HOW I HAD SPEECH WITH ROGER TRESSADY TO MY UNDOING
For maybe a full minute we fronted each other unmoving and with never a
word; and thus at last I beheld this man Tressady.
A tall, lusty fellow, square of face and with pale eyes beneath a jut
of shaggy brow. A vivid neckerchief was twisted about his head and in
his hairy ears swung great gold rings; his powerful right hand was
clenched to knotted fist, in place of his left glittered the deadly
hook.
"Sink me!" says he at last, drawing clenched fist across his brow,
"Sink me, but ye gave me a turn, my lord! Took ye for a ghost, I did,
the ghost of a shipmate o' mine, one as do lie buried yonder, nought
but poor bones--aye, rotten bones--as this will be soon!" Here he
spurned the dead man with his foot. "'Tis black rogue this, my lord,
one as would ha' made worm's-meat o' poor Tressady--aye, a lump o'
murdered clay like my shipmate Bartlemy yonder--but for this Silver
Woman o' mine!" Here he stooped for the dagger, and having cleaned it
in the sand, held it towards me upon his open palm: "Aha, here's woman
hath never failed me yet! She's faithful and true, friend, faithful
and true, this Silver Woman o' mine. But 'tis an ill world, my master,
and full o' bloody rogues like this sly dog as stole ashore to murder
me--the fool! O 'tis a black and bloody world."
"So it is!" quoth I, 'twixt shut teeth, "And all the worse for the
likes o' you, Roger Tressady!"
"So ho--he knoweth my name then!" says Tressady, rubbing shaven chin
with silver dagger-hilt and viewing me with his pale, keen gaze: "But
do I know him now--do I?"
"I know you for pirate and damned murderer, Roger Tressady, so shall
you quit this island this very hour or stay here to rot along with
Bartlemy and Red Andy!"
Now at this (and all careless of my pistol) he drew a slow pace nearer,
great head out-thrust, peering.
"Why," says he at last, "why--bleed me! If--if it aren't--aye
'tis--Martin! Why for sure 'tis my bonnet Marty as saved my skin time
and again aboard the 'Faithful Friend!' Though ye go mighty fine, lad,
mighty fine! But good luck t'ye and a fair wind, say I!" And
thrusting the dagger into his girdle he nodded mighty affable. "But
look'ee now, Marty, here's me wishing ye well and you wi' a barker in
your fist, 'tis no fashion to greet a shipmate, I'm thinking."
"Enough words!" says I, stepping up to him. "Do you go--alive, or stay
here dead--which?"
"Split me!" says he, never stirring. "But 'tis small choice you offer,
Marty--"
"My name's Martin!"
"And a curst good name too, Marty. But I've no mind to be worm's-meat
yet awhile--no! Come, what's your quarrel wi' me? First Andy would
murder me and now 'tis you--why for? Here's me wi' a heart of gold t'
cherish a friend and never a friend t' cherish! What's your quarrel,
lad, what?"
"Quarrel enough, what with your drugging me and murder aboard ship--"
"Avast, lad! Here's unchancy talk, ill and unmannered!"
"You murdered divers men aboard the 'Faithful Friend.'"
"Only three, Marty, only three--poor souls! Though yours is a foul
word for't. I took 'em off, lad, took 'em off as a matter of policy.
I've never took off any yet as I wasn't forced to by circumstances.
Look'ee, there's men in this world born to be took off by someone or
other, and they always come a-drifting across my hawse and get took off
accordingly, but don't blame me, lad, don't. And as for a-drugging of
ye, Marty, true again! But love me! What was I to do? But I didn't
take you off, lad, no, nor never shall unless you and policy force me
so to do. I'm no murderer born--like Adam--curse him! Clap me
alongside Adam and I'm a turtle-dove, a babe for innocence and a lamb
for meekness! There never was such a murderer born into this wicked
world as Adam Penfeather, with a curse! 'Twas he as murdered Black
Bartlemy and nine sweet, bright lads arter him, murdered 'em here one
by one, and wi' a parchment rove about the neck of each poor corpse,
Marty. 'Twas he as drove their mates out to sea to perish in a leaky
boat--ask Abnegation Mings! 'Twas him nigh murdered me more than once,
aye me, lad, as can't BE killed according to the prophecy of the poor
mad soul aboard the old 'Delight.' Why Adam, curse him, has murdered
more men than you have years. And talking of him, how cometh it you
aren't blown t' hell along wi' him and the rest?"
"Do you tell me Adam is dead?"
"Blown up aboard the 'Faithful Friend,' lad. Just after we run her
aboard and grappled, aye blew up she did and nigh took us wi' her.
Aha, but Adam's dead at last, curse him! Unless he can't be killed
either, unless he is--"
Here, and all at once, he turned to stare away across Deliverance, then
shrinking, cowered towards me as in sudden terror stabbing at the empty
air with his glittering hook:
"Ha--what's yon!" cried he in awful voice; and I turning whither his
glaring eyes stared (and half-dreading to behold my lady) had the
pistol wrenched from my hold and the muzzle under my ear all in a
moment; and stood scowling and defenceless like the vast fool I was.
"Split me!" says he, tapping me gently with his hook "O blind me if I
thought ye such a lubberly fool! So old a trick, Marty! Now look'ee,
were I a murderer and loved it--like Adam, curse him--I should pull
trigger! But being Roger Tressady wi' a heart o' gold, I say sit down,
lad, sit down and let us talk, friend, let us talk. Come--sit down!
Never mind Andy, he shan't trouble us!" So with the pistol at my ear
we sat down side by side and the dead man sprawling at our feet.
"Now first, Marty lad, how come ye here alone on Bartlemy's
island--how?"
But sitting thus chin on fist I stared down at Red Andy's stiffening
body silent as he, I being too full of fierce anger and bitter scorn of
my folly for speech.
"Come, come, Marty, be sociable!" says Tressady, tapping my cheek with
the pistol-muzzle, "Was it Penfeather sent ye hither t' give an eye
to--the treasure? Was it?"
"Aye!"
"'Twould be the night he made the crew drunk and spoiled my plans. Ha,
'twas like him--a cunning rogue! But for this I'd have had the ship
and him and the treasure. O a right cunning, fierce rogue was Adam,
and none to match him but me."
"But he nearly did for you once!" says I bitterly, "And he such a
small, timid man!"
"Look'ee, Martin, when Adam grows timid 'tis time for your bold,
desperate fellows to beware! But he's dead at last, though I'd ha'
felt more comfort, aye I'd ha' took it kinder had he been took off by
my Silver Woman--or this!" Here he thrust his hook before my eyes.
"It ain't a pretty thing, Martin, not pretty, no--but 'tis useful at
all times and serves to shepherd my lambs wi' now and then, 'tis
likewise a mighty persuading argument, but, and best of all--'tis sure,
lad, sure. So I'd ha' took it kinder had I watched him go off on this,
lad, this. My hook for my enemies and for my friends a heart o' gold!
And, talking o' gold, Marty, what--what o' Bartlemy's Treasure?"
"You are happily welcome to it for all me."
"Why, that's spoke manly and like a friend, rot me but it is! And now
where might it lie, Marty, where?"
"I've no idea."
"What ha'n't ye found it, lad?"
"No!"
"Not even--seen it, then?"
"No!"
"Why, think o' that now, think of that! And you wi'--a fortun' o'
pearls on you, Marty. These pearl studs and buttons, lad. Pearls--ha,
pearls was meat and drink to Bartlemy. And here's you wi' pearls I've
seen on Bartlemy many a time. And yet you ha'n't found the treasure,
says you. If I was a passionate man, Marty, I should call ye liar,
says I. Howsoever what I do say is--as you've forgot, and very right
and proper. But we'm friends, you and me, so far, and so, 'twixt
friends, I ask you to think again until you remember, and to think
hard, lad, hard."
Now as I sat (and miserably enough) staring down at my jewelled buttons
that seemed to leer up at me like so many small, malevolent eyes, upon
the air rose a distant stir that grew and grew to sound of voices with
the creak and rumble of oars.
"Here come my lambs at last, Marty, and among 'em some o' the lads as
sailed wi' Bartlemy aboard the 'Delight.' There's Sam Spraggons for
one--Smiling Sam as you'll mind aboard the 'Faithful Friend.' Now the
Smiler knoweth many and divers methods of persuasion, Marty lad, tricks
learned of the Indians as shall persuade a man to anything in this
world. But first, seeing 'tis you, Martin, as played 'bonnet' to me
and saved my life aboard ship, though all unknowing, here's my offer:
show me how to come by Bartlemy's Treasure as is mine--mine by rights,
let me get my hands on to it and none the wiser, and there shall be
share for you, Marty lad, share for you. Otherwise I must let Sam try
to persuade you to remember where it lieth--come, what d'ye say?"
"What--you'll torture me then?"
"If I must, friend, if I must. 'Tis for you to say."
"Why then 'twill be labour in vain, Tressady, for I swear I know nought
of this treasure--"
"Sit still, lad, sit still!" says he, clapping the pistol to my ear
again. "Though a fool in many ways, Marty, you're proper enough man to
look at and 'twill be pity to cripple ye! Aye, there won't be much
left when Sam is done wi' you, more's the pity."
Hereupon he hailed loudly and was answered from the lagoon, and
glancing thither, I saw two boats crowded with men pulling for the
beach.
"A wildish company, Martin, desperate fellows as ever roved the Main,
as I do love no more than they love me. So say the word and we'll
share Black Bartlemy's treasure betwixt us, just you and me, lad, me
and you! Come, what's your will?" But shaking my head (and hopelessly
enough) I set my teeth and watched the coming of my tormentors.
And foremost was a short, plump, bright-eyed man who lacked an ear, and
at his elbows two others, the one a lank rogue with a patch over one
eye, the third a tall, hairy fellow.
And observing them as they came I knew them for those same three rogues
I had fought with in the hedge-tavern beside Pembury Hill on that night
I had first seen my dear lady. Hard upon their heels came a riotous
company variously armed and accoutred, who forthwith thronged upon me
pushing and jostling for sight of me, desecrating the quiet night with
their hoarse and clamorous ribaldry. Unlovely fellows indeed and clad
in garments of every shape and cut, from stained home spun and tattered
shirts to velvet coats be-laced and gold-braided; and beholding this
tarnished and sordid finery, these clothes looted from sinking ships
and blazing towns, I wondered vaguely what had become of their late
owners.
At gesture from Tressady I was dragged to my feet and my arms jerked,
twisted and bound before me crosswise, and so stood I helpless and in
much painful discomfort whiles Tressady harangued his fellows, tapping
me gently with his hook:
"Look'ee, my bullies," quoth he, "I promised ye gold a' plenty and
here, somewhere on this island, it lieth waiting to be found. It
needeth but for this fool Martin here, as some o' you will mind for
Adam Penfeather's comrade, with a curse, it needeth but for him to
speak, I say, and in that same hour each one o' you may fill your
clutch wi' more treasure than ever came out o' Eldorado or Manoa--so
speak he must and shall--eh bullies, eh?"
"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" they roared, pressing upon me with a shaking of
fists and glitter of eager steel.
"Twist his thumbs, Cap'n!" cried one.
"Slit his nose!" roared another.
"Trim his yeres!" cried a third. But Tressady silenced them with a
flourish of his hook.
"Hark'ee, lads!" says he. "You all mean well, but you're bunglers,
here's a little delicate matter as none can handle like the Smiler.
There's none like Sam can make a man give tongue! Pass the word for
Smiling Sam! Step forward, Sammy."
Hereupon cometh the great, fat fellow Spraggons who had been bo'sun's
mate aboard the "Faithful Friend," forcing his way with vicious elbows
and mighty anxious to come at me.
"O love my limbs!" says he in his high-pitched voice and blinking his
hairless lids at me, "O cherish my guts--leave him to me, Cap'n! Sam's
the lad to make this yer cock crow. See now--a good, sharp knife
'neath the finger or toe-nails--drew slow, mates, slow! Or a hot iron
close agen his eyes is good. Or boiling water poured in his yeres
might serve. Then--aha, Cap'n! I know a dainty little trick, a small
cord, d'ye see, twisted athwart his head just a-low the brows, twisted
and twisted--as shall start his eyes out right pretty to behold. I
mind too as Lollonais had a trick o' bursting a man's guts wi' water--"
"Bring him to the beach yonder!" says Tressady, watching me ever with
his pale eyes, "There shall be more room for't yonder!"
So they hailed me along betwixt them, and with huge merriment; but
scarce were we out of the cove and hard beside Bartlemy's tree than I
started to the vicious prick of a knife, and whirling about despite the
fierce hands that sought to hold me, I saw Smiling Sam about to stab me
again. But now, as I strove with my reeling captors, was a flicker of
vicious steel as Tressady sprang and, whipping his hook beneath the
great fellow's belt, whirled Smiling Sam from his feet despite his
prodigious weight and forthwith trampled upon him.
"So-ho, my merry lad!" quoth Tressady, glaring down into Smiling Sam's
convulsed face, "And must ye be at it afore I give the word? Who's
captain here--who? Come speak up, my roaring boy!" and he thrust his
hook beneath the Smiler's great, flabby chin.
"Mercy, Cap'n--mercy!" cried Spraggons, his high-pitched voice rising
to a pitiful squeal. "Not the hook, Cap'n--O Lord love me--not the
hook!"
"Hook? And why not, Sam, why not? 'Tis sharp and clean and quick, and
hath done the business o' nicer rogues than you, bully, aye and better,
Sam, better--"
"O Cap'n--for God's sake--"
"Who're you to call on God so glib, Sammy? 'Tis marvel He don't strike
ye blind, lad. Or there's your innards, Sam, here's that may whip out
your liver, lad--So!" I saw the glitter of the hook, heard Smiling
Sam's gasping scream as the steel bit into him, and then Tressady was
on his feet smiling round upon his awed and silent company.
"Look'ee, bullies!" says he, pointing to the Smiler's inanimate form,
"Here's poor Sam all swounded away at touch o' my hook like any
woman--and him my bo'sun! Pshaw! I want a man!" Here he stooped, and
wrenching the silver pipe from Smiling Sam's fat throat stared from one
shuffling rogue to another: "Step forward, Abner," says he at last,
"Come, you'll do--you're a prime sailor-man, you're my bo'sun
henceforth."
But now Smiling Sam awaking from his swoon moaned feebly and sat up:
"Not the hook, Cap'n!" he wailed, "O not that--"
"No, Smiler, no, I keep it for better men. Disobey me again and I'll
drown ye in a puddle. And now up wi' you, Sammy, up wi' you and stand
by to teach Martin here how to talk."
"Aye, aye, Cap'n--aye, aye!" says the gross fellow, rising nimbly
enough, whiles his comrades closed about us expectant, and glancing
from me to Tressady where he had seated himself on a boulder:
"Here will do!" says he, pointing to a brilliant strip of moonlit sand
midway betwixt the shadows of the cliff and Bartlemy's tree. "On his
back, hearties, and grapple him fast, he's strong well-nigh as I am.
Now his hand, Smiler, his right hand--"
"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" quoth the fellow, kneeling above me where I lay
helpless. "Will I cut it adrift--slow like?" And as he flourished his
knife I saw a trickle of saliva at the corners of his great, loose
mouth, "Off at the wrist, Cap'n, or fingers first?"
"No, fool! His thumb-nail first--try that!"
Sweating and with every nerve a-quiver I watched that cruel knife,
holding my breath in expectation of the coming agony, and then--from
the black gloom of the cliff beyond burst a sudden echoing roar, I
heard the whine of a bullet and immediately all was confusion and
uproar, shouts of dismay and a wild rush for shelter from this sudden
attack. But as I struggled to my knees Tressady's great hand gripped
my throat, and dragging me behind a boulder he pinned me there.
"Stand by, lads!" he roared. "Level at the cliff yonder, but let no
man pull trigger! Wait till they fire again and mark the flash!"
Helpless in my bonds and crushed beneath Tressady's knee I heard a stir
and rustle to right and left of me, the click of cocking triggers and
thereafter--silence. And, marking the gleam of pistol and
musket-barrel, I fell to an agony of dread, well knowing whence that
merciful shot had come. For mayhap five minutes nought was to hear
save the rustle of stealthy arm or leg and the sound of heavy
breathing, until at length one spoke, loud-voiced:
"What now, Captain? Us can't bide here all night."
"How many are we, Purdy?"
"Thirty and nine, Captain."
"Then do you take ten and scale the starboard cliff and you, Abner,
with other ten take the cliff to larboard. I'll bide here wi' the rest
and so we'll have 'em--"
"Them cliffs be perilous high, Cap'n!"
"My hook is more perilous, Tom Day! Off wi' you, ye dogs, or I'll show
ye a liver yet and be--"
He stopped all at once as, faint at first yet most dreadful to hear,
there rose a man's cry, chilling the flesh with horror, a cry that
waxed and swelled louder and louder to a hideous screaming that
shrilled upon the night and, sinking to an awful bubbling murmur, was
gone.
Up sprang Tressady to stare away across Deliverance whence this
dreadful cry had come, and I saw his hook tap-tapping at his great
chin; then beyond these shining sands was the thunderous roar of a
great gun, a furious rattle of small-arms that echoed and re-echoed
near and far, and thereafter single shots in rapid succession.
Hereupon rose shouts and cries of dismay:
"Lord love us we'm beset! O Cap'n, we be took fore and aft. What shall
us do, Cap'n? Yon was a gun. What o' the ship, Cap'n--what o' the
ship?"
"Yonder--look yonder! Who comes?" cried Tressady, pointing towards
Deliverance Beach with his glittering hook.
Twisting my head as I lay, I looked whither he pointed, and saw one
that ran towards us, yet in mighty strange fashion, reeling in wide
zig-zags like a drunken man; and sometimes he checked, only to come on
again, and sometimes he fell, only to struggle up.
"By God--it's Abnegation!" cries Tressady. "'Tis my comrade Mings!
Look to the prisoner, ye dogs--you Tom Purdy! I'm for Abnegation!"
And off he went at a run. At his going was mighty talk and discussion
what they should do, some men being for stealing away in the boats,
others for taking to the woods, and all clean forgetting me where I
lay. But suddenly they fell silent all for Abnegation was hailing
feebly, and was come so nigh that we might see him, his face all
bloody, his knees bending under him with weakness as he stumbled on.
Suddenly, beholding Tressady, he stopped and hailed him in wild,
gasping voice:
"Roger--O Roger! The devil's aboard us, Roger--Penfeather's on
us--Penfeather's took the ship--I'm all that's left alive! They killed
Sol first--did ye--hear him die, Roger? O did ye hear--"
I saw him fall and Tressady run to lift him, and watched these pirate
rogues as, with oaths and cries of dismay, they hasted hither to throng
about the two; then, rolling into the nearest shadow I struggled to my
feet and found myself beneath the spreading branches of Bartlemy's
tree. And now, as I strove desperately against the rope that bit into
the flesh of me, I felt the rope fall away, felt two soft arms close
about me and a soft breath on my cheek:
"Martin--O thank God!" Turning, I caught my dear, brave lady to my
heart. Heedless of aught else in the world beside I clasped her in my
aching arms, and kissed her until she stayed me and showing me where
stood our enemies, a wild disordered company, took my hand and began to
run. Reaching the cliff we climbed together nor stayed until she had
brought me to a little cave where lay an arquebus together with
bandoliers. "I tried to reload it, dear Martin, but 'twas vain--my
poor, silly hands shook so. For, O my dear, I--heard them--saw them
and--thought I should run mad--O Martin my love!"
So now whiles I loaded the arquebus I told her as well as I might
something of what I thought concerning her brave spirit, of my undying
love for her, though in fashion very lame and halting. Thereafter, the
weapon being ready I placed it near and, sitting within the gloom of
this little cave, I took my love into my arms, her dear head pillowed
on my breast, and kissed the tremors from her sweet mouth and the
horror from her eyes. And thus with her arms about my neck and her
soft, smooth cheek against mine, we waited for what was to be.