Читать книгу Brethren of the Main - Рафаэль Сабатини - Страница 9

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The boats pulled out, with their loads of laughing, jeering, taunting pirates, and they had come midway between the wharf and the frigate 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 and hurled a shower of spray over its occupants.

They paused on their oars, turning in angry dismay, volubly to anathematize this dangerous carelessness on the part of their gunner, until to silence them came a second shot better aimed that crumpled the boat into splinters and flung them, dead and living, into the water.

But if it silenced them, it gave sudden vehement, angry and bewildered tongues to the occupants of the other seven boats. From each the suspended oars stood out parallel with the water, while on their feet in their excitement the Spaniards screamed oaths to the frigate, asking themselves and it what madman had been let loose amid her guns.

Plump into the middle of them came another shot, smashing a second boat with fearful execution. Followed a moment of awful silence, then among the pirates all was gibbering and jabbering and splashing of oars as they attempted to pull in every direction at once. Some were for going ashore, others for heading straight to the frigate and there discovering what might be amiss. That something was gravely amiss there could he no further doubt, particularly as while they discussed and fumed and cursed two more shots came over the water to account for yet a third of their boats.

After that their opinions were no longer divided. They went about—or attempted to do so, for before they had accomplished it two more of them had been sunk. The three boats that remained afloat, without concerning themselves with their more unfortunate fellows struggling in the water, headed back for the wharf at speed.

If the Spaniards understood nothing, the forlorn islanders on the shore understood still less, until at last to help their wits the flag of Spain came down from the masthead of the frigate, and the English ensign soared to its empty place. Even then bewilderment persisted, and they observed with fearful eyes the return of their enemies who might vent upon them the ferocity aroused by these extraordinary events.

The resolute Ogle, however, continued to give proof that his knowledge of gunnery was not of yesterday. After the fleeing Spaniards went his shots, and the last of their boats flew into splinters as it touched the wharf. That was the end of that pirate crew, which not ten minutes ago had been laughingly counting up the pieces of eight that would accrue to each of them from their easy victory.

The few stragglers that swam ashore had afterward reason to regret it.

The mystery of the succor that had come to the islanders at the eleventh hour to turn the tables on the Spaniards and preserve for the island the extortionate ransom that had been wrung from it, remained yet to be probed. That the frigate was now in friendly British hands could no longer be doubted. And the only possible inference ran the truth very closely. A party of islanders must have got on board her during the night. It remained to ascertain the precise identity of these mysterious saviors and to do them fitting honor. Upon this errand—Governor Creed's condition not permitting him to go in person—went Colonel Bishop as the governor's deputy, attended by two officers.

Stepping from the ladder into the frigate's waist, the colonel's eyes sparkled when they alighted upon the four treasure-chests, the contents of one of which had been entirely contributed by himself. Ranged on either side of them stood a dozen men, in two martial files, with breasts and backs of steel, polished Spanish morions on their heads, overshadowing their faces, and muskets ordered at their sides.

The planter could not be expected to recognize at a glance in these upright, furbished, soldierly figures, the ragged, unkempt scarecrows that but yesterday had been his slaves. Still less could he be expected to recognize at once the courtly gentleman who advanced to meet him—a lean, graceful gentleman dressed in the Spanish fashion, all in black With silver lace, a gold-hilted sword dangling beside him froth a gold-embroidered baldrick, a broad castor with a sweeping plume set above his carefully curled ringlets of deepest black.

"Be welcome aboard the Cinco Llagas, colonel darling," the planter heard himself greeted in a voice vaguely familiar. "We've made the best of the Spaniards' wardrobe to do fitting honor to this visit. Though I confess it's the governor himself we were expecting."

"Peter Blood!" ejaculated Colonel Bishop. And then understanding and exultation followed swiftly upon his amazement. "Gadsmylife!" he roared. "My slaves! And it was with these you took the Spaniards and turned the tables on them. Odswounds, it's heroic!"

"Heroic, is it? Bedad, it's epic," said Mr. Blood, and added fervently, "Blessed be my genius!"

The colonel sat down on one of the chests, took off his broad hat and mopped his brow.

"Y'amaze me," he said. "On my soul, y'amaze me! I couldn't have believed it. I'll take oath I couldn't. To have recovered the treasure, and to have captured for us this fine ship, with all she'll hold! It will be something to set against the losses we have suffered. Gadsmylife, Blood, you deserve well for this; you all deserve well for it, and —— me, you shall find me grateful. His Excellency shall write home an account of your exploit, and maybe some part of your sentence on the island will be remitted you."

"I'm thinking so myself," said Mr. Blood, in a tone that made the colonel look up. Among the rebels convict some one made so bold as to laugh. "And meanwhile there's a matter of flogging that's due to me. Ye're a man of your word in such matters, colonel, and ye said, I think, that ye'll not leave a square inch of skin to my back—"

The planter rose abruptly, to interrupt. Almost, it seemed, the suggestion offended him.

"Tush, tusk! After this splendid deed of yours, do you suppose I can be thinking of such things? There's no longer any question of that for you, my friend."

"Yet I'm thinking it's mighty lucky for me the Spaniards didn't come today instead of yesterday, or it's in the sand case as poor Jerry Pitt I'd be this minute. And if I'd been like that, where was the genius that would have turned the tables on these thieving Spaniards?"

"Why speak of it?"

"Because ye've worked a deal of mischief and cruelty in your time, and I want this to be a lesson to you, a lesson that yell remember. There's Jerry Pitt lying up there in the cabin with the fever and a back that's every color of the rainbow. And if it hadn't been for the Spaniards maybe it's dead he'd be by now. That's bad enough. But when I think that ye meant to do the like by me, I'm wondering if I'll let you go ashore at all."

"What the —— do you mean?"

Alarm leaped at last within the colonel's soul, and though his tone was blustering his face was white.

"Anyway, I think I'll just keep you aboard as a hostage for the good behavior of Governor Creed, and what's left of the fort, until we weigh anchor and put to sea."

"Until you—"

Horror prevented Colonel Bishop from echoing the whole of that incredible speech.

"Just so," said Mr. Blood, and he turned to the officers who had accompanied the colonel. "The boat's waiting, sirs. You'll have heard what I said. Convey it with my compliments to his Excellency."

"But, sir—"

"If you please, gentlemen, my name is Blood, elected captain of this ship, the Cinco Llagas, taken as a prize of war from Don Diego Valdez, who is my prisoner aboard. We've turned the tables on more than the Spaniards. So now you'll understand. There's the ladder. You'll find it more convenient than being heaved over the side, which is what will happen if you linger."

They went, though not without some hustling, despite the bellowing of Colonel Bishop, whose monstrous rage was fanned by terror at finding himself at the mercy of those men whom he had so foully abused.