So they attempted to dodge, hoisting all sail, and tacking rapidly, but the pirate ship drew closer, occasionally firing a shot, never hitting them, but close enough to bring the captain’s heart into his mouth.
“They have not our range,” Randolph commented, as the second shot fell short, a little way behind the stern.
“Have they not?” the captain queried sourly, as another ball splashed into the water a few feet ahead of their bow. “’Tis my judgment their gunner’s an expert. He’s but playing with us. They don’t destroy boats that’ll be of service to them.”
He was right. The shots continued until even Randolph had to admit it was deliberate policy that prevented the pirates from scoring hits.
Eventually the other boat drew within hailing distance and the pirates requested, in faultless English, that they surrender. Randolph, determined to resist, replied before the captain could open his mouth.
“Come and see what we have for you here, you dogs!”
The captain looked at him in horror. “They will destroy us now! We haven’t a hope!”
“Nonsense. If your men are not all poltroons, they can give a good account of themselves. Come, men, are you afeared? Help me drive off these scoundrels who would humiliate Devon seamen!”
They seized what weapons they had, a beggarly collection of knives and a few pistols, while Randolph drew his sword. The pirates came alongside, and without waiting for the grappling irons to secure the boats, a tall dark man who had been standing on the side of the pirates’ boat leapt laughing across to the deck of the fishing boat, and advanced on Randolph, flourishing his sword.
“You would defy me?” he asked. Then he attacked, ignoring the fishermen who surrounded them. They had no time to come to Randolph’s assistance, however, for the pirates’ leader was followed immediately by several of his men and the English were soon overpowered. Randolph, who considered himself a good swordsman, was humiliated to find that after only a few passes, his opponent had disarmed him and handed him over to others of his men to secure.
When the Englishmen were all secured, the pirate ordered his men to lay them out on the deck, with Randolph and the captain separate from the others.
“Search the boat,” he ordered as he stood considering Randolph.
“You are a strange fish to have caught,” he mused. “Why are you in French waters?”
“That is my business and I demand you release me,” Randolph blustered.
“Not until you have answered a few questions. Where are you bound?”
“I fail to see what right you have to intercept this boat, attack us, and question us in this way!”
“Does it matter? You are my captives, and as such in my power. If your business is of no interest to me, and not dangerous to France, I might allow you to continue with it.”
“So you are French. I might have known! Let me inform you I work for the English Government and my business has nought to do with you and your country. If you delay me you will have to answer to your own government for it!”
“Well, now, how tedious a prospect.”
Randolph gritted his teeth in fury at the amusement in the other’s voice, but he was prevented from replying as Sibylla appeared on deck, escorted by a grinning Frenchman. The pirate captain turned to her, and lifted his eyebrows in surprise.
* * * *
They stared for several long moments at one another. The pirate saw a golden haired beauty, with a heart-shaped face and enormous blue eyes that stared at him without fear. He noted her bruised cheeks and glanced momentarily at Randolph. Her gown was somewhat crumpled, but it could not disguise the perfection of her figure.
Sibylla saw a tall man, taller than Randolph, with broader shoulders, and slightly older. He was dark, almost swarthy, with black eyes and fierce brows. His nose was straight and his chin firm. He had long curling black hair and a jaunty moustache above lips that were now curved as he smiled in appreciation of what he saw.
When he stepped towards her, she noted the rippling muscles under the silk shirt and the close-fitting breeches. As he drew nearer she gasped, but not with fear. As if in a daze she stared at him, while his smile deepened. He was beside her before he spoke. The appreciative look in his eyes that glinted close to hers, and his deep hypnotic voice, sent a shiver through her.
He bowed. “Your servant, Mademoiselle. I am confounded to find such treasure on such a boat, but delighted to make your acquaintance. I fear it is necessary for you to transfer to my own boat, but I will endeavor to make you as comfortable as possible. Please, do not fear me for no harm shall come to you.”
Without waiting for a reply he offered her his arm. As if in a dream she took it and walked with him to the side of the boat. When she saw a narrow gangplank laid across the gap separating the boats, her step faltered. Was she expected to walk across it? She was not left long in doubt. The pirate bent down swiftly, and before she realized what was happening, had picked her up and leapt onto the plank with her in his arms. She gasped and flung her arms about his neck. He paused, looking down laughingly into her face so close to his.
“I would prolong this delight. Shall we stay suspended here between the boats?”
She blushed, too terrified to withdraw her arms.
“Please, I beg of you!” she whispered, and he tightened his grip on her reassuringly before crossing the remaining step to his own boat. He set her down on the deck and at once released his hold of her.
“Take the lady to my cabin,” he ordered in French, and without waiting to see his orders obeyed, ran back across the gangplank.
Sibylla dredged up her memories of French lessons, wishing she had concentrated more.
“This way, if you please,” one of the pirates said, and touched Sibylla on the arm. Despite his somewhat strange accent, she understood.
She started, and turned from watching the scene on the other boat as the pirate captain began to give orders to his men there. A smiling lad of about her own age was standing beside her and indicated that she follow him. He led her down an easily negotiable companionway and threw open a door into a roomy cabin, comfortably furnished, and taking the whole width of the boat’s stern.
“Is there anything you need?”
She shook her head, but he moved to a cupboard and took out a bottle and a glass.
“Some wine, at least, for our attack must have been an unpleasant shock for you.”
Swiftly he poured the wine and brought it to Sibylla, who had sunk into a comfortably upholstered chair. Unresisting, she took what he offered and drank the wine, which even in her bemused state she recognized as excellent.
“I will leave you now. Our captain will soon have completed his business and will no doubt see you himself then.”
He smiled and bowed himself out. Sibylla pinched herself to discover whether she was dreaming.
* * * *
The pirates, meanwhile, swiftly searched the fishing boat, and the captain inspected their plunder. He glanced briefly at the papers found with Randolph’s possessions and gave them to one of his crew, along with the bag of gold in Randolph’s pocket.
“This needs further investigation. Take the valiant hero who defied me to the Falcon, and secure him.”
This was done, and Randolph, protesting to no avail, found himself transferred to the pirate ship. Then the pirate captain released the fishing boat and its crew. He told them he had no further interest in them, but advised them to make for home as fast as they were able.
Incredulous, but profoundly thankful they were not to be butchered out of hand, they set sail and moved away immediately when the pirates returned to their own boat, giving scarcely a thought to the captives the pirates had retained.
“Thanks be he paid us before the trip,” the captain remarked, expressing the feelings of them all. “We’ll
make a profit yet, and as soon as we get near home we’ll take up a haul of fish and no one will question where we’ve been.”
* * * *
Sibylla realized the boats had separated and were moving apart. She got up and went to the portholes and watched as her former prison sailed away. Then she began wondering whether Randolph was free or a prisoner on this boat. In some trepidation she waited to discover what her own fate was to be.
It was an hour before her curiosity was satisfied, and even then, she did not learn everything. There was a knock on the door, and at her reply, the pirate captain came in.
“I trust you have everything you require?” he asked.
“Apart from my liberty, yes!” Sibylla answered sharply, annoyed at the social conventions he wished to preserve.
He laughed. “Believe me, I would set you down immediately for you to find your own way to wherever you wish to go were it practicable,” he said gently. “As far as is possible, I do not intend to deprive you of your liberty. I regret I cannot allow you the complete freedom of the boat, since that would prove too distracting to my men and I need some work done. I do not propose to keep you in chains, locked in a dark, rat infested hole.”
She shivered, and he went on smoothly.
“I hope you will be comfortable. I shall disturb you as little as possible, but sometimes, I fear, I shall be compelled to work in here, as there is nowhere else suitable. You are welcome to walk on deck at those times, and I will myself escort you at other times, so that you do not feel too confined.”
“What do you intend to do with me?” she asked quietly.
“I cannot say, until I have more information from your companion.”
She looked at him quickly. “He is here too?”
“Yes, but I sent everyone else off, they did not interest me.”
For a wild moment Sibylla was tempted to tell this man her story and beg his help, both to rescue her from Randolph and to warn Gerard of his peril. She looked at him, stirred by an intense desire to trust him, for at that moment he smiled at her, and her heart leaped in response.
Angrily she crushed the feeling, telling herself she was a fool to be swayed by the good looks and charm of villains. Randolph’s perfidy should be warning enough to her not to trust any man again, especially a handsome one who was so sure of himself, as this man was. Besides, she chided herself desperately, he is a pirate! He was a lawbreaker, possibly a murderer, and almost certainly a ravisher. She could not tell him. He would most likely use the knowledge to benefit himself and bring more trouble on her and Gerard.
So she merely nodded, and with a quizzical smile he bowed and left her, saying he would have food brought to her soon. It was almost midday, and since she’d had no breakfast, and but one meal the previous day, she was thankful when the food came, plain and simple, but deliciously cooked and delicately served. The man who brought it deftly set the table and poured wine for her, then deferentially enquired if she would prefer him to stay and serve her.
She found herself amused at the way these pirates took the capture of a young woman so much for granted, and the civilized atmosphere, quite unlike aught she had ever imagined on such vessels. She thanked him, and said she would not detain him. He bowed and left. She set to with relish, and at the end of the meal was almost ready to hope this voyage would be prolonged. Hopeful now that no harm would come to her, she also recognized the longer they remained in the clutches of the pirates, the safer Gerard would be from Randolph. Although she realized he had already been betrayed and must somehow be warned, doing so was a problem she could not yet solve. Thus she must be content for the moment to wait on events.
* * * *
As it grew dark another meal was brought to her and the man lit the lamps. When he came to clear away the dishes, he said the captain wished to know if it would be convenient for him to speak with her now. Sibylla nodded, and a moment later the captain knocked and entered.
“Pray excuse me, Mistress. I felt it was necessary to speak with you.”
Sibylla inclined her head.
“May I sit down?”
“Of course. It is your cabin, and I thank you for giving it up to me.”
“May I know your name? I am Josselin de St. Aubin.”
“Sibylla Hurst.”
“Enchanting, like its owner. Now we are properly introduced, which I understand the English set great store by?”
Sibylla laughed. “The circumstances are a trifle unusual methinks, so I wonder you bother with introductions?”
“Ah, but as well as being able to call you Mistress Hurst, I shall be able to murmur ‘Sibylla’ to myself tonight as I lie with the crew, thinking of the one who occupies my bed!”
Sibylla blushed, but he did not appear to notice and carried on in a more businesslike voice.
“We will not be landing for several days yet, and I wish you to be comfortable, Mistress Hurst. I found you had no baggage with you on the English ship, and unfortunately I am not equipped on this one to offer you a change of clothing. I do have some rolls of silk and taffeta. Will you please select whatever you may require, if you wish to make yourself some gowns? It will also help to pass the time for you.”
He rose and opened a cupboard and Sibylla gasped at the vivid display that met her eyes. Materials of many colors filled the cupboard, and she longed to finger the gorgeous stuff.
“Needles and all else you might require are in this box.”
“Why, thank you, Monsieur. It is yet another surprise on this boat of yours. I am most grateful for I feel shabby and disreputable.”
“Do not enquire where I obtained them,” he said, smiling at her. With a start she recollected what he was. “Now would you care for a turn about the deck before you sleep?”
Eagerly she agreed, being anxious to see more of this boat, and he offered her his arm. He assisted her up the companionway, and they strolled about the deck. Apart from the helmsman, none of the crew was visible. It was now dark, but the moon had not risen, and Sibylla exclaimed at the beauty of the star-studded sky. He told her the names of many of the twinkling lights and she could recognize a few of the simpler constellations herself. They spent a long time gazing upwards, and it was with reluctance that Sibylla agreed when he suggested she return to the cabin.
“I need to take a few of my belongings,” he said as they came back to it, “and then you will not be disturbed until the morning. Here is the key to the door. If you feel unsafe you may lock yourself in.”
He busied himself collecting clothes and papers, and then, with a friendly smile, wished her a good night as he departed. She looked at the key in her hand, and moved towards the door. Somehow it seemed churlish not to trust him and to lock the door, but then she remembered Randolph. She did not know where he was, and how closely confined. If he were as free as she was herself, she could not feel safe with the door unlocked. Hastily she locked it, then undressed, something she had not dared to do while on the English boat. She saw with delight but no especial surprise that a jug of hot water stood on a wash stand, and clean linen towels were placed nearby.
In leisurely fashion she washed herself clean of the grime of the last few days, and then discovered a brush beside the towels and was able to attack the tangles of her hair. It was some time before she sank into the soft bunk, almost immediately to fall asleep, only to dream most disturbingly of the tall, handsome pirate.
* * * *
The next few days passed with almost dreamlike quality for Sibylla. She had been awoken the next morning by a man bringing her breakfast and afterwards had investigated the contents of the cupboard full of materials, choosing a deep blue silk. An expert seamstress, she soon contrived a gown and stitched industriously at it during the many lonely hours. Every day the captain appeared with work to do, spreading out maps on the large table. Feeling he wanted to be
alone then, Sibylla always accepted the proffered escort of another of the pirates, and walked up and down the deck for an hour or so.
They were avoided by the rest of the crew who were invariably polite, but always had a great deal of work to do. Sibylla found it difficult to make conversation until she remarked one day that she ought to take the opportunity to improve her French. She had been well instructed, but had never visited France. The pirate who was her normal escort spoke excellent English, but he welcomed the idea, apparently feeling as constrained as she at their odd situation. After that the strolls were enjoyable and sometimes hilarious as he corrected her accent, told her the names of many things, and explained the usage of certain words.
“I shall know more about boats in French than in English,” she exclaimed one day, when they had made a tour of the deck, naming everything they could see. After that Jean had to tell her their names in English as well as French.
“Do not be concerned. You are making good progress, Mistress Hurst.”
She halted half way along the deck. “How much longer shall I have for making improvement?” she said.
He looked embarrassed. “I do not know what the captain intends,” he muttered. “I regret, Mademoiselle, I can give you no information.”
“No,” she said, “and I should not ask you. I did not mean you to tell me aught your captain does not wish me to know, but it is difficult not knowing what is to become of me.”
“At least you will come to no harm, I can assure you.” He spoke earnestly and she smiled, by now believing him.
The evening strolls with Josselin had become a normal part of the routine as well. Sibylla found herself looking forward to them with pleasure. Apart from these times, and their brief meetings when he came to work in the cabin, she saw little of him. Still he intrigued her more every day, so that she longed to know more about him and discover what made him follow the life of a pirate.
* * * *
That day she finished her new gown and put it on pleased at the effect. The small mirror told her the color matched her eyes, and flattered her fair skin and golden hair. When Josselin came for her, she noted the appreciative gleam in his eyes, but to her secret chagrin he did not compliment her, merely remarking he was pleased the materials had been of use. She fumed inwardly and then scolded herself, realizing she was very much in danger of falling in love with this man.
Sibylla and the Privateer Page 5