The Chronicles of Captain Blood cb-2
Page 20
«Not even a sword, Captain Blood.»
«Its absence will no doubt encourage your impertinences.»
But now the Colonel was intervening. «Captain Blood, did you say? Captain Blood? Not the filibuster? Not…?»
«The filibuster indeed; the buccaneer, the transported rebel, the escaped convict on whose head the British Government has placed the price of a thousand pounds.»
«A thousand pounds!» Coulevain sucked his breath. His dark, blood–injected eyes returned to the contemplation of his wife's preserver. «Sir, sir! Is this true, sir?»
Blood shrugged. «Of course it's true. Who else do you suppose could have done what I have told you that I did last night?»
Coulevain continued to stare at him with increasing wonder. «And you contrived to pass yourself off as a Dutchman on a Spanish ship?»
«Who else but Captain Blood could have done that?»
«My God!» said Coulevain.
«I hope, none the less, you'll give me some breakfast, my Colonel?»
«Aboard the Royal Duchess,» said Macartney, evilly facetious, «you shall have all the breakfast you require.»
«Much obliged. But I have a prior claim on the hospitality of Colonel de Coulevain, for services rendered to his wife.»
Major Macartney — he had been promoted since Blood's last meeting with him — smiled. «My claim can wait, then, until your fast is broken.»
«What claim is that?» quoth Coulevain.
«To do my duty by arresting this damned pirate, and delivering him to the hangman.»
M. de Coulevain seemed shocked. «Arrest him? You want to laugh, I think. This, sir, is France. Your warrant does not run on French soil.»
«Perhaps not. But there is an agreement between France and England for the prompt exchange of any prisoners who may have escaped from a penal settlement. Under that agreement, sir, you dare not refuse to surrender Captain Blood to me.»
«Surrender him to you? My guest? The man who has served me so nobly? Who is here as a direct consequence of that service? Sir, it…it is unthinkable.» Thus he displayed to Captain Blood certain remains of decent feeling.
Macartney was gravely calm. «I perceive your scruples. I respect them. But duty is duty.»
«I care nothing for your duty, sir.»
The Major's manner became more stern. «Colonel de Coulevain, you will forgive me for pointing out to you that I have the means at hand to enforce my demand, and my duty will compel me to employ it.»
«What?» Colonel de Coulevain was aghast. «You would land your men under arms on French soil?»
«If you are obstinate in your misplaced chivalry you will leave me no choice.»
«But…God of my life! That would be an act of war. War between the nations would be the probable result.»
Macartney shook his round head. «The certain result would be the cashiering of Colonel de Coulevain for having made the act necessary in defiance of the existing agreement.» He smiled maliciously. «I think you will be sufficiently under a cloud already, my Colonel, for yesterday's events here.»
Coulevain sat down heavily, dragged forth a handkerchief and mopped his brow. He was perspiring freely. He appealed in his distress to Captain Blood. «Death of my life! What am I to do?»
«I am afraid,» said Captain Blood, «that his reasoning is faultless.» He stifled a yawn. «You'll forgive me. I was out in the open all night.» And he, too, sat down. «Do not permit yourself to be distressed, my Colonel. This business of playing Providence is seldom properly requited by Fortune.»
«But what am I to do, sir? What am I to do?»
Under his sleepy exterior, Captain Blood's wits were wide–awake and busy. It was within his experience of these officers sent overseas that they belonged almost without exception to one of two classes: they were either men who, like Coulevain, had dissipated their fortunes, or else younger sons with no fortunes to dissipate. Now, as he afterwards expressed it, he heaved the lead so as to sound the depth of Macartney's disinterestedness and honesty of purpose.
«You will give me up, of course, my Colonel. And the British Government will pay you the reward of a thousand pounds — five thousands pieces of eight.»
Each officer made a sharp movement at that, and from each came an almost inarticulate ejaculation of inquiry.
Captain Blood explained himself. «It is so provided by the agreement under which Major Macartney claims my surrender. Any reward for the apprehension of an escaped prisoner is payable to the person surrendering him to the authorities. Here, on French soil, it will be you, my Colonel, who will surrender me. Major Macartney is merely the representative of the authorities — the British Government — to whom I am surrendered.»
The Englishman's face lost some of its high colour; it lengthened; his mouth drooped; his very breathing quickened. Blood had heaved the lead to some purpose. It had given him the exact depth of Macartney, who stood now tongue–tied and crestfallen, forbidden by decency from making the least protest against the suddenly vanished prospect of a thousand pounds which he had been reckoning as good as in his pocket.
But this was not the only phenomenon produced by Blood's disclosure of the exact situation. Colonel de Coulevain, too, was oddly stricken. The sudden prospect of so easily acquiring this magnificent sum seemed to have affected him as oddly as the contrary had affected Macartney. This was an unexpected complication to the observant Captain Blood. But it led him at once to remember that Madame de Coulevain had described her husband as a broken gamester harassed by creditors. He wondered what would be the ultimate clash of the evil forces he was releasing, and almost ventured to hope that in that, when it came, as once before in a similar situation, would lie his opportunity.
«There is no more to be said, my Colonel,» he drawled. «Circumstances have been too much for me. I know when I've lost, and I must pay.» He yawned again. «Meanwhile, if I might have a little food and rest, I should be grateful. Perhaps Major Macartney will give me leave until this evening, when he can come to fetch me with an escort.»
Macartney swung aside, and paced towards the open windows. The elation, the masterfulness, had completely left him. He dragged his feet. His shoulders drooped. «Very well,» he said sourly, and checked his aimless wandering to turn towards the door. «I'll return for you at six o'clock.»
But on the threshold he paused…«You'll play me no tricks, Captain Blood?»
«Tricks? What tricks can I play?» The Captain smiled wistfully. «I have no buccaneers, no ship, no demi–cannon. Not even a sword, as you remarked, Major. For the only trick I might yet play you…» He broke off, and changed his tone to add more briskly: «Major Macartney, since there's no thousand pounds to be earned by you for taking me, should you not be a fool to refuse a thousand pounds for leaving me? For forgetting that you have seen me?»
Macartney flushed. «What the devil do you mean?»
«Now don't be getting hot, Major. Think it over until this evening. A thousand pounds is a deal of money. You don't earn it every day, or every year, in the service of King James; and you perceive quite clearly by now that you won't earn it by arresting me.»
Macartney bit his lip, looking searchingly meanwhile at the Colonel. «It…it's unthinkable!» he exploded. «I am not to be bribed. Unthinkable! If it were known…»
Captain Blood chuckled. «Is that what's troubling you? But who's to tell? Colonel de Coulevain owes me silence at least.»
The brooding Colonel roused himself. «Oh, at least, at least. Have no doubt of that, sir.»
Macartney looked from one to the other of them, a man plainly in the grip of temptation. He swore in his throat. «I'll return at six,» he announced shortly.
«With an escort, Major, or alone?» was Blood's sly question.
«That's…that's as may be.»
He strode out, and they heard his angrily–planted feet go clattering across the hall. Captain Blood winked at the Colonel, and rose. «I'll wager you a thousand pounds that there will be no esco
rt.»
«I cannot take the wager since I am of the same opinion.»
«Now that's a pity, for I shall require the money, and I don't know how else to obtain it. It is possible he may consent to accept my note of hand.»
«No need to distress yourself on that score.»
Captain Blood searched the Colonel's heavy, blood–hound countenance. It wore a smile, a smile intended to be friendly. But somehow Captain Blood did not like the face any better on that account.
The smile broadened to an increasing friendliness. «You may break your fast and take your rest with an easy mind, sir. I will deal with Maj or Macartney when he returns.»
«You will deal with him? Do you mean that you will advance the money?»
«I owe you no less, my dear Captain.»
Again Captain Blood gave him a long searching stare before he bowed and spoke his eloquent thanks. The proposal was amazing. So amazing coming from a broken gamester harassed by creditors, that it was not to be believed — at least not by a man of Captain Blood's experience.
When, having broken his fast, he repaired to the curtained bed which Abraham had prepared for him in a fair room above stairs, he lay despite his weariness for some time considering it all. He recalled the subtle sudden betraying change in Coulevain's manner when it was disclosed that the reward would go to him; he saw again the oily smile on the Colonel's face when he had announced that he would deal with Major Macartney. If he knew men at all, Coulevain was the last whom he would trust. Of himself he was aware that he was an extremely negotiable security. The British Government had set a definite price upon his head. But it was widely known that the Spaniards whom he had harassed and pillaged without mercy would pay three or four times that price for him alive, so that they might have the pleasure of roasting him in the fires of the Faith. Had this scoundrel Coulevain suddenly perceived that the advent in Mariegalante of this saviour of his wife's honour was something in the nature of a windfall with which to repair his battered fortunes? If the half of what Madame de Coulevain had said of her husband in the course of that night's sailing was true there was no reason to suppose that any nice scruples would restrain him.
The more he considered, the more the Captain's uneasiness increased. He began to perceive that he was in an extremely tight corner. He even' went so far as to ask himself if the most prudent course might not be to rise, weary as he was, slip down to the mole, get aboard the pinnace which already had served him so well, and trust himself in her to the mercies of the ocean. But whither steer a course in that frail cockleshell? Only the neighbouring islands were possible, and they were all either French or British. On British soil he was certain of arrest with the gallows to follow, whilst on French soil he could hardly expect to fare better, considering his experience here where the commander was so deeply in his debt. If only he had money with which to purchase a passage on some ship that might pick him up at sea, money enough to induce a shipmaster to ask no questions whilst landing him off Tortuga. But he had none. The only thing of value in his possession was the great pearl in his left ear, worth perhaps five hundred pieces.
He was disposed to curse that raid in canoes upon the pearl fisheries of Cariaco which had resulted in disaster, had separated him from his ship, and had left him since adrift. But since cursing past events was the least profitable method of averting future ones, he decided to take the sleep of which he stood in need, hoping for the counsel which sleep is said to bring.
He timed himself to awaken at six o'clock, the hour at which Major Macartney was to return, and, his well–trained senses responding to that command, he awakened punctually. The angle of the sun was his sufficient dock. He slipped from the bed, found his shoes, which Abraham had cleaned, his coat, which had been brushed, and his periwig, which had been combed by the good negro. He had scarcely donned them when through the open window floated up to him the sound of a voice. It was the voice of Macartney, and it was answered instantly by the Colonel's with a hearty: «Come you in, sir. Come in.»
In the nick of time, thought Blood; and he accepted the circumstances as a good omen. Cautiously he made his way below, meeting no one on the stairs or in the hall. Outside the door of the dining–room he stood listening. A hum of voices reached him. But they were distant. They came from the room beyond. Noiselessly he opened the door and slid across the threshold. The place was empty, as he had expected. The door of the adjacent room stood ajar. Through this came now the Major's laugh, and upon the heels of it the Colonel's voice.
«Depend upon it. He is under my hand. Spain, as you've said, will pay three times this sum, or even more, for him. Therefore he should be glad to ransom himself for, say, five times the amount of this advance.» He chuckled, adding: «I have the advantage of you, Major, in that I can hold him to ransom, which your position as a British officer makes impossible to you. All things considered, you are fortunate, yes, and wise, to earn a thousand pounds for yourself.»
«My God!» said Macartney, rendered suddenly virtuous by envy. «And that's how you pay your debts and reward the man for preserving your wife's life and honour! Faith, I'm glad I'm not your creditor.»
«Shall we abstain from comments?» the Colonel suggested sourly.
«Oh, by all means. Give me the money, and I'll go my ways.»
There was a chinking squelch twice repeated, as of moneybags that are raised and set down again. «It is in rolls of twenty double moidores. Will you count them?»
There followed a mumbling pause, and at the end of it came the Colonel's voice again. «If you will sign this quittance, the matter is at an end.»
«Quittance?»
«I'll read it to you.» And the Colonel read: «I acknowledge, and give Colonel Jerome de Coulevain this quittance for the sum of five thousand pieces of eight, received from him in consideration of my forbearing from any action against Captain Blood, and of my undertaking no action whatever hereafter for as long as he may remain the guest of Colonel de Coulevain on the Island of Mariegalante or elsewhere. Given under my hand and seal this tenth day of July of 1688.»
As the Colonel's voice trailed off there came an explosion from Macartney.
«God's death, Colonel! Are you mad, or do you think that I am?»
«What do you find amiss? Is it not a correct statement?»
Macartney banged the table in his vehemence. «It puts a rope round my neck.»
«Only if you play me false. What other guarantee have I that when you've taken these five thousand pieces you will keep faith with me?»
«You have my word,» said Macartney in a passion. «And my word must content you.»
«Your word! Your word!» The Frenchman's sneer was unmistakable. «Ah, that, no. Your word is not enough.»
«You want to insult me!»
«Pish! Let us be practical, Major. Ask yourself: Would you accept the word of a man in a transaction in which his own part is dishonest?»
«Dishonest, sir? What the devil do you mean?»
«Are you not accepting a bribe to be false to your duty? Is not that dishonesty?»
«By god! This comes well from you, considering your intentions.»
«You make it necessary. Besides, have I played the hypocrite as to my part? I have been unnecessarily frank, even to appearing a rogue. But, as in your own case, Major, necessity knows no law with me.»
A pause followed upon those conciliatory words. Then: «Nevertheless,» said Macartney, «I do not sign that paper.»
«You'll sign and seal it, or I do not pay the money. What do you fear, Major? I give you my word —»
«Your word! Hell and the devil! In what is your word better than mine?»
«The circumstances make it better. On my side there can be no temptation to break faith, as on yours. It cannot profit me.»
It was clear by now to Blood that since Macartney had not struck the Frenchman for his insults, he would end by signing. Only a desperate need of money could so have curbed the Englishman. He therefore heard with surprise Maca
rtney's angry outburst.
«Give me the pen. Let us have done.»
Another pause followed, then the Colonel's voice: «And now seal it here, where I have set the wax. The signet on your finger will serve.»
Captain Blood waited for no more. The long windows stood open to the garden over which the dusk was rapidly descending. He stepped noiselessly out and vanished amid the shrubs. About the stem of a tall silk–cotton tree he found a tough slender liana swarming like a snake. He brought out his knife, slashed it near the root, and drew it down.
As Captain Macartney, softly humming to himself, a heavy leathern bag in the crook of each arm, came presently down the avenue between the palms where the evening shadows were deepest, he tripped over what he conceived to be a rope stretched taut across the path, and spread–eagled forward with a crash.
Lying momentarily half–stunned by the heavy fall, a weight descended on his back, and in his ear a pleasant voice was murmuring in English, with a strong Irish accent: «I have no buccaneers, Major, no ship, no demi–cannon, and, as you remarked, not even a sword. But I still have my hands and my wits, and they should more than suffice to deal with a paltry rogue like you.»
«By God!» swore Macartney, though half–choked. «You shall hang for this, Captain Blood! By God, you shall!» Frenziedly he struggled to elude the grip of his assailant. His sword being useless in his present position, he sought to reach the pocket in which he carried a pistol, but, by the movement, merely betrayed its presence. Captain Blood possessed himself of it.
«Will you be quiet now?» he asked. «Or must I be blowing out your brains?»
«You dirty Judas! You thieving pirate! Is this how you keep faith?»
«I pledged you no faith, you nasty rogue. Your bargain was with the French colonel, not with me. It was he who bribed you to be false to your duty. I had no part in it.»
«Had you not? You lying dog! You're a pretty pair of scoundrels, on my soul! Working in con–conjunction.»
«Now that,» said Blood, «is needlessly and foolishly offensive.»
Macartney broke into fresh expletives.