When the cost of that victory came to be counted, it was found that of
three hundred and twenty buccaneers who had left Cartagena with Captain
Blood, a bare hundred remained sound and whole. The Elizabeth had
suffered so seriously that it was doubtful if she could ever again be
rendered seaworthy, and Hagthorpe, who had so gallantly commanded her
in that last action, was dead. Against this, on the other side of the
account, stood the facts that, with a far inferior force and by sheer
skill and desperate valour, Blood's buccaneers had saved Jamaica from
bombardment and pillage, and they had captured the fleet of M. de
Rivarol, and seized for the benefit of King William the splendid
treasure which she carried.
It was not until the evening of the following day that van der Kuylen's
truant fleet of nine ships came to anchor in the harbour of Port Royal,
and its officers, Dutch and English, were made acquainted with their
Admiral's true opinion of their worth.
Six ships of that fleet were instantly refitted for sea. There were
other West Indian settlements demanding the visit of inspection of the
new Governor-General, and Lord Willoughby was in haste to sail for the
Antilles.
“And meanwhile,” he complained to his Admiral, “I am detained here by
the absence of this fool of a Deputy-Governor.”
“So?” said van der Kuylen. “But vhy should dad dedain you?”
“That I may break the dog as he deserves, and appoint his successor
in some man gifted with a sense of where his duty lies, and with the
ability to perform it.”
“Aha! But id is not necessary you remain for dat. And he vill require no
insdrucshons, dis one. He vill know how to make Port Royal safe, bedder
nor you or me.”
“You mean Blood?”
“Of gourse. Could any man be bedder? You haf seen vhad he can do.”
“You think so, too, eh? Egad! I had thought of it; and, rip me, why not?
He's a better man than Morgan, and Morgan was made Governor.”
Blood was sent for. He came, spruce and debonair once more, having
exploited the resources of Port Royal so to render himself. He was a
trifle dazzled by the honour proposed to him, when Lord Willoughby made
it known. It was so far beyond anything that he had dreamed, and he was
assailed by doubts of his capacity to undertake so onerous a charge.
“Damme!” snapped Willoughby, “Should I offer it unless I were satisfied
of your capacity? If that's your only objection....”
“It is not, my lord. I had counted upon going home, so I had. I am
hungry for the green lanes of England.” He sighed. “There will be
apple-blossoms in the orchards of Somerset.”
“Apple-blossoms!” His lordship's voice shot up like a rocket, and
cracked on the word. “What the devil...? Apple-blossoms!” He looked at
van der Kuylen.
The Admiral raised his brows and pursed his heavy lips. His eyes
twinkled humourously in his great face.
“So!” he said. “Fery boedical!”
My lord wheeled fiercely upon Captain Blood. “You've a past score to
wipe out, my man!” he admonished him. “You've done something towards it,
I confess; and you've shown your quality in doing it. That's why I offer
you the governorship of Jamaica in His Majesty's name--because I account
you the fittest man for the office that I have seen.”
Blood bowed low. “Your lordship is very good. But....”
“Tchah! There's no 'but' to it. If you want your past forgotten, and
your future assured, this is your chance. And you are not to treat it
lightly on account of apple-blossoms or any other damned sentimental
nonsense. Your duty lies here, at least for as long as the war lasts.
When the war's over, you may get back to Somerset and cider or your
native Ireland and its potheen; but until then you'll make the best of
Jamaica and rum.”
Van der Kuylen exploded into laughter. But from Blood the pleasantry
elicited no smile. He remained solemn to the point of glumness. His
thoughts were on Miss Bishop, who was somewhere here in this very house
in which they stood, but whom he had not seen since his arrival. Had she
but shown him some compassion....
And then the rasping voice of Willoughby cut in again, upbraiding him
for his hesitation, pointing out to him his incredible stupidity in
trifling with such a golden opportunity as this. He stiffened and bowed.
“My lord, you are in the right. I am a fool. But don't be accounting
me an ingrate as well. If I have hesitated, it is because there are
considerations with which I will not trouble your lordship.”
“Apple-blossoms, I suppose?” sniffed his lordship.
This time Blood laughed, but there was still a lingering wistfulness in
his eyes.
“It shall be as you wish--and very gratefully, let me assure your
lordship. I shall know how to earn His Majesty's approbation. You may
depend upon my loyal service.
“If I didn't, I shouldn't offer you this governorship.”
Thus it was settled. Blood's commission was made out and sealed in
the presence of Mallard, the Commandant, and the other officers of
the garrison, who looked on in round-eyed astonishment, but kept their
thoughts to themselves.
“Now ve can aboud our business go,” said van der Kuylen.
“We sail to-morrow morning,” his lordship announced.
Blood was startled.
“And Colonel Bishop?” he asked.
“He becomes your affair. You are now the Governor. You will deal with
him as you think proper on his return. Hang him from his own yardarm. He
deserves it.”
“Isn't the task a trifle invidious?” wondered Blood.
“Very well. I'll leave a letter for him. I hope he'll like it.”
Captain Blood took up his duties at once. There was much to be done to
place Port Royal in a proper state of defence, after what had happened
there. He made an inspection of the ruined fort, and issued instructions
for the work upon it, which was to be started immediately. Next he
ordered the careening of the three French vessels that they might
be rendered seaworthy once more. Finally, with the sanction of Lord
Willoughby, he marshalled his buccaneers and surrendered to them one
fifth of the captured treasure, leaving it to their choice thereafter
either to depart or to enrol themselves in the service of King William.
A score of them elected to remain, and amongst these were Jeremy Pitt,
Ogle, and Dyke, whose outlawry, like Blood's, had come to an end with
the downfall of King James. They were--saving old Wolverstone, who
had been left behind at Cartagena--the only survivors of that band of
rebels-convict who had left Barbados over three years ago in the Cinco
Llagas.
On the following morning, whilst van der Kuylen's fleet was making
finally ready for sea, Blood sat in the spacious whitewashed room that
was the Governor's office, when Major Mallard brought him word that
Bishop's homing squadron was in sight.
“That is very well,” said Blood. “I am glad he comes before Lord
Willoughby's departure. The orders, Major, are that you place him under
arrest the moment he steps ashore. Then bring him here to me. A moment.”
He wrote a hurried note. “That to Lord Willoughby aboard Admiral van der
Kuylen's flagship.”
Major Mallard saluted and departed. Peter Blood sat back in his chair
and stared at the ceiling, frowning. Time moved on. Came a tap at the
door, and an elderly negro slave presented himself. Would his excellency
receive Miss Bishop?
His excellency changed colour. He sat quite still, staring at the negro
a moment, conscious that his pulses were drumming in a manner wholly
unusual to them. Then quietly he assented.
He rose when she entered, and if he was not as pale as she was, it was
because his tan dissembled it. For a moment there was silence between
them, as they stood looking each at the other. Then she moved forward,
and began at last to speak, haltingly, in an unsteady voice, amazing in
one usually so calm and deliberate.
“I... I... Major Mallard has just told me....”
“Major Mallard exceeded his duty,” said Blood, and because of the effort
he made to steady his voice it sounded harsh and unduly loud.
He saw her start, and stop, and instantly made amends. “You alarm
yourself without reason, Miss Bishop. Whatever may lie between me and
your uncle, you may be sure that I shall not follow the example he has
set me. I shall not abuse my position to prosecute a private vengeance.
On the contrary, I shall abuse it to protect him. Lord Willoughby's
recommendation to me is that I shall treat him without mercy. My own
intention is to send him back to his plantation in Barbados.”
She came slowly forward now. “I... I am glad that you will do that.
Glad, above all, for your own sake.” She held out her hand to him.
He considered it critically. Then he bowed over it. “I'll not presume to
take it in the hand of a thief and a pirate,” said he bitterly.
“You are no longer that,” she said, and strove to smile.
“Yet I owe no thanks to you that I am not,” he answered. “I think
there's no more to be said, unless it be to add the assurance that Lord
Julian Wade has also nothing to apprehend from me. That, no doubt, will
be the assurance that your peace of mind requires?”
“For your own sake--yes. But for your own sake only. I would not have
you do anything mean or dishonouring.”
“Thief and pirate though I be?”
She clenched her hand, and made a little gesture of despair and
impatience.
“Will you never forgive me those words?”
“I'm finding it a trifle hard, I confess. But what does it matter, when
all is said?”
Her clear hazel eyes considered him a moment wistfully. Then she put out
her hand again.
“I am going, Captain Blood. Since you are so generous to my uncle,
I shall be returning to Barbados with him. We are not like to meet
again--ever. Is it impossible that we should part friends? Once I
wronged you, I know. And I have said that I am sorry. Won't you... won't
you say 'good-bye'?”
He seemed to rouse himself, to shake off a mantle of deliberate
harshness. He took the hand she proffered. Retaining it, he spoke, his
eyes sombrely, wistfully considering her.
“You are returning to Barbados?” he said slowly. “Will Lord Julian be
going with you?”
“Why do you ask me that?” she confronted him quite fearlessly.
“Sure, now, didn't he give you my message, or did he bungle it?”
“No. He didn't bungle it. He gave it me in your own words. It touched me
very deeply. It made me see clearly my error and my injustice. I owe
it to you that I should say this by way of amend. I judged too harshly
where it was a presumption to judge at all.”
He was still holding her hand. “And Lord Julian, then?” he asked, his
eyes watching her, bright as sapphires in that copper-coloured face.
“Lord Julian will no doubt be going home to England. There is nothing
more for him to do out here.”
“But didn't he ask you to go with him?”
“He did. I forgive you the impertinence.”
A wild hope leapt to life within him.
“And you? Glory be, ye'll not be telling me ye refused to become my
lady, when....”
“Oh! You are insufferable!” She tore her hand free and backed away from
him. “I should not have come. Good-bye!” She was speeding to the door.
He sprang after her, and caught her. Her face flamed, and her eyes
stabbed him like daggers. “These are pirate's ways, I think! Release
me!”
“Arabella!” he cried on a note of pleading. “Are ye meaning it? Must I
release ye? Must I let ye go and never set eyes on ye again? Or will ye
stay and make this exile endurable until we can go home together? Och,
ye're crying now! What have I said to make ye cry, my dear?”
“I... I thought you'd never say it,” she mocked him through her tears.
“Well, now, ye see there was Lord Julian, a fine figure of a....”
“There was never, never anybody but you, Peter.”
They had, of course, a deal to say thereafter, so much, indeed, that
they sat down to say it, whilst time sped on, and Governor Blood forgot
the duties of his office. He had reached home at last. His odyssey was
ended.
And meanwhile Colonel Bishop's fleet had come to anchor, and the Colonel
had landed on the mole, a disgruntled man to be disgruntled further yet.
He was accompanied ashore by Lord Julian Wade.
A corporal's guard was drawn up to receive him, and in advance of
this stood Major Mallard and two others who were unknown to the
Deputy-Governor: one slight and elegant, the other big and brawny.
Major Mallard advanced. “Colonel Bishop, I have orders to arrest you.
Your sword, sir!”
“By order of the Governor of Jamaica,” said the elegant little man
behind Major Mallard. Bishop swung to him.
“The Governor? Ye're mad!” He looked from one to the other. “I am the
Governor.”
“You were,” said the little man dryly. “But we've changed that in your
absence. You're broke for abandoning your post without due cause, and
thereby imperiling the settlement over which you had charge. It's a
serious matter, Colonel Bishop, as you may find. Considering that you
held your office from the Government of King James, it is even possible
that a charge of treason might lie against you. It rests with your
successor entirely whether ye're hanged or not.”
Bishop rapped out an oath, and then, shaken by a sudden fear: “Who the
devil may you be?” he asked.
“I am Lord Willoughby, Governor General of His Majesty's colonies in the
West Indies. You were informed, I think, of my coming.”
The remains of Bishop's anger fell from him like a cloak. He broke into
a sweat of fear. Behind him Lord Julian looked on, his handsome face
suddenly white and drawn.
“But, my lord...” began the Colonel.
“Sir, I am not concerned to hear your reasons,” his lordship interrupted
him harshly. “I am on the point of sailing and I have not the time. The
Governor will hear you, and no doubt deal justly by you.” He waved to
Major Mallard, and Bishop, a crumpled, broken man, allowed himself to be
led away.
To Lord Julian, who went with him, since none deterred him, Bishop
expressed himself when presently he had sufficiently recovered.
“This is one more item to the account of that scoundrel Blood,” he
said, through his teeth. “My God, what a reckoning there will be when we
meet!”
Major Mallard turned away his face that he might conceal his smile, and
without further words led him a prisoner to the Governor's house, the
house that so long had been Colonel Bishop's own residence. He was left
to wait under guard in the hall, whilst Major Mallard went ahead to
announce him.
Miss Bishop was still with Peter Blood when Major Mallard entered. His
announcement startled them back to realities.
“You will be merciful with him. You will spare him all you can for my
sake, Peter,” she pleaded.
“To be sure I will,” said Blood. “But I'm afraid the circumstances
won't.”
She effaced herself, escaping into the garden, and Major Mallard fetched
the Colonel.
“His excellency the Governor will see you now,” said he, and threw wide
the door.
Colonel Bishop staggered in, and stood waiting.
At the table sat a man of whom nothing was visible but the top of a
carefully curled black head. Then this head was raised, and a pair of
blue eyes solemnly regarded the prisoner. Colonel Bishop made a noise
in his throat, and, paralyzed by amazement, stared into the face of his
excellency the Deputy-Governor of Jamaica, which was the face of the man
he had been hunting in Tortuga to his present undoing.
The situation was best expressed to Lord Willoughby by van der Kuylen as
the pair stepped aboard the Admiral's flagship.
“Id is fery boedigal!” he said, his blue eyes twinkling. “Cabdain Blood
is fond of boedry--you remember de abble-blossoms. So? Ha, ha!”