Captain Blood

by Rafael Sabatini

  CHAPTER XXV. THE SERVICE OF KING LOUIS

  Meanwhile, some three months before Colonel Bishop set out to reduceTortuga, Captain Blood, bearing hell in his soul, had blown into itsrockbound harbour ahead of the winter gales, and two days ahead of thefrigate in which Wolverstone had sailed from Port Royal a day beforehim.

  In that snug anchorage he found his fleet awaiting him--the four shipswhich had been separated in that gale off the Lesser Antilles, and someseven hundred men composing their crews. Because they had been beginningto grow anxious on his behalf, they gave him the greater welcome. Gunswere fired in his honour and the ships made themselves gay with bunting.The town, aroused by all this noise in the harbour, emptied itselfupon the jetty, and a vast crowd of men and women of all creeds andnationalities collected there to be present at the coming ashore of thegreat buccaneer.

  Ashore he went, probably for no other reason than to obey the generalexpectation. His mood was taciturn; his face grim and sneering. LetWolverstone arrive, as presently he would, and all this hero-worshipwould turn to execration.

  His captains, Hagthorpe, Christian, and Yberville, were on the jetty toreceive him, and with them were some hundreds of his buccaneers. He cutshort their greetings, and when they plagued him with questions of wherehe had tarried, he bade them await the coming of Wolverstone, who wouldsatisfy their curiosity to a surfeit. On that he shook them off, andshouldered his way through that heterogeneous throng that was composedof bustling traders of several nations--English, French, and Dutch--ofplanters and of seamen of various degrees, of buccaneers who werefruit-selling half-castes, negro slaves, some doll-tearsheets anddunghill-queans from the Old World, and all the other types of the humanfamily that converted the quays of Cayona into a disreputable image ofBabel.

  Winning clear at last, and after difficulties, Captain Blood took hisway alone to the fine house of M. d'Ogeron, there to pay his respects tohis friends, the Governor and the Governor's family.

  At first the buccaneers jumped to the conclusion that Wolverstone wasfollowing with some rare prize of war, but gradually from the reducedcrew of the Arabella a very different tale leaked out to stem theirsatisfaction and convert it into perplexity. Partly out of loyalty totheir captain, partly because they perceived that if he was guilty ofdefection they were guilty with him, and partly because being simple,sturdy men of their hands, they were themselves in the main a littleconfused as to what really had happened, the crew of the Arabellapractised reticence with their brethren in Tortuga during those twodays before Wolverstone's arrival. But they were not reticent enoughto prevent the circulation of certain uneasy rumours and extravagantstories of discreditable adventures--discreditable, that is, from thebuccaneering point of view--of which Captain Blood had been guilty.

  But that Wolverstone came when he did, it is possible that there wouldhave been an explosion. When, however, the Old Wolf cast anchor in thebay two days later, it was to him all turned for the explanation theywere about to demand of Blood.

  Now Wolverstone had only one eye; but he saw a deal more with thatone eye than do most men with two; and despite his grizzled head--sopicturesquely swathed in a green and scarlet turban--he had the soundheart of a boy, and in that heart much love for Peter Blood.

  The sight of the Arabella at anchor in the bay had at first amazed himas he sailed round the rocky headland that bore the fort. He rubbed hissingle eye clear of any deceiving film and looked again. Still he couldnot believe what it saw. And then a voice at his elbow--the voice ofDyke, who had elected to sail with him--assured him that he was notsingular in his bewilderment.

  "In the name of Heaven, is that the Arabella or is it the ghost of her?"

  The Old Wolf rolled his single eye over Dyke, and opened his mouth tospeak. Then he closed it again without having spoken; closed it tightly.He had a great gift of caution, especially in matters that he did notunderstand. That this was the Arabella he could no longer doubt. Thatbeing so, he must think before he spoke. What the devil should theArabella be doing here, when he had left her in Jamaica? And was CaptainBlood aboard and in command, or had the remainder of her hands made offwith her, leaving the Captain in Port Royal?

  Dyke repeated his question. This time Wolverstone answered him.

  "Ye've two eyes to see with, and ye ask me, who's only got one, what itis ye see!"

  "But I see the Arabella."

  "Of course, since there she rides. What else was you expecting?"

  "Expecting?" Dyke stared at him, open-mouthed. "Was you expecting tofind the Arabella here?"

  Wolverstone looked him over in contempt, then laughed and spoke loudenough to be heard by all around him. "Of course. What else?" And helaughed again, a laugh that seemed to Dyke to be calling him a fool.On that Wolverstone turned to give his attention to the operation ofanchoring.

  Anon when ashore he was beset by questioning buccaneers, it was fromtheir very questions that he gathered exactly how matters stood, andperceived that either from lack of courage or other motive Blood,himself, had refused to render any account of his doings since theArabella had separated from her sister ships. Wolverstone congratulatedhimself upon the discretion he had used with Dyke.

  "The Captain was ever a modest man," he explained to Hagthorpe and thoseothers who came crowding round him. "It's not his way to be sounding hisown praises. Why, it was like this. We fell in with old Don Miguel,and when we'd scuttled him we took aboard a London pimp sent out by theSecretary of State to offer the Captain the King's commission if so behim'd quit piracy and be o' good behaviour. The Captain damned his soulto hell for answer. And then we fell in wi' the Jamaica fleet and thatgrey old devil Bishop in command, and there was a sure end to CaptainBlood and to every mother's son of us all. So I goes to him, and 'acceptthis poxy commission,' says I; 'turn King's man and save your neck andours.' He took me at my word, and the London pimp gave him the King'scommission on the spot, and Bishop all but choked hisself with rage whenhe was told of it. But happened it had, and he was forced to swallowit. We were King's men all, and so into Port Royal we sailed alongo' Bishop. But Bishop didn't trust us. He knew too much. But for hislordship, the fellow from London, he'd ha' hanged the Captain, King'scommission and all. Blood would ha' slipped out o' Port Royal again thatsame night. But that hound Bishop had passed the word, and the fort kepta sharp lookout. In the end, though it took a fortnight, Blood bubbledhim. He sent me and most o' the men off in a frigate that I bought forthe voyage. His game--as he'd secretly told me--was to follow and givechase. Whether that's the game he played or not I can't tell ye; buthere he is afore me as I'd expected he would be."

  There was a great historian lost in Wolverstone. He had the rightimagination that knows just how far it is safe to stray from the truthand just how far to colour it so as to change its shape for his ownpurposes.

  Having delivered himself of his decoction of fact and falsehood, andthereby added one more to the exploits of Peter Blood, he enquiredwhere the Captain might be found. Being informed that he kept his ship,Wolverstone stepped into a boat and went aboard, to report himself, ashe put it.

  In the great cabin of the Arabella he found Peter Blood alone and veryfar gone in drink--a condition in which no man ever before remembered tohave seen him. As Wolverstone came in, the Captain raised bloodshot eyesto consider him. A moment they sharpened in their gaze as he broughthis visitor into focus. Then he laughed, a loose, idiot laugh, that yetsomehow was half a sneer.

  "Ah! The Old Wolf!" said he. "Got here at last, eh? And whatchergonnerdo wi' me, eh?" He hiccoughed resoundingly, and sagged backloosely in his chair.

  Old Wolverstone stared at him in sombre silence. He had looked withuntroubled eye upon many a hell of devilment in his time, but the sightof Captain Blood in this condition filled him with sudden grief. Toexpress it he loosed an oath. It was his only expression for emotionof all kinds. Then he rolled forward, and dropped into a chair at thetable, facing the Captain.

  "My God, Peter, what's this?"

  "Rum,"
said Peter. "Rum, from Jamaica." He pushed bottle and glasstowards Wolverstone.

  Wolverstone disregarded them.

  "I'm asking you what ails you?" he bawled.

  "Rum," said Captain Blood again, and smiled. "Jus' rum. I answer allyour queshons. Why donjerr answer mine? Whatcher gonerdo wi' me?"

  "I've done it," said Wolverstone. "Thank God, ye had the sense to holdyour tongue till I came. Are ye sober enough to understand me?"

  "Drunk or sober, allus 'derstand you."

  "Then listen." And out came the tale that Wolverstone had told. TheCaptain steadied himself to grasp it.

  "It'll do as well asertruth," said he when Wolverstone had finished."And... oh, no marrer! Much obliged to ye, Old Wolf--faithful Old Wolf!But was it worthertrouble? I'm norrer pirate now; never a pirate again.'S finished'" He banged the table, his eyes suddenly fierce.

  "I'll come and talk to you again when there's less rum in your wits,"said Wolverstone, rising. "Meanwhile ye'll please to remember the taleI've told, and say nothing that'll make me out a liar. They all believesme, even the men as sailed wi' me from Port Royal. I've made 'em. Ifthey thought as how you'd taken the King's commission in earnest, andfor the purpose o' doing as Morgan did, ye guess what would follow."

  "Hell would follow," said the Captain. "An' tha's all I'm fit for."

  "Ye're maudlin," Wolverstone growled. "We'll talk again to-morrow."

  They did; but to little purpose, either that day or on any daythereafter while the rains--which set in that night--endured. Soon theshrewd Wolverstone discovered that rum was not what ailed Blood. Rumwas in itself an effect, and not by any means the cause of the Captain'slistless apathy. There was a canker eating at his heart, and the OldWolf knew enough to make a shrewd guess of its nature. He cursed allthings that daggled petticoats, and, knowing his world, waited for thesickness to pass.

  But it did not pass. When Blood was not dicing or drinking in thetaverns of Tortuga, keeping company that in his saner days he hadloathed, he was shut up in his cabin aboard the Arabella, alone anduncommunicative. His friends at Government House, bewildered atthis change in him, sought to reclaim him. Mademoiselle d'Ogeron,particularly distressed, sent him almost daily invitations, to few ofwhich he responded.

  Later, as the rainy season approached its end, he was sought by hiscaptains with proposals of remunerative raids on Spanish settlements.But to all he manifested an indifference which, as the weeks passedand the weather became settled, begot first impatience and thenexasperation.

  Christian, who commanded the Clotho, came storming to him one day,upbraiding him for his inaction, and demanding that he should take orderabout what was to do.

  "Go to the devil!" Blood said, when he had heard him out. Christiandeparted fuming, and on the morrow the Clotho weighed anchor and sailedaway, setting an example of desertion from which the loyalty of Blood'sother captains would soon be unable to restrain their men.

  Sometimes Blood asked himself why had he come back to Tortuga at all.Held fast in bondage by the thought of Arabella and her scorn of him fora thief and a pirate, he had sworn that he had done with buccaneering.Why, then, was he here? That question he would answer with another:Where else was he to go? Neither backward nor forward could he move, itseemed.

  He was degenerating visibly, under the eyes of all. He had entirely lostthe almost foppish concern for his appearance, and was grown carelessand slovenly in his dress. He allowed a black beard to grow on cheeksthat had ever been so carefully shaven; and the long, thick black hair,once so sedulously curled, hung now in a lank, untidy mane about a facethat was changing from its vigorous swarthiness to an unhealthy sallow,whilst the blue eyes, that had been so vivid and compelling, were nowdull and lacklustre.

  Wolverstone, the only one who held the clue to this degeneration,ventured once--and once only--to beard him frankly about it.

  "Lord, Peter! Is there never to be no end to this?" the giant hadgrowled. "Will you spend your days moping and swilling 'cause awhite-faced ninny in Port Royal'll have none o' ye? 'Sblood and 'ounds!If ye wants the wench, why the plague doesn't ye go and fetch her?"

  The blue eyes glared at him from under the jet-black eyebrows, andsomething of their old fire began to kindle in them. But Wolverstonewent on heedlessly.

  "I'll be nice wi' a wench as long as niceness be the key to her favour.But sink me now if I'd rot myself in rum on account of anything thatwears a petticoat. That's not the Old Wolf's way. If there's no otherexpedition'll tempt you, why not Port Royal? What a plague do it matterif it is an English settlement? It's commanded by Colonel Bishop, andthere's no lack of rascals in your company'd follow you to hell if itmeant getting Colonel Bishop by the throat. It could be done, I tellyou. We've but to spy the chance when the Jamaica fleet is away. There'senough plunder in the town to tempt the lads, and there's the wench foryou. Shall I sound them on 't?"

  Blood was on his feet, his eyes blazing, his livid face distorted."Ye'll leave my cabin this minute, so ye will, or, by Heaven, it's yourcorpse'll be carried out of it. Ye mangy hound, d'ye dare come to mewith such proposals?"

  He fell to cursing his faithful officer with a virulence the like ofwhich he had never yet been known to use. And Wolverstone, in terrorbefore that fury, went out without another word. The subject was notraised again, and Captain Blood was left to his idle abstraction.

  But at last, as his buccaneers were growing desperate, somethinghappened, brought about by the Captain's friend M. d'Ogeron. One sunnymorning the Governor of Tortuga came aboard the Arabella, accompaniedby a chubby little gentleman, amiable of countenance, amiable andself-sufficient of manner.

  "My Captain," M. d'Ogeron delivered himself, "I bring you M. de Cussy,the Governor of French Hispaniola, who desires a word with you."

  Out of consideration for his friend, Captain Blood pulled the pipe fromhis mouth, shook some of the rum out of his wits, and rose and made aleg to M. de Cussy.

  "Serviteur!" said he.

  M. de Cussy returned the bow and accepted a seat on the locker under thestem windows.

  "You have a good force here under your command, my Captain," said he.

  "Some eight hundred men."

  "And I understand they grow restive in idleness."

  "They may go to the devil when they please."

  M. de Cussy took snuff delicately. "I have something better than that topropose," said he.

  "Propose it, then," said Blood, without interest.

  M. de Cussy looked at M. d'Ogeron, and raised his eyebrows a little.He did not find Captain Blood encouraging. But M. d'Ogeron noddedvigorously with pursed lips, and the Governor of Hispaniola propoundedhis business.

  "News has reached us from France that there is war with Spain."

  "That is news, is it?" growled Blood.

  "I am speaking officially, my Captain. I am not alluding to unofficialskirmishes, and unofficial predatory measures which we have condoned outhere. There is war--formally war--between France and Spain in Europe. Itis the intention of France that this war shall be carried into the NewWorld. A fleet is coming out from Brest under the command of M. le Baronde Rivarol for that purpose. I have letters from him desiring me toequip a supplementary squadron and raise a body of not less than athousand men to reenforce him on his arrival. What I have come topropose to you, my Captain, at the suggestion of our good friend M.d'Ogeron, is, in brief, that you enroll your ships and your force underM. de Rivarol's flag."

  Blood looked at him with a faint kindling of interest. "You areoffering to take us into the French service?" he asked. "On what terms,monsieur?"

  "With the rank of Capitaine de Vaisseau for yourself, and suitable ranksfor the officers serving under you. You will enjoy the pay of that rank,and you will be entitled, together with your men, to one-tenth share inall prizes taken."

  "My men will hardly account it generous. They will tell you that theycan sail out of here to-morrow, disembowel a Spanish settlement, andkeep the whole of the plunder."

  "Ah, yes
, but with the risks attaching to acts of piracy. With us yourposition will be regular and official, and considering the powerfulfleet by which M. de Rivarol is backed, the enterprises to be undertakenwill be on a much vaster scale than anything you could attempt on yourown account. So that the one tenth in this case may be equal to morethan the whole in the other."

  Captain Blood considered. This, after all, was not piracy that was beingproposed. It was honourable employment in the service of the King ofFrance.

  "I will consult my officers," he said; and he sent for them.

  They came and the matter was laid before them by M. de Cussy himself.Hagthorpe announced at once that the proposal was opportune. The menwere grumbling at their protracted inaction, and would no doubt be readyto accept the service which M. de Cussy offered on behalf of France.Hagthorpe looked at Blood as he spoke. Blood nodded gloomy agreement.Emboldened by this, they went on to discuss the terms. Yberville, theyoung French filibuster, had the honour to point out to M. de Cussythat the share offered was too small. For one fifth of the prizes, theofficers would answer for their men; not for less.

  M. de Cussy was distressed. He had his instructions. It was taking adeal upon himself to exceed them. The buccaneers were firm. Unless M. deCussy could make it one fifth there was no more to be said. M. de Cussyfinally consenting to exceed his instructions, the articles were drawnup and signed that very day. The buccaneers were to be at Petit Goaveby the end of January, when M. de Rivarol had announced that he might beexpected.

  After that followed days of activity in Tortuga, refitting the ships,boucanning meat, laying in stores. In these matters which once wouldhave engaged all Captain Blood's attention, he now took no part.He continued listless and aloof. If he had given his consent to theundertaking, or, rather, allowed himself to be swept into it by thewishes of his officers--it was only because the service offered was of aregular and honourable kind, nowise connected with piracy, with which heswore in his heart that he had done for ever. But his consent remainedpassive. The service entered awoke no zeal in him. He was perfectlyindifferent--as he told Hagthorpe, who ventured once to offer aremonstrance--whether they went to Petit Goave or to Hades, and whetherthey entered the service of Louis XIV or of Satan.