CHAPTER X
HOW I SWORE TO THE BLOOD-BROTHERHOOD
I remember the moon was very bright as, reaching the end of a grassylane (or rather cart-track) I saw before me a small, snug-seemingtavern with a board over the door, whereon were the words:
YE PECK OF MALT
BY
JOEL BYM.
And looking the place over, from trim, white steps before the door totrim thatched roof, I marvelled at its air of prosperity; for here itstood, so far removed from road and bye-road, so apparently away fromall habitation, and so lost and hid by trees (it standing within alittle copse) that it was great wonder any customer should ever findhis way hither.
The place was very quiet, not a light showed anywhere and the door wasfast shut, which was nothing strange, for the hour was late. Steppingup to the door I knocked loudly thereon with my cudgel, at firstwithout effect, but having repeated the summons, a voice from withinhailed me gruffly:
"Who knocks?"
"'The Faithful Friend!'" says I. At this, the door swung suddenly openand a lanthorn was thrust into my face, whereupon I fell back a step,dazzled; then gradually, beyond this glare, I made out a dark shapeblocking the doorway, a great fellow, so prodigiously hairy of head andface that little was there to see of features, save two round eyes anda great, hooked nose.
"And who d'ye seek, Faithful Friend?" says he.
"Master Adam Penfeather."
"Why then, Faithful Friend, heave ahead!" says he, and, making way forme to enter, closed the door (the which I noticed was mighty stout andstrong) and, having locked and bolted it, barred it with a stout ironset into massy sockets in either wall.
"You go mighty secure!" says I.
"Cock," quoth the giant, eyeing me over slowly, "Cock, be ye acackler--because if so be you do cackle overly here's we as won't loveye no whit, my cock."
"Good!" says I, returning his look. "I seek no man's love!"
"Cock," quoth he, plunging huge fist into his beard and giving it atug, "I begin to love ye better nor I thought! This way, cock!"Herewith he led me along a wide, flagged passage and up a broad stairwith massy, carven handrail; and as I went I saw the place was muchbigger than I had deemed it, the walls, too, were panelled, and Ijudged it had once formed part of a noble house. At last we reached adoor whereon the fellow knocked softly, and so presently ushered meinto a fair chamber lit by wax candles; and here, seated at a tablewith papers before him and a pen in his fingers, sat Master AdamPenfeather.
"Ha, shipmate," says he, motioning to a chair, "you be somethingearlier than I expected. Suffer me to make an end o' thisbusiness--sit ye, comrade, sit! As for you, Bo'sun, have up a flask o'the Spanish wine--the black seal!"
"Aye, cap'n!" says he, and seizing a fistful of hair above his eyebrow,strode away, closing the door behind him.
Now beholding Penfeather as he bent to his writing--the lean, aquilineface of him so smooth and youthful in contrast to his silver hair--Iwas struck by his changed look; indeed he seemed some bookish studentrather than the lawless rover I had thought him, despite the pistols athis elbow and the long rapier that dangled at his chair-back; moreoverthere was about him also an air of latent power I had not noticed erethis.
At length, having made an end of his writing, he got up and stretchedhimself:
"So, shipmate, art ready to swear the blood-fellowship wi' me?"
"Aye!" says I. "When do we sail?" At this he glanced at me swiftlyfrom the corners of his eyes:
"So ho!" he murmured, pinching his chin. "The wind's changed it seems,you grow eager--and wherefore?"
"'Tis no matter!"
"Shipmate," says he, shaking his head, "an we sail as brothers andcomrades there must be never a secret betwixt us--speak!"
"As ye will!" quoth I, leaning back in my chair. "I learn then you aresailing as master in a ship bound for the Main in quest of Sir RichardBrandon lost off Hispaniola two years agone. Sir Richard Brandon isthe man I have sought ever since I broke out of the hell he sold meinto. Now look'ee, Adam Penfeather," says I, springing to my feet andgrasping his arm, "look'ee now--put me in the way of meeting this man,aid me to get my hand on this man and I am yours--aye, body andsoul--to the end o' things, and this I swear!"
While I spake thus, my voice hoarse with passion, my fingers clutchinghis arm, Penfeather stood pinching his chin and watching me beneath hisblack brows; when I had ended he turned and falls a-pacing to and froacross the room as it had been the narrow poop of a ship.
"Ah--I know you now, my lord!" says he, pausing suddenly before me."As the sailor-man who watched you as you lay a-groaning in your sleepoutside the Conisby Arms, I guessed you one o' the Conisby breed byyour ring, and as one born and bred here in Kent I mind well the adage,'To hate like a Brandon and revenge like a Conisby,' and by God, mylord, you are a true Conisby, it seemeth! Vengeance!" says he, histhin features grown sharp and austere, "Ah! I have seen much andovermuch of it aboard lawless craft and among the wild islands of theCaribbees. I have seen the devilish cruelties of Spaniard, Portugal,and the red horrors of Indian vengeance--but, for cold, mercilessferocity, for the vengeance that dieth not, biding its time andbattening on poisonous hate, it needeth your man o' noble birth, yourgentleman o' quality!" Here he turned his back and paced slowly to theend of the room; when he faced me again his austere look was gone, inits stead was the grimly whimsical expression of the mariner, as I hadseen him first.
"Damme!" says I, scowling, "Was it to read me homilies that you had mehere?"
"Aha, shipmate," says he with rueful smile, "there spake the youngdivine, the excellent divinity student who committed a peccadillo longyears agone and, sailing to the Golden West, gave place to one AdamPenfeather a sailor-man--as you shall hear tell of at St. Kitt's,Tortuga, Santa Catalina and a score o' places along the Main. As toyourself, shipmate, if 'tis only vengeance ye seek, vengeance let itbe, though, when all's done, 'tis but wind--hist! Here cometh theBo'sun--come in, Jo lad, come in! 'Twas trusty Joel Bym here gave me myfirst lesson in navigation--eh, Jo?"
"Aye, Cap'n," growled the hairy giant, "by cock, them was the days, afair wind, a quick eye an' no favour, aye, them was the days, bycock's-body!" So saying, he placed a flask of wine on the table,together with a curious silver cup, and (at a sign from Penfeather)left us together.
"And now, comrade," says Penfeather, filling the goblet, "draw up yourchair and do as I do."
And now as we sat facing each other (across the table) Penfeather turnsback his left sleeve and, whipping out a knife, nicked himselftherewith on the wrist and squeezed thence a few drops of blood intothe wine; which done, he passed the knife to me and I (though mislikingthe extravagance of the thing) nevertheless did the same.
"Martin," says he, "give me your hand--so! Now swear as I do!" Andthus, clasping each other's hands, we swore the oath of brotherhood;and this as followeth, viz."
(1) To keep ever each other's counsel.
(2) To aid each other in all things against all men soever.
(3) To cherish and comfort each other in every adversity.
(4) To be faithful each to each unto the death.
Thereafter, at his command, I drank of the wine wherein our blood wasmingled and he did the like.
"And now," says he, leaning back in his chair and viewing me with hispensive smile, "since we be brothers and comrades sworn, how d'ye likeme now?"
"Better than I did," says I, speaking on impulse, "for sure you are thestrangest picaroon that ever cheated the gallows."
"Ah," says he, pinching his chin, "an I am neither hanged nor murderedyou shall one day find me a worshipful magistrate, Martin, Justice o'the Peace and quorum--custos rotulorum and the rest on't, there myambition lies. As for you, Martin, Lord Wendover, there is your enemy,ha?--bloody vengeance and murder and what beside?"
"That is mine own concern!" I retorted angrily. "And look 'ee, sincecomrades we are, you will forget who and what I am!"
"Why so I have, Martin, so I ha
ve. Art a poor, destitute rogue thatmight be a man and rich but for this vengeful maggot i' thy brain.Howbeit thou'rt my comrade sworn and brother-in-arms and as such Ishall trust thee--to the death, Martin."
"And shall find me worthy, Adam--despite thy curst tongue."
"Death is an ill thing, Martin!"
"Is it?" says I, and laughed.
"Aye," he nodded, "an ill thing to him that hath ambitions above thebrute. See here!" Unbuttoning his doublet he showed me a shirt offine chain-mail beneath his linen. "'Twill turn any point ever forgedand stop a bullet handsomely, as I do know."
"Why, sure," says I, a little scornful, "you avowed yourself a cautiousman--"
"True, Martin, I have another shirt the like o' this for you. And asfor caution, I have need, d'ye see, comrade. The arrow that flieth byday is an ill enough thing, but the knife that stabbeth i' the dark isworse. This shirt hath turned death thrice already--once i' the breasthere and twice 'twixt the shoulders. I am a man marked for death,Martin, murder creepeth at my heels, it hath dogged me overseas andfound me here in Kent at last, it seems. And, comrade, henceforth thesteel that smiteth me shall smite you also, belike."
"And why is your life sought thus?"
"By reason of a secret I bear about me; wherefore (saving only my goodfriend Nicholas Frant who ... perished) I have ever been a solitary manwalking alone and distrustful of my fellows. For, Martin, I have herethe secret of a treasure that hath been the dream and hope of rovingadventurers along the Main this many a year--a treasure beyond price.Men have sought it vainly, have striven and fought, suffered and diedfor it, have endured plague, battle, shipwreck, famine, have diedscreaming 'neath Indian tortures, languished in Spanish dungeon andslaveship, and all for sake of Bartlemy's Treasure. And of all thatever sought it, but one man hath ever seen this treasure, and I am thatman, Martin. And this treasure is so marvellous well hid that withoutme it shall lie unfound till the trump of doom. But now, since we arebrethren and comrades, needs must I share with thee the treasure andthe secret of it."
"No, no, Adam!" says I. "Keep it to yourself, I'll none of it."
"Share and share!" says he. "'Tis the law of the Coast."
"None the less I want nought of it."
"'Tis the law," he repeated, "and moreover with such vast wealth a manshall buy anything in this world--even vengeance, Martin. Look'ee now,here's the secret of our treasure." Hereupon he thrust his hand intohis breast and drew out a small oilskin packet or bag, suspended abouthis lean throat by a thin steel chain, and from this he drew forth asmall roll of parchment.
"Here 'tis, Martin," says he softly, "here's that so many lusty menhave perished for--not much to look at, shipmate, torn, d'ye see andstained, but here's wealth, Martin, fame, honours, all the vices andall the evils, and chief among 'em--vengeance!"
So saying, he unrolled the small scrap of parchment, and holding itbefore me, I saw it was a rough chart.
"Take it, Martin, and study it the while I tell you my story."
Black Bartlemy's Treasure Page 11