'It will be worthy,' was the bitter comment. 'It will be brave, towards an unfortunate who must bear whatever comes lest worse should follow.'
But she was no longer listening. The stroke of her whip had scattered some of the letters heaped upon the table. Her attention was sharply diverted.
'Has a packet come from England?' Her breathing seemed to quicken as he watched her.
'I spoke, I think, of the King's business. Here you see it. At the breakfast–table.'
She was already rummaging through the heap, scanning each package in turn. 'Are there letters for me?'
It was a second or two before his suddenly compressed lips parted again to reply evasively: 'I haven't seen all of them yet.'
She continued her search, whilst he watched her from under his brows. At the end she looked at him again.
'Nothing?' she asked, on a note of surprised, aggrieved inquiry. Her brows were knit, her delicate chin seemed to grow more pointed. 'Nothing?'
'You have looked for yourself,' he said.
She turned slowly away, her lip between finger and thumb. He was grimly amused to observe that the furious grievance with which she had sought him was forgotten; that her wrath on the matter of the slave had been quenched in another preoccupation. Slowly she moved to the door, passing out of his range of sight. Her hand upon the knob, she paused. She spoke in a voice that was soft and amiable. 'You have no word from Geoffrey?' He answered without turning. 'I have told you that I have not yet looked through all the letters.'
Still she lingered. 'I did not see his hand on any of them.'
'In that case he has not written to me.'
'Odd!' she said slowly, 'It is very odd. We should have had word by now of when to expect him.'
'I'll not pretend to anxiety for that news.'
'You'll not?' A flush slowly inflamed her face in the pause she made. Then her anger lashed him again. 'And I? You've no thought, of course, for me, chained in this hateful island, with no society but the parson and the commandant and their silly wives. Haven't I sacrificed enough for you that you should grudge me even the rare company of someone from the world, who can give me news of something besides sugar and pepper and the price of blackamoors?' She waited through a silent moment. 'Why don't you answer me?' she shrilled.
He had turned pale under his tan. He swung slowly round in his chair.
'You want an answer, do you?' There was an undertone of thunder in his voice.
Evidently she didn't. For at the mere threat of it she went abruptly out, and slammed the door. He half rose, and she little knew in what peril she stood at that moment from the anger that flamed up in him. Emotion of any kind, however, was short–lived in this lethargic–minded man. An imprecation fluttered from him on a sigh as he sagged back again into his chair. Again unfolding the sheet which his hand had retained during her presence in the room, he resumed his scowling study of it. Then, having sat gloomily in thought for a long while, he rose and went to lock both the letter and the vellum–bound volume in a secretaire that stood between the open windows. After that, at last, he gave his attention to the other packages that awaited him.
IV
Lady Court's yearnings for society from the great world, which were at the root of a good deal of the wretchedness of that household, received some satisfaction on the morrow, when the Mary of Modena reached the island of Nevis — that vast green mountain rising from the sea — and came to cast anchor in Charlestown Bay.
Mr Court, all a quivering eagerness to go ashore, was in the very act of ordering Jacob, the steward, to take up his portmantles, when Captain Blood sauntered into the cabin.
'That will be for tomorrow perhaps,' said he.
'Tomorrow?' Mr Court stared at him. 'But this is Nevis, isn't it?'
'To be sure. This is Nevis. But before we set you ashore there's the trifling matter of the price of your passage.'
'Oh! That!' Mr Court was contemptuous. 'Didn't I say you might make it what you please?'
'You did. And, faith, I may be taking you at your word.'
Mr Court did not like the Captain's smile. He interpreted it in his own fashion.
'If you mean to be — ah — extortionate…'
'Och, not extortionate at all. Most reasonable, to be sure. Sit down, sir, whilst I explain.'
'Explain? Explain what?'
'Sit down, sir.' Blood's tone and manner were compelling. Bewildered, Mr Court sat down.
'It's this way,' said Captain Blood, and sat down also, on the stern locker, with his back to the open window, the sunshine, the glittering sea and the hawkers' boats that with fruit and vegetables and fowls came crowding about the ship. 'It's this way: For the moment I'll trouble you to be considering yourself, in a manner of speaking, a hostage, Mr Court. A hostage for a very good friend of mine, who at this moment is a slave in the hands of your cousin, Sir James. You've told us how highly Sir James esteems and loves you; so there's no cause for uneasiness at all. In short, sir: my friend's freedom is the price I'll be asking Sir James for your passage. That's all.'
'All?' There was fury in Mr Court's tone, in his prominent eyes. 'This is an outrage!'
'I'll not be depriving you of the comfort of calling it that.'
Mr Court set an obvious restraint upon his feelings. 'And supposing that Sir James should refuse?'
'Och, why will you be vexing your soul by supposing anything so unpleasant? The one certain thing at present is that if Sir James consents you'll be landed at once on Nevis.'
'I am asking you, sir, what will happen if he doesn't.'
Captain Blood smiled amiably. 'I'm an orderly man, and so I like to take one thing at a time. Speculation's mostly a waste of thought. We'll leave that until it happens, for the excellent reason that it may never happen at all.'
Mr Court came to his feet in exasperation.
'But this … this is monstrous. Od rot me, sir, you'll do me this violence at your peril.'
'I am Captain Blood,' he was answered, 'so you'll not be supposing that a little peril more or less will daunt me.'
The announcement released some fresh emotions in Mr Court. His eyes threatened to drop from his flushed, angry face.
'You are Captain Blood! Captain Blood! That damned pirate! You may be but, may I perish, I care nothing who you are…'
'Why should you now? All I'm asking of you is that you'll step into your cabin. Of course I shall have to place a guard at the door, but there'll be no other restraints, and your comforts shall not suffer.'
'Do you suppose I'll submit to this?'
'I can put you in irons if you prefer it,' said Captain Blood suavely.
Mr Court, having furiously considered him, decided that he would not prefer it.
Captain Blood was rowed ashore, and took his way to the Deputy–Governor's house on the water–front: a fine white house with green slatted sun–blinds set back in a fair garden where azaleas flamed and all was fragrance of orange and pimento.
He found access to Sir James an easy matter. To a person of his obvious distinction, in his becoming coat of dark–blue camlett, his plumed hat and his long sword slung from a gold–embroidered baldrick, colonial doors were readily opened. He announced himself as Captain Peter, which was scarcely false, and he left it to be supposed that his rank was naval and to be understood that the ship in which he now sailed was his own property. His business in Nevis, the most important slave–market of the West Indies, he declared to be the acquisition of a lad of whom he might make a cabin boy. He had been informed that Sir James, himself, did a little slave–dealing, but even if this information were not correct, he had the presumption to hope that he might deserve Sir James' assistance in his quest.
His person was so elegantly engaging, his manner, perfectly blending deference with dignity, so winning, that Sir James professed himself entirely at Captain Peter's service. Just now there were no slaves available, but at any moment a cargo of blacks from the Coast of Guinea should be arriving, and if Captain Pet
er were not pressed for a day or two there was no doubt that his need would be supplied. Meanwhile, of course, Captain Peter would stay to dine.
And to dine Captain Peter stayed, meeting Lady Court, whom he impressed so favourably that before dinner was over the invitation extended by her husband had been materially enlarged by her.
Meanwhile, considering the ostensible object of Captain Peter's visit to Nevis, it was natural that the conversation should turn to slaves, and to a comparison of the service to be obtained from them with that afforded by European servants. Sir James, by opining that the white man was so superior as to render any comparison ridiculous, opened the way for the Captain's searching probe.
'And yet all the white men out here as a result of the Monmouth rebellion are being wasted in the plantations. It is odd that no one should ever have thought of employing any of them in some other capacity.'
'They are fit for nothing else,' said her ladyship. 'You can't make ordinary servants of such mutinous material. I know because I tried.'
'Ah! Your ladyship tried. Now that is interesting. But you'll not be telling me that the wretches you so rescued from the plantations were so indifferent to this good fortune as not to give good service?'
Sir James interposed. 'My wife's experience is more limited than her assertion might lead you to suppose. She judges from a single trial.'
She acknowledged the hostile criticism by a disdainful glance, and the Captain came gallantly to her support.
'Ab uno omnes, you know, Sir James. That is often true.' He turned to the lady, who met him smiling. 'What was this single trial? What manner of man was it who proved so lacking in grace?'
'One of those rebels–convict shipped to the plantations. We found him in Barbados, and I bought him to make a groom of him. But he was so little grateful, so little sensible of that betterment of his fortunes that in the end I sent him back to work at sugar–cane.'
The Captain's grave nod approved her. 'Faith, he was rightly served. And what became of him?'
'Just that. He's repenting his bad manners on Sir James' plantation here. A surly, mutinous dog.'
Again Sir James spoke, sadly: 'The poor wretch was a gentleman once, like so many of his misguided fellow–rebels. It was a poor mercy not to have hanged them.'
On that he changed the subject, and Captain Blood having obtained the information that he sought was content to allow him to do so.
But whatever the matter of which they talked, the lady's rare young beauty, combined with a sweet, ingenuous charm of manner, which seemed to bring a twist to the lip of Sir James as he watched her, commanded from their visitor the attentive regard which no man of any gallantry could have withheld. She rewarded him by insisting that whilst he waited in Charlestown he should take up his quarters in their house. She would admit of no refusal. She vowed that all the favour would be of the Captain's bestowing. Too rarely did a distinguished visitor from across the ocean come to relieve the monotony of their life on Nevis.
As a further inducement, she enlarged upon the beauties of this island. She must be the Captain's guide to its scented groves, its luxuriant plantations, its crystal streams, so that he should realize what an earthly Paradise was this which her husband had so often heard her denounce a desolate Hell.
Sir James, without illusions, covering his contempt of her light arts with a mask of grave urbanity, confirmed her invitation, whereupon she announced that she would give orders at once to have a room prepared and the Captain must send aboard for what he needed.
Captain Blood accepted this hospitality in graceful terms and without reluctance. Whilst so much may not have been absolutely necessary for the accomplishment of his purpose in Nevis, yet there could be no doubt that residence in the household of Sir James Court might very materially assist him.
V
We have heard Captain Blood expressing his faith in Fortune, or Chance, as he named it to Hagthorpe. Nevertheless, he did not carry his faith to the lengths of sitting still for Fortune to come seeking him. Chances, he knew, were to be created, or at least attracted, by intelligence and diligence, and betimes on the following morning he was afoot and booted, so as to lose no time in his quest. He knew, from the information gathered yesterday, in what direction it should be pursued, and soon after sunrise he was making his way to Sir James' stables to procure the necessary means.
There could be nothing odd in that a guest of early–rising habits should choose to go for a gallop before breakfast, or that for the purpose he should borrow a mount from his host. The fact that he should elect in his ride to go by way of Sir James' plantation could hardly suggest an interest in one of the slaves at work in it.
So far, then, he could depend upon himself. Beyond that — for sight and perhaps speech of the slave he sought — he put his faith again in Fortune.
At the outset it looked as if Fortune that morning were in no kindly mood. For early though the hour, Lady Court, be it because of matutinal habits, because meticulous in her duty as a hostess, or because of an unconquerable and troublesome susceptibility to such attractiveness in the male as her guest displayed, came fresh and sprightly to take him by surprise in the stables, and to call for a horse so that she might ride with him. It was vexatious, but it did not put him out of countenance. When she joyously announced that she would show him the cascades, he secretly cursed her sprightliness. Very politely he demurred on the ground that his first interest was in the plantations.
She puckered her perfect nose in mock disdain of him. 'I vow, sir, you disappoint me. I conceived you more poetical, more romantical, a man to take joy in beauty, in the wild glories of nature.'
'Why, so I am, I hope. But I'm practical as well; and also something of a student. I can admire the orderliness of man's contriving, and inform myself upon it.'
This led to argument; a very pretty and equally silly battle of words, which Captain Blood, with a definite purpose in view, found monstrous tedious. It ended in a compromise. They rode out first to the cascades, in which she could not spur the Captain into more than languid interest, and then home to breakfast by way of the sugar–plantations, in which no interest could have been more disappointingly keen to her than his. For he wasted time there, and her ladyship was growing sharp–set.
So that he might view at leisure every detail, he proceeded at no more than a walking pace through the broad lanes between the walls of cane that were turning golden, past gangs of slaves, of whom a few were white, who were toiling at the irrigation trenches. From time to time the Captain would try the lady's patience by drawing rein, so that he might look about him more searchingly, and once he paused by an overseer, to question him, first on the subject of the cultivation itself, then on that of the slaves employed, their numbers and quality. He was informed that the white ones were transported convicts.
'Rebel knaves, I suppose,' said the Captain. 'Some of those psalm–singers who were out with the Duke of Monmouth.'
'Nay, sir. We've only one o' they; one as came from Barbados wi' a parcel o' thieves and cozeners. That gang's down yonder, at the end of this brake.'
They rode on and came to the group, a dozen or so half–naked unkempt men, some of them burnt so black by the sun that they looked like pale–coloured negroes, and more than one back a criss–cross of scars from the overseer's lash. It was amongst these that Captain Blood's questing eyes alighted on the man he sought in Nevis.
My lady, who could never long sustain a role of amiable docility, was beginning to manifest her loss of patience at these futilities. That loss was complete when her companion now drew rein yet again, and gave a courteous good morning to the burly overseer of these wretched toilers. Almost at once her annoyance found an outlet. A young man, conspicuous for his athletic frame and sun–bleached golden hair, stood leaning upon his hoe, staring up wide–eyed and open–mouthed at the Captain.
She urged her mare forward.
'Why do you stand idle, oaf? Will you never learn not to stare at your betters? Then h
ere's to improve your manners.'
Viciously her riding–switch cut across his naked shoulders. It was raised again, to repeat the stroke; but the slave, who had half swung round so as fully to face her, parried the blow on his left forearm as it descended, whilst his hand, simultaneously closing upon the switch, wrenched it from her with a jerk that almost pulled her from the saddle.
If the other toilers fell idle, to stare in awe, there was instant action from the watchful overseer. With an oath he sprang for the young slave, uncoiling the thong of his whip.
'Cut the flesh from his bones, Walter!' shrilled the lady.
Before this menace the goaded youth flung away the silver–mounted switch and swung his hoe aloft. His light eyes were blazing. 'Touch me with that whip and I'll beat your brains out.'
The big overseer checked. He knew reckless resolve when he saw it, and here it glared at him plainly. The slave, maddened by pain and injustice, was no more in case to count the cost of doing as he threatened than of having dared to employ the threat. The overseer attempted to dominate him by words and tone, so as to gain time until the frenzy should have passed.
'Put down that hoe, Hagthorpe. Put it down at once.'
But Hagthorpe laughed at him; and then my lady laughed too, on a note that was horrible in its evil, spiteful glee.
'Don't argue with the dog. Pistol him. You've my warrant for it, Walter. I'm witness to his mutiny. Pistol him, man.'
Thus insistently and imperatively ordered, the man carried a hand to the holster of his belt. But even as he drew the weapon, the Captain leaned over from the saddle, and the butt of his heavy riding–crop crashed upon the overseer's hand, sending the pistol flying. The fellow cried out in pain and amazement.
'Be easy now,' said Blood. 'I've saved your life, so I have. For it would have cost you no less if you had fired that pistol.'
'Captain Peter!' It was a cry of indignant, incredulous protest from Lady Court.
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