He and Estevan were awaiting me, the latter all rigged out, and with smooth black hair oiled and plastered down upon his forehead. I never beheld a more disagreeable face, or one which so thoroughly revealed the nature of a man. As I touched his hand, at Estada’s brief introduction, it was as if I fingered a snake, and expected to be greeted with a kiss. Gunsaules hovered about an open door leading forward, and the table had been set for four. As I knew LeVere had eaten alone, before coming to my relief, the only conclusion was that the Portuguese intended that we be joined by the prisoner. Indeed he gave me little time for doubt.
“This is your chair, Gates, and you will find we live well aboard the Namur—wine, women and song—hey, Manuel! Why not, when all are at command? Steward, you told the lady what my orders were?”
“Si, Senor.”
“Then bid her join us.”
We stood in silence, as Gunsaules crossed the deck, and inserted a key in the afterstateroom door. Manuel was grinning in full enjoyment, but the expression on the face of Estada was that of grim cruelty. Evidently he expected a scene, an outburst of resentment, pleading and tears, and was ready enough to exercise his authority. Perhaps he meant all this as a lesson to me; perhaps it was no more than a natural exhibition of his nature. Yet his purpose to conquer was clearly depicted in his features—-this woman would be made to obey, or else ruthlessly crushed. I felt my hands grip like iron on my chair back and my teeth clinch in restraint. God, but I would have liked to grip the fellow where he stood—all the bottled-up hatred in my soul struggling for action. Yet that would only mean the death of all hope, and I turned my eyes away from him, and stared with the others at the opening door. I failed to catch the words Gunsaules uttered, but they were instantly responded to. Out into the full light of the cabin the woman came, and halted, barely a step in advance of the steward, her head uplifted proudly, her eyes on us. Never before had I realized her beauty, her personality, as I did then. The glow of the light was upon her face, and there was color in her cheeks, and a strange appealing look in her eyes. Her posture was not that of defiance, nor of surrender; she stood as a woman defending her right to respect, sustained by a wonderful courage. I caught her glance, but there was no recognition in it; not by the flicker of an eyelid did she betray surprise, and yet in some mysterious manner a flash of intelligence passed between us. It was all instantaneous for her gaze seemed to concentrate on Estada as though she knew him as leader.
“You sent for me? For what?” she asked, her Spanish clear and well chosen.
“To join us at meal,” he answered unmoved. “It is better than to remain alone.”
“Better! You must have a strange opinion of me to believe I would sit with murderers and thieves.”
“Harsh words, Senorita,” and Estada grinned grimly. “Yet I expected them. There are many trades in the world by which men are robbed. We only work at the one we like best; nor will I discuss that with you. However, Senorita, I can say that we have taken no lives in this last affair.”
“No lives!” in sudden, incredulous surprise. “You mean my uncle lives?”
“If you refer to Fairfax—the one in whose room the chest was hidden, I can reply truthfully that he lives. One of my men struck him down, but it was not a death blow. If that be the reason of your disdain, there is no cause. This chair is held for you.”
“But why was I brought away a prisoner? To be a plaything? A sport for your pleasure?”
“That was but the orders of our chief; we await his recovery to learn his purpose.”
“Sanchez! was he your chief? A pirate?”
“A buccaneer; we prey on the enemies of Spain,” he explained, apparently believing his own words. “It is war with us, without regard to treaties. We rob only that we may carry on the war. They have robbed us, and now it has become our turn. It was at Captain Sanchez’s orders we waited the arrival of your vessel from England. It seems he met you on the voyage.”
“Yes,” breathlessly.
“He loved you; he would, no doubt, have dealt with you honorably: I have reason to believe that to be his purpose now. To this end you gave him no encouragement—is not this true?”
“I—I did not like him.”
“Yet it was his will that you should. Nothing will change his purpose. He is that kind, and he has the power. He determined that if you would not come to him by choice, you should be made to by force. You are here now by his orders and will remain until you consent to his purpose—all that remains for you to decide is whether you choose to be prisoner, or guest aboard.”
Her questioning, perplexed eyes turned from face to face, as though she could not grasp fully the purpose of what was said.
“He—he is still alive—this Captain Sanchez?”
“Yes, with a chance to survive.”
“And if he lives I am to be at his disposal?”
“He is the chief here; his will is law aboard.”
“And if he should die?”
Estada shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
“Who knows!”
Her lips tightened as though to hold back a cry while one hand pressed to the open door steadied her. The cheeks were no longer flushed, and there was a look in the searching eyes I did not like to see. It was a moment before she could control her voice.
“I have heard them call you Estada,” she said finally, determined to learn the whole truth. “Of what rank in this company are you?”
“I am Pedro Estada, formerly the first officer, now, by occasion of Captain Sanchez’s wound, in full command. These are two of my officers—Senor Gates, one of your own countrymen, and Manuel Estevan.”
“You are pirates?”
He laughed unpleasantly, as though the word had an ugly sound even to his ears.
“Rather call us sea rovers, Senorita. It better expresses our trade. Enough to admit that we serve under no flag, and confess no master. And now, that I have answered your questions, what is it to be between us—peace or war?”
Her eyes drooped, and I could distinctly note the trembling of her slender figure. When she slowly raised her glance once more it rested on my face as though seeking approval, guidance.
“If there be only the one choice,” she said quietly. “I accept peace. I cannot live locked in that room alone, haunted by my thoughts and memories. If I pledge you my word, Senor, am I to enjoy the freedom of this cabin and the deck?”
Estada looked at us, a shade of doubt in his eyes. I made no sign, but Manuel nodded.
“Why not?” he asked in his harsh croak of a voice. “So long as we be at sea? What harm can the girl do?”
“Perhaps none; I will take a half chance, at least. You shall have the freedom of the cabin. So long as you keep your word, while as to the deck we will consider that later. Prove you mean what you say by joining us here.”
My recollection of that meal is not of words, but of faces. I do not even clearly recall what it was we talked about, although it included a variety of topics, limited somewhat by lack of knowledge on the part of Estada and Manuel. The former attempted conversation, but soon gave up the effort in despair. His eyes, however, sought constantly the girl’s face and to my consternation exhibited an interest in her personality which promised trouble. I know not whether she noticed this awakening admiration, but she certainly played her part with quiet modesty, speaking just enough to entertain, and hiding the deep anxiety against which she struggled. I believe that even the Portuguese reached the conclusion that she was not altogether regretful for this adventure and that it was safe for him to relax some degree of vigilance. His manner became more gracious and, long before the meal ended, his language had a tendency to compliment and flatter. I contented myself with occasional sentences. The young woman sat directly across from me, our words overheard by all, and as I knew both men possessed some slight knowledge of English, I dare not venture beyond commonplace conversation in that tongue. With quick wit she took her cue from me, so that nothing passed between us, e
ither by word of mouth or glance of eye, to arouse suspicions.
Believing the feeling of confidence would be increased by such action, I was first to leave the table, and it being my watch below, immediately retired to my room, noisily closing the door after me, yet refraining from letting the latch catch, thus enjoying a slight opening through which to both see and hear. Manuel did not linger long, making some excuse to go forward, but Estada remained for some time, endeavoring to entertain. She laughed at his efforts and appeared interested in encouraging him, so that he kept his spirit of good humor even amid these difficulties. His egotism made a fool of the man, yet even he finally became discouraged of making her comprehend his meaning, and lapsed into a silence which gave her an excuse to retire. This was accomplished so graciously as to leave no sting, the fellow actually accompanying her to the door of her stateroom, bowing his compliments as she disappeared within. The fool actually believed he had made a conquest and preened himself like a turkey cock.
“Gunsaules.”
“Senor.”
“You need not lock the Senorita in her room or guard her in any way hereafter. She is permitted to come and go as she pleases aboard.”
“Si, Senor.”
“You have served the Captain and Jose? Yes—did the wounded man eat at all?”
“A little soup, Senor; he would taste nothing else.”
Estada entered his own stateroom, leaving the door ajar. When he came out he had exchanged his coat for a rough jacket. Thus attired for a turn on deck, he disappeared through the companion.
CHAPTER XVI
IN DOROTHY’S STATEROOM
I stood crouched, with eye at the crack watchful of every movement in the lighted cabin, my own decision made. I must see and talk with Dorothy. We must understand each other, and the earlier we could thus begin working together in unison, the better. Gunsaules bore a tray of dishes from the Captain’s room and then, after carefully wiping up the main table, and sliding it up out of the way on its stantions, placed a bottle of brandy and some glasses on a swinging shelf. Apparently satisfied that his work there was completed he turned down the light, and departed along the passage leading amidships. A moment later I heard the sound of dishes grinding together preparatory to being washed. No better opportunity for action was likely to occur, although the situation was not without peril. Jose might emerge at any instant from Sanchez’s cabin, while I had no reason to be assured that Estada would remain long on deck. Even if he did, any movement below could be observed through the overhead glass. Indeed it might be with this purpose in view that he had gone outside. However I felt compelled to accept the chance. The light was so dim that I believed I could steal cautiously along in the deeper shadows without attracting attention from the deck, even if someone stood there on watch.
I moved noiselessly leaving my own door slightly ajar, and crept along close to the side walls until I attained my destination. Nothing occurred causing me to fear my movements were detected. To have knocked at the closed door however softly might be overheard, so knowing it to be unlocked I merely lifted the latch noiselessly, and slipped quickly within. There was no light, except a glimmer of stars through a large after port, but against this faint radiance she stood vaguely revealed. Evidently the girl had been standing there, gazing out at the waters, and had turned swiftly about at my entrance, aroused by some slight sound. Her first thought must have been Estada, for there was a startled note of fear in her challenge.
“Who are you? Why do you come here?”
“Speak low,” I cautioned. “You must know my voice.”
“Geoffry Carlyle!”
“Yes, but do not use that name—all hope depends on my remaining unknown. You welcome me?”
She came straight forward through the dim star-shine, a spectral figure, with both hands outstretched.
“Welcome!” her tone that of intense sincerity. “Your presence gives me all the strength I have. But for you I should throw myself through that port into the sea. But I know not how you came here—tell me, you are not really one of these wretches?”
“No; you must believe that first of all, and trust me.”
“I do—but—but tell me all you can.”
“Is there a divan here, or anywhere we can sit down together? I can see nothing in this darkness.”
“Yes, hold my hand while I guide you; we can sit here.” It was a couch of some kind against the outer wall. She did not release her grasp, seemingly gaining courage from this physical contact, and my fingers closed warmly over her own.
“Now please,” breathlessly, “how is it possible you are aboard this vessel—an officer?”
I told her the strange story, as swiftly and simply as possible, speaking scarcely above a whisper, feeling as I progressed that I related a dream rather than a series of facts. It seemed to me she could scarcely be expected to believe the truth of what I said, and yet she did, almost unquestioningly, the clasp of her fingers perceptibly tightening as I proceeded. The soft light from the open port touched her face slightly, enough to reveal its outline and she sat so close beside me, her eyes uplifted to mine, that I could feel her breath upon my cheek.
“Why, if—-if you had not told me this yourself I could hardly believe such a tale,” she exclaimed. “Yet it must be true, miraculous as it seems. But what is to be the ending? Have you any plan of escape?”
“Hardly a plan. I have had no opportunity even to learn the true nature of the crew. Watkins is an honest sailor, and he has told me of others on whom I could rely. There are those aboard—but I do not know how many—who would mutiny if they had a leader, and a reasonable chance of success. I must reach these and learn who they are. Fortunately the voyage promises to be long enough to enable me to plan carefully.”
“You have discussed the voyage with this man—Estada?”
“He told me what he had decided upon; not to return to their rendezvous until after they had captured some prizes, and could go with gold chinking in their pockets.”
“They have gold already—the chest taken from my uncle.”
“That only serves to make such as these more greedy.”
“Where is their rendezvous?”
“An island in the West Indies, probably not on the chart. They call it Porto Grande.”
“And they will sweep the ocean between here and there, seeking victims? Unarmed merchantmen to rob and sink? And you—you will be compelled to take part in such scenes, such acts of pillage and perhaps murder. Is this true?”
“I presume I must seem to be one of them to avoid suspicion. There is some hope in my mind that we may chance to run into an English or French warship. Quite a few must be cruising in these waters. But these are only contingencies; they may happen and they may not. How we are to act under such conditions will have to be decided later. Now we must be content to seek release through our own efforts. Have you any suggestions?”
She was silent for a long moment, during which she withdrew her hand, pressing it over her eyes as though thus to better concentrate her thoughts.
“There is conspiracy on board already,” she said finally “that you may not know about.”
“You mean to depose Sanchez?” I questioned in surprise.
“Yes; you had suspicioned it? They thought me unconscious in the boat, and talked among themselves—the two at the stern, Estada and that beast, Manuel. I did not understand all they said, only a word or two, but I do not think they intend the Captain shall recover.”
“You think it best that he should?”
“Oh, I do not know; there is no best that I can see. Yet I would have more faith in being spared disgrace if at the mercy of Sanchez, than his lieutenant. Both may be equally guilty, equally desperate, but they are not the same men.”
“True, but I know not which is to be most feared.”
“I may be wrong,” she insisted, “for I judge as a woman, yet I would feel safer with Sanchez. He cares not much for me, perhaps, yet enough so that I possess som
e power over him. The other does not—he merely desires with the passions of a brute. No appeal would reach him; he would laugh at tears and find pleasure in suffering. I do not quite believe this of Sanchez.”
“Perhaps not—-the other may be the greater beast.”
“I know he is; the proof is in those horrid eyes. What is the man? Of what race?”
“Portuguese, I am told, but likely a half-breed.”
“Ugh! it makes me shudder to even look at him; and yet you would have me appear friendly?”
“We cannot permit him to feel that either of us are enemies. He is the power aboard; our lives, everything are in his hands. If he means to be rid of Sanchez, the man is doomed, for he will find a way to accomplish his purpose at whatever cost; murder means nothing to these men.”
“Of course you are right,” she acknowledged. “Our case is so desperate we must resort to any weapons. You believe it will serve the possibility of escape if I permit this monster to imagine that I have some interest in him?”
“To do so might delay the explosion,” I replied gravely, “and just now any delay is welcome. I know how such an effort will try you, but the end may be well worth the sacrifice. I doubt if even Estada will resort to force on board; indeed force will be the very last card he will care to play in your case. He is a brute, and capable of any crime, yet at heart a coward. There is reason why he will fear to assault you. You are English and all the practical seamen on board are from northern Europe—English and Scandinavian. These men are not pirates from choice—they are prisoners who have taken on to save their own lives. With his bullies and cut-throats amidships he can compel them to work, but he dare not go too far. Once these fellows unite in mutiny they could take the ship. An assault on you would be dangerous.”
“It is these men you count on?”
“Yes; but for me to gain their confidence and leadership will require time. I must reach them all secretly and alone. Not more than half are in my watch, and Watkins must approach the others. A plan for concerted action will have to be arranged, and every precaution taken. The slightest slip would mean failure, and merciless punishment. Even if I succeed in gathering together all these better elements on board, we shall yet be outnumbered two to one, perhaps more, and our only hope rests in surprise. At best the situation is absolutely desperate—but I see no other solution.”
The Pirate Story Megapack: 25 Classic and Modern Tales Page 201
