Greenbeard (9781935259220)

by Bentley, Richard James

  “Oh, Lord, Jake! You have just heard him, have you not? He says ‘I will tell you all, so that you may have faith in me, my fellow buccaneers!’ and then he tells us nothing at all, but everyone is happy and feels that he has opened his heart to them.”

  “He said were are to voyage far, farther than any freebooters have ever gone before, and that we will win a great fortune. He has hinted at this before, and indeed it do seem likely, as he has spent gold like a nabob and we have nothing yet to show for it, not even one prize, which irks the older fellows greatly. Some of them guess that we are off to plunder the Great Cham of Tartary, some reckon it to be the treasure of Prester John, others aver it must be the emperor of far Cathay and yet others speak of the legends of a land even further to the east, where the sun do rise. What say you, Jack?”

  “I do not know, but that … device down there,” Jack indicated the object on the raft by the side of the Ark de Triomphe, “that piques my curiosity, and not in a way that brings me comfort. It has an unnatural look to it. The things that come from the distant east - the porcelain vases, the bronze urns, the painted fans and screens and such – they look foreign enough, surely, but not as strange as that. I look at it and I feel uneasy in my heart.”

  The two young pirates stared down at the object. Pirates were cleaning the seaweed and barnacles from it, and the strange blue-green-tinted metal of the vessel gleamed in the early-morning light.

  “Jack, do you not trust the Cap’n, then?” said Jake slowly, in an undertone.

  “As sure as God is my witness, I do trust him, and would willingly risk my life and the salvation of my soul for him, for he has ever shown me the greatest kindness and forbearance, especially when I first came aboard this barky and was no more than a giddy boy, and I owe my good fortune to him entire, but I wish I knew more of his mind and of his plans.”

  “Blue Peter knows something of those, I say, for he is oft-times inward and thoughtful, and yet he follows the Cap’n without question. All the others, young pirates and old, keep to their own counsel with patience, too, and do not much discuss what they may only hazard guesses at.”

  “Ah, you are right! Of course you are right! He always comes up trumps in the end, and we are all the richer for his cunning. I regret speaking now, for it may bring ill luck.” Jack Nastyface crossed himself furtively and knocked with his knuckles on the brine-pickled pitch-pine timber of the mast. “Do please forget I spoke at all, and say nothing to the others, Jake! Not to anybody!”

  “Assuredly, Jack! Speak of what, pray? Ho-ho! Come on, let’s to work! There are pots waiting for me to scrub, and you must knot, splice, serve and parcel until your fingers ache, and then take your turn at the cursed air-pumps, too, even if you know not the reason why!”

  Jake Thackeray swung himself through the lubber’s hole and climbed down the ratlines. Jack Nastyface disdained to follow him and slid down the back-stay to the deck hand-over-hand in a seamanlike manner.

  On the raft by the frigate’s side the seaweed and marine growth had been scraped from the metal vessel. It resembled two huge shallow dishes joined rim-to-rim.

  “A Greek discus, that is what it brings to mind,” said Mr Benjamin to Loomin’ Len Lummocks. “Where is the saw?”

  One of Len’s bully-boys brought forth a saw. It resembled a shipwright’s whipsaw, which is longer than a man is tall, with wooden handles at each end for two men to cut planks from a dressed tree-trunk in a sawpit. However, instead of steel teeth the edge of this saw was set with gemstones along its length. They gleamed with rainbow colours in the sunlight.

  “A king’s ransom of diamonds!” Mr Benjamin shook his head ruefully. “But they shall work for us and not decorate a lady’s breast, which is surely the first time such sparklers have been useful instead of merely ornamental. Set to lads! Use the lignum-vitae blocks to hold it steady until it bites a groove, and you!” He pointed to a young pirate, once apprenticed to a millwright, who held a tin kettle. “Dribble the oil on slowly, in a thin stream.”

  Two bully-boys took up the saw and placed it against the blocks of hard wood held on the convex surface of the strange object by two more bully-boys. The young pirate poured a thread of olive oil onto the blade and the saw was pulled back-and-forth in a smooth continuous action. After a quarter of an hour Mr Benjamin told the sawing bully-boys to change places with the bully-boys holding the saw’s position with the blocks. He examined the metal surface while the sawing was halted, squinting through his pince-nez spectacles with furrowed brows.

  “Bless me! … sorry! … Avast, shipmates, har-har! … The saw is biting! This will be slow work, for this strange metal is prodigious hard, but you shall prevail! With a will, my lads! With a will!”

  Captain Greybagges watched from the quarterdeck rail, his face tense. When he heard Mr Benjamin’s words he looked relieved. He shouted encouragement to the bully-boys sawing at the vessel, the glittering saw-blade moving rhythmically and relentlessly, and halloo’d to the pirates at the air-pumps as well, then went below.

  In the Great Cabin the rasping rhythm of the diamond-toothed saw could be faintly heard through the open stern windows, ssssss-ssssss-ssssss-ssssss, faster than the laboured honk-wheeze of the two air-pumps, as well as the normal shouts, bangs and clatters of a fighting ship at anchor. Captain Sylvestre de Greybagges listened to the odd syncopation of the noises. Mumblin’ Jake brought a tray with a pot of coffee, a jug of water with lemon slices and ice, cups, glasses and a plate of biscuits. Blue Peter Ceteshwayoo entered as Mumblin’ Jake left, mumbling. He was dressed in a work-rig of an old cotton shirt and knee-britches, his calves and feet bare. He brought with him the sharp musk-tang of fresh sweat.

  “You have been at the air-pump, Peter, if I may hazard a guess.” The Captain poured him coffee, but Blue Peter first took a glass of iced water and drained it in a draught, wiping his mouth with a soft “ahhh!” of pleasure.

  “Indeed I have. It is best if we all share in these tedious labours, Captain. I wished to take a turn at the bejewelled saw, too, as it is the most costly saw in the entire world, but Frank waved me away. I think he does not wish Len and his boys to be put off their stroke.”

  “I suppose it is a little like rowing, Peter, even though Frank isn’t calling ‘pull-pull-pull’ as the cox used to do when I was at Cambridge and training on the Cam for the annual race against Oxford, our deadly rivals in rowing as well as learning. The cox used to ride a horse, trotting along the towpath, shouting at us through a speaking-trumpet, the ass.”

  Mr Benjamin joined them, dressed nearly as casually as Blue Peter, but with silk hose and stout buckled shoes. His round face beamed with satisfaction, and his eyes twinkled behind his pince-nez spectacles.

  “Ha-ha! Coffee and biscuits! Very welcome!” He poured himself a black coffee and took a handful of biscuits.

  “Does the cutting proceed well, Frank?”

  “It does, Cap’n, it does. Len and his boys have got the feel of it now. How hard they must bear down on the saw, how much oil to drip, how often to stop and clear the swarf, which is the little slivers of cut metal, they can clog the teeth. They are doing so well I felt that I could leave them for a short while.” He popped another biscuit in his mouth and slurped some coffee.

  “How long before the first cut is completed, Frank?” said the Captain, suddenly serious.

  Mr Benjamin stared at the ceiling, one eye shut. “Twelve hours, more or less, Cap’n.”

  “Hmm, then we must work through the night, I’m afraid, Frank. Time presses on me!”

  “That will need lamps to light the cutting work. It cannot be done just by feel.”

  “Peter, can you get a tent rigged over the raft? I do not want to show even a glim of light which may be seen from the sea.”

  “That does not present any difficulties, Captain. There is sailcloth, and it can be painted black. Surely a screen around would be sufficient? A blindée, as the French would say? The men will need air in this heat, even at night.
”

  “Excellent! Yes, do that before twilight. Can you cope with that, Frank?”

  “Surely, Captain. There are other strong men in the crew, and the bully-boys will need sleep. If the strong men are paired on the saw with one of Len’s boys in daylight they will learn how to do it, and we will be able to continue through the night, I suppose.”

  “Are there any problems that you can foresee, either of you?”

  “I am worried about the saw, Cap’n,” said Mr Benjamin, “a couple of the diamond teeth have shattered, and I fear that more will do the same, and as there are less teeth, there is more force upon those that remain, and we must make four cuts to open the … discus and gain access to its interior. Will the saw last long enough?”

  “There are another seven diamond saws in the hold, Frank. I thought it best to be over-prepared. We cannot stop to go to the Antwerp diamond-bourse for more, after all.”

  Mr Benjamin and Blue Peter digested this news in silence.

  “Come, gentlemen, I could not advertise that we had a fortune in diamonds in the hold! The crew are loyal, and every one a rich man already, but the temptation to creep down and jimmy a few sparklers out would have been too much for some, I’m sure, even though they are very small diamonds.”

  “Eight diamond saws, Captain?” said Blue Peter wonderingly. “They must have cost enough to make King Croesus curse!”

  “Well, Peter, as I said, they are quite small diamonds, mostly of a poor yellowish colour, and not cut into many facets as are diamonds for jewellery, so I got them at a very good price!”

  “Good gracious! Even so …” said Mr Benjamin, shaking his head. “In that case I think we may have the discus vessel opened in about forty-eight hours, two days at most, if we saw continuously night and day without respite.”

  Mr Benjamin stood up and clamped his hat back on his head, bid them good-day and left to continue supervising the cutting.

  “Sylvestre,” said Blue Peter in a low voice, “this is the extramundane craft in which you made your escape, is it not?”

  “Ah, Peter! You have a quick and intuitive mind!” smiled Captain Greybagges. “Indeed it is! I was inexperienced in handling such things - a regular landlubber! – and I hit the waters of the bay moving at a great speed. I was lucky to keep my body and soul intact, but the craft was badly wrecked, the glass cupola upon its top smashed, and it sank like a stone.” He poured himself more coffee and took another biscuit. “Let us finish our coffee, then perhaps do a turn upon those blasted air-pumps to encourage the others!”

  It took forty-two hours to saw four cuts in the hull of the extramundane craft, creating a square hole. Mr Benjamin and Loomin’ Len ceremoniously made the final strokes of the diamond saw and the last connecting finger of blue-green-tinted metal parted with an audible clink in the early hours of the second day, shortly after the ship’s bell rang the beginning of the first dog-watch. In the yellow glow of the whale-oil lamps two bully-boys lifted out the sawn section, expressing muttered surprise at how light it was, despite being as thick as a hatch-batten. A quiet spatter of applause came from the rail of the Ark de Triomphe, where most of the day-watch and the waisters had joined the night-watch to witness the feat.

  Captain Greybagges clambered down onto the raft. He bowed a mock formal bow to Mr Benjamin, took the proffered lantern and was the first to peer into the dark inside of the lenticular extramundane craft. He was grinning broadly. He handed the lantern back to Mr Benjamin, who peered inside and grinned when he withdrew his head from the aperture.

  “Not a trace of water or damp, Captain! And no obvious sign of damage. We are blessed with good fortune!”

  The bully-boys hissed and muttered, outraged that Mr Benjamin should speak thus and attract bad luck.

  “Quick, Frank! Knock your knuckles on the side of the ship! Hard as you can! Now whistle and turn round three times widdershins!” He took Mr Benjamin’s shoulders and spun him round anticlockwise. “Ah, there, Frank! Any ill turns of fate that may have been brought by your words are averted by our seamanlike wisdom and prompt action!” He winked at Mr Benjamin and continued in a lower voice. “You know what to do now, Frank. Carry on!”

  Captain Greybagges climbed back up the side of the frigate with the aid of a dangling rope and addressed the assembled pirates.

  “Mr Benjamin spoke without thinking, but he is right! Things are looking very fine and ship-shape! You are all curious as to what this strange metal sea-shell contains, but there is no treasure in there, nor any gold or jewels. BUT!” and he spoke in a loud commanding voice, “in there are some devices which we will need, which I expected to find, which will enable us to do some great things! You will see them as Mr Benjamin and his lads bring them into the ship, so you will see them and do not need to sneak onto the raft to get a peek, but they do not look like much, I tell you, just some metal boxes and drums. Do NOT get in Mr Benjamin’s way! Do NOT be foolish from mere curiosity! Do NOT touch these things! If you do you will be like an ape in a powder-magazine with a tinder-box! Let Mr Benjamin and his lads do their work, and I promise you that in the next weeks you will see some sights that will astound you. Wonders that shall amaze and delight you! Just you be patient awhile! NOW you day-watch fellows and you waisters must go to your hammocks and sleep, for there is more hard work to be done upon the dawn, which is close upon us. Hard work, yes indeed, and plenty of it, but labour handsomely, my fine buccaneers, and we shall have a little jollity before we leaves this bay. We shall have a boucan! Two oxen, three hogs and three sheep are coming to be roasted for your pleasure. Mr Bucephalus! Mr First Mate! Give these stout pirates a double ration of rum, so they may sleep as sound as babies! And the same for the dog-watches when they stands down.”

  The pirates went to their hammocks, accompanied by a low mutter of talk, leaving just the night-watch on deck, and Mr Benjamin, his skilled men and Len and the bully-boys on the raft in the dim glow of the lamps.

  The first device was brought out from the strange seashell in the mid-morning, and indeed it did not look like much; a lead-grey cylinder with some flanges, bumps and hollows on its smooth surface. Mr Benjamin, his eyes now red from lack of sleep, and his small team of apprentices-turned-pirates – a watchmaker, a scientific-instrument maker, two millwrights, a coppersmith and a maker of brass trumpets and horns – clustered around as two of Loomin’ Len’s bully-boys hefted the grey cylinder through the square hole and placed it on a wooden stollage. A block-and-tackle lifted it onto the deck and then it was carried below into the bowels of the ship. Another identical grey cylinder followed three hours later, and then another, and then another. Whispered reports flew round the frigate:

  “They have bolted it to the flat plate on the iron keel, under the foremast! The larboard plate!” – “Mr Benjamin dropped a wrench on his foot and howled in anger and cursed most foully!” – “Now there are two of them bolted to the for’ard keel!” – “The watchmaker has had a finger crushed under the bottom of one when it slipped, but he has wrapped a silk kerchief around it and he works on! His finger, of course, you lubber, the kerchief went around his finger!” – “Now two of them are bolted to the aft keel, side-by-side!” – “They are joining all four of them to the copper bars, working to a secret plan of squiggles on a square of paper! No, nobody knows why! I said it was a secret plan, didn’t I, have you got ears of sailcloth?”

  At dusk Captain Greybagges told Mr Benjamin to stop and rest, for he, his skilled team and the bully-boys has now been working without respite and sustained only snatched snacks for two-and-a-half days. Then he ordered them to stop, for they were unwilling to obey and would have defied him. After a hot meal and a pint of iced rum-grog they fell asleep where they sat or stood, still mumbling that they could carry on, surely they could, and friends carried them gently to their berths, removed their shoes and tip-toed away. Miss Chumbley and the leader of the island women tended to the clockmaker’s finger as he slept, cleaning the wound with warm water and vinegar, ba
ndaging it with cotton cloth and splinting the finger with a thin strip of rawhide, sufficient to restrict movement but not so stiff as to cause discomfort. The watchmaker muttered between his snores, but did not awake.

  Jack Nastyface and Jake Thackeray sat on the mizzenmast mainsail crosstrees, which had become their accustomed spot for a yarn and a smoke, eating a handful of Jake’s biscuits, watching the sun lift itself over the horizon. The air was still cool, but the brassy rising sun foretold a hot morning, which in Nombre Dios bay was no surprise.

  “Look! There goes Mr Benjamin and his mechanics,” said Jake.

  “And eager as foxhounds! Mr Benjamin has not even taken his air-bath!” said Jack. “But see, he gives his wig and spectacles to Len and douses his head under the seawater pump. And he goes straight for the raft, his hair still wet! What wonders will he bring out from the scallop-shell today?”

  “Another fascinating grey lump of something-or-other, no doubt. What were those things?”

  “The Cap’n knows, and maybe Mr B and his mechanics, but nobody else does, although they do not let that inhibit them from making guesses. Let us be about our business, Jake, for those mechanical fellows have shamed us all, and any slacking today will be much remarked, and not in a kindly way.” Jack slid down the backstay, and Jake climbed carefully through the lubber’s hole and down the ratlines. Pirates in the rigging called out “har-har, you old woman!” but he ignored their comments with the unshakable dignity of the one who holds the serving-ladle at mealtimes.

  The next wonder to emerge from the ‘scallop-shell’ was not a grey cylinder, but a vaguely spherical object with flat faces, also grey, but a darker blue-grey. It was manhandled through the square aperture in the extramundane craft’s hull with great difficulty, for it was almost too big to fit and seemed to be very heavy. Whispers went from mouth to ear round the crew: