Having dined off some very greasy dishes served up with cassava or
lentils, and seasoned with hot peppers in the Brazilian fashion, Carew
and the mate lit their pipes, and the one-eyed negro brought them cups
of black coffee and glasses of white native rum. The table at which they
sat was at some distance from any other, so all risk of their
conversation being overheard was obviated.
"All these men are thieves, you say?" said Carew, looking round at the
strange assembly, on whose faces the Venetian lanterns cast a ruddy
glow.
"Yes, thieves and murderers, all of them," replied the mate, "but
well-behaved, quiet folk, as you see. One is safer here than in some of
the flash cafes in the main streets of Rio."
"They carry their characters on their faces. I only see one in the whole
crowd whom I would not instinctively distrust. Who is that tall,
handsome old man with the long white hair and beard?"
"That is our worthy host," said Baptiste. "He looks like a mild,
mediaeval saint, but there is much blood on his hands. I must introduce
him to you, for he is a celebrated character in his way."
Baptiste caught the old man's eye, and beckoned to him to approach the
table.
"Good-evening to you, Father Luigi. I think you understand French?"
The old man nodded an assent.
"I don't suppose you remember me? I have not been here for a very long
time."
"I never forget a face that I have seen in my cafe," replied the host in
French, with a strong Italian accent.
"This, Luigi, is my present captain, an English milord, travelling in
his yacht; and this, captain, is the once well-known Roman brigand,
Luigi Querini. Oh, an awful cut-throat in his time, I assure you."
Querini shook his head sadly. "But not so now, signor. I am getting old.
Heigh-ho, but those were grand days we had in the Abruzzi Mountains
before Victor Emmanuel's gendarmerie spoilt Italy."
"Sit down and have a glass with us, Luigi," said the mate. "_Salud y
pesetas_--health and dollars to you; that's an old River Plate toast.
Luigi knows Buenos Ayres well, captain. He'll tell us all about it."
"Yes, I know it too well," said the old man. "I was a soldier of the
Argentine Republic, and lived on mare's flesh on the Indian frontier for
four years."
"What made you do that?" asked Carew.
"I see you are a stranger to South America, sir. Understand, I was not a
volunteer. I had a misfortune, and therefore was pressed into the army
for punishment."
"To have a misfortune is a Pampas euphemism for having murdered a man,"
explained the mate.
"There is, as you know, no capital punishment in the River Plate,"
continued the Italian; "if a man kills another the penalty is so many
years' service in the army."
"What a respectable army it must be," remarked Carew.
"It is so," said Baptiste. "They are wise people, those Argentines. If a
man is addicted to homicide for his private ends, they turn him into a
wholesale homicide for the public good. That may be called the
homoeopathic treatment of murder; like curing like."
Carew laughed boisterously at the mate's witticism, and the silent men
at the tables round, hating the sound of merriment, turned their faces
towards him and scowled savagely.
A species of intoxication had come to Carew. The strange sights and
strong emotions of the day, the grotesque contrast presented by this
lovely bower of pure blossoms and the foul and evil men who sat beneath
it, confused his brain. His surroundings seemed so fantastically
inconsistent--so unreal--that he felt as if he were some irresponsible
being in a land of dreams, that it mattered not what he did. He was
filled with a reckless joviality.
The mate had been watching him with his keen eyes. He knew what this
exaltation of spirits indicated, and divined that the moment was
opportune for the mooting of his diabolical scheme. In the present
condition of his mental faculties, the captain's obstructive conscience
would be partly paralysed, and he would be able to listen to the mate's
proposals without overmuch shrinking horror. So the shrewd Frenchman,
losing no more time, hinted to the host that his presence at the table
was no longer needed, and Querini took himself off to hobnob with
another acquaintance.
Baptiste then stretched out his legs and said--
"This is very comfortable after having been cramped up so long on board
that little boat of yours; but I hope, sir, to see you captain of a much
larger vessel in a week or so at the latest."
"So we are coming to your wonderful scheme. Let me hear all about it."
"You remember, sir, that as we sailed into the bay this morning I
pointed out a small barque to El Toro, and remarked how much she
resembled the old _Vrouw Elisa_."
"I remember your words perfectly. You betrayed yourself."
"Intentionally, captain. We understand each other now; there are no
secrets between us. Away with hypocrisy! Of course El Toro, El Chico,
and myself formed part of the crew of the _Vrouw Elisa_. But it is
unnecessary to recount to you our adventures on board that vessel."
"They do not interest me."
"I don't think you'd care to hear them," said Baptiste, showing his
white teeth with a grim smile. "Well, to proceed. When you were at the
consul's this morning, I entered a little drinking shop on the Mole, and
there I overheard some sailors speaking about their vessel, which I soon
made out to be the barque lying near us under Villegagnon, the one like
the _Vrouw Elisa_. Said one man to the other in French--
"'I suppose she's got the most valuable cargo on board of any vessel in
Rio.'
"I pricked up my ears on hearing this.
"'She'd be a fine prize for a pirate,' replied the other man.
"'If there were pirates nowadays,' said the first.
"Feeling interested, I made inquiries about this vessel--Waiter, stand
off another few yards. I am talking over some private business with
this gentleman."
The negro, not unused to such commands, promptly removed himself.
"I discovered that the barque comes from a little harbour down the
coast, near Santa Catharina. It seems that some prospectors have
discovered gold in the neighbouring mountains. The quartz is
exceptionally rich; the cost of importing the necessary machinery would
be great. They are consequently shipping a large quantity of this quarts
to Europe to be crushed. That barque, sailing under the French flag, is
bound for Swansea with a cargo of this: no ordinary auriferous quartz,
let me tell you, but containing a hitherto unexampled percentage of
gold. She has put in here for some slight repairs, and will sail in two
days. The barque is a new vessel, and is worth a lot of money; but the
value of the cargo is enormous. Now, my little plan is that we four, the
crew of the _Petrel_, seize this vessel and make our fortunes."
Carew laughed scornfully. "Idiot!" he said; "is this your precious
scheme? I took you for too clever a man to talk such nonsense. Even if
we did succeed in seizing this vessel, what could we do with her? In
what port could we dispose of her cargo? Piracy is impossible in these
days. Don't you know that?"
"Who talked of piracy? Surely, captain, you know me by this time. Am I
not a coward? Am I one to commit a risky crime? I would break no law
unless I felt that I was absolutely secure from detection; and when I do
feel that, upon my soul, I don't know what villainy I would shrink from;
for, as for conscience--bah! I have none. Now please follow the outlines
of my scheme. I will leave it to your ingenuity to fill up the details."
Carew, in his present mood, felt a reluctant admiration for the cool and
cynical ruffian before him.
"Piracy, in the ordinary sense of the term, is of course out of date,"
continued the mate, as he sipped his fiery rum; "but the intelligent man
adapts his method to the age he lives in. I will now tell you a little
story. An English yacht, manned by four worthy fellows, sails out of Rio
one fine day. In the night, when she is some leagues from the land, a
dreadful accident of some kind happens--say she runs into a large
fragment of wreckage, and staves herself in. Anyhow, she founders.
Happily, her crew have time to lower the boat, and getting into it they
pull away, weeping to behold the vessel, that has been their home for so
long, go down. But they feel happier and dry their eyes when their brave
captain tells them that the yacht is well insured. Providence assists
them, for at daybreak they sight a French barque. They signal to her,
are seen, are soon taken on board, and the barque resumes her voyage to
Europe. After some days our four shipwrecked mariners, who have been
watching their opportunity, and who are well armed, surprise the crew,
take possession of the vessel, sail her into the nearest port, and claim
salvage for the derelict which they have had the luck to pick up; and
their lives for the future are happy, wealthy, and respectable. Do you
follow my story, captain? Hi! waiter, bring us some more rum and some
Bahia cigars."
Carew sat quite motionless for some time, looking downwards, so that
Baptiste could not see the expression of his face. The black brought the
rum to the table and went away again. Then Carew raised his head. "I
follow your story," he said, in a low, husky voice; "but you did not
mention what became of the crew of the barque."
"Ah, yes! What did become of them?" exclaimed the mate in an airy way.
"I forget. They were lost somehow, I imagine--were disposed of in some
convenient fashion--who knows? But that is a detail."
Carew's face had turned fearfully white. "Thou devil!" he cried
passionately, between his set teeth. "Not that--not that! Speak no more
of this. It is impossible."
"Understand me, captain," said the mate, abandoning his bantering tone
for one of serious determination. "You are not going to have everything
your own way. I must have money, and plenty of it. El Chico and El Toro
must have money. Join us in carrying out this scheme, and we will share
the spoil between the four of us. If you don't agree to this, I will
expose you at once, Mr. Carew, and you will know what a nasty hole a
Brazilian prison is. I am sorry to use this language, but business is
business, captain."
Carew looked down again, and Baptiste, furtively watching him, saw that
his mouth was twitching and the perspiration breaking out on his
forehead.
The wretched man endeavoured to think his way out of the terrible
dilemma before him. He had to choose between the commission of a crime
more atrocious than any he had ever conceived, and a disgrace and
punishment infinitely worse than death. He tried to realise his
position, but his brain seemed numbed. The two alternatives kept
crossing and recrossing his mind in rapid succession. He was conscious
of them, but he could not reason upon them. He was incapable of
consecutive thought for the time.
Suddenly a discordant brass band in a low dancing saloon hard by burst
out into a triumphant march, as a prelude to the night's riot of drunken
sailors. It was a fragment of some French opera-bouffe, suggestive of
feverish joy heedless of the morrow, of mad and reckless orgie. The
sound was in accord with the man's distracted state. It at once awoke
his mind from its lethargy. A wild and fierce impulse rushed upon him.
Blindly he abandoned himself to what he considered to be his destiny,
and a tempter seemed to whisper to him, "Trust to your luck. See how
luck has been with you so far. Fortune will certainly find some way of
relieving you of the crew of the barque, so that it will not be
necessary for you to have their blood on your head. Arthur Allen stood
in your path. He was removed from it; yet you were not his murderer. So
will it be now. Trust to chance."
Then Carew looked up. His features were calm and rigid, but had a
ghastly expression. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but appeared to
be unable to articulate. He poured himself out a quantity of the white
rum into a glass and swallowed it. "And the other two men?" he whispered
hoarsely.
Baptiste understood his meaning. "El Chico and El Toro can be relied
upon for this business. I know them," he said.
The eyes of the two men met. There was a long pause. Then Carew muttered
the two words--
"I consent!"