IN WHICH I AM A PIRATE
With my own hands I have trained that prize, Hiroshimi, to cook and to
serve; but only Providence could give Hiroshimi his super-humanly
disinterested calm. He fitted perfectly into the picture of our dream.
'Twas no ordinary log house in which we sat, indeed no house at all.
Beneath us rose and fell a stanch vessel, responsive to the long lift
of the southern seas. It was not a rustle of the leaves we heard
through the open windows, but the low ripple of waves along our
strakes came to our ears through the open ports. Hiroshimi did not
depart to the kitchen; but high aloft our lookout swept the sea for
sail that might offer us a prize.
If any say that this manner of illusion may not exist between two boys
and a man, I answer that we did not thus classify it. By the new
pleasure in my soul, by the new blood in my cheek, I swear we were
three boys together, and all in quest of adventure.
True, at times our speech smacked less of nautical and piratical
phrase, at times, indeed, halted. It is difficult for a
twelve-year-old pirate, exceeding hungry, to ask for a third helping
of grilled chicken in a voice at once stern and ingratiating.
Moreover, it is difficult for a discreet and law-abiding citizen, with
a full sense of duty, deliberately to aid and abet two youthful
runaways. But whenever illusion wavered, L'Olonnois saved the day by
resuming his stern scowl, even above a chicken-bone. His facility in
rolling speech I discovered to be, in part, attributable to a volume
which I saw protruding from his pocket. At my request he passed it to
me, and I saw its title; _The Pirate's Own Book_. I knew it well.
Indeed, I now arose, and passing to my bookshelves, drew down a
duplicate copy of that rare volume, recounting the deeds of the old
buccaneers. The eyes of L'Olonnois widened as I laid the two side by
side.
"You've got it, too!" he exclaimed.
I nodded.
"That explains it," said Jean Lafitte.
"Explains what?"
"Why, how you--why now--how you could be a pirate, too, just as
natural as us."
"I have read it many a time," said I.
"Wasn't you never a pirate?" asked Jean Lafitte.
"No," said I, smiling, "although many have said my father was. He was
very rich."
"Well, you can talk just like us," said Jean Lafitte admiringly, "even
if you have lost all."
"Of course," said I exultingly. "Why not? I think as you do. As much
as you I am disgusted with the dulness of life. I, too, wish to seek
my fortune. Well then, why not, John Saunders? Why not, James
Henderson?"
Ah, now indeed illusion halted! Both boys, abashed, fell back in their
chairs. "How did you know our names?" asked the older of the two at
length.
"Nay, fear not," said I. "I do but seek to prove my fitness to join
the jolly brotherhood, good mates."
"Aw, honest!" rejoined Jimmy; "you got to tell us how you knew."
"Well, then, let me go on. In your book, here, I saw your father's
name, Jimmy. I know your father. He is Judge Willard Henderson of the
Appellate Court in the city. I was admitted to the bar under him. He
has a summer place at the lake above here, as I know, although I have
never visited him there. I know your mother, too, Jimmy,--so well I
should not like to cause her even a moment's uneasiness about you."
"Do you know my auntie, Helena Emory?" demanded Jimmy suddenly. I felt
the blood surge into my face.
"Don't misunderstand me," I rejoined, "I only have some gift of the
second sight, as I shall now prove to you. For instance, Jean Lafitte,
I know your earlier name was John Saunders, although I never saw or
heard of you before."
"Well, now, how'd you know that?" demanded the elder boy.
"I did not promise to tell the secrets of my art," I smiled. I did not
tell him that I had seen the name of Saunders on the tag of a shirt
somewhat soiled.
"Your father's name was John before you," I added at a venture. He
assented, half-frightened, although I had only guessed at this,
supposing John Saunders to be a somewhat continuous family name in a
family of auburn Highlanders.
"He sells farm stuff at the hotel above," I ventured. And again my
guess was truth.
"You take the wagon there, sometimes, with vegetables and milk and
eggs; and so you met Jimmy, here, and you went fishing together; and
he told you stories out of his book. I fear, John, that your father
licks you because you go fishing on Sunday. That was why you resolved
to run away. You led Jimmy into that with you. Yesterday you took a
boat from the lake near the hotel, and you painted her up and rigged
her for a pirate ship. You rowed across the lake to the marsh where
the little stream makes out--my trout-stream here. You followed that
stream down, with no more trouble than ducking under a wire fence
once in a while, until you came to my land, and until you saw me. You
were afraid I might tell on you; and besides, you were pirates now;
and so you took me prisoner. Marry, good Sirs, 'tis not the first time
a prisoner has joined a pirate band!"
"That's wonderful!" gasped Jean T. Lafitte Saunders. "And you say you
have never been up to our lake!"
"No," said I, "but I have a map, and I know my river heads in your
lake, and that very probably it runs out of the low marshy side.
Besides, being a boy myself, I know precisely what boys would do. Tell
me, do you think I would betray two of the brotherhood?"
"You won't give us away?" The elder pirate's face was eager.
"On the contrary, I'll see that you don't get into any trouble."
"That's a good scout!" ejaculated he fervently, his freckled face
flushing.
"We wasn't--that is, we hadn't--well, you see?" began Jimmy. "Maybe
we'd just have camped down here and gone back to-morrow. I was afraid
about taking the boat. Besides, I've only got about six dollars,
anyhow." He spread his wealth out upon the table before me frankly.
"Have no fear," said I. "To-night I shall write a few letters that
will clear up every trouble back home, and allow us to continue our
journey to the Spanish Main."
"Oh, will you?" cried Jimmy, much relieved. "That'll be a good scout,"
he added.
Suddenly I found myself smiling at him, I who had smiled so rarely
these years, whether in the Selkirks or the Himalayas, in Uganda or
here in my own little wilderness--because Helena had left me so sad.
"But if I promise, you, also, must promise in turn."
Used as I was, already, to the astounding changes in Jimmy from boy to
buccaneer and back again, I was now interested at the fell scowl which
he summoned to his features, as soon as he felt relieved as to the
domestic situation. "Speak, fellow!" he demanded; and folding his
arms, presented so threatening a front that I saw my man Hiroshimi
covertly lay hold upon a carving knife.
"Why, then, my hearties," said I, "'tis thus. I'll sign on as
sea-lawyer and scrivener, as well as purser for the ship. Yes, I'll
sign articles and voyage with you for a week or a month, or two
months, or three. I'll provender the ship and pay all bills of libel
or demurrage in any port of call; and by my fateful gift of second
sight, which ye have seen well proven here to-night, not only will I
see ye safe for what ye already have done, but will keep ye safe
against any enemy we may meet, be he whom he may!"
"'Tis well," said L'Olonnois. "Say on!"
"And in return I ask a boon."
"Name it, fellow!"
"Already I have named it--that I, too, shall be accepted as one of the
brotherhood. Oh, listen"--I broke out impulsively--"I have never been
a pirate, and I have never been a boy. I have had everything in the
world I wanted and it made me awfully lonesome, because when you have
everything you have nothing. I have nothing to do but eat and sleep,
and hunt and fish, and read and write, and study and think, and play
my music, here. I do not want to do these things any more. Especially
I do not want to think. Boys do not think, and I want to be a boy. I
want to be a pirate with you. I want to seek my fortune with you."
We sat silent, almost solemn for a moment, so sincere was my speech
and so startling to them. But thanks to L'Olonnois and his saving
book, illusion came to us once more in time.
"Will ye be good brother and true pirate?" demanded L'Olonnois. "And
will ye take the oath of blood?"
"That I will!" said I.
"Brothers and good shipmates all"--broke in Jean Lafitte in a deep
voice--"what say ye? Shall we put him to the oath?"
"Aye, aye, Sir!" responded the deep chorus of scores of full-chested
voices. Or, at least, so it seemed to us, though, mayhap, 'twas no
more than Jimmy who spoke.
"Swear him, then!" commanded Jean Lafitte. "Swear him by the oath of
blood."
"We--we haven't any blood!" whispered L'Olonnois, aside, somewhat
troubled.
"That have we, mates," said I, "and the ceremony shall have full
solemnity."
I took up my keen hunting knife and deliberately and slowly opened the
side of my thumb, more to the pain of Jimmy, I fancy, than to myself,
as I could see by the twitch of his features.
"By this blood I swear!" said I: "and on the point of my blade I swear
to be a true pirate; to fight the fight of all; to divulge no plans of
the company; and to share with my brothers share and share alike of
all booty we may take."
"'Tis well!" said L'Olonnois, much impressed and delighted, as also
was his mate, very evidently.
"And now, my brothers," said I, "you, also, must swear to divulge no
secret of mine that you may learn, to tell nothing of my plans, or my
name, or the name of the port where I signed on the rolls."
"We don't know your name," said Jimmy, "but neither of us will give
you away."
Jean Lafitte was all for opening up his own thumb for blood, but I
stopped him. "This will do," said I, and stained his fingers and those
of L'Olonnois--who grew pale at sight of it to his evident disgust.
So, thus, I became a pirate, and we three were brother rovers of the
deep. I fancied my associates would be loyal. I was thinking of a
certain cousin of the younger pirate. Not for worlds would I seek to
pursue her now; but there had arisen in my soul, already, a sort of
strange wonder whether some intent of fate had sent this youngster
here to remind me once more of her, whom I would forget.
"Now," said I at last, "let us seek what fare the castle offers for
the night." I could see they were tired and sleepy, and so found for
them bath and clean pajamas--somewhat too large to be sure--and good
beds in the wing of my log house. And never, as I be a true pirate,
never have I seen so many and so various single-fire and revolving
short arms, in my life, as these two buccaneers disclosed when they
unbelted and laid aside their jackets! Even thus equipped, I found
them looking enviously at my walls, where hung weapons of many lands.
I sent them to bed happier by telling them that, in the morning, they
should select such as they chose for the equipment of our vessel.
"Gee!" said Jean Lafitte again. "Gee! _Gee!_" He was so happy that I,
too, was happy. It was L'Olonnois who changed that.
"Methinks," said he, regarding me sternly, "that in yonder ivy-clad
halls might dwell some lady fair! Tell me, is it not so?"
He stretched a thin arm out, in the sleeve of my smallest pajamas, and
pointed a slender finger at the interior of my castle of dreams. Alas,
after all it was empty! My old melancholy came back to me.
"No, my brothers," said I, "no maid has ever passed yon door. No, nor
ever will."
L'Olonnois bent his flaxen head in dignified and manly sympathy. "I
see," said he, "our brother in his youth has, perhaps, been deceived
by some fair one!"
Upon which I left them for my own room.
If two buccaneers in my castle slept well that night, a third did not.
Anopheles might go hang. I did not fancy my new microscope. I doubted
if my last violin were a real Strad. I did not like the last music my
dealers had sent out to me. My studies of Confucius and Buddha might
go hang, and my new book as well. For now, before me, came the face of
a certain pirate's aunt, and she was indeed a lady fair. And I knew
full well--as I had known all these years, although I had tried to
deceive myself into believing otherwise--that gladly as I had
exchanged the city for the wilderness, with equal gladness would I
exchange my leisure, all my wealth, all my belongings, for a moment's
touch of her hand, a half-hour of talk heart-to-heart with her, so
that, indeed, I might know the truth; so that, at least, I might have
it direct from her, bitter though the truth might be.