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[Illustration: Cover of The Corsair King]
The Corsair King
(A KALOZ KIRALY)
by Maurus Jokai
Author of "Black Diamonds," "Manasseh," "The Baron's Sons," "Pretty
Michal," etc.
Translated by
Mary J. Safford
[Illustration]
Boston
L. C. Page & Company
mdcccci
Copyright, 1901, by
L. C. Page & Company (Inc.)
_All rights reserved_
The Heintzemann Press Boston
WORKS OF
MAURUS JOKAI
MANASSEH
THE BARON'S SONS
PRETTY MICHAL
THE CORSAIR KING
MIDST THE WILD CARPATHIANS
L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
200 SUMMER STREET, BOSTON, MASS.
Contents
CHAPTER PAGE
I. CHOOSING A KING 11
II. IN HISPANIOLA 50
III. REVENGE 149
IV. RETRIBUTION 187
The CORSAIR KING
Chapter I
Choosing a King
The storm had spent itself, the sea was calm again, and on its smooth
surface tossed empty casks and shattered masts,--the monuments of
shipwrecked vessels. The stormy petrels had vanished with the tempest,
and the flying fish were now making their clumsy leaps from wave to
wave,--a sign of fair weather. A brigantine which had outlived the gale
was moving slowly over the almost unrippled surface of the water; all
hands were engaged in repairing the damage occasioned by the storm;
temporary masts were rigged, sails trimmed, the crew worked fairly
hanging in the air; for the ship had heeled far over,--a proof that her
ballast had shifted during the tempest.
With the exception of the blows of the carpenter's hammer, and the
creaking of the pumps, nothing was heard save the voice of the captain,
who stood leaning against the mainmast trying to ascertain on a chart
the place to which he had been driven by the storm. The movements of the
needle were scrutinized more and more carefully, while from time to
time, the voice of an officer taking soundings, echoed on the air. At
last the captain's finger stopped on a group of islands and he said
quietly: "We are off the Ladrones." At the same moment a sailor on the
mast-head shouted: "Land!" Without the slightest change of expression,
the captain repeated: "The Ladrones."
Then, folding the chart, he took out a small silver whistle and, blowing
a signal, ordered the mate to summon the crew to investigate the
occurrences of the preceding night.
The Isles of Thieves were but a few miles distant, they had no cannon,
their sails were tattered, yet the captain spoke as calmly in passing
sentence upon his men as though he were sitting in the utmost security
upon a jury bench.
"By whose directions were the sick thrown overboard?" he asked, turning
his stern face toward the crew.
"The doctor ordered it," replied an old seaman.
"You, Scudamore?" inquired the captain, wheeling round to look a tall
thin man in the face.
The latter's countenance was one of those which, at the first glance,
appear smooth and gentle, whose features when smiling are even
captivating, until some expression of mockery or greed of vengeance
suddenly transforms the winning glance into an image of horror.
"You gave the order yourself, Captain Rolls," replied the surgeon, with
a smiling face, and in a tone of marked gentleness, as if the subject
under discussion were some very noble deed, which he declined to
acknowledge merely from exaggerated modesty. "When the ship sprung a
leak, you commanded that all the superfluous ballast should be thrown
overboard. The men first cast out the heavy ballast; then you ordered
them to add whatever else could be spared. Then the cannon went, though
it was a great pity, for we stand in need of them, especially when off
the Ladrones, but even this did not lighten the ship sufficiently. You
again issued orders that everything superfluous must be cast into the
sea. There was nothing left which could be dispensed with except the
bars of silver and the sick. The crew began to discuss which should be
thrown overboard. I answered: 'We shall not be asked for the _men_ when
we reach London, but we shall be for the silver;' and, by my advice, the
silver was saved and the ship weathered the storm."
"Dr. Scudamore," said the captain, with cool deliberation, "for this
inhuman deed you will be cashiered, kept in irons until we reach London,
and there delivered up to justice."
"Sail in sight!" shouted the man at the helm, and several of the crew
whispered in terror; "Pirates!"
Scudamore fixed his green-gray eyes on the captain and, smiling
contemptuously, said in tones which had suddenly grown hoarse.
"I think it might be advisable to defer my punishment a few hours; you
or some one else might need my services during the interval."
"That is no affair of yours," returned the captain. "To die without a
doctor or to be thrown into the sea by his orders is much the same
thing."
"Ha! ha! ha! You see, it might have been better for you in the end, had
you relieved the ship of the sick in the first place, instead of
throwing your guns overboard. But that's _your_ affair."
Captain Rolls silently nodded to the men to take the doctor below. Then
he gave orders that the bars of silver should be concealed in the hold,
and that every man should go to his post to be prepared for any attack.
He himself, taking his weapons, went to his usual station and, without
changing the vessel's course in the least, ordered all sail to be set.
Meanwhile the pirate craft was dashing toward the brigantine. The black
flag was already visible, and a cannon ball, whistling close by the
brigantine's rigging, was the first message from the sea-robber.
Captain Rolls had no cannon with which to answer. The silence was
interpreted by the pirates as fear, and one of their number shouted in a
tone of thunder through his speaking trumpet:
"Ship ahoy! A word with the captain."
Instantly a battle-flag fluttered from every mast-head on the
brigantine.
A terrible uproar arose on the pirate ship; a tall man, with a gray
vest, girdled by a scarlet sash, appeared on deck, issuing orders in
loud, hoarse tones, upon which half the sails were furled, and with a
swift turn the light craft came round before the wind close by the
brigantine, without firing a shot, evidently considering her a sure
prey, which must be spared from harm.
On the pirate's prow was carved a strange human figure, the symbol of
the ship's name, The Sea Devil, and, which, the pirates humorously
asserted, was the living image of their Captain Davis, whose face had
been so disfigured by the bursting of a shell that it resembled a
death's head.
The pirates dashed with Satanic recklessness toward the brigantine,
whose defenders still awaited them in motionless silence. But just at
the moment the grappling irons were thrown, Rolls made a sign, and the
thunder of the report of the sailors' arms followed; when the smoke
dispersed, the two vessels were already fast locked together, the fire
had killed several of the pirates; the others, pushing their comrades'
bodies aside, were trying to climb to the brigantine's deck. In an
instant the two crews were fighting man to man with sabres and knives.
One furiously attacked, the other coolly defended; neither feared wounds
or weapons.
The sailors fought bravely. Captain Rolls remained in his place, with
his eyes fixed on the pirate leader, who had already fired at him three
times without making his foe even turn his head.
"I'll see whether you are the devil or I!" Davis at last shouted
savagely. "Follow me, you scoundrels," and seizing his sabre between his
teeth, while swinging a huge hammer above his head with his right hand,
he sprang on the deck of the brigantine, felling two of her crew at the
same instant. The pirates, with deafening yells, rushed into the breach
thus made, and the terrified sailors began to yield, more alarmed by the
hideous face of the pirate leader than by the weight of his blows.
Rolls quietly drew a pistol from his belt. "You won't hit me!" yelled
Davis, gnashing his teeth and trying to startle the captain by rolling
his eye-balls hideously. The latter fired, and whoever was looking at
Davis at the moment saw a bloody star on his forehead where the bullet
entered. The pirate suddenly grasped the handle of his hammer with both
hands and sank lifeless.
Bewildered by the loss of their leader, the corsairs were on the point
of yielding their vantage ground, when one of their number shouted
triumphantly: "Hurrah, Barthelemy!" and at that moment a fierce yell
arose from the center of the brigantine. While the fight had been raging
on one side, six pirates in a boat had rowed around her and crept
noiselessly to her deck, which they reached just as their captain fell.
These men, too, turned to fly, but one of their number, a young, slender
fellow, with a bronzed face, thick curling locks, and sparkling eyes,
sprang behind Rolls, and, pinioning his arms, wrested his pistol from
his hold and forced him to his knees.
"Let no one stir or you are all dead men!" shouted the young pirate in
bold, ringing tones, and the sailors, disheartened by the capture of
their commander, laid down their arms before the savage forms thronging
on deck.
The victory was Barthelemy's; and his comrades' first act was to lift
him on their shoulders, declare him their captain and, with terrible
oaths, swear eternal fealty by death, hell, and the devil.
A Herculean fellow raised him aloft like a child, and, pointing to the
figures lying weltering in their blood, shouted in a voice of thunder:
"Who deserves to be your leader better than Robert Barthelemy?"
"No one! No one!" was the unanimous answer.
"Will you have him for your leader, captain, king?"
"Hurrah!" responded the crew.
"Stop!" cried Barthelemy from the Hercules' shoulder. "I heard some one
shout 'No.'"
"Who was it?" roared the athlete; "does any one want to jest with
death?"
"Don't rage, Skyrme, don't rage, my brave giant. Speech is free. Come
forward, Lord Simpson, you oppose my election. Step forward, my valiant
nobleman, and tell us your objection to me!"
The pirates, amid rude laughter, pushed before Barthelemy a tall, fair
man, who, with his hands thrust into his pockets, eyed the new captain
scornfully from head to foot.
"Speak fair, noble lord!" said Skyrme, raising his sinewy hand,
threateningly above Simpson's head, "or you'll bite your own tongue."
"I should do that without your telling me," replied Simpson,
nonchalantly, glancing at his comrades. "You know that my father was
Lord Simpson?"
"Of course we do!" shouted the others.
"My father was the sworn foe of Jeffreys, who, after Monmouth's fall,
brought the brave English Protestant nobles to the scaffold. My father
suffered with them. Since that time I have hated the Papists, and do not
want one even for a pirate chief. Not even you, Barthelemy, for you are
a Papist."
Instead of breaking the speaker's head, Skyrme raised him on his arm
and, amid the loud laughter of the pirates, drew him toward Barthelemy,
with whom he drained the cup of friendship, after Barthelemy had assured
him, on his honor as a pirate, that he had not entered a church since
his christening, and had never been in a priest's presence during his
entire life. The new captain was then formally given the leader's cap
with its scarlet plume, and the whole band then proceeded to the work of
distributing the booty.
Barthelemy sat on a cask turned upside down, holding on his knees a
black book in which were written in red letters the names of the
pirates, and read them one by one in a loud tone. Often nobody answered
and, at the end of a long pause, some one growled: "Dead," and the name
was instantly erased from the list.
Just then a pirate brought Captain Rolls, who had been bound hand and
foot, to the mainmast, where he laid him flat on the deck. Barthelemy
raised his hat with the utmost courtesy.
"Pardon me, captain, that my men have placed you in so uncomfortable a
position. You are a brave soldier and fought well. Unbind this worthy
man."
"His hands too?" asked a pirate, casting a doubtful glance at his leader
from under his shaggy brows.
"Yes, Asphlant, especially if the captain will promise to do nothing
against us."
"I'll promise nothing," replied Rolls.
"Well, no matter; I told you to unbind his hands at any rate, it will be
our business to see that he doesn't break anybody's head. And now,
captain, be kind enough to declare the contents of your vessel, which
you have so bravely defended. No doubt you have a valuable cargo."
"You have captured the ship, and can search every corner of her, I shall
guide you nowhere."
"Right again. Men, go below."
The pirates instantly leaped down the hatchways and, after spending an
hour in rummaging through every part of the ship, they returned to
Barthelemy with the sorrowful tidings that there was nothing in the
whole vessel except a cask of biscuit and one of water.
Rolls could not help smiling at the fury of the disappointed men.
"You could see that I had no guns, and therefore might have inferred
that, if I had been in such straits that I was forced to throw them
overboard, there would be no other ballast in the ship."
"Devil take it!" roared Asphlant, throwing his cap on the deck, "have so
many brave fellows eaten lead and drunk salt water for the sake of an
empty box, full of rats? you are a cheat, captain. What had you to
defend in this ship?"
"My honor," replied Rolls proudly.
"Which, when we have taken it from you, will be of no use to us," said
the giant Skyrme, laughing. "What do you say to that, Moody?"
The man addressed was a sullen, taciturn fellow, who was sitting on the
bulwark, holding a short pipe between his teeth. The silver whistle
hanging from his button-hole indicated that he was the pirate's
boatswain.
"What's the use of so much talk?" he rejoined. "Bore a hole in the
bottom of the ark and let the whole crew go under water with her."
"For heaven's sake, gentlemen!" shrieked a voice among the captured
sailors, and a man, with his hands tied behind his back, threw himself
at Barthelemy's feet and tried to kiss his boots, while his eyes rested
despairingly on the face of the pirate chief.
"For heaven's sake, you brave, valiant, worthy men! You heroes, you
demi-gods! By heaven, hell, and all that is sacred to you, I beseech you
not to murder me. Kill all my comrades, the scoundrels deserve it for
resisting you; but I have given you no offence, I never held a weapon in
my hand; I was imprisoned during the whole fight and have just been
brought out by these brave, excellent men."
Some of the pirates stared, others laughed.
"Gentleman, renowned heroes, worshipped sovereigns of our age, hear me,
I entreat you, by all you hold sacred. I am Dr. Scudamore, a persecuted
man; persecuted as you are; I have nothing to do with these people; I am
the mortal enemy of Captain Rolls. I implore you to distinguish between
me and these people, not to condemn me with them. Oh, I beg you to be
merciful and permit me, kissing the dust off your feet, to consider
myself the humblest of your servants."
Skyrme averted his face with an expression of loathing, while Moody
kicked at the writhing figure, whom every one was eyeing with the
deepest scorn.
"Captain Rolls," said Barthelemy, "it appears that you have condemned
this fellow?"
"Only accused, not condemned. The judgment lies with the English
courts."
"Oh, we won't go so far," said Skyrme with a look of amusement; "make
the charge; we'll represent the court of justice. Barthelemy will be
judge, we the sheriffs and constables. Bring forward the complaint, the
court is open."
Rolls coldly averted his eyes without answering a syllable.
Scudamore, who was scanning every face with the crafty glance of a man
who fears for his life, hastily interposed.
"You see, gentlemen, you see the contemptuous face with which he
receives your offer, you see how proudly, how scornfully he looks down
upon you, as if it would be a disgrace to him to recognize such worthy
men as judges. Oh, _I_ will submit to your sentence, I have no desire to
stand before wiser, more just or more distinguished judges. I will tell
with my own lips everything of which I am accused."
"I forbid you to do so!" cried Rolls vehemently.
"There, you see for yourselves, gentlemen. He wants to command here
still, here, where you are the rightful possessors. He will not even
permit me to repeat the charge against me! Very natural! He knows that
he, and not I, will be condemned. So listen, gentlemen, listen, for what
I have to tell is an important matter; my crime is that we were bringing
huge bars of silver--"
"Ho! ho! that begins well," shouted Asphlant, craning his neck to hear
better.
"On the way a storm rose, the ship sprung a leak, and the captain
ordered all useless ballast to be thrown overboard. There was nothing
left except the sick and the silver, and the question was which should
be cast into the sea?"
"Well, and you, as the doctor, of course kept the sick," said Skyrme.
"No indeed, I kept the silver, and now Captain Rolls wants to punish me
for it."
Barthelemy turned from the man in horror, while Rolls glared at him with
blazing eyes.
"Oho, captain," cried Asphlant, "so there is silver on your ship! Where
did you hide it, eh?"
"That I will not tell you."
"You won't? Oh, the thumb screw will find out. Here, ropes, ropes!"
"What do you mean?" cried Barthelemy, boldly surveying his companions.
"Are we members of the Inquisition, that we seek to learn truth by
torture? No, my friends; let no one have the right to say that the
pirates use the tools of the auto-da-fe! Should not we, who call
ourselves the heroes of the free sea, honor freedom? If Captain Rolls
will not reveal the hiding-place in his vessel we will take her into
port, pull every plank apart, and find the silver without committing a
deed which would dishonor us."
The pirates cheered their captain's speech, and began to fasten the
brigantine to their ship.
Scudamore, who had refrained from disclosing the hiding-place merely
that the pirates might wreak their vengeance on Captain Rolls, now,
perceiving that the latter had escaped, said:
"Don't trouble yourselves, gentlemen. Why should you drag this miserable
craft after you? Release me and promise to spare my life, and I'll take
you to the spot where the silver is hidden."
"Loose the doctor's hands from the irons," said Barthelemy signing to
his men. "I'll promise that we will not harm a hair of your head. Show
us the hiding-place."
Scudamore, finding his hands at liberty, tried to shake hands with each
one of the pirates in turn, but they angrily pushed him back.
"Hurry up!" cried Asphlant, dealing him a blow, while another pirate,
grasping him with both hands, dragged him along, Scudamore protesting
that he should feel under obligations to the whole company as long as he
lived.
The pirates soon returned, exultingly bearing the chests of silver on
their shoulders. Barthelemy ordered them to be placed on board their own
vessel, while Scudamore showed the utmost zeal in helping the men,
calling each, meanwhile, his dear, kind friend, a compliment which they
repaid with all sorts of abusive epithets and the command not to touch
their property.
The last to come on deck was Asphlant, who said with great satisfaction:
"We shall leave nothing here, captain! The ship is entirely empty. Shall
we bore a hole in her bottom? Or will it be better to hang these fellows
in a row on the mainyard, and let the vessel drift where she likes?"
The loud laughter of the pirates showed their cordial approval of this
proposal. The sailors gave no sign of emotion, while Scudamore tried to
lock arms with one after another of the pirates, constantly asserting
that he had nothing to do with the other party.
"Silence!" ordered Barthelemy sternly. "You will neither scuttle the
ship nor hang the crew. That might do for miserable Spanish privateers,
pitiful Tunisian cut-throats, but not for us, Englishmen and Frenchmen.
Are we to make ourselves ashamed of the name of pirate, admit that it
has nothing in common with the word honor? Were not the first
inhabitants of Rome also corsairs? Our mission is to place the name of
fillibuster in a new light. Captain Rolls, you and your whole ship's
company are free to go wherever you desire."
A fierce uproar arose among the robbers. Many approved the captain's
speech, some strove to oppose it.
Barthelemy stamped his foot violently. "Is there any one who desires to
contradict me?"
"Yes!" shrieked Moody, stepping in front of him and thrusting the pipe
he held between his teeth so close to the captain's face that it almost
touched his eyes. "I say you are a fool, captain. You are acting against
all the customs of pirates and, if you don't take back your order, I'll
scuttle the ship myself."
"Do you think so?" said Barthelemy. "Skyrme! Seize this fellow and bind
him to the mainmast."
The pirates shrank back, startled. Moody was the oldest of the band,
whom no captain had ever ventured to punish. Barthelemy again motioned
to Skyrme, and the latter, rushing upon the chief mate, bound him, in
spite of his struggles, to the mainmast, so that he clasped it with
both arms, his back turned to the crew; but, while pouring forth a
continuous torrent of oaths, he still kept his pipe in his mouth.
"Is there any one else who wishes to oppose me?" asked the young chief.
A suppressed murmur ran through the ranks of the pirates, but no one
raised his voice distinctly.
Barthelemy now turned to Captain Rolls and, taking from his pocket a
piece of paper and a pencil he said:
"Captain Rolls! I hope you will reach London with your ship in safety.
It is true that you will return her to her owners empty, but that is no
fault of yours, in proof of which I will give you the following
certificate for your justification at home.
We, free knights of fortune, bear witness in the
presence of all whom it concerns, that Rolls, captain
of the brigantine Neptune, was attacked by us on the
Pacific Ocean, and, having just lost his guns and part
of his rigging in a gale, defended himself against us
in the bravest manner for an hour and a half, and did
not yield until, after losing nine of our best men and
our captain, we completely overwhelmed him and thereby
alone obtained the silver entrusted to his care.
CAPTAIN ROBERT BARTHELEMY.
"Add," said Rolls, "that you succeeded in securing the silver only
through Scudamore's treachery."
"True," replied Barthelemy, adding the sentence.
"Gentlemen!" interposed Scudamore trembling, "what are you going to do
with me?"
"Nothing," said Barthelemy. "We promised that we would not harm a hair
of your head."
"Yes," returned the other mournfully, "but if you release the captain,
and me with him, what is to become of me?"
"I don't know," returned the corsair-chief, shrugging his shoulders.
Skyrme laughed aloud. "That's a splendid joke!"
"For heaven's sake! What shall I say to you?" stammered Scudamore,
throwing himself at Barthelemy's feet. "Oh, gentlemen, don't leave me in
this man's power, he will have no mercy on me. He is a horrible
villain."
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Skyrme. "Don't spoil this joke, captain. When you
set the commander of the brigantine free, let him take this fellow with
him; what a fine lot of talk there will be when they call him to account
at home for the service he has rendered us."
"Gentlemen! Brave men!" shrieked Scudamore clasping Barthelemy's knees.
"Surely you are only jesting with me. It amuses you to drive me to
desperation in this way, but you will not really ruin me. You cannot
forget that I have rendered you an important service, and shall perform
still more. I am a physician; you need one, take me with you. I will be
just such a man, such a devil as all the rest, I'll be no disgrace to
your band. You will never repent having made my acquaintance. I beseech,
I implore you to say a good word to the captain for me. Oh, you good,
brave man, you leader with the face of a hero, give me your hand, that I
may kiss it."
"Rise," said Barthelemy curtly. "We _do_ need a surgeon, I'll take you."
"What! a surgeon among us!" growled Moody, who was still bound to the
mast, "a surgeon who, whenever one of our band is wounded in the hand or
foot, will cut it off? A living human saw? A poisoner, who won't let a
man die in peace? I've no use for him. Throw him out of the ship, or
I'll kill him."
"Not another word, Moody!" cried Barthelemy. "It is my wish, and so it
shall be. You manage the ropes and sails, but you need not trouble
yourself about anything else."
"I beg you, sir," said Scudamore, "not to vex our valiant captain, you
seem to be such a worthy man, I know I shall have the warmest regard for
you."
"Come nearer, so that I can see you," said Moody. And when Scudamore
approached near enough for him to reach him with his foot, he gave him
such a kick that he nearly fell over backward.
"Men!" shouted Barthelemy, "bring me the cat o' nine tails. Give this
man thirty blows on the back. Whoever disobeys me must suffer for it."
The nine-lashed scourge was instantly brought. "To work at once!"
Barthelemy commanded. "No one is exempt from punishment."
Moody's eyes fairly started from their sockets with rage, and when the
man bearing the cat o' nine tails approached him, he began to throw
himself frantically to the right and left, but thereby only caused the
blows to fall on him haphazard, till at last one knocked the pipe from
his mouth.
Barthelemy coolly awaited the end of the punishment, and then called
Scudamore to write his name in the list of pirates. Scudamore seized the
pen with eager joy, and wrote his signature with such horrible glee that
even the robbers were startled, and then, turning to Captain Rolls,
exclaimed scornfully:
"When you reach London, inform the government of my new occupation."
Skyrme laid his huge hand on his shoulder and muttered between his
teeth: "You scoundrel, you'll make a first-class devil."
"At least as good as any of you."
From that moment, Scudamore felt perfectly at home in his new sphere,
looking at the list with his name enrolled as if it were some diabolical
patent of nobility, and eyeing Captain Rolls with the air of a newly
appointed official surveying his former comrades.
"Now, Captain Rolls," said Barthelemy, "you can take possession of your
ship. But that we may not leave our mate here in exchange for your
doctor, loose Moody from the mast."
Two pirates obeyed the command, avoiding the feet of the chief mate, who
was trying to deal them a severe kick. When he found his hands free, his
first act was to give the nearest liberator a heavy blow, and the second
to pick up his short pipe and put it between his lips.
"Moody!" said the captain, folding his arms, "I just punished you as
your commander's subordinate; now that it is over we again stand man to
man; if you feel that I have wronged you, take your weapons. I am ready
to give you any satisfaction and, if you desire, will fight with you."
Moody did not utter a syllable in reply, but hastily threw off his coat,
rolled up his sleeves, loosed his collar and, with sparkling eyes,
eagerly looked about for a weapon.
"Give him arms," said Barthelemy; "which will you have, pistol or
sabre?"
"Give me a sword," gasped Moody hoarsely, "we shall be nearer each
other."
"Make room for this brave man, lads; keep out of the reach of his arm,
for he'll strike at any one. Excuse our fighting in your ship, Captain
Rolls, but satisfaction must be given in the presence of those who
witnessed the offence. Well, Moody, are you ready? Give a signal, when
you are ready."
Moody, however, required few preparations, and as soon as he seized the
sword, with the flat of whose blade he dealt a severe blow on the back
of the person who handed it, he began to strike furiously around him in
every direction, so that had twelve men stood near he would have mowed
them all down--only he failed to hit the one directly in front of him.
Barthelemy seemed to be merely toying with him. He scarcely moved his
arm to parry the strokes which his adversary's fury did not suffer him
to calculate.
"Take care--you are running directly upon my sword--Moody, don't put
your own eyes out. Look, I am not standing where you are aiming. Don't
strike at me so fiercely, I shall think you want to kill me."
It was a true robber-fray; for the rage of one adversary, the jests of
the other, the rude laughter of the bystanders, the jeering, irritating
remarks do not occur in duels between gentlemen.
The loud laughter of the pirates enraged the chief mate still more, and
he grew fairly frantic when, glancing aside, he saw among them Dr.
Scudamore, who had spread out his surgical instruments on his knees, and
was gazing at him with a look of diabolical pleasure in his green eyes.
Turning from the captain he rushed directly at the surgeon.
"Oho, my good fellow, don't run overboard," said Barthelemy, barring his
way, upon which Moody, his face distorted by rage, again attacked him.
Barthelemy avoided the blow and pierced his right arm. The chief mate
instantly picked up his sword with his left hand; the foes again
confronted each other, breast to breast.
Then Barthelemy, with a clever trick of fence, struck his antagonist's
sword from his grasp and, setting his foot upon it, seized him by the
throat and flung him among his companions.
Scudamore officiously ran forward to aid the wounded man.
"Don't come here!" roared Moody hoarsely, "or I'll tear you to pieces
and put you on my wounds, as the ourang outang does leaves."
The chief mate would not allow his injuries to be bandaged, but though
bleeding profusely, struggled with his companions till they bound one
arm to a beam; and continued to strike about him with the injured one
till that too, was bound, after which he kicked violently and when his
feet were also tied, bit like a mad dog. They were obliged even to gag
him before the doctor could bandage his wounds, and stanch the blood.
"How bad the old gentleman's teeth are," said Scudamore, with a
malicious twinkle in his eyes. "We shall probably have to pull out some
of them."
Moody could make no reply to this hideous threat except a roar like a
wild beast's, and could not even bite the hand which the doctor passed
over him.
Meanwhile Barthelemy had had the brigantine's crew released and told
them that they would find all their weapons in the mate's cabin, whose
key he would give them when he left the Neptune.
With these words he approached Rolls, bowed courteously, and held out
his hand. After a short pause the latter clasped it, saying:
"Very well, I will take it, in the hope that we may meet again."
"I hope this will happen soon. A presentiment tells me that some day I
shall kill you in a victorious battle, Captain Rolls."
"And one tells me that I shall get you hung, Robert Barthelemy."
"I thank you for your kind intention. By the way, you have only one keg
of biscuits and a cask of water--that will not supply you until you
reach London. May I offer you some of my store of provisions?"
"I will accept it, and trust that you will be fully repaid."
"Oh, it's not worth talking about. I would willingly lend you a few
cannons, that you may not be captured on the way."
"I advise you not to do so, for if I had even two guns, I would try to
recover my stolen silver."
"You are a good fellow. We shall meet again somewhere. Till then,
farewell."
The two captains shook hands with each other. Meanwhile the pirates had
rolled several casks of biscuit and water from their vessel to the
brigantine. Barthelemy gave the sailors the key and, with a bound,
reached the deck of his own ship, the pirates shoved off from the
Neptune and, with three cheers, set sail. Half an hour later, two
vessels were seen moving across the sea in opposite directions, widening
the space between them every moment.