Howard Pyle's Book of pirates : fiction, fact & fancy concerning the buccaneers & marooners of the Spanish Main
us all you will believe that well enough."
Here he helped himself to a taste of grog, and sucking in his lips,
went on again with what he had to say. "Do you remember," said he,
"that expedition of ours in Kingston Harbor, and how we were all of us
balked that night?"
"Why, yes," said Barnaby True, "nor am I likely to forget it."
"And do you remember what I said to that villain, Jack Malyoe, that
night as his boat went by us?"
"As to that," said Barnaby True, "I do not know that I can say yes or
no, but if you will tell me, I will maybe answer you in kind."
"Why, I mean this," said the other. "I said that the villain had got
the better of us once again, but that next time it would be our turn,
even if William Brand himself had to come back from hell to put the
business through."
"I remember something of the sort," said Barnaby, "now that you speak
of it, but still I am all in the dark as to what you are driving at."
The other looked at him very cunningly for a little while, his head on
one side, and his eyes half shut. Then, as if satisfied, he suddenly
burst out laughing. "Look hither," said he, "and I'll show you
something," and therewith, moving to one side, disclosed a couple of
traveling cases or small trunks with brass studs, so exactly like
those that Sir John Malyoe had fetched aboard at Jamaica that
Barnaby, putting this and that together, knew that they must be the
same.
Our hero had a strong enough suspicion as to what those two cases
contained, and his suspicions had become a certainty when he saw Sir
John Malyoe struck all white at being threatened about them, and his
face lowering so malevolently as to look murder had he dared do it.
But, Lord! what were suspicions or even certainty to what Barnaby
True's two eyes beheld when that man lifted the lids of the two
cases--the locks thereof having already been forced--and, flinging
back first one lid and then the other, displayed to Barnaby's
astonished sight a great treasure of gold and silver! Most of it tied
up in leathern bags, to be sure, but many of the coins, big and
little, yellow and white, lying loose and scattered about like so many
beans, brimming the cases to the very top.
Barnaby sat dumb-struck at what he beheld; as to whether he breathed
or no, I cannot tell; but this I know, that he sat staring at that
marvelous treasure like a man in a trance, until, after a few seconds
of this golden display, the other banged down the lids again and burst
out laughing, whereupon he came back to himself with a jump.
"Well, and what do you think of that?" said the other. "Is it not
enough for a man to turn pirate for? But," he continued, "it is not
for the sake of showing you this that I have been waiting for you here
so long a while, but to tell you that you are not the only passenger
aboard, but that there is another, whom I am to confide to your care
and attention, according to orders I have received; so, if you are
ready, Master Barnaby, I'll fetch her in directly." He waited for a
moment, as though for Barnaby to speak, but our hero not replying, he
arose and, putting away the bottle of rum and the glasses, crossed the
saloon to a door like that from which Barnaby had come a little while
before. This he opened, and after a moment's delay and a few words
spoken to some one within, ushered thence a young lady, who came out
very slowly into the saloon where Barnaby still sat at the table.
It was Miss Marjorie Malyoe, very white, and looking as though stunned
or bewildered by all that had befallen her.
Barnaby True could never tell whether the amazing strange voyage that
followed was of long or of short duration; whether it occupied three
days or ten days. For conceive, if you choose, two people of flesh and
blood moving and living continually in all the circumstances and
surroundings as of a nightmare dream, yet they two so happy together
that all the universe beside was of no moment to them! How was anyone
to tell whether in such circumstances any time appeared to be long or
short? Does a dream appear to be long or to be short?
The vessel in which they sailed was a brigantine of good size and
build, but manned by a considerable crew, the most strange and
outlandish in their appearance that Barnaby had ever beheld--some
white, some yellow, some black, and all tricked out with gay colors,
and gold earrings in their ears, and some with great long mustachios,
and others with handkerchiefs tied around their heads, and all talking
a language together of which Barnaby True could understand not a
single word, but which might have been Portuguese from one or two
phrases he caught. Nor did this strange, mysterious crew, of God knows
what sort of men, seem to pay any attention whatever to Barnaby or to
the young lady. They might now and then have looked at him and her out
of the corners of their yellow eyes, but that was all; otherwise they
were indeed like the creatures of a nightmare dream. Only he who was
the captain of this outlandish crew would maybe speak to Barnaby a few
words as to the weather or what not when he would come down into the
saloon to mix a glass of grog or to light a pipe of tobacco, and then
to go on deck again about his business. Otherwise our hero and the
young lady were left to themselves, to do as they pleased, with no one
to interfere with them.
As for her, she at no time showed any great sign of terror or of fear,
only for a little while was singularly numb and quiet, as though dazed
with what had happened to her. Indeed, methinks that wild beast, her
grandfather, had so crushed her spirit by his tyranny and his violence
that nothing that happened to her might seem sharp and keen, as it
does to others of an ordinary sort.
But this was only at first, for afterward her face began to grow
singularly clear, as with a white light, and she would sit quite
still, permitting Barnaby to gaze, I know not how long, into her eyes,
her face so transfigured and her lips smiling, and they, as it were,
neither of them breathing, but hearing, as in another far-distant
place, the outlandish jargon of the crew talking together in the warm,
bright sunlight, or the sound of creaking block and tackle as they
hauled upon the sheets.
Is it, then, any wonder that Barnaby True could never remember whether
such a voyage as this was long or short?
It was as though they might have sailed so upon that wonderful voyage
forever. You may guess how amazed was Barnaby True when, coming upon
deck one morning, he found the brigantine riding upon an even keel, at
anchor off Staten Island, a small village on the shore, and the
well-known roofs and chimneys of New York town in plain sight across
the water.
'Twas the last place in the world he had expected to see.
And, indeed, it did seem strange to lie there alongside Staten Island
all that day, with New York town so nigh at hand and yet so impossible
to reach. For whether he desired to escape or no, Barnaby True could
not but observe that both he and the young lady were so closely
watched that they might as well have been prisoners, tied hand and
foot and laid in the hold, so far as any hope of getting away was
concerned.
All that day there was a deal of mysterious coming and going aboard
the brigantine, and in the afternoon a sailboat went up to the town,
carrying the captain, and a great load covered over with a tarpaulin
in the stern. What was so taken up to the town Barnaby did not then
guess, but the boat did not return again till about sundown.
For the sun was just dropping below the water when the captain came
aboard once more and, finding Barnaby on deck, bade him come down into
the saloon, where they found the young lady sitting, the broad light
of the evening shining in through the skylight, and making it all
pretty bright within.
The captain commanded Barnaby to be seated, for he had something of
moment to say to him; whereupon, as soon as Barnaby had taken his
place alongside the young lady, he began very seriously, with a
preface somewhat thus: "Though you may think me the captain of this
brigantine, young gentleman, I am not really so, but am under orders,
and so have only carried out those orders of a superior in all these
things that I have done." Having so begun, he went on to say that
there was one thing yet remaining for him to do, and that the greatest
thing of all. He said that Barnaby and the young lady had not been
fetched away from the _Belle Helen_ as they were by any mere chance of
accident, but that 'twas all a plan laid by a head wiser than his, and
carried out by one whom he must obey in all things. He said that he
hoped that both Barnaby and the young lady would perform willingly
what they would be now called upon to do, but that whether they did it
willingly or no, they must, for that those were the orders of one who
was not to be disobeyed.
You may guess how our hero held his breath at all this; but whatever
might have been his expectations, the very wildest of them all did not
reach to that which was demanded of him. "My orders are these," said
the other, continuing: "I am to take you and the young lady ashore,
and to see that you are married before I quit you; and to that end a
very good, decent, honest minister who lives ashore yonder in the
village was chosen and hath been spoken to and is now, no doubt,
waiting for you to come. Such are my orders, and this is the last
thing I am set to do; so now I will leave you alone together for five
minutes to talk it over, but be quick about it, for whether willing or
not, this thing must be done."
Thereupon he went away, as he had promised, leaving those two alone
together, Barnaby like one turned into stone, and the young lady, her
face turned away, flaming as red as fire in the fading light.
Nor can I tell what Barnaby said to her, nor what words he used, but
only, all in a tumult, with neither beginning nor end he told her that
God knew he loved her, and that with all his heart and soul, and that
there was nothing in all the world for him but her; but, nevertheless,
if she would not have it as had been ordered, and if she were not
willing to marry him as she was bidden to do, he would rather die than
lend himself to forcing her to do such a thing against her will.
Nevertheless, he told her she must speak up and tell him yes or no,
and that God knew he would give all the world if she would say "yes."
All this and more he said in such a tumult of words that there was no
order in their speaking, and she sitting there, her bosom rising and
falling as though her breath stifled her. Nor may I tell what she
replied to him, only this, that she said she would marry him. At this
he took her into his arms and set his lips to hers, his heart all
melting away in his bosom.
So presently came the captain back into the saloon again, to find
Barnaby sitting there holding her hand, she with her face turned away,
and his heart beating like a trip hammer, and so saw that all was
settled as he would have it. Wherewith he wished them both joy, and
gave Barnaby his hand.
The yawlboat belonging to the brigantine was ready and waiting
alongside when they came upon deck, and immediately they descended to
it and took their seats. So they landed, and in a little while were
walking up the village street in the darkness, she clinging to his
arm as though she would swoon, and the captain of the brigantine and
two other men from aboard following after them. And so to the
minister's house, finding him waiting for them, smoking his pipe in