Black Bartlemy's Treasure
Page 44
CHAPTER XLIII
OF THE DEATH-DANCE OF THE SILVER WOMAN
A small wind had sprung up that came in fitful gusts and with soundvery mournful and desolate, but the moon was wonderfully bright and,though I went cautiously, my hand on the butt of the pistol in mygirdle, yet ever and always at the back of my mind was an infinitude ofjoy by reason of my dear lady's love for me and the wonder of it.
I chose me a devious course, avoiding the white sands of DeliveranceBeach, trending towards that fatal cleft hard by Bartlemy's tree (thewhich we had come to call Skeleton Cove) though why I must go hither Iknew no more then than I do now.
Thus went I (my eyes and ears on the stretch) pondering what manner ofman this should be who sang words the which had so haunted my sickdreams; more than once I stopped to stare round about me upon the wideexpanse of ocean, dreading and half expecting to behold the loom ofthat black craft had dogged us over seas.
Full of these disquieting thoughts I reached the cove and began todescend the steep side, following goat-tracks long grown familiar. Theplace hereabouts was honeycombed with small caves and with ledgesscreened by bushes and tangled vines; and here, well hid fromobservation, I paused to look about me. But (and all in a moment) Iwas down on my knees, for from somewhere close by came the sharpsnapping of a dried stick beneath a stealthy foot.
Very still I waited, every nerve a-tingle, and then, forth into themoonlight, sudden and silent as death, a man crept; and verily if evermurderous death stood in human shape it was before me now. The manstood half-crouching, his head twisted back over his shoulder aswatching one who followed; beneath the vivid scarf that swathed histemples was a shock of red hair and upon his cheek the sweat wasglittering; then he turned his head and I knew him for the man RedAndy, that same I had fought aboard ship. For a long moment he stoodthus, staring back ever and anon across Deliverance, and so comescreeping into the shadow of the cliff, and I saw the moon glint on thebarrel of the long pistol he clutched, as, sinking down behind a greatboulder, he waited there upon his knees.
Now suddenly as I lay there watching Red Andy's murderous figure andstrung for swift action, I started and (albeit the night was very warm)felt a chill pass over me, as, loud and clear upon the stilly air, roseagain that full, deep voice singing hard by upon Deliverance:
"Go seek ye women everywhere, North, South, lads, East or West, Let 'em be dark, let 'em be fair, My Silver Woman's best, Blow high, blow low, Where e'er ye go The Silver Woman's best. Aha! My Silver Woman's best!"
Thus sang the unknown who, all unwitting, was coming to his death;sudden as it came the voice was hushed and nought to hear save the hissand murmur of the surge, and I saw the man Andy stir restlessly asminute after minute dragged by.
The rock where he crouched lay at the mouth of this cove towardsDeliverance, it being one of many that lay piled thereabout. Nowchancing to look towards these scattered rocks (and for no reason inthe world) I saw a thing that held me as it were spellbound, and this asmall enough thing in itself, a sharp, glittering thing that seemedfast caught in a fissure of one of those rocks, and I knew it for asteel hook; but even as I stared at it, the thing was gone and sonoiselessly that I half-doubted if I had seen it or no. But, out fromthe shadow of this rock flashed something that whirled, glittering asit flew, and Red Andy, starting up from his knees was shaken by a fitof strange and awful coughing and came stumbling forward so that Icould see his chin and breast bedabbled with the blood that spurtedfrom his gaping mouth. All at once he sank to his knees and thence tohis face, spreading his arms wide like one very weary, but with themoonlight flashing back from that which stood upright betwixt hisshoulder-blades. And thus I saw again the silver haft of the daggerthat was shaped like to a woman, saw this silver woman dance and leap,glittering, ere it grew terribly still.
Then came Roger Tressady from the shadows and stooping, turned up thedead face to the moon, and tapped it gently with his shining hook. Andnow, whipping out his dagger, he bent to wipe it on the dead man'sshirt, but checked suddenly as a pebble started beneath my foot, and,stooped thus, he glared up beneath thick brows as I rose up with pistollevelled and the moon bright upon my face, whereupon he leapedbackwards, uttering a choking cry:
"Black Bartlemy--by God!" he gasped and let fall his reeking daggerupon the sand; and so we stood staring on each other and with the deadman sprawling betwixt us.