Читать книгу The Captain Blood Trilogy - Рафаэль Сабатини - Страница 19

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In the glory of the following morning, sparkling and clear after the storm, with an invigorating, briny tang in the air from the salt-ponds on the south of the island, a curious scene was played on the beach of the Virgen Magra, at the foot of a ridge of bleached dunes, beside the spread of sail from which Levasseur had improvised a tent.

Enthroned upon an empty cask sat the French filibuster to transact important business: the business of making himself safe with the Governor of Tortuga.

A guard of honour of a half-dozen officers hung about him; five of them were rude boucan-hunters, in stained jerkins and leather breeches; the sixth was Cahusac. Before him, guarded by two half-naked negroes, stood young d’Ogeron, in frilled shirt and satin small-clothes and fine shoes of Cordovan leather. He was stripped of doublet, and his hands were tied behind him. The young gentleman’s comely face was haggard. Near at hand, and also under guard, but unpinioned, mademoiselle his sister sat hunched upon a hillock of sand. She was very pale, and it was in vain that she sought to veil in a mask of arrogance the fears by which she was assailed.

Levasseur addressed himself to M. d’Ogeron. He spoke at long length. In the end—

“I trust, monsieur,” said he, with mock suavity, “that I have made myself quite clear. So that there may be no misunderstandings, I will recapitulate. Your ransom is fixed at twenty thousand pieces of eight, and you shall have liberty on parole to go to Tortuga to collect it. In fact, I shall provide the means to convey you thither, and you shall have a month in which to come and go. Meanwhile, your sister remains with me as a hostage. Your father should not consider such a sum excessive as the price of his son’s liberty and to provide a dowry for his daughter. Indeed, if anything, I am too modest, pardi! M. d’Ogeron is reputed a wealthy man.”

M. d’Ogeron the younger raised his head and looked the Captain boldly in the face.

“I refuse—utterly and absolutely, do you understand? So do your worst, and be damned for a filthy pirate without decency and without honour.”

“But what words!” laughed Levasseur. “What heat and what foolishness! You have not considered the alternative. When you do, you will not persist in your refusal. You will not do that in any case. We have spurs for the reluctant. And I warn you against giving me your parole under stress, and afterwards playing me false. I shall know how to find and punish you. Meanwhile, remember your sister’s honour is in pawn to me. Should you forget to return with the dowry, you will not consider it unreasonable that I forget to marry her.”

Levasseur’s smiling eyes, intent upon the young man’s face, saw the horror that crept into his glance. M. d’Ogeron cast a wild glance at mademoiselle, and observed the grey despair that had almost stamped the beauty from her face. Disgust and fury swept across his countenance.

Then he braced himself and answered resolutely:

“No, you dog! A thousand times, no!”

“You are foolish to persist.” Levasseur spoke without anger, with a coldly mocking regret. His fingers had been busy tying knots in a length of whipcord. He held it up. “You know this? It is a rosary of pain that has wrought the conversion of many a stubborn heretic. It is capable of screwing the eyes out of a man’s head by way of helping him to see reason. As you please.”

He flung the length of knotted cord to one of the negroes, who in an instant made it fast about the prisoner’s brows. Then between cord and cranium the black inserted a short length of metal, round and slender as a pipe-stem. That done he rolled his eyes towards Levasseur, awaiting the Captain’s signal.

Levasseur considered his victim, and beheld him tense and braced, his haggard face of a leaden hue, beads of perspiration glinting on his pallid brow just beneath the whipcord.

Mademoiselle cried out, and would have risen: but her guards restrained her, and she sank down again, moaning.

“I beg that you will spare yourself and your sister,” said the Captain, “by being reasonable. What, after all, is the sum I have named? To your wealthy father a bagatelle. I repeat, I have been too modest. But since I have said twenty thousand pieces of eight, twenty thousand pieces it shall be.”

“And for what, if you please, have you said twenty thousand pieces of eight?”

In execrable French, but in a voice that was crisp and pleasant, seeming to echo some of the mockery that had invested Levasseur’s, that question floated over their heads.

Startled, Levasseur and his officers looked up and round. On the crest of the dunes behind them, in sharp silhouette against the deep cobalt of the sky, they beheld a tall, lean figure scrupulously dressed in black with silver lace, a crimson ostrich plume curled about the broad brim of his hat affording the only touch of colour. Under that hat was the tawny face of Captain Blood.

Levasseur gathered himself up with an oath of amazement. He had conceived Captain Blood by now well below the horizon, on his way to Tortuga, assuming him to have been so fortunate as to have weathered last night’s storm.

Launching himself upon the yielding sand, into which he sank to the level of the calves of his fine boots of Spanish leather, Captain Blood came sliding erect to the beach. He was followed by Wolverstone, and a dozen others. As he came to a standstill, he doffed his hat, with a flourish, to the lady. Then he turned to Levasseur.

“Good-morning, my Captain,” said he, and proceeded to explain his presence. “It was last night’s hurricane compelled our return. We had no choice but to ride before it with stripped poles, and it drove us back the way we had gone. Moreover—as the devil would have it!—the Santiago sprang her mainmast; and so I was glad to put into a cove on the west of the island a couple of miles away, and we’ve walked across to stretch our legs, and to give you good-day. But who are these?” And he designated the man and the woman.

Cahusac shrugged his shoulders, and tossed his long arms to heaven.

“Voila!” said he, pregnantly, to the firmament.

Levasseur gnawed his lip, and changed colour. But he controlled himself to answer civilly:

“As you see, two prisoners.”

“Ah! Washed ashore in last night’s gale, eh?”

“Not so.” Levasseur contained himself with difficulty before that irony. “They were in the Dutch brig.”

“I don’t remember that you mentioned them before.”

“I did not. They are prisoners of my own—a personal matter. They are French.”

“French!” Captain Blood’s light eyes stabbed at Levasseur, then at the prisoners.

M. d’Ogeron stood tense and braced as before, but the grey horror had left his face. Hope had leapt within him at this interruption, obviously as little expected by his tormentor as by himself. His sister, moved by a similar intuition, was leaning forward with parted lips and gaping eyes.

Captain Blood fingered his lip, and frowned thoughtfully upon Levasseur.

“Yesterday you surprised me by making war upon the friendly Dutch. But now it seems that not even your own countrymen are safe from you.”

“Have I not said that these... that this is a matter personal to me?”

“Ah! And their names?”

Captain Blood’s crisp, authoritative, faintly disdainful manner stirred Levasseur’s quick anger. The blood crept slowly back into his blenched face, and his glance grew in insolence, almost in menace. Meanwhile the prisoner answered for him.

“I am Henri d’Ogeron, and this is my sister.”

“D’Ogeron?” Captain Blood stared. “Are you related by chance to my good friend the Governor of Tortuga?”

“He is my father.”

Levasseur swung aside with an imprecation. In Captain Blood, amazement for the moment quenched every other emotion.

“The saints preserve us now! Are you quite mad, Levasseur? First you molest the Dutch, who are our friends; next you take prisoners two persons that are French, your own countrymen; and now, faith, they’re no less than the children of the Governor of Tortuga, which is the one safe place of shelter that we enjoy in these islands....”

Levasseur broke in angrily:

“Must I tell you again that it is a matter personal to me? I make myself alone responsible to the Governor of Tortuga.”

“And the twenty thousand pieces of eight? Is that also a matter personal to you?”

“It is.”

“Now I don’t agree with you at all.” Captain Blood sat down on the cask that Levasseur had lately occupied, and looked up blandly. “I may inform you, to save time, that I heard the entire proposal that you made to this lady and this gentleman, and I’ll also remind you that we sail under articles that admit no ambiguities. You have fixed their ransom at twenty thousand pieces of eight. That sum then belongs to your crews and mine in the proportions by the articles established. You’ll hardly wish to dispute it. But what is far more grave is that you have concealed from me this part of the prizes taken on your last cruise, and for such an offence as that the articles provide certain penalties that are something severe in character.”

“Ho, ho!” laughed Levasseur unpleasantly. Then added: “If you dislike my conduct we can dissolve the association.”

“That is my intention. But we’ll dissolve it when and in the manner that I choose, and that will be as soon as you have satisfied the articles under which we sailed upon this cruise.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ll be as short as I can,” said Captain Blood. “I’ll waive for the moment the unseemliness of making war upon the Dutch, of taking French prisoners, and of provoking the anger of the Governor of Tortuga. I’ll accept the situation as I find it. Yourself you’ve fixed the ransom of this couple at twenty thousand pieces, and, as I gather, the lady is to be your perquisite. But why should she be your perquisite more than another’s, seeing that she belongs by the articles to all of us, as a prize of war?”

Black as thunder grew the brow of Levasseur.

“However,” added Captain Blood, “I’ll not dispute her to you if you are prepared to buy her.”

“Buy her?”

“At the price you have set upon her.”

Levasseur contained his rage, that he might reason with the Irishman. “That is the ransom of the man. It is to be paid for him by the Governor of Tortuga.”

“No, no. Ye’ve parcelled the twain together—very oddly, I confess. Ye’ve set their value at twenty thousand pieces, and for that sum you may have them, since you desire it; but you’ll pay for them the twenty thousand pieces that are ultimately to come to you as the ransom of one and the dowry of the other; and that sum shall be divided among our crews. So that you do that, it is conceivable that our followers may take a lenient view of your breach of the articles we jointly signed.”

Levasseur laughed savagely. “Ah ca! Credieu! The good jest!”

“I quite agree with you,” said Captain Blood.

To Levasseur the jest lay in that Captain Blood, with no more than a dozen followers, should come there attempting to hector him who had a hundred men within easy call. But it seemed that he had left out of his reckoning something which his opponent had counted in. For as, laughing still, Levasseur swung to his officers, he saw that which choked the laughter in his throat. Captain Blood had shrewdly played upon the cupidity that was the paramount inspiration of those adventurers. And Levasseur now read clearly on their faces how completely they adopted Captain Blood’s suggestion that all must participate in the ransom which their leader had thought to appropriate to himself.

It gave the gaudy ruffian pause, and whilst in his heart he cursed those followers of his, who could be faithful only to their greed, he perceived—and only just in time—that he had best tread warily.

“You misunderstand,” he said, swallowing his rage. “The ransom is for division, when it comes. The girl, meanwhile, is mine on that understanding.”

“Good!” grunted Cahusac. “On that understanding all arranges itself.”

“You think so?” said Captain Blood. “But if M. d’Ogeron should refuse to pay the ransom? What then?” He laughed, and got lazily to his feet. “No, no. If Captain Levasseur is meanwhile to keep the girl, as he proposes, then let him pay this ransom, and be his the risk if it should afterwards not be forthcoming.”

“That’s it!” cried one of Levasseur’s officers. And Cahusac added: “It’s reasonable, that! Captain Blood is right. It is in the articles.”

“What is in the articles, you fools?” Levasseur was in danger of losing his head. “Sacre Dieu! Where do you suppose that I have twenty thousand pieces? My whole share of the prizes of this cruise does not come to half that sum. I’ll be your debtor until I’ve earned it. Will that content you?”

All things considered, there is not a doubt that it would have done so had not Captain Blood intended otherwise.

“And if you should die before you have earned it? Ours is a calling fraught with risks, my Captain.”

“Damn you!” Levasseur flung upon him livid with fury. “Will nothing satisfy you?”

“Oh, but yes. Twenty thousand pieces of eight for immediate division.”

“I haven’t got it.”

“Then let some one buy the prisoners who has.”

“And who do you suppose has it if I have not?”

“I have,” said Captain Blood.

“You have!” Levasseur’s mouth fell open. “You... you want the girl?”

“Why not? And I exceed you in gallantry in that I will make sacrifices to obtain her, and in honesty in that I am ready to pay for what I want.”

Levasseur stared at him foolishly agape. Behind him pressed his officers, gaping also.

Captain Blood sat down again on the cask, and drew from an inner pocket of his doublet a little leather bag. “I am glad to be able to resolve a difficulty that at one moment seemed insoluble.” And under the bulging eyes of Levasseur and his officers, he untied the mouth of the bag and rolled into his left palm four or five pearls each of the size of a sparrow’s egg. There were twenty such in the bag, the very pick of those taken in that raid upon the pearl fleet. “You boast a knowledge of pearls, Cahusac. At what do you value this?”

The Breton took between coarse finger and thumb the proffered lustrous, delicately iridescent sphere, his shrewd eyes appraising it.

“A thousand pieces,” he answered shortly.

“It will fetch rather more in Tortuga or Jamaica,” said Captain Blood, “and twice as much in Europe. But I’ll accept your valuation. They are almost of a size, as you can see. Here are twelve, representing twelve thousand pieces of eight, which is La Foudre’s share of three fifths of the prize, as provided by the articles. For the eight thousand pieces that go to the Arabella, I make myself responsible to my own men. And now, Wolverstone, if you please, will you take my property aboard the Arabella?” He stood up again, indicating the prisoners.

“Ah, no!” Levasseur threw wide the floodgates of his fury. “Ah, that, no, by example! You shall not take her....” He would have sprung upon Captain Blood, who stood aloof, alert, tight-lipped, and watchful.

But it was one of Levasseur’s own officers who hindered him.

“Nom de Dieu, my Captain! What will you do? It is settled; honourably settled with satisfaction to all.”

“To all?” blazed Levasseur. “Ah ca! To all of you, you animals! But what of me?”

Cahusac, with the pearls clutched in his capacious hand, stepped up to him on the other side. “Don’t be a fool, Captain. Do you want to provoke trouble between the crews? His men outnumber us by nearly two to one. What’s a girl more or less? In Heaven’s name, let her go. He’s paid handsomely for her, and dealt fairly with us.”

“Dealt fairly?” roared the infuriated Captain. “You....” In all his foul vocabulary he could find no epithet to describe his lieutenant. He caught him a blow that almost sent him sprawling. The pearls were scattered in the sand.

Cahusac dived after them, his fellows with him. Vengeance must wait. For some moments they groped there on hands and knees, oblivious of all else. And yet in those moments vital things were happening.

Levasseur, his hand on his sword, his face a white mask of rage, was confronting Captain Blood to hinder his departure.

“You do not take her while I live!” he cried.

“Then I’ll take her when you’re dead,” said Captain Blood, and his own blade flashed in the sunlight. “The articles provide that any man of whatever rank concealing any part of a prize, be it of the value of no more than a peso, shall be hanged at the yardarm. It’s what I intended for you in the end. But since ye prefer it this way, ye muckrake, faith, I’ll be humouring you.”

He waved away the men who would have interfered, and the blades rang together.

M. d’Ogeron looked on, a man bemused, unable to surmise what the issue either way could mean for him. Meanwhile, two of Blood’s men who had taken the place of the Frenchman’s negro guards, had removed the crown of whipcord from his brow. As for mademoiselle, she had risen, and was leaning forward, a hand pressed tightly to her heaving breast, her face deathly pale, a wild terror in her eyes.

It was soon over. The brute strength, upon which Levasseur so confidently counted, could avail nothing against the Irishman’s practised skill. When, with both lungs transfixed, he lay prone on the white sand, coughing out his rascally life, Captain Blood looked calmly at Cahusac across the body.

“I think that cancels the articles between us,” he said. With soulless, cynical eyes Cahusac considered the twitching body of his recent leader. Had Levasseur been a man of different temper, the affair might have ended in a very different manner. But, then, it is certain that Captain Blood would have adopted in dealing with him different tactics. As it was, Levasseur commanded neither love nor loyalty. The men who followed him were the very dregs of that vile trade, and cupidity was their only inspiration. Upon that cupidity Captain Blood had deftly played, until he had brought them to find Levasseur guilty of the one offence they deemed unpardonable, the crime of appropriating to himself something which might be converted into gold and shared amongst them all.

Thus now the threatening mob of buccaneers that came hastening to the theatre of that swift tragi-comedy were appeased by a dozen words of Cahusac’s.

Whilst still they hesitated, Blood added something to quicken their decision.

“If you will come to our anchorage, you shall receive at once your share of the booty of the Santiago, that you may dispose of it as you please.”

They crossed the island, the two prisoners accompanying them, and later that day, the division made, they would have parted company but that Cahusac, at the instances of the men who had elected him Levasseur’s successor, offered Captain Blood anew the services of that French contingent.

“If you will sail with me again,” the Captain answered him, “you may do so on the condition that you make your peace with the Dutch, and restore the brig and her cargo.”

The condition was accepted, and Captain Blood went off to find his guests, the children of the Governor of Tortuga.

Mademoiselle d’Ogeron and her brother—the latter now relieved of his bonds—sat in the great cabin of the Arabella, whither they had been conducted.

Wine and food had been placed upon the table by Benjamin, Captain Blood’s negro steward and cook, who had intimated to them that it was for their entertainment. But it had remained untouched. Brother and sister sat there in agonized bewilderment, conceiving that their escape was but from frying-pan to fire. At length, overwrought by the suspense, mademoiselle flung herself upon her knees before her brother to implore his pardon for all the evil brought upon them by her wicked folly.

M. d’Ogeron was not in a forgiving mood.

“I am glad that at least you realize what you have done. And now this other filibuster has bought you, and you belong to him. You realize that, too, I hope.”

He might have said more, but he checked upon perceiving that the door was opening. Captain Blood, coming from settling matters with the followers of Levasseur, stood on the threshold. M. d’Ogeron had not troubled to restrain his high-pitched voice, and the Captain had overheard the Frenchman’s last two sentences. Therefore he perfectly understood why mademoiselle should bound up at sight of him, and shrink back in fear.

“Mademoiselle,” said he in his vile but fluent French, “I beg you to dismiss your fears. Aboard this ship you shall be treated with all honour. So soon as we are in case to put to sea again, we steer a course for Tortuga to take you home to your father. And pray do not consider that I have bought you, as your brother has just said. All that I have done has been to provide the ransom necessary to bribe a gang of scoundrels to depart from obedience to the arch-scoundrel who commanded them, and so deliver you from all peril. Count it, if you please, a friendly loan to be repaid entirely at your convenience.”

Mademoiselle stared at him in unbelief. M. d’Ogeron rose to his feet.

“Monsieur, is it possible that you are serious?”

“I am. It may not happen often nowadays. I may be a pirate. But my ways are not the ways of Levasseur, who should have stayed in Europe, and practised purse-cutting. I have a sort of honour—shall we say, some rags of honour?—remaining me from better days.” Then on a brisker note he added: “We dine in an hour, and I trust that you will honour my table with your company. Meanwhile, Benjamin will see, monsieur, that you are more suitably provided in the matter of wardrobe.”

He bowed to them, and turned to depart again, but mademoiselle detained him.

“Monsieur!” she cried sharply.

He checked and turned, whilst slowly she approached him, regarding him between dread and wonder.

“Oh, you are noble!”

“I shouldn’t put it as high as that myself,” said he.

“You are, you are! And it is but right that you should know all.”

“Madelon!” her brother cried out, to restrain her.

But she would not be restrained. Her surcharged heart must overflow in confidence.

“Monsieur, for what befell I am greatly at fault. This man—this Levasseur....”

He stared, incredulous in his turn. “My God! Is it possible? That animal!”

Abruptly she fell on her knees, caught his hand and kissed it before he could wrench it from her.

“What do you do?” he cried.

“An amende. In my mind I dishonoured you by deeming you his like, by conceiving your fight with Levasseur a combat between jackals. On my knees, monsieur, I implore you to forgive me.”

Captain Blood looked down upon her, and a smile broke on his lips, irradiating the blue eyes that looked so oddly light in that tawny face.

“Why, child,” said he, “I might find it hard to forgive you the stupidity of having thought otherwise.”

As he handed her to her feet again, he assured himself that he had behaved rather well in the affair. Then he sighed. That dubious fame of his that had spread so quickly across the Caribbean would by now have reached the ears of Arabella Bishop. That she would despise him, he could not doubt, deeming him no better than all the other scoundrels who drove this villainous buccaneering trade. Therefore he hoped that some echo of this deed might reach her also, and be set by her against some of that contempt. For the whole truth, which he withheld from Mademoiselle d’Ogeron, was that in venturing his life to save her, he had been driven by the thought that the deed must be pleasing in the eyes of Miss Bishop could she but witness it.