

thus well-nigh in her own length) drove straight for the side of her

foe.

Never had I seen it better done, and I set my teeth, waiting for the

grinding crash that was to send the English ship to the bottom, but lo!

her creaking yards were braced round, and, paying off before the wind

(which now blew strongly) she stood away upon a course at right angles

to her old, whereby both vessels were running parallel as before. Yet

it had been close, so very close indeed that as we drove past her I

heard the sickening crack of our oars as they snapped off one after the

other against her side, tossing those that manned them in bloody,

struggling heaps.

And now from every English gun leaped roaring flame; the air was full

of shrieks and groans and the crash of splintering wood, and through

the eddying smoke I could see many of our soldiery that lay in strange,

contorted attitudes while others crawled, sobbing on hands and knees;

but on the scarlet-dropping rowing-benches I dared not look.

Hotter waxed the fight, louder swelled the din and tumult with the

never-ceasing thunder of the guns; and amid it all Don Miguel paced to

and fro, impassive as always, the blade of his long rapier gleaming

here and there as he directed the fire.

Up rolled the smoke thicker and denser, but, ever and anon, through

some rift I might catch a glimpse of the scarred, blackened side of the

English ship, or the litter and confusion of our decks. Twice shots

ploughed up the planking hard by me, and once my post itself was

struck, so that for a moment I had some hope of winning free of my

bonds, yet struggle how I would I could not move; the which filled me

with a keen despair, for I made no doubt (what with the smoke and

tumult) I might have plunged overboard unnoticed and belike have gained

the English ship.

Slowly and by degrees our fire slackened, one by one the guns fell

silent and in their place rose the more hateful sounds of anguish. Now

as I stood thus, my eyes smarting with burnt powder, my ears yet

ringing with the din, I grew aware how the deck sloped in strange

fashion; at first I paid small heed, yet with every minute this slope

became steeper, and with this certainty came the knowledge that we were

sinking and, moreover (judging by the angle of the deck) sinking by the

stern.

Hereupon, impelled by that lust of life the which is implanted in each

one of us, I fell to a wild struggling against my bonds, until, seeing

in a little the hopelessness of this, I grew resigned to despair, and,

ceasing my passionate efforts, looked about me, for the smoke was

thinned away. And truly an evil sight was this great galleass, with

its shot-torn decks and huddled heaps of dead, its litter of broken

spars and dismantled guns, and with everywhere great gouts and pools of

blood, while below and beyond were the shattered rowing-benches

cumbered now with awful red heaps, silent for the most part, yet some

there were who screamed high and shrill.

Save for myself and divers of the dead the poop lay deserted, but

forward such of the soldiers and mariners who yet lived were fighting

for the boats, and all was riot and confusion.

As I stared about me thus I espied Don Miguel lying among the wreckage

of a dismantled gun; his face was towards me and looked as I had seen

it an hundred times, save for a smear of blood upon his cheek. Even as

I gazed his eyes met mine full and square. For a moment he lay without

motion, then (his face a-twitch with the effort) he came slowly to his

elbow, gazed about him and so back to me again. Then I saw his hand

creep down to the dagger at his hip, to fumble weakly there--howbeit,

at the third essay he drew the blade and began to creep towards me.

Very slowly and painfully he dragged himself along, and once I heard

him groan, but he stayed not till he was come within striking distance,

yet was he sore wounded and so weak withal that he was fain to rest him

awhile. And ever his impassive eyes looked up into mine the while I

nerved myself to meet the blow unflinching (an it might be so). Once

more he raised himself, his arm lifted slowly, the dagger gleamed and

fell, its keen edge severing the cords that bound me, and with a sudden

effort I broke free and stood staring down into those impassive eyes as

one in a dream. Then, lifting a feeble hand, he pointed to the

tattered sails of the English ship hard by, and so, resting his head

upon his arm as one that is very weary, he sighed; and with the sigh I

think the life passed out of him.

Turning, I was upon the quarter-railing in a single leap, and, without

a glance at the red havoc behind me, I plunged over and down.

The sharp sting of the brine struck me like a myriad needle-points, but

the sweet cool of the waters was wondrous grateful to my sun-scorched

body as, coming to the surface, I struck out for the English ship

though sore hampered by my chain.

Presently coming beneath her lofty stern I found hanging therefrom a

tangle of ropes and cordage whereby I contrived to clamber aboard, and

so beheld a man in a red seaman's bonnet who sat upon the wreckage of

one of the quarter guns tying up a splinter-gash in his arm with hand

and teeth; perceiving me he rolled a pair of blue eyes up at me and

nodded:

"Welcome aboard, lad!" says he, having knotted the bandage to his

liking. "Be ye one as can understand good English?"

"Aye!" says I, nodding.

"Why then bear witness as I be a patient soul and marciful. Be witness

as I held my fire so long as any marciful soul might by token that I

knew what a broadside can do among crowded rowing-benches--having rowed

aboard one o' they Spanish hells afore now--so I held my fire till yon

devil's craft came nigh cutting me asunder--and marcy hath its limits.

Timothy Spence o' the "Tiger", master, is me, homeward bound for the

Port of London, and by this fight am short five good men. But you're a

proper big 'un. Go for'ard to the bo'sun, you shall know him by reason

that he lacketh his starboard yere. Ask him for clothes to cover thy

nakedness, lad, and--Oho, there goeth yon devil's craft--!" Turning as

he spoke I saw the sharp bows of the "Esmeralda" lift and lift, high

and higher, and, with a long-drawn gurgling roar, the great galleass

plunged down stern foremost, burying her shame and misery from the eyes

of man for evermore.

Thus then I sailed with Master Timothy Spence aboard the "Tiger," a

free man after five years of anguish.

CHAPTER I

OF WHAT BEFELL ON PEMBURY HILL

It was a night of tempest with rain and wind, a great wild wind that

shouted mightily near and far, filling the world with halloo; while,

ever and anon, thunder crashed and lightning flamed athwart the muddy

road that wound steeply up betwixt grassy banks topped by swaying

trees. Broken twigs, whirling down the wind, smote me in the dark,

fallen branches reached out arms that grappled me unseen, but I held on

steadfastly, since every stride carried me nearer to vengeance, that

vengeance for the which I prayed and lived. So with bared head lifted

exulting to the tempest and grasping the stout hedge-stake that served

me for staff, I climbed the long ascent of Pembury Hill.

Reaching the summit at last I must needs stay awhile to catch my breath

and shelter me as well as I might 'neath the weather bank, for upon

this eminence the rain lashed and the wind smote me with a fury

redoubled.

And now, as I stood amid that howling darkness, my back propped by the

bank, my face lifted to the tempest, I was aware of a strange sound,

very shrill and fitful, that reached me 'twixt the booming wind-gusts,

a sound that came and went, now loud and clear, anon faint and remote,

and I wondered what it might be. Then the rushing dark was split

asunder by a jagged lightning-flash, and I saw. Stark against the

glare rose black shaft and crossbeam, wherefrom swung a creaking shape

of rusty chains and iron bands that held together something shrivelled

and black and wet with rain, a grisly thing that leapt on the buffeting

wind, that strove and jerked as it would fain break free and hurl

itself down upon me.

Now hearkening to the dismal creak of this chained thing, I fell to

meditation. This awful shape (thought I) had been a man once, hale and

strong,--even as I, but this man had contravened the law (even as I

purposed to do) and he had died a rogue's death and so hung, rotting,

in his chains, even as this my own body might do some day. And,

hearkening to the shrill wail of his fetters, my flesh crept with

loathing and I shivered. But the fit passed, and in my vain pride I

smote my staff into the mud at my feet and vowed within myself that

nought should baulk me of my just vengeance, come what might; as my

father had suffered death untimely and hard, so should die the enemy of

my race; for the anguish he had made me endure so should he know

anguish. I bethought me how long and deadly had been this feud of

ours, handed down from one generation to another, a dark,

blood-smirched record of bitter wrongs bitterly avenged. "To hate like

a Brandon and revenge like a Conisby!" This had been a saying in our

south country upon a time; and now--he was the last of his race as I

was the last of mine, and I had come back out of hell that this saying

might be fulfilled. Soon--ha, yes, in a few short hours the feud

should be ended once and for all and the house of Conisby avenged to

the uttermost. Thinking thus, I heeded no more the raving tempest

around me until, roused by the plunge and rattle of the gibbet-chains,

I raised my head and shaking my staff up at that black and shrivelled

thing, I laughed loud and fierce, and, even as I did so, there leapt a

great blaze of crackling flame and thereafter a thunder-clap that

seemed to shake the very earth and smite the roaring wind to awed

silence; and in this silence, I heard a whisper:

"O mercy of God!"

Somewhere in the darkness hard by a woman had cried. Instinctively I

turned thitherward, searching the night vainly until the lightning

flared again and I beheld a cloaked and hooded figure huddled miserably

against the bank of the road, and, as darkness came, I spoke:

"Woman, doth the gibbet fright you, or is't I? If 'tis the gibbet go

hence, if 'tis I rest assured."

"Who are you?" said a breathless voice.

"One of no more account than the poor thing that danceth aloft in his

chains and for you as harmless."

And now she was beside me, a dark, wind-blown shape, and above the

howling tempest her voice reached me in passionate pleading:

"Sir--sir, will you aid one in sore danger and distress?"

"Yourself?" I questioned.

"Nay--indeed nay," she panted, "'tis Marjorie, my poor, poor brave

Marjorie. They stopped my coach--drunken men. I know not what came of

Gregory and I leapt out and escaped them in the dark, but

Marjorie--they carried her off--there is a light down the lane yonder.

I followed and saw--O sir, you will save Marjorie--you are a man--"

A hand was upon my ragged sleeve, a hand that gripped and shook at me

in desperate supplication--"You will save her from--from worse than

death? Speak--speak!"

"Lead on!" quoth I, answering this compelling voice. The griping

fingers slipped down and clasped my hand in the dark, and with never

another word she led me away unseeing and unseen until we came where we

were more sheltered from rain and wind; and now I took occasion to

notice that the hand that gripped mine so masterfully was small and

soft, so that what with this and her voice and speech I judged her one

of condition. But my curiosity went no further nor did I question her,

for in my world was no place for women. So she led me on at haste

despite the dark--like one that was sure of her whereabouts--until I

suddenly espied a dim light that shone out from the open lattice of

what I judged to be a small hedge-tavern. Here my companion halted

suddenly and pointed to the light.

"Go!" she whispered. "Go--nay, first take this!" and she thrust a

small pistol into my hand. "Haste!" she panted, "O haste--and I do

pray God shield and bless you." Then with never a word I left her and

strode towards the beam of light.

Being come nigh the casement I paused to cock the weapon and to glance

at the priming, then, creeping to the open lattice, I looked into the

room.

Three men scowled at each other across a table--desperate-looking

fellows, scarred and ill-featured, with clothes that smacked of the

sea; behind them in a corner crouched a maid, comely of seeming but

pallid of cheek and with cloak torn by rough hands, and, as she

crouched, her wide eyes stared at the dice-box that one of the men was

shaking vigorously--a tall, hairy fellow this, with great rings in his

ears; thus stood he rattling the dice and smiling while his companions

cursed him hoarsely.

With a twist of the hand the hairy man made his throw, and as the three

evil heads stooped above the dice, I clambered through the window,

levelled pistol in one hand, heavy staff in the other.

"What d'ye set?" quoth I. The three sprang apart and stared at me

quite chapfallen.

"What's to do?" growled one.

"First your barking-irons--lay them here on the table and quick's the

word!" One after another they drew the weapons from their belts, and

one by one I tossed them through the window.

"What!" quoth one, a lank rogue with a patch over one eye and winking

the other jovial-wise, "How now, mate o' mine, shall dog bite dog then?"

"Aye," says I, "and with a will!"

"Nay, nay, shipmate," quoth another, a plump, small man with round,

bright eyes and but one ear, "easy now--easy. We be three lorn

mariners d'ye see--jolly dogs, bully boys, shipmate--a little fun wi' a

pretty lass--nought to harm d'ye see, sink me! Join us and welcome,

says I, share and share alike O!"

"Aye, I'll join you," quoth I, "but first--you wi' the rings--open the

door!" Here the hairy fellow growled an oath and reached for an empty

tankard, and thereupon got the end of my staff driven shrewdly into his

midriff so that he sank to the floor and lay gasping.

"Nay now, shipmate," quoth the plump man in wheedling tone but round

eyes snapping, "here's lubberly manners, sink and scuttle me--"

"Open the door!" says I.

"Heartily--heartily!" says he, his eye upon my cudgel, and edging to

the door, drew the bolts and set it wide.

"Woman," quoth I, "run!"

With never a word the maid sprang erect, caught her torn cloak about

her and, speeding across the room, was gone; whereupon the lank fellow

sat him down and fell a-cursing viciously in Spanish and English, the

plump man clicked his teeth and grinned, while 'Rings,' leaning against

the wall, clasped his belly and groaned.

"Well so, my bully roarer, and what now?" demanded the plump man,

softly.

"Why now," says I, "'twas share and share alike, I mind--"

"Aye, but she's off, slipped her moorings d'ye see, my good lad, and be

damned t' ye wi' all my heart," said the little plump man, smiling, but

with the devil peeping through his narrowed lids.

"Look'ee," says I, laying a groat upon the table, "there's my all--come

turn out your pockets--"

"Pockets!" murmured the plump man, "Lord love me, what's this? Here's

us cheated of a bit of daintiness, here's Abner wi' all the wind

knocked out o' him and now here's you for thieving and robbing three

poor lorn sailor-men as never raised hand agin ye--shame, shipmate."

"Od rot your bones!" snarled the one-eyed man and spat towards me,

whereat I raised my staff and he, lifting an arm, took the blow on his

elbow-joint and writhed, cursing; but while I laughed at the fellow's

contortions, the plump man sprang (marvellous nimble) and dashed out

the light and, as I stepped from before the window, I heard the lattice

go with a crash of glass. Followed a long, tense moment wherein we all

(as I judge) held our breath, for though the storm yet roared beyond

the shattered casement, within was a comparative quiet. Thus, as I

stood in the dark listening for some rustle, some stealthy creeping

step to guide my next blow, I thrust away my pistol and changing my

staff to my right hand, drew forth the broad-bladed sailor's knife I

carried, and so waited mighty eager and alert, but heard only the

far-off booming of the wind. Then a floorboard creaked faintly to my

left, and turning short, I whirled my staff, felt it strike home and

heard a fierce cry and the uneven tread of staggering feet.

"Fight, rogues!" cried I. "Here's meat and drink to me--fight!" and

setting my back to the wall I waited for their rush. Instead I heard a

hoarse whispering, lost all at once in a woman's shrill scream out

beyond the casement, and thereafter a loud voice that hailed:

"House ho! House ahoy! Light ho! Show a glim, ye drunken dogs!" and

here followed a rush of roaring sea-oaths, drowned in a scream, louder,

wilder than before. Then, while this distressful cry yet thrilled upon

the air, pandemonium broke loose about me, shouts, cries and a rush and

trample of feet; the table went over with a crash and the darkness

about me rained blows. But as they struck random and fierce, so struck

I and (as I do think) made right goodly play with my hedge-stake until,

caught by a chance blow, I staggered, tripped and, falling headlong,

found myself rolling upon sodden grass outside the shattered window.

For a moment I lay half-dazed and found in the wind and rain vasty

comfort and refreshment.

Then in the pitchy gloom hard by I heard that which brought me to my

feet--an evil scuffling, a close and desperate struggling--a man's

hoarse laugh and a woman's pitiful pleading and sobbing. I had lost my

staff, but I yet grasped my knife, and with this held point upwards and

my left hand outstretched before me, I crept forward guided by these

sounds. My fingers came upon hair, a woman's long, soft tresses, and I

remember marvelling at the silky feel of them; from these my hand

slipped to her waist and found there an arm that grasped her close,

then, drawing back my hand, I smote with my knife well beneath this arm

and drove in the stout blade twice. The fellow grunted and, loosing

the maid, leapt full at me, but I met him with clenched fist and he

went down headlong, and I, crouched above him and feeling him struggle

to his knees, kicked him back into the mud and thereafter leapt on him

with both feet as I had been wont to do when fighting my fellow-slaves

in some lazarette; then, seeing he stirred no more, I left him,

doubting nothing I had done his business. Yet as I went I felt myself

shiver, for though I had been compelled to fight the naked wretches who

had been my fellow-slaves, I had killed no man as yet.

Thus as I went, chancing to stumble against a tree, I leaned there

awhile; and now remembering those two blows under the armpit, what with

this stabbing and my fall and lack of food, for I had eaten but once

that day, I grew faint and sick. But as I leaned there, out of the

gloom came a hand that fumbled timidly my bowed head, my arm, my hand.

"Sir--are you hurt?" questioned a voice, and here once again I was

struck by the strange, vital quality of this voice, its bell-like depth

and sweetness.

"No whit!" says I. Now as I spoke it chanced she touched the knife in

my grasp and I felt her shiver a little.

"Did you--O sir--did you--kill him?"

"And wherefore no?" I questioned. "And why call me 'sir'?"

"You do speak as one of gentle birth."

"And go like the beggar I am--in rags. I am no 'sir.'"

"How may I call you?"

"Call me rogue, thief, murderer--what ye will, 'tis all one. But as

for you," quoth I, lifting my head, "'tis time you were gone--see

yonder!" and I pointed where a light winked through the trees, a light

that danced to and fro, coming slowly nearer until it stopped all at

once, then rose a shout answered by other shouts and a roar of dismayed

blasphemy. At this my companion pressed nearer so that I felt her

shiver again.

"Let us be gone!" she whispered. "Marjorie, come, child, let us

haste." So we went on together at speed, and ever as we went that

small, soft hand was upon the hand that held the knife. So we sped on

through the dark, these two maids and I, unseeing and unseen, speaking

little by reason of our haste.

Presently the rain ceased, the wind abated its rage and the thunder

pealed faint with distance, while ever and anon the gloom gave place to

a vague light, where, beyond the flying cloud-wrack, a faint moon

peeped.

Guided by that slender hand, so soft and yet instinct with warm and

vigorous life, I stumbled on through leafy ways, traversed a little

wood, on and ever on until, the trees thinning, showed beyond a glimmer

of the great high road. Here I stayed.

"Madam," says I, making some ado over the unfamiliar word. "You should

be safe now--and, as I do think, your road lieth yonder."

"Pembury is but a mile hence," says she, "and there we may get horses.

Come, at least this night you shall find comfort and shelter."

"No," says I. "No--I am a thing of the roads, and well enough in hedge

or rick!" and I would have turned but her hand upon my sleeve

restrained me.

"Sir," says she, "be you what you will, you are a man! Who you are I

know and care not--but you have this night wrought that I shall

nevermore forget and now I--we--would fain express our gratitude--"

"Indeed and indeed!" said the maid Marjorie, speaking for the first

time.

"I want no gratitude!" says I, mighty gruff.

"Yet shall it follow thee, for the passion of gratitude is strong and

may not be denied--even by beggar so proud and arrogant!" And now,

hearkening to this voice, so deep and soft and strangely sweet, I knew

not if she laughed at me or no; but even as I debated this within

myself, she lifted my hand, the hand that grasped the knife, and I felt

the close, firm pressure of two warm, soft lips; then she had freed me

and I fell back a step, striving for speech yet finding none.

"God love me!" quoth I at last. "Why must you--do so!"

"And wherefore not?" she questioned proudly.

"'Tis the hand of a vagrant, an outcast, a poor creeper o' ditches!"

says I.

"But a man's hand!" she answered.

"'Tis at hand that hath slain once this night and shall slay again ere

many hours be sped." Now here I heard her sigh as one that is troubled.

"And yet," says she gently, "'tis no murderer's hand and you that are

vagrant and outcast are no rogue."

"How judge ye this, having never seen me?" I questioned.

"In that I am a woman. For God hath armed our weakness with a gift of

knowledge whereby we may oft-times know truth from falsehood, the noble

from the base, 'spite all their outward seeming. So do I judge you no

rogue--a strong man but very--aye, very young that, belike, hath

suffered unjustly, and being so young art fierce and impatient of all

things, and apt to rail bitterly 'gainst the world. Is't not so?"

"Aye," says I, marvelling, "truly 'tis like witchcraft--mayhap you will

speak me my name." At this she laughed (most wonderful to hear and

vastly so to such coarse rogue as I, whose ears had long been strangers

to aught but sounds of evil and foul obscenity):

"Nay," says she, "my knowledge of you goeth no further--but--" (and

here she paused to fetch a shuddering breath) "but for him you

killed--that two-legged beast! You did but what I would have done

for--O man, had you not come I--I should have killed him, maid though I

am! See, here is the dagger I snatched from his girdle as he strove

with me. O, take it--take it!" And, with a passionate gesture, she

thrust the weapon into my grasp.

"O madam--my lady!" cried her companion, "Look, yonder be

lights--lanthorns aflare on the road. 'Tis Gregory as I do think, with

folk come to seek for us. Shall we go meet them?"

"Nay wait, child--first let us be sure!" So side by side we stood all

three amid the dripping trees, watching the tossing lights that grew

ever nearer until we might hear the voices of those that bare them,

raised, ever and anon, in confused shouting.

"Aye, 'tis Gregory!" sighed my lady after some while. "He hath raised

the village and we are safe--"

"Hark!" cried I, starting forward. "What name do they cry upon?"

"Mine, sir!"

"Oho, my lady!" roared the hoarse chorus. "Oho, my Lady Joan--my Lady

Brandon--Brandon--Brandon!"

"Brandon!" cried I, choking upon the word.

"Indeed, sir--I am the Lady Joan Brandon of Shene Manor, and so long as

life be mine needs must I bear within my grateful heart the memory of--"

But, waiting for no more, I turned and sprang away into the denser

gloom of the wood. And ever as I went, crashing and stumbling through

the underbrush, above the noise of my headlong flight rang the hated

name of the enemy I had journeyed so far to kill--"Brandon! Brandon!

Brandon!"