Howard Pyle's Book of pirates : fiction, fact & fancy concerning the buccaneers & marooners of the Spanish Main
our hero was twenty-one years old he had made four voyages as
supercargo to the West Indies in Mr. Hartright's ship, the _Belle
Helen_, and soon after he was twenty-one undertook a fifth. Nor was it
in any such subordinate position as mere supercargo that he acted, but
rather as the confidential agent of Mr. Hartright, who, having no
children of his own, was very jealous to advance our hero into a
position of trust and responsibility in the countinghouse, as though
he were indeed a son, so that even the captain of the ship had
scarcely more consideration aboard than he, young as he was in years.
As for the agents and correspondents of Mr. Hartright throughout these
parts, they also, knowing how the good man had adopted his interests,
were very polite and obliging to Master Barnaby--especially, be it
mentioned, Mr. Ambrose Greenfield, of Kingston, Jamaica, who, upon the
occasions of his visits to those parts, did all that he could to make
Barnaby's stay in that town agreeable and pleasant to him.
So much for the history of our hero to the time of the beginning of
this story, without which you shall hardly be able to understand the
purport of those most extraordinary adventures that befell him shortly
after he came of age, nor the logic of their consequence after they
had occurred.
For it was during his fifth voyage to the West Indies that the first
of those extraordinary adventures happened of which I shall have
presently to tell.
At that time he had been in Kingston for the best part of four weeks,
lodging at the house of a very decent, respectable widow, by name Mrs.
Anne Bolles, who, with three pleasant and agreeable daughters, kept a
very clean and well-served lodging house in the outskirts of the town.
One morning, as our hero sat sipping his coffee, clad only in loose
cotton drawers, a shirt, and a jacket, and with slippers upon his
feet, as is the custom in that country, where everyone endeavors to
keep as cool as may be--while he sat thus sipping his coffee Miss
Eliza, the youngest of the three daughters, came and gave him a note,
which, she said, a stranger had just handed in at the door, going away
again without waiting for a reply. You may judge of Barnaby's surprise
when he opened the note and read as follows:
MR. BARNABY TRUE.
SIR,--Though you don't know me, I know you, and I tell you
this: if you will be at Pratt's Ordinary on Harbor Street on
Friday next at eight o'clock of the evening, and will
accompany the man who shall say to you, "The _Royal
Sovereign_ is come in," you shall learn something the most
to your advantage that ever befell you. Sir, keep this note,
and show it to him who shall address these words to you, so
to certify that you are the man he seeks.
Such was the wording of the note, which was without address, and
without any superscription whatever.
The first emotion that stirred Barnaby was one of extreme and profound
amazement. Then the thought came into his mind that some witty fellow,
of whom he knew a good many in that town--and wild, waggish pranks
they were--was attempting to play off some smart jest upon him. But
all that Miss Eliza could tell him when he questioned her concerning
the messenger was that the bearer of the note was a tall, stout man,
with a red neckerchief around his neck and copper buckles to his
shoes, and that he had the appearance of a sailorman, having a great
big queue hanging down his back. But, Lord! what was such a
description as that in a busy seaport town, full of scores of men to
fit such a likeness? Accordingly, our hero put away the note into his
wallet, determining to show it to his good friend Mr. Greenfield that
evening, and to ask his advice upon it. So he did show it, and that
gentleman's opinion was the same as his--that some wag was minded to
play off a hoax upon him, and that the matter of the letter was all
nothing but smoke.
Nevertheless, though Barnaby was thus confirmed in his opinion as to
the nature of the communication he had received, he yet determined in
his own mind that he would see the business through to the end, and
would be at Pratt's Ordinary, as the note demanded, upon the day and
at the time specified therein.
Pratt's Ordinary was at that time a very fine and well-known place of
its sort, with good tobacco and the best rum that ever I tasted, and
had a garden behind it that, sloping down to the harbor front, was
planted pretty thick with palms and ferns grouped into clusters with
flowers and plants. Here were a number of little tables, some in
little grottoes, like our Vauxhall in New York, and with red and blue
and white paper lanterns hung among the foliage, whither gentlemen and
ladies used sometimes to go of an evening to sit and drink lime juice
and sugar and water (and sometimes a taste of something stronger), and
to look out across the water at the shipping in the cool of the night.
Thither, accordingly, our hero went, a little before the time
appointed in the note, and passing directly through the Ordinary and
the garden beyond, chose a table at the lower end of the garden and
close to the water's edge, where he would not be easily seen by
anyone coming into the place. Then, ordering some rum and water and a
pipe of tobacco, he composed himself to watch for the appearance of
those witty fellows whom he suspected would presently come thither to
see the end of their prank and to enjoy his confusion.
The spot was pleasant enough; for the land breeze, blowing strong and
full, set the leaves of the palm tree above his head to rattling and
clattering continually against the sky, where, the moon then being
about full, they shone every now and then like blades of steel. The
waves also were splashing up against the little landing place at the
foot of the garden, sounding very cool in the night, and sparkling all
over the harbor where the moon caught the edges of the water. A great
many vessels were lying at anchor in their ridings, with the dark,
prodigious form of a man-of-war looming up above them in the
moonlight.
There our hero sat for the best part of an hour, smoking his pipe of
tobacco and sipping his grog, and seeing not so much as a single thing
that might concern the note he had received.
It was not far from half an hour after the time appointed in the note,
when a rowboat came suddenly out of the night and pulled up to the
landing place at the foot of the garden above mentioned, and three or
four men came ashore in the darkness. Without saying a word among
themselves they chose a near-by table and, sitting down, ordered rum
and water, and began drinking their grog in silence. They might have
sat there about five minutes, when, by and by, Barnaby True became
aware that they were observing him very curiously; and then almost
immediately one, who was plainly the leader of the party, called out
to him:
"How now, messmate! Won't you come and drink a dram of rum with us?"
"Why, no," says Barnaby, answering very civilly; "I have drunk enough
already, and more would only heat my blood."
"All the same," quoth the stranger, "I think you will come and drink
with us; for, unless I am mistook, you are Mr. Barnaby True, and I am
come here to tell you that the _Royal Sovereign is come in_."
Now I may honestly say that Barnaby True was never more struck aback
in all his life than he was at hearing these words uttered in so
unexpected a manner. He had been looking to hear them under such
different circumstances that, now that his ears heard them addressed
to him, and that so seriously, by a perfect stranger, who, with
others, had thus mysteriously come ashore out of the darkness, he
could scarce believe that his ears heard aright. His heart suddenly
began beating at a tremendous rate, and had he been an older and wiser
man, I do believe he would have declined the adventure, instead of
leaping blindly, as he did, into that of which he could see neither
the beginning nor the ending. But being barely one-and-twenty years of
age, and having an adventurous disposition that would have carried him
into almost anything that possessed a smack of uncertainty or danger
about it, he contrived to say, in a pretty easy tone (though God knows
how it was put on for the occasion):
"Well, then, if that be so, and if the _Royal Sovereign_ is indeed
come in, why, I'll join you, since you are so kind as to ask me." And
therewith he went across to the other table, carrying his pipe with
him, and sat down and began smoking, with all the appearance of ease
he could assume upon the occasion.
"Well, Mr. Barnaby True," said the man who had before addressed him,
so soon as Barnaby had settled himself, speaking in a low tone of
voice, so there would be no danger of any others hearing the
words--"Well, Mr. Barnaby True--for I shall call you by your name, to
show you that though I know you, you don't know me--I am glad to see
that you are man enough to enter thus into an affair, though you can't
see to the bottom of it. For it shows me that you are a man of mettle,
and are deserving of the fortune that is to befall you to-night.
Nevertheless, first of all, I am bid to say that you must show me a
piece of paper that you have about you before we go a step farther."
"Very well," said Barnaby; "I have it here safe and sound, and see it
you shall." And thereupon and without more ado he fetched out his
wallet, opened it, and handed his interlocutor the mysterious note he
had received the day or two before. Whereupon the other, drawing to
him the candle, burning there for the convenience of those who would
smoke tobacco, began immediately reading it.
This gave Barnaby True a moment or two to look at him. He was a tall,
stout man, with a red handkerchief tied around his neck, and with
copper buckles on his shoes, so that Barnaby True could not but wonder
whether he was not the very same man who had given the note to Miss
Eliza Bolles at the door of his lodging house.
"'Tis all right and straight as it should be," the other said, after
he had so glanced his eyes over the note. "And now that the paper is
read" (suiting his action to his words), "I'll just burn it, for
safety's sake."
And so he did, twisting it up and setting it to the flame of the
candle.
"And now," he said, continuing his address, "I'll tell you what I am
here for. I was sent to ask you if you're man enough to take your life
in your own hands and to go with me in that boat down there? Say
'Yes,' and we'll start away without wasting more time, for the devil
is ashore here at Jamaica--though you don't know what that means--and
if he gets ahead of us, why, then we may whistle for what we are
after. Say 'No,' and I go away again, and I promise you you shall
never be troubled again in this sort. So now speak up plain, young
gentleman, and tell us what is your mind in this business, and whether
you will adventure any farther or not."
If our hero hesitated it was not for long. I cannot say that his
courage did not waver for a moment; but if it did, it was, I say, not
for long, and when he spoke up it was with a voice as steady as could
be.
"To be sure I'm man enough to go with you," he said; "and if you mean
me any harm I can look out for myself; and if I can't, why, here is
something can look out for me," and therewith he lifted up the flap of
his coat pocket and showed the butt of a pistol he had fetched with
him when he had set out from his lodging house that evening.
At this the other burst out a-laughing. "Come," says he, "you are
indeed of right mettle, and I like your spirit. All the same, no one
in all the world means you less ill than I, and so, if you have to use
that barker, 'twill not be upon us who are your friends, but only upon