Peter Blood stood in the pillared portico of Government House, and with
unseeing eyes that were laden with pain and anger, stared out across the
great harbour of Port Royal to the green hills rising from the farther
shore and the ridge of the Blue Mountains beyond, showing hazily through
the quivering heat.
He was aroused by the return of the negro who had gone to announce him,
and following now this slave, he made his way through the house to the
wide piazza behind it, in whose shade Colonel Bishop and my Lord Julian
Wade took what little air there was.
“So ye've come,” the Deputy-Governor hailed him, and followed the
greeting by a series of grunts of vague but apparently ill-humoured
import.
He did not trouble to rise, not even when Lord Julian, obeying the
instincts of finer breeding, set him the example. From under scowling
brows the wealthy Barbados planter considered his sometime slave, who,
hat in hand, leaning lightly upon his long beribboned cane, revealed
nothing in his countenance of the anger which was being steadily
nourished by this cavalier reception.
At last, with scowling brow and in self-sufficient tones, Colonel Bishop
delivered himself.
“I have sent for you, Captain Blood, because of certain news that has
just reached me. I am informed that yesterday evening a frigate left the
harbour having on board your associate Wolverstone and a hundred men of
the hundred and fifty that were serving under you. His lordship and I
shall be glad to have your explanation of how you came to permit that
departure.”
“Permit?” quoth Blood. “I ordered it.”
The answer left Bishop speechless for a moment. Then:
“You ordered it?” he said in accents of unbelief, whilst Lord Julian
raised his eyebrows. “'Swounds! Perhaps you'll explain yourself? Whither
has Wolverstone gone?”
“To Tortuga. He's gone with a message to the officers commanding the
other four ships of the fleet that is awaiting me there, telling them
what's happened and why they are no longer to expect me.”
Bishop's great face seemed to swell and its high colour to deepen. He
swung to Lord Julian.
“You hear that, my lord? Deliberately he has let Wolverstone loose upon
the seas again--Wolverstone, the worst of all that gang of pirates after
himself. I hope your lordship begins at last to perceive the folly of
granting the King's commission to such a man as this against all my
counsels. Why, this thing is... it's just mutiny... treason! By God!
It's matter for a court-martial.”
“Will you cease your blather of mutiny and treason and courts-martial?”
Blood put on his hat, and sat down unbidden. “I have sent Wolverstone
to inform Hagthorpe and Christian and Yberville and the rest of my lads
that they've one clear month in which to follow my example, quit piracy,
and get back to their boucans or their logwood, or else sail out of the
Caribbean Sea. That's what I've done.”
“But the men?” his lordship interposed in his level, cultured voice.
“This hundred men that Wolverstone has taken with him?”
“They are those of my crew who have no taste for King James's service,
and have preferred to seek work of other kinds. It was in our compact,
my lord, that there should be no constraining of my men.”
“I don't remember it,” said his lordship, with sincerity.
Blood looked at him in surprise. Then he shrugged. “Faith, I'm not to
blame for your lordship's poor memory. I say that it was so; and I
don't lie. I've never found it necessary. In any case ye couldn't have
supposed that I should consent to anything different.”
And then the Deputy-Governor exploded.
“You have given those damned rascals in Tortuga this warning so that
they may escape! That is what you have done. That is how you abuse the
commission that has saved your own neck!”
Peter Blood considered him steadily, his face impassive. “I will
remind you,” he said at last, very quietly, “that the object in view
was--leaving out of account your own appetites which, as every one
knows, are just those of a hangman--to rid the Caribbean of buccaneers.
Now, I've taken the most effective way of accomplishing that object. The
knowledge that I've entered the King's service should in itself go far
towards disbanding the fleet of which I was until lately the admiral.”
“I see!” sneered the Deputy-Governor malevolently. “And if it does not?”
“It will be time enough then to consider what else is to be done.”
Lord Julian forestalled a fresh outburst on the part of Bishop.
“It is possible,” he said, “that my Lord Sunderland will be satisfied,
provided that the solution is such as you promise.”
It was a courteous, conciliatory speech. Urged by friendliness towards
Blood and understanding of the difficult position in which the buccaneer
found himself, his lordship was disposed to take his stand upon the
letter of his instructions. Therefore he now held out a friendly hand to
help him over the latest and most difficult obstacle which Blood himself
had enabled Bishop to place in the way of his redemption. Unfortunately
the last person from whom Peter Blood desired assistance at that moment
was this young nobleman, whom he regarded with the jaundiced eyes of
jealousy.
“Anyway,” he answered, with a suggestion of defiance and more than a
suggestion of a sneer, “it's the most ye should expect from me, and
certainly it's the most ye'll get.”
His lordship frowned, and dabbed his lips with a handkerchief.
“I don't think that I quite like the way you put it. Indeed, upon
reflection, Captain Blood, I am sure that I do not.”
“I am sorry for that, so I am,” said Blood impudently. “But there it is.
I'm not on that account concerned to modify it.”
His lordship's pale eyes opened a little wider. Languidly he raised his
eyebrows.
“Ah!” he said. “You're a prodigiously uncivil fellow. You disappoint me,
sir. I had formed the notion that you might be a gentleman.”
“And that's not your lordship's only mistake,” Bishop cut in. “You made
a worse when you gave him the King's commission, and so sheltered the
rascal from the gallows I had prepared for him in Port Royal.”
“Aye--but the worst mistake of all in this matter of commissions,”
said Blood to his lordship, “was the one that trade this greasy slaver
Deputy-Governor of Jamaica instead of its hangman, which is the office
for which he's by nature fitted.”
“Captain Blood!” said his lordship sharply in reproof. “Upon my soul and
honour, sir, you go much too far. You are....”
But here Bishop interrupted him. He had heaved himself to his feet, at
last, and was venting his fury in unprintable abuse. Captain Blood,
who had also risen, stood apparently impassive, for the storm to spend
itself. When at last this happened, he addressed himself quietly to Lord
Julian, as if Colonel Bishop had not spoken.
“Your lordship was about to say?” he asked, with challenging smoothness.
But his lordship had by now recovered his habitual composure, and was
again disposed to be conciliatory. He laughed and shrugged.
“Faith! here's a deal of unnecessary heat,” said he. “And God knows this
plaguey climate provides enough of that. Perhaps, Colonel Bishop, you
are a little uncompromising; and you, sir, are certainly a deal too
peppery. I have said, speaking on behalf of my Lord Sunderland, that I
am content to await the result of your experiment.”
But Bishop's fury had by now reached a stage in which it was not to be
restrained.
“Are you, indeed?” he roared. “Well, then, I am not. This is a matter in
which your lordship must allow me to be the better judge. And, anyhow,
I'll take the risk of acting on my own responsibility.”
Lord Julian abandoned the struggle. He smiled wearily, shrugged, and
waved a hand in implied resignation. The Deputy-Governor stormed on.
“Since my lord here has given you a commission, I can't regularly deal
with you out of hand for piracy as you deserve. But you shall answer
before a court-martial for your action in the matter of Wolverstone, and
take the consequences.”
“I see,” said Blood. “Now we come to it. And it's yourself as
Deputy-Governor will preside over that same court-martial. So that ye
can wipe off old scores by hanging me, it's little ye care how ye do
it!” He laughed, and added: “Praemonitus, praemunitus.”
“What shall that mean?” quoth Lord Julian sharply.
“I had imagined that your lordship would have had some education.”
He was at pains, you see, to be provocative.
“It's not the literal meaning I am asking, sir,” said Lord Julian, with
frosty dignity. “I want to know what you desire me to understand?”
“I'll leave your lordship guessing,” said Blood. “And I'll be wishing ye
both a very good day.” He swept off his feathered hat, and made them a
leg very elegantly.
“Before you go,” said Bishop, “and to save you from any idle rashness,
I'll tell you that the Harbour-Master and the Commandant have their
orders. You don't leave Port Royal, my fine gallows bird. Damme, I mean
to provide you with permanent moorings here, in Execution Dock.”
Peter Blood stiffened, and his vivid blue eyes stabbed the bloated face
of his enemy. He passed his long cane into his left hand, and with his
right thrust negligently into the breast of his doublet, he swung to
Lord Julian, who was thoughtfully frowning.
“Your lordship, I think, promised me immunity from this.”
“What I may have promised,” said his lordship, “your own conduct makes
it difficult to perform.” He rose. “You did me a service, Captain Blood,
and I had hoped that we might be friends. But since you prefer to
have it otherwise....” He shrugged, and waved a hand towards the
Deputy-Governor.
Blood completed the sentence in his own way:
“Ye mean that ye haven't the strength of character to resist the urgings
of a bully.” He was apparently at his ease, and actually smiling. “Well,
well--as I said before--praemonitus, praemunitus. I'm afraid that ye're
no scholar, Bishop, or ye'd know that I means forewarned, forearmed.”
“Forewarned? Ha!” Bishop almost snarled. “The warning comes a little
late. You do not leave this house.” He took a step in the direction of
the doorway, and raised his voice. “Ho there...” he was beginning to
call.
Then with a sudden audible catch in his breath, he stopped short.
Captain Blood's right hand had reemerged from the breast of his doublet,
bringing with it a long pistol with silver mountings richly chased,
which he levelled within a foot of the Deputy-Governor's head.
“And forearmed,” said he. “Don't stir from where you are, my lord, or
there may be an accident.”
And my lord, who had been moving to Bishop's assistance, stood instantly
arrested. Chap-fallen, with much of his high colour suddenly departed,
the Deputy-Governor was swaying on unsteady legs. Peter Blood considered
him with a grimness that increased his panic.
“I marvel that I don't pistol you without more ado, ye fat blackguard.
If I don't, it's for the same reason that once before I gave ye your
life when it was forfeit. Ye're not aware of the reason, to be sure; but
it may comfort ye to know that it exists. At the same time I'll warn
ye not to put too heavy a strain on my generosity, which resides at the
moment in my trigger-finger. Ye mean to hang me, and since that's the
worst that can happen to me anyway, you'll realize that I'll not boggle
at increasing the account by spilling your nasty blood.” He cast his
cane from him, thus disengaging his left hand. “Be good enough to give
me your arm, Colonel Bishop. Come, come, man, your arm.”
Under the compulsion of that sharp tone, those resolute eyes, and that
gleaming pistol, Bishop obeyed without demur. His recent foul volubility
was stemmed. He could not trust himself to speak. Captain Blood tucked
his left arm through the Deputy-Governor's proffered right. Then he
thrust his own right hand with its pistol back into the breast of his
doublet.
“Though invisible, it's aiming at ye none the less, and I give you my
word of honour that I'll shoot ye dead upon the very least provocation,
whether that provocation is yours or another's. Ye'll bear that in mind,
Lord Julian. And now, ye greasy hangman, step out as brisk and lively as
ye can, and behave as naturally as ye may, or it's the black stream
of Cocytus ye'll be contemplating.” Arm in arm they passed through the
house, and down the garden, where Arabella lingered, awaiting Peter
Blood's return.
Consideration of his parting words had brought her first turmoil of
mind, then a clear perception of what might be indeed the truth of the
death of Levasseur. She perceived that the particular inference drawn
from it might similarly have been drawn from Blood's deliverance of Mary
Traill. When a man so risks his life for a woman, the rest is easily
assumed. For the men who will take such risks without hope of personal
gain are few. Blood was of those few, as he had proved in the case of
Mary Traill.
It needed no further assurances of his to convince her that she had
done him a monstrous injustice. She remembered words he had used--words
overheard aboard his ship (which he had named the Arabella) on the night
of her deliverance from the Spanish admiral; words he had uttered when
she had approved his acceptance of the King's commission; the words he
had spoken to her that very morning, which had but served to move her
indignation. All these assumed a fresh meaning in her mind, delivered
now from its unwarranted preconceptions.
Therefore she lingered there in the garden, awaiting his return that she
might make amends; that she might set a term to all misunderstanding.
In impatience she awaited him. Yet her patience, it seemed, was to be
tested further. For when at last he came, it was in company--unusually
close and intimate company--with her uncle. In vexation she realized
that explanations must be postponed. Could she have guessed the extent
of that postponement, vexation would have been changed into despair.
He passed, with his companion, from that fragrant garden into the
courtyard of the fort. Here the Commandant, who had been instructed to
hold himself in readiness with the necessary men against the need to
effect the arrest of Captain Blood, was amazed by the curious spectacle
of the Deputy-Governor of Jamaica strolling forth arm in arm and
apparently on the friendliest terms with the intended prisoner. For as
they went, Blood was chatting and laughing briskly.
They passed out of the gates unchallenged, and so came to the mole where
the cock-boat from the Arabella was waiting. They took their places side
by side in the stern sheets, and were pulled away together, always very
close and friendly, to the great red ship where Jeremy Pitt so anxiously
awaited news.
You conceive the master's amazement to see the Deputy-Governor come
toiling up the entrance ladder, with Blood following very close behind
him.
“Sure, I walked into a trap, as ye feared, Jeremy,” Blood hailed him.
“But I walked out again, and fetched the trapper with me. He loves his
life, does this fat rascal.”
Colonel Bishop stood in the waist, his great face blenched to the colour
of clay, his mouth loose, almost afraid to look at the sturdy ruffians
who lounged about the shot-rack on the main hatch.
Blood shouted an order to the bo'sun, who was leaning against the
forecastle bulkhead.
“Throw me a rope with a running noose over the yardarm there, against
the need of it. Now, don't be alarming yourself, Colonel, darling. It's
no more than a provision against your being unreasonable, which I am
sure ye'll not be. We'll talk the matter over whiles we are dining, for
I trust ye'll not refuse to honour my table by your company.”
He led away the will-less, cowed bully to the great cabin. Benjamin,
the negro steward, in white drawers and cotton shirt, made haste by his
command to serve dinner.
Colonel Bishop collapsed on the locker under the stern ports, and spoke
now for the first time.
“May I ask wha... what are your intentions?” he quavered.
“Why, nothing sinister, Colonel. Although ye deserve nothing less than
that same rope and yardarm, I assure you that it's to be employed only
as a last resource. Ye've said his lordship made a mistake when he
handed me the commission which the Secretary of State did me the honour
to design for me. I'm disposed to agree with you; so I'll take to the
sea again. Cras ingens iterabimus aequor. It's the fine Latin scholar
ye'll be when I've done with ye. I'll be getting back to Tortuga and my
buccaneers, who at least are honest, decent fellows. So I've fetched ye
aboard as a hostage.”
“My God!” groaned the Deputy-Governor. “Ye... ye never mean that ye'll
carry me to Tortuga!”
Blood laughed outright. “Oh, I'd never serve ye such a bad turn as that.
No, no. All I want is that ye ensure my safe departure from Port Royal.
And, if ye're reasonable, I'll not even trouble you to swim for it this
time. Ye've given certain orders to your Harbour-Master, and others to
the Commandant of your plaguey fort. Ye'll be so good as to send for
them both aboard here, and inform them in my presence that the Arabella
is leaving this afternoon on the King's service and is to pass out
unmolested. And so as to make quite sure of their obedience, they shall
go a little voyage with us, themselves. Here's what you require. Now
write--unless you prefer the yardarm.”
Colonel Bishop heaved himself up in a pet. “You constrain me with
violence...” he was beginning.
Blood smoothly interrupted him.
“Sure, now, I am not constraining you at all. I'm giving you a perfectly
free choice between the pen and the rope. It's a matter for yourself
entirely.”
Bishop glared at him; then shrugging heavily, he took up the pen and
sat down at the table. In an unsteady hand he wrote that summons to his
officers. Blood despatched it ashore; and then bade his unwilling guest
to table.
“I trust, Colonel, your appetite is as stout as usual.”
The wretched Bishop took the seat to which he was commanded. As for
eating, however, that was not easy to a man in his position; nor did
Blood press him. The Captain, himself, fell to with a good appetite.
But before he was midway through the meal came Hayton to inform him
that Lord Julian Wade had just come aboard, and was asking to see him
instantly.
“I was expecting him,” said Blood. “Fetch him in.”
Lord Julian came. He was very stern and dignified. His eyes took in the
situation at a glance, as Captain Blood rose to greet him.
“It's mighty friendly of you to have joined us, my lord.”
“Captain Blood,” said his lordship with asperity, “I find your humour a
little forced. I don't know what may be your intentions; but I wonder do
you realize the risks you are running.”
“And I wonder does your lordship realize the risk to yourself in
following us aboard as I had counted that you would.”
“What shall that mean, sir?”
Blood signalled to Benjamin, who was standing behind Bishop.
“Set a chair for his lordship. Hayton, send his lordship's boat ashore.
Tell them he'll not be returning yet awhile.”
“What's that?” cried his lordship. “Blister me! D'ye mean to detain me?
Are ye mad?”
“Better wait, Hayton, in case his lordship should turn violent,” said
Blood. “You, Benjamin, you heard the message. Deliver it.”
“Will you tell me what you intend, sir?” demanded his lordship,
quivering with anger.
“Just to make myself and my lads here safe from Colonel Bishop's
gallows. I've said that I trusted to your gallantry not to leave him in
the lurch, but to follow him hither, and there's a note from his hand
gone ashore to summon the Harbour-Master and the Commandant of the
fort. Once they are aboard, I shall have all the hostages I need for our
safety.”
“You scoundrel!” said his lordship through his teeth.
“Sure, now, that's entirely a matter of the point of view,” said Blood.
“Ordinarily it isn't the kind of name I could suffer any man to apply to
me. Still, considering that ye willingly did me a service once, and
that ye're likely unwillingly to do me another now, I'll overlook your
discourtesy, so I will.”
His lordship laughed. “You fool,” he said. “Do you dream that I came
aboard your pirate ship without taking my measures? I informed the
Commandant of exactly how you had compelled Colonel Bishop to accompany
you. Judge now whether he or the Harbour-Master will obey the summons,
or whether you will be allowed to depart as you imagine.”
Blood's face became grave. “I'm sorry for that,” said he.
I thought you would be, answered his lordship.
“Oh, but not on my own account. It's the Deputy-Governor there I'm sorry
for. D'ye know what Ye've done? Sure, now, ye've very likely hanged
him.”
“My God!” cried Bishop in a sudden increase of panic.
“If they so much as put a shot across my bows, up goes their
Deputy-Governor to the yardarm. Your only hope, Colonel, lies in the
fact that I shall send them word of that intention. And so that you may
mend as far as you can the harm you have done, it's yourself shall bear
them the message, my lord.”
“I'll see you damned before I do,” fumed his lordship.
“Why, that's unreasonable and unreasoning. But if ye insist, why,
another messenger will do as well, and another hostage aboard--as I had
originally intended--will make my hand the stronger.”
Lord Julian stared at him, realizing exactly what he had refused.
“You'll think better of it now that ye understand?” quoth Blood.
“Aye, in God's name, go, my lord,” spluttered Bishop, “and make yourself
obeyed. This damned pirate has me by the throat.”
His lordship surveyed him with an eye that was not by any means
admiring. “Why, if that is your wish...” he began. Then he shrugged, and
turned again to Blood.
“I suppose I can trust you that no harm will come to Colonel Bishop if
you are allowed to sail?”
“You have my word for it,” said Blood. “And also that I shall put him
safely ashore again without delay.”
Lord Julian bowed stiffly to the cowering Deputy-Governor. “You
understand, sir, that I do as you desire,” he said coldly.
“Aye, man, aye!” Bishop assented hastily.
“Very well.” Lord Julian bowed again and took his departure. Blood
escorted him to the entrance ladder at the foot of which still swung the
Arabella's own cock-boat.
“It's good-bye, my lord,” said Blood. “And there's another thing.”
He proffered a parchment that he had drawn from his pocket. “It's the
commission. Bishop was right when he said it was a mistake.”
Lord Julian considered him, and considering him his expression softened.
“I am sorry,” he said sincerely.
“In other circumstances...” began Blood. “Oh, but there! Ye'll
understand. The boat's waiting.”
Yet with his foot on the first rung of the ladder, Lord Julian
hesitated.
“I still do not perceive--blister me if I do!--why you should not have
found some one else to carry your message to the Commandant, and kept me
aboard as an added hostage for his obedience to your wishes.”
Blood's vivid eyes looked into the other's that were clear and honest,
and he smiled, a little wistfully. A moment he seemed to hesitate. Then
he explained himself quite fully.
“Why shouldn't I tell you? It's the same reason that's been urging me
to pick a quarrel with you so that I might have the satisfaction of
slipping a couple of feet of steel into your vitals. When I accepted
your commission, I was moved to think it might redeem me in the eyes of
Miss Bishop--for whose sake, as you may have guessed, I took it. But
I have discovered that such a thing is beyond accomplishment. I should
have known it for a sick man's dream. I have discovered also that if
she's choosing you, as I believe she is, she's choosing wisely between
us, and that's why I'll not have your life risked by keeping you aboard
whilst the message goes by another who might bungle it. And now perhaps
ye'll understand.”
Lord Julian stared at him bewildered. His long, aristocratic face was
very pale.
“My God!” he said. “And you tell me this?”
“I tell you because... Oh, plague on it!--so that ye may tell her;
so that she may be made to realize that there's something of the
unfortunate gentleman left under the thief and pirate she accounts me,
and that her own good is my supreme desire. Knowing that, she may...
faith, she may remember me more kindly--if it's only in her prayers.
That's all, my lord.”
Lord Julian continued to look at the buccaneer in silence. In silence,
at last, he held out his hand; and in silence Blood took it.
“I wonder whether you are right,” said his lordship, “and whether you
are not the better man.”
“Where she is concerned see that you make sure that I am right. Good-bye
to you.”
Lord Julian wrung his hand in silence, went down the ladder, and was
pulled ashore. From the distance he waved to Blood, who stood leaning on
the bulwarks watching the receding cock-boat.
The Arabella sailed within the hour, moving lazily before a sluggish
breeze. The fort remained silent and there was no movement from the
fleet to hinder her departure. Lord Julian had carried the message
effectively, and had added to it his own personal commands.