CHAPTER IX. THE REBELS-CONVICT
There were, when the purple gloom of the tropical night descended uponthe Caribbean, not more than ten men on guard aboard the Cinco Llagas,so confident--and with good reason--were the Spaniards of the completesubjection of the islanders. And when I say that there were ten men onguard, I state rather the purpose for which they were left aboard thanthe duty which they fulfilled. As a matter of fact, whilst the main bodyof the Spaniards feasted and rioted ashore, the Spanish gunner and hiscrew--who had so nobly done their duty and ensured the easy victory ofthe day--were feasting on the gun-deck upon the wine and the fresh meatsfetched out to them from shore. Above, two sentinels only kept vigil, atstem and stern. Nor were they as vigilant as they should have been, orelse they must have observed the two wherries that under cover of thedarkness came gliding from the wharf, with well-greased rowlocks, tobring up in silence under the great ship's quarter.
From the gallery aft still hung the ladder by which Don Diego haddescended to the boat that had taken him ashore. The sentry on guard inthe stern, coming presently round this gallery, was suddenly confrontedby the black shadow of a man standing before him at the head of theladder.
"Who's there?" he asked, but without alarm, supposing it one of hisfellows.
"It is I," softly answered Peter Blood in the fluent Castillan of whichhe was master.
"Is it you, Pedro?" The Spaniard came a step nearer.
"Peter is my name; but I doubt I'll not be the Peter you're expecting."
"How?" quoth the sentry, checking.
"This way," said Mr. Blood.
The wooden taffrail was a low one, and the Spaniard was taken completelyby surprise. Save for the splash he made as he struck the water,narrowly missing one of the crowded boats that waited under the counter,not a sound announced his misadventure. Armed as he was with corselet,cuissarts, and headpiece, he sank to trouble them no more.
"Whist!" hissed Mr. Blood to his waiting rebels-convict. "Come on, now,and without noise."
Within five minutes they had swarmed aboard, the entire twenty of themoverflowing from that narrow gallery and crouching on the quarter-deckitself. Lights showed ahead. Under the great lantern in the prow theysaw the black figure of the other sentry, pacing on the forecastle. Frombelow sounds reached them of the orgy on the gun-deck: a rich male voicewas singing an obscene ballad to which the others chanted in chorus:
"Y estos son los usos de Castilla y de Leon!"
"From what I've seen to-day I can well believe it," said Mr. Blood, andwhispered: "Forward--after me."
Crouching low, they glided, noiseless as shadows, to the quarter-deckrail, and thence slipped without sound down into the waist. Two thirdsof them were armed with muskets, some of which they had found in theoverseer's house, and others supplied from the secret hoard that Mr.Blood had so laboriously assembled against the day of escape. Theremainder were equipped with knives and cutlasses.
In the vessel's waist they hung awhile, until Mr. Blood had satisfiedhimself that no other sentinel showed above decks but that inconvenientfellow in the prow. Their first attention must be for him. Mr. Blood,himself, crept forward with two companions, leaving the others in thecharge of that Nathaniel Hagthorpe whose sometime commission in theKing's Navy gave him the best title to this office.
Mr. Blood's absence was brief. When he rejoined his comrades there wasno watch above the Spaniards' decks.
Meanwhile the revellers below continued to make merry at their easein the conviction of complete security. The garrison of Barbados wasoverpowered and disarmed, and their companions were ashore in completepossession of the town, glutting themselves hideously upon the fruitsof victory. What, then, was there to fear? Even when their quarters wereinvaded and they found themselves surrounded by a score of wild,hairy, half-naked men, who--save that they appeared once to have beenwhite--looked like a horde of savages, the Spaniards could not believetheir eyes.
Who could have dreamed that a handful of forgotten plantation-slaveswould have dared to take so much upon themselves?
The half-drunken Spaniards, their laughter suddenly quenched, the songperishing on their lips, stared, stricken and bewildered at the levelledmuskets by which they were checkmated.
And then, from out of this uncouth pack of savages that beset them,stepped a slim, tall fellow with light-blue eyes in a tawny face, eyesin which glinted the light of a wicked humour. He addressed them in thepurest Castilian.
"You will save yourselves pain and trouble by regarding yourselves myprisoners, and suffering yourselves to be quietly bestowed out of harm'sway."
"Name of God!" swore the gunner, which did no justice at all to anamazement beyond expression.
"If you please," said Mr. Blood, and thereupon those gentlemen of Spainwere induced without further trouble beyond a musket prod or two to dropthrough a scuttle to the deck below.
After that the rebels-convict refreshed themselves with the good thingsin the consumption of which they had interrupted the Spaniards. To tastepalatable Christian food after months of salt fish and maize dumplingswas in itself a feast to these unfortunates. But there were no excesses.Mr. Blood saw to that, although it required all the firmness of which hewas capable.
Dispositions were to be made without delay against that which mustfollow before they could abandon themselves fully to the enjoyment oftheir victory. This, after all, was no more than a preliminary skirmish,although it was one that afforded them the key to the situation. Itremained to dispose so that the utmost profit might be drawn from it.Those dispositions occupied some very considerable portion of thenight. But, at least, they were complete before the sun peeped overthe shoulder of Mount Hilibay to shed his light upon a day of somesurprises.
It was soon after sunrise that the rebel-convict who paced thequarter-deck in Spanish corselet and headpiece, a Spanish musket on hisshoulder, announced the approach of a boat. It was Don Diego de Espinosay Valdez coming aboard with four great treasure-chests, containing eachtwenty-five thousand pieces of eight, the ransom delivered to him atdawn by Governor Steed. He was accompanied by his son, Don Esteban, andby six men who took the oars.
Aboard the frigate all was quiet and orderly as it should be. Sherode at anchor, her larboard to the shore, and the main ladder on herstarboard side. Round to this came the boat with Don Diego and histreasure. Mr. Blood had disposed effectively. It was not for nothingthat he had served under de Ruyter. The swings were waiting, and thewindlass manned. Below, a gun-crew held itself in readiness under thecommand of Ogle, who--as I have said--had been a gunner in the RoyalNavy before he went in for politics and followed the fortunes ofthe Duke of Monmouth. He was a sturdy, resolute fellow who inspiredconfidence by the very confidence he displayed in himself.
Don Diego mounted the ladder and stepped upon the deck, alone, andentirely unsuspicious. What should the poor man suspect?
Before he could even look round, and survey this guard drawn up toreceive him, a tap over the head with a capstan bar efficiently handledby Hagthorpe put him to sleep without the least fuss.
He was carried away to his cabin, whilst the treasure-chests, handledby the men he had left in the boat, were being hauled to the deck. Thatbeing satisfactorily accomplished, Don Esteban and the fellows who hadmanned the boat came up the ladder, one by one, to be handled with thesame quiet efficiency. Peter Blood had a genius for these things, andalmost, I suspect, an eye for the dramatic. Dramatic, certainly, was thespectacle now offered to the survivors of the raid.
With Colonel Bishop at their head, and gout-ridden Governor Steedsitting on the ruins of a wall beside him, they glumly watched thedeparture of the eight boats containing the weary Spanish ruffians whohad glutted themselves with rapine, murder, and violences unspeakable.
They looked on, between relief at this departure of their remorselessenemies, and despair at the wild ravages which, temporarily at least,had wrecked the prosperity and happiness of that little colony.
The boats pulled away from the s
hore, with their loads of laughing,jeering Spaniards, who were still flinging taunts across the water attheir surviving victims. They had come midway between the wharf and theship, when suddenly the air was shaken by the boom of a gun.
A round shot struck the water within a fathom of the foremost boat,sending a shower of spray over its occupants. They paused at their oars,astounded into silence for a moment. Then speech burst from them likean explosion. Angrily voluble they anathematized this dangerouscarelessness on the part of their gunner, who should know better thanto fire a salute from a cannon loaded with shot. They were still cursinghim when a second shot, better aimed than the first, came to crumple oneof the boats into splinters, flinging its crew, dead and living, intothe water.
But if it silenced these, it gave tongue, still more angry, vehement,and bewildered to the crews of the other seven boats. From each thesuspended oars stood out poised over the water, whilst on their feet inthe excitement the Spaniards screamed oaths at the ship, begging Heavenand Hell to inform them what madman had been let loose among her guns.
Plump into their middle came a third shot, smashing a second boat withfearful execution. Followed again a moment of awful silence, then amongthose Spanish pirates all was gibbering and jabbering and splashing ofoars, as they attempted to pull in every direction at once. Some werefor going ashore, others for heading straight to the vessel and therediscovering what might be amiss. That something was very gravely amissthere could be no further doubt, particularly as whilst they discussedand fumed and cursed two more shots came over the water to account foryet a third of their boats.
The resolute Ogle was making excellent practice, and fully justifyinghis claims to know something of gunnery. In their consternation theSpaniards had simplified his task by huddling their boats together.
After the fourth shot, opinion was no longer divided amongst them. Aswith one accord they went about, or attempted to do so, for before theyhad accomplished it two more of their boats had been sunk.
The three boats that remained, without concerning themselves with theirmore unfortunate fellows, who were struggling in the water, headed backfor the wharf at speed.
If the Spaniards understood nothing of all this, the forlorn islandersashore understood still less, until to help their wits they saw the flagof Spain come down from the mainmast of the Cinco Llagas, and theflag of England soar to its empty place. Even then some bewildermentpersisted, and it was with fearful eyes that they observed the returnof their enemies, who might vent upon them the ferocity aroused by theseextraordinary events.
Ogle, however, continued to give proof that his knowledge of gunnery wasnot of yesterday. After the fleeing Spaniards went his shots. The lastof their boats flew into splinters as it touched the wharf, and itsremains were buried under a shower of loosened masonry.
That was the end of this pirate crew, which not ten minutes ago hadbeen laughingly counting up the pieces of eight that would fall tothe portion of each for his share in that act of villainy. Close uponthreescore survivors contrived to reach the shore. Whether they hadcause for congratulation, I am unable to say in the absence of anyrecords in which their fate may be traced. That lack of records is initself eloquent. We know that they were made fast as they landed, andconsidering the offence they had given I am not disposed to doubt thatthey had every reason to regret the survival.
The mystery of the succour that had come at the eleventh hour towreak vengeance upon the Spaniards, and to preserve for the island theextortionate ransom of a hundred thousand pieces of eight, remained yetto be probed. That the Cinco Llagas was now in friendly hands could nolonger be doubted after the proofs it had given. But who, the peopleof Bridgetown asked one another, were the men in possession of her, andwhence had they come? The only possible assumption ran the truth veryclosely. A resolute party of islanders must have got aboard duringthe night, and seized the ship. It remained to ascertain the preciseidentity of these mysterious saviours, and do them fitting honour.
Upon this errand--Governor Steed's condition not permitting him to goin person--went Colonel Bishop as the Governor's deputy, attended by twoofficers.
As he stepped from the ladder into the vessel's waist, the Colonelbeheld there, beside the main hatch, the four treasure-chests, thecontents of one of which had been contributed almost entirely byhimself. It was a gladsome spectacle, and his eyes sparkled in beholdingit.
Ranged on either side, athwart the deck, stood a score of men in twowell-ordered files, with breasts and backs of steel, polished Spanishmorions on their heads, overshadowing their faces, and muskets orderedat their sides.
Colonel Bishop could not be expected to recognize at a glance in theseupright, furbished, soldierly figures the ragged, unkempt scarecrowsthat but yesterday had been toiling in his plantations. Still less couldhe be expected to recognize at once the courtly gentleman who advancedto greet him--a lean, graceful gentleman, dressed in the Spanishfashion, all in black with silver lace, a gold-hilted sword danglingbeside him from a gold embroidered baldrick, a broad castor with asweeping plume set above carefully curled ringlets of deepest black.
"Be welcome aboard the Cinco Llagas, Colonel, darling," a voice vaguelyfamiliar addressed the planter. "We've made the best of the Spaniards'wardrobe in honour of this visit, though it was scarcely yourself we haddared hope to expect. You find yourself among friends--old friends ofyours, all." The Colonel stared in stupefaction. Mr. Blood tricked outin all this splendour--indulging therein his natural taste--his facecarefully shaven, his hair as carefully dressed, seemed transformed intoa younger man. The fact is he looked no more than the thirty-three yearshe counted to his age.
"Peter Blood!" It was an ejaculation of amazement. Satisfaction followedswiftly. "Was it you, then...?"
"Myself it was--myself and these, my good friends and yours." Mr. Bloodtossed back the fine lace from his wrist, to wave a hand towards thefile of men standing to attention there.
The Colonel looked more closely. "Gad's my life!" he crowed on a noteof foolish jubilation. "And it was with these fellows that you tookthe Spaniard and turned the tables on those dogs! Oddswounds! It washeroic!"
"Heroic, is it? Bedad, it's epic! Ye begin to perceive the breadth anddepth of my genius."
Colonel Bishop sat himself down on the hatch-coaming, took off his broadhat, and mopped his brow.
"Y'amaze me!" he gasped. "On my soul, y'amaze me! To have recovered thetreasure and to have seized this fine ship and all she'll hold! It willbe something to set against the other losses we have suffered. As Gad'smy life, you deserve well for this."
"I am entirely of your opinion."
"Damme! You all deserve well, and damme, you shall find me grateful."
"That's as it should be," said Mr. Blood. "The question is how well wedeserve, and how grateful shall we find you?"
Colonel Bishop considered him. There was a shadow of surprise in hisface.
"Why--his excellency shall write home an account of your exploit, andmaybe some portion of your sentences shall be remitted."
"The generosity of King James is well known," sneered NathanielHagthorpe, who was standing by, and amongst the ranged rebels-convictsome one ventured to laugh.
Colonel Bishop started up. He was pervaded by the first pang ofuneasiness. It occurred to him that all here might not be as friendly asappeared.
"And there's another matter," Mr. Blood resumed. "There's a matter ofa flogging that's due to me. Ye're a man of your word in such matters,Colonel--if not perhaps in others--and ye said, I think, that ye'd notleave a square inch of skin on my back."
The planter waved the matter aside. Almost it seemed to offend him.
"Tush! Tush! After this splendid deed of yours, do you suppose I can bethinking of such things?"
"I'm glad ye feel like that about it. But I'm thinking it's mighty luckyfor me the Spaniards didn't come to-day instead of yesterday, or it'sin the same plight as Jeremy Pitt I'd be this minute. And in that casewhere was the genius that would have turned t
he tables on these rascallySpaniards?"
"Why speak of it now?"
Mr. Blood resumed: "ye'll please to understand that I must, Colonel,darling. Ye've worked a deal of wickedness and cruelty in your time, andI want this to be a lesson to you, a lesson that ye'll remember--forthe sake of others who may come after us. There's Jeremy up there in theround-house with a back that's every colour of the rainbow; and the poorlad'll not be himself again for a month. And if it hadn't been for theSpaniards maybe it's dead he'd be by now, and maybe myself with him."
Hagthorpe lounged forward. He was a fairly tall, vigorous man with aclear-cut, attractive face which in itself announced his breeding.
"Why will you be wasting words on the hog?" wondered that sometimeofficer in the Royal Navy. "Fling him overboard and have done with him."
The Colonel's eyes bulged in his head. "What the devil do you mean?" heblustered.
"It's the lucky man ye are entirely, Colonel, though ye don't guess thesource of your good fortune."
And now another intervened--the brawny, one-eyed Wolverstone, lessmercifully disposed than his more gentlemanly fellow-convict.
"String him up from the yardarm," he cried, his deep voice harsh andangry, and more than one of the slaves standing to their arms made echo.
Colonel Bishop trembled. Mr. Blood turned. He was quite calm.
"If you please, Wolverstone," said he, "I conduct affairs in my own way.That is the pact. You'll please to remember it." His eyes looked alongthe ranks, making it plain that he addressed them all. "I desire thatColonel Bishop should have his life. One reason is that I require him asa hostage. If ye insist on hanging him, ye'll have to hang me with him,or in the alternative I'll go ashore."
He paused. There was no answer. But they stood hang-dog andhalf-mutinous before him, save Hagthorpe, who shrugged and smiledwearily.
Mr. Blood resumed: "Ye'll please to understand that aboard a ship thereis one captain. So." He swung again to the startled Colonel. "ThoughI promise you your life, I must--as you've heard--keep you aboard as ahostage for the good behaviour of Governor Steed and what's left of thefort until we put to sea."
"Until you..." Horror prevented Colonel Bishop from echoing theremainder of that incredible speech.
"Just so," said Peter Blood, and he turned to the officers who hadaccompanied the Colonel. "The boat is waiting, gentlemen. You'll haveheard what I said. Convey it with my compliments to his excellency."
"But, sir..." one of them began.
"There is no more to be said, gentlemen. My name is Blood--CaptainBlood, if you please, of this ship the Cinco Llagas, taken as a prize ofwar from Don Diego de Espinosa y Valdez, who is my prisoner aboard.You are to understand that I have turned the tables on more than theSpaniards. There's the ladder. You'll find it more convenient than beingheaved over the side, which is what'll happen if you linger."
They went, though not without some hustling, regardless of thebellowings of Colonel Bishop, whose monstrous rage was fanned by terrorat finding himself at the mercy of these men of whose cause to hate himhe was very fully conscious.
A half-dozen of them, apart from Jeremy Pitt, who was utterlyincapacitated for the present, possessed a superficial knowledgeof seamanship. Hagthorpe, although he had been a fighting officer,untrained in navigation, knew how to handle a ship, and under hisdirections they set about getting under way.
The anchor catted, and the mainsail unfurled, they stood out for theopen before a gentle breeze, without interference from the fort.
As they were running close to the headland east of the bay, PeterBlood returned to the Colonel, who, under guard and panic-stricken, haddejectedly resumed his seat on the coamings of the main batch.
"Can ye swim, Colonel?"
Colonel Bishop looked up. His great face was yellow and seemed in thatmoment of a preternatural flabbiness; his beady eyes were beadier thanever.
"As your doctor, now, I prescribe a swim to cool the excessive heatof your humours." Blood delivered the explanation pleasantly, and,receiving still no answer from the Colonel, continued: "It's a mercy foryou I'm not by nature as bloodthirsty as some of my friends here. Andit's the devil's own labour I've had to prevail upon them not to bevindictive. I doubt if ye're worth the pains I've taken for you."
He was lying. He had no doubt at all. Had he followed his own wishes andinstincts, he would certainly have strung the Colonel up, and accountedit a meritorious deed. It was the thought of Arabella Bishop that hadurged him to mercy, and had led him to oppose the natural vindictivenessof his fellow-slaves until he had been in danger of precipitating amutiny. It was entirely to the fact that the Colonel was her uncle,although he did not even begin to suspect such a cause, that he owedsuch mercy as was now being shown him.
"You shall have a chance to swim for it," Peter Blood continued. "It'snot above a quarter of a mile to the headland yonder, and with ordinaryluck ye should manage it. Faith, you're fat enough to float. Come on!Now, don't be hesitating or it's a long voyage ye'll be going with us,and the devil knows what may happen to you. You're not loved any morethan you deserve."
Colonel Bishop mastered himself, and rose. A merciless despot, who hadnever known the need for restraint in all these years, he was doomed byironic fate to practise restraint in the very moment when his feelingshad reached their most violent intensity.
Peter Blood gave an order. A plank was run out over the gunwale, andlashed down.
"If you please, Colonel," said he, with a graceful flourish ofinvitation.
The Colonel looked at him, and there was hell in his glance. Then,taking his resolve, and putting the best face upon it, since no othercould help him here, he kicked off his shoes, peeled off his fine coatof biscuit-coloured taffetas, and climbed upon the plank.
A moment he paused, steadied by a hand that clutched the ratlines,looking down in terror at the green water rushing past somefive-and-twenty feet below.
"Just take a little walk, Colonel, darling," said a smooth, mockingvoice behind him.
Still clinging, Colonel Bishop looked round in hesitation, and saw thebulwarks lined with swarthy faces--the faces of men that as lately asyesterday would have turned pale under his frown, faces that were nowall wickedly agrin.
For a moment rage stamped out his fear. He cursed them aloud venomouslyand incoherently, then loosed his hold and stepped out upon the plank.Three steps he took before he lost his balance and went tumbling intothe green depths below.
When he came to the surface again, gasping for air, the Cinco Llagaswas already some furlongs to leeward. But the roaring cheer of mockingvalediction from the rebels-convict reached him across the water, todrive the iron of impotent rage deeper into his soul.
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