The Dealings of Captain Sharkey, and Other Tales of Pirates
III
THE BLIGHTING OF SHARKEY
Sharkey, the abominable Sharkey, was out again. After two years of theCoromandel coast, his black barque of death, the _Happy Delivery_, wasprowling off the Spanish Main, while trader and fisher flew for dearlife at the menace of that patched fore-topsail, rising slowly over theviolet rim of the tropical sea.
As the birds cower when the shadow of the hawk falls athwart the field,or as the jungle folk crouch and shiver when the coughing cry of thetiger is heard in the night-time, so through all the busy world ofships, from the whalers of Nantucket to the tobacco ships of Charleston,and from the Spanish supply ships of Cadiz to the sugar merchants of theMain, there spread the rumour of the black curse of the ocean.
Some hugged the shore, ready to make for the nearest port, while othersstruck far out beyond the known lines of commerce, but none were sostout-hearted that they did not breathe more freely when theirpassengers and cargoes were safe under the guns of some mothering fort.
Through all the islands there ran tales of charred derelicts at sea, ofsudden glares seen afar in the night-time, and of withered bodiesstretched upon the sand of waterless Bahama Keys. All the old signs werethere to show that Sharkey was at his bloody game once more.
These fair waters and yellow-rimmed palm-nodding islands are thetraditional home of the sea rover. First it was the gentlemanadventurer, the man of family and honour, who fought as a patriot,though he was ready to take his payment in Spanish plunder.
Then, within a century, his debonair figure had passed to make room forthe buccaneers, robbers pure and simple, yet with some organised code oftheir own, commanded by notable chieftains, and taking in hand greatconcerted enterprises.
They, too, passed with their fleets and their sacking of cities, to makeroom for the worst of all, the lonely, outcast pirate, the bloodyIshmael of the seas, at war with the whole human race. This was the vilebrood which the early eighteenth century had spawned forth, and of themall there was none who could compare in audacity, wickedness, and evilrepute with the unutterable Sharkey.
It was early in May, in the year 1720, that the _Happy Delivery_ laywith her fore-yard aback some five leagues west of the Windward Passage,waiting to see what rich, helpless craft the trade-wind might bring downto her.
Three days she had lain there, a sinister black speck, in the centre ofthe great sapphire circle of the ocean. Far to the south-east the lowblue hills of Hispaniola showed up on the skyline.
Hour by hour as he waited without avail, Sharkey's savage temper hadrisen, for his arrogant spirit chafed against any contradiction, evenfrom Fate itself. To his quartermaster, Ned Galloway, he had said thatnight, with his odious neighing laugh, that the crew of the nextcaptured vessel should answer to him for having kept him waiting solong.
The cabin of the pirate barque was a good-sized room, hung with muchtarnished finery, and presenting a strange medley of luxury anddisorder. The panelling of carved and polished sandal-wood was blotchedwith foul smudges and chipped with bullet-marks fired in some drunkenrevelry.
Rich velvets and laces were heaped upon the brocaded settees, whilemetal-work and pictures of great price filled every niche and corner,for anything which caught the pirate's fancy in the sack of a hundredvessels was thrown haphazard into his chamber. A rich, soft carpetcovered the floor, but it was mottled with wine-stains and charred withburned tobacco.
Above, a great brass hanging-lamp threw a brilliant yellow light uponthis singular apartment, and upon the two men who sat in theirshirt-sleeves with the wine between them, and the cards in their hands,deep in a game of piquet. Both were smoking long pipes, and the thinblue reek filled the cabin and floated through the skylight above them,which, half opened, disclosed a slip of deep violet sky spangled withgreat silver stars.
Ned Galloway, the quartermaster, was a huge New England wastrel, the onerotten branch upon a goodly Puritan family tree. His robust limbs andgiant frame were the heritage of a long line of God-fearing ancestors,while his black savage heart was all his own. Bearded to the temples,with fierce blue eyes, a tangled lion's mane of coarse, dark hair, andhuge gold rings in his ears, he was the idol of the women in everywaterside hell from the Tortugas to Maracaibo on the Main. A red cap, ablue silken shirt, brown velvet breeches with gaudy knee-ribbons, andhigh sea-boots made up the costume of the rover Hercules.
A very different figure was Captain John Sharkey. His thin, drawn,clean-shaven face was corpse-like in its pallor, and all the suns of theIndies could but turn it to a more deathly parchment tint. He was partbald, with a few lank locks of tow-like hair, and a steep, narrowforehead. His thin nose jutted sharply forth, and near-set on eitherside of it were those filmy blue eyes, red-rimmed like those of a whitebull-terrier, from which strong men winced away in fear and loathing.His bony hands, with long, thin fingers which quivered ceaselessly likethe antennae of an insect, were toying constantly with the cards and theheap of gold moidores which lay before him. His dress was of some soberdrab material, but, indeed, the men who looked upon that fearsome facehad little thought for the costume of its owner.
The game was brought to a sudden interruption, for the cabin door wasswung rudely open, and two rough fellows--Israel Martin, the boatswain,and Red Foley, the gunner--rushed into the cabin. In an instant Sharkeywas on his feet with a pistol in either hand and murder in his eyes.
"Sink you for villains!" he cried. "I see well that if I do not shootone of you from time to time you will forget the man I am. What mean youby entering my cabin as though it were a Wapping alehouse?"
"Nay, Captain Sharkey," said Martin, with a sullen frown upon hisbrick-red face, "it is even such talk as this which has set us by theears. We have had enough of it."
"And more than enough," said Red Foley, the gunner. "There be no matesaboard a pirate craft, and so the boatswain, the gunner, and thequartermaster are the officers."
"Did I gainsay it?" asked Sharkey with an oath.
"You have miscalled us and mishandled us before the men, and we scarceknow at this moment why we should risk our lives in fighting for thecabin and against the foc'sle."
Sharkey saw that something serious was in the wind. He laid down hispistols and leaned back in his chair with a flash of his yellow fangs.
"Nay, this is sad talk," said he, "that two stout fellows who haveemptied many a bottle and cut many a throat with me, should now fall outover nothing. I know you to be roaring boys who would go with me againstthe devil himself if I bid you. Let the steward bring cups and drown allunkindness between us."
"It is no time for drinking, Captain Sharkey," said Martin. "The men areholding council round the mainmast, and may be aft at any minute. Theymean mischief, Captain Sharkey, and we have come to warn you."
Sharkey sprang for the brass-handled sword which hung from the wall.
"Sink them for rascals!" he cried. "When I have gutted one or two ofthem they may hear reason."
But the others barred his frantic way to the door.
"There are forty of them under the lead of Sweetlocks, the master," saidMartin, "and on the open deck they would surely cut you to pieces. Herewithin the cabin it may be that we can hold them off at the points ofour pistols." He had hardly spoken when there came the tread of manyheavy feet upon the deck. Then there was a pause with no sound but thegentle lapping of the water against the sides of the pirate vessel.Finally, a crashing blow as from a pistol-butt fell upon the door, andan instant afterwards Sweetlocks himself, a tall, dark man, with a deepred birth-mark blazing upon his cheek, strode into the cabin. Hisswaggering air sank somewhat as he looked into those pale and filmyeyes.
"Captain Sharkey," said he, "I come as spokesman of the crew."
"So I have heard, Sweetlocks," said the captain, softly. "I may live torip you the length of your vest for this night's work."
"That is as it may be, Captain Sharkey," the master answered, "but ifyou will look up you will see that I have those at my back who will notsee me mishandled."
"Cursed if we do!" growled a deep voice from above, and glancing upwardsthe officers in the cabin were aware of a line of fierce, bearded,sun-blackened faces looking down at them through the open skylight.
"Well, what would you have?" asked Sharkey. "Put it in words, man, andlet us have an end of it."
"The men think," said Sweetlocks, "that you are the devil himself, andthat there will be no luck for them whilst they sail the sea in suchcompany. Time was when we did our two or three craft a day, and everyman had women and dollars to his liking, but now for a long week we havenot raised a sail, and save for three beggarly sloops, have taken nevera vessel since we passed the Bahama Bank. Also, they know that youkilled Jack Bartholomew, the carpenter, by beating his head in with abucket, so that each of us goes in fear of his life. Also, the rum hasgiven out, and we are hard put to it for liquor. Also, you sit in yourcabin whilst it is in the articles that you should drink and roar withthe crew. For all these reasons it has been this day in general meetingdecreed----"
Sharkey had stealthily cocked a pistol under the table, so it may havebeen as well for the mutinous master that he never reached the end ofhis discourse, for even as he came to it there was a swift patter offeet upon the deck, and a ship lad, wild with his tidings, rushed intothe room.
"A craft!" he yelled. "A great craft, and close aboard us!"
In a flash the quarrel was forgotten, and the pirates were rushing toquarters. Sure enough, surging slowly down before the gentle trade-wind,a great full-rigged ship, with all sail set, was close beside them.
It was clear that she had come from afar and knew nothing of the ways ofthe Caribbean Sea, for she made no effort to avoid the low, dark craftwhich lay so close upon her bow, but blundered on as if her mere sizewould avail her.
So daring was she, that for an instant the Rovers, as they flew to loosethe tackles of their guns, and hoisted their battle-lanterns, believedthat a man-of-war had caught them napping.
But at the sight of her bulging, portless sides and merchant rig a shoutof exultation broke from amongst them, and in an instant they had swunground their fore-yard, and darting alongside they had grappled with herand flung a spray of shrieking, cursing ruffians upon her deck.
Half a dozen seamen of the night-watch were cut down where they stood,the mate was felled by Sharkey and tossed overboard by Ned Galloway, andbefore the sleepers had time to sit up in their berths, the vessel wasin the hands of the pirates.
The prize proved to be the full-rigged ship _Portobello_--Captain Hardy,master--bound from London to Kingston in Jamaica, with a cargo of cottongoods and hoop-iron.
Having secured their prisoners, all huddled together in a dazed,distracted group, the pirates spread over the vessel in search ofplunder, handing all that was found to the giant quartermaster, who inturn passed it over the side of the _Happy Delivery_ and laid it underguard at the foot of her mainmast.
The cargo was useless, but there were a thousand guineas in the ship'sstrong-box, and there were some eight or ten passengers, three of themwealthy Jamaica merchants, all bringing home well-filled boxes fromtheir London visit.
When all the plunder was gathered, the passengers and crew were draggedto the waist, and under the cold smile of Sharkey each in turn wasthrown over the side--Sweetlocks standing by the rail and hamstringingthem with his cutlass as they passed over, lest some strong swimmershould rise in judgment against them. A portly, grey-haired woman, thewife of one of the planters, was among the captives, but she also wasthrust screaming and clutching over the side.
"Mercy, you hussy!" neighed Sharkey, "you are surely a good twentyyears too old for that."
The captain of the _Portobello_, a hale, blue-eyed grey-beard, was thelast upon the deck. He stood, a thick-set resolute figure, in the glareof the lanterns, while Sharkey bowed and smirked before him.
"One skipper should show courtesy to another," said he, "and sink me ifCaptain Sharkey would be behind in good manners! I have held you to thelast, as you see, where a brave man should be; so now, my bully, youhave seen the end of them, and may step over with an easy mind."
"So I shall, Captain Sharkey," said the old seaman, "for I have done myduty so far as my power lay. But before I go over I would say a word inyour ear."
"If it be to soften me, you may save your breath. You have kept uswaiting here for three days, and curse me if one of you shall live!"
"Nay, it is to tell you what you should know. You have not yet foundwhat is the true treasure aboard of this ship."
"Not found it? Sink me, but I will slice your liver, Captain Hardy, ifyou do not make good your words! Where is this treasure you speak of?"
"It is not a treasure of gold, but it is a fair maid, which may be noless welcome."
"Where is she, then? And why was she not with the others?"
"I will tell you why she was not with the others. She is the onlydaughter of the Count and Countess Ramirez, who are amongst those whomyou have murdered. Her name is Inez Ramirez, and she is of the bestblood of Spain, her father being Governor of Chagre, to which he was nowbound. It chanced that she was found to have formed an attachment, asmaids will, to one far beneath her in rank aboard this ship; so herparents, being people of great power, whose word is not to be gainsaid,constrained me to confine her close in a special cabin aft of my own.Here she was held straitly, all food being carried to her, and sheallowed to see no one. This I tell you as a last gift, though why Ishould make it to you I do not know, for indeed you are a most bloodyrascal, and it comforts me in dying to think that you will surely begallow's-meat in this world, and hell's-meat in the next."
At the words he ran to the rail, and vaulted over into the darkness,praying as he sank into the depths of the sea, that the betrayal of thismaid might not be counted too heavily against his soul.
The body of Captain Hardy had not yet settled upon the sand fortyfathoms deep before the pirates had rushed along the cabin gangway.There, sure enough, at the further end, was a barred door, overlooked intheir previous search. There was no key, but they beat it in with theirgunstocks, whilst shriek after shriek came from within. In the light oftheir outstretched, lanterns they saw a young woman, in the very primeand fullness of her youth, crouching in a corner, her unkempt hairhanging to the ground, her dark eyes glaring with fear, her lovely formstraining away in horror from this inrush of savage blood-stained men.Rough hands seized her, she was jerked to her feet, and dragged withscream on scream to where John Sharkey awaited her. He held the lightlong and fondly to her face, then, laughing loudly, he bent forward andleft his red hand-print upon her cheek.
"'Tis the rovers' brand, lass, that he marks his ewes. Take her to thecabin and use her well. Now, hearties, get her under water, and out toour luck once more."
Within an hour the good ship _Portobello_ had settled down to her doom,till she lay beside her murdered passengers upon the Caribbean sand,while the pirate barque, her deck littered with plunder, was headingnorthward in search of another victim.
There was a carouse that night in the cabin of the _Happy Delivery_, atwhich three men drank deep. They were the captain, the quartermaster,and Baldy Stable, the surgeon, a man who had held the first practice inCharleston, until, misusing a patient, he fled from justice, and tookhis skill over to the pirates. A bloated fat man he was, with a creasedneck and a great shining scalp, which gave him his name. Sharkey had putfor the moment all thought of mutiny out of his head, knowing that noanimal is fierce when it is over-fed, and that whilst the plunder of thegreat ship was new to them he need fear no trouble from his crew. Hegave himself up, therefore, to the wine and the riot, shouting androaring with his boon companions. All three were flushed and mad, ripefor any devilment, when the thought of the woman crossed the pirate'sevil mind. He yelled to the negro steward that he should bring her onthe instant.
Inez Ramirez had now realised it all--the death of her father andmother, and her own position in the hands of their murderers. Yetcalmness had come with the knowledge, and there was no sig
n of terror inher proud, dark face as she was led into the cabin, but rather astrange, firm set of the mouth and an exultant gleam of the eyes, likeone who sees great hopes in the future. She smiled at the pirate captainas he rose and seized her by the waist.
"'Fore God! this is a lass of spirit," cried Sharkey; passing his armround her. "She was born to be a Rover's bride. Come, my bird, and drinkto our better friendship."
"Article Six!" hiccoughed the doctor. "All _bona robas_ in common."
"Aye! we hold you to that, Captain Sharkey," said Galloway. "It is sowrit in Article Six."
"I will cut the man into ounces who comes betwixt us!" cried Sharkey, ashe turned his fish-like eyes from one to the other. "Nay, lass, the manis not born that will take you from John Sharkey. Sit here upon my knee,and place your arm round me so. Sink me, if she has not learned to loveme at sight! Tell me, my pretty, why you were so mishandled and laid inthe bilboes aboard yonder craft?"
The woman shook her head and smiled. "No Inglese--no Inglese," shelisped. She had drunk off the bumper of wine which Sharkey held to her,and her dark eyes gleamed more brightly than before. Sitting onSharkey's knee, her arm encircled his neck, and her hand toyed with hishair, his ear, his cheek. Even the strange quartermaster and thehardened surgeon felt a horror as they watched her, but Sharkey laughedin his joy. "Curse me, if she is not a lass of metal!" he cried, as hepressed her to him and kissed her unresisting lips.
But a strange intent look of interest had come into the surgeon's eyesas he watched her, and his face set rigidly, as if a fearsome thoughthad entered his mind. There stole a grey pallor over his bull face,mottling all the red of the tropics and the flush of the wine.
"Look at her hand, Captain Sharkey!" he cried. "For the Lord's sake,look at her hand!"
Sharkey stared down at the hand which had fondled him. It was of astrange dead pallor, with a yellow shiny web betwixt the fingers. Allover it was a white fluffy dust, like the flour of a new-baked loaf. Itlay thick on Sharkey's neck and cheek. With a cry he flung the womanfrom his lap; but in an instant, with a wild-cat bound, and a scream oftriumphant malice, she had sprung at the surgeon, who vanished yellingunder the table. One of her clawing hands grasped Galloway by the beard,but he tore himself away, and snatching a pike, held her off from him asshe gibbered and mowed with the blazing eyes of a maniac.
The black steward had run in on the sudden turmoil, and among them theyforced the mad creature back into the cabin and turned the key upon her.Then the three sank panting into their chairs and looked with eyes ofhorror upon each other. The same word was in the mind of each, butGalloway was the first to speak it.
"A leper!" he cried. "She has us all, curse her!"
"Not me," said the surgeon; "she never laid her finger on me."
"For that matter," cried Galloway, "it was but my beard that shetouched. I will have every hair of it off before morning."
"Dolts that we are!" the surgeon shouted, beating his head with-hishand. "Tainted or no, we shall never know a moment's peace till the yearis up and the time of danger past. 'Fore God, that merchant skipper hasleft his mark on us, and pretty fools we were to think that such a maidwould be quarantined for the cause he gave. It is easy to see now thather corruption broke forth in the journey, and that save throwing herover they had no choice but to board her up until they should come tosome port with a lazarette."
Sharkey had sat leaning back in his chair with a ghastly face while helistened to the surgeon's words. He mopped himself with his redhandkerchief, and wiped away the fatal dust with which he was smeared.
"What of me?" he croaked. "What say you, Baldy Stable? Is there a chancefor me? Curse you for a villain! speak out, or I will drub you within aninch of your life, and that inch also! Is there a chance for me, I say!"
But the surgeon shook his head. "Captain Sharkey," said he, "it would bean ill deed to speak you false. The taint is on you. No man on whom theleper scales have rested is ever clean again."
Sharkey's head fell forward on his chest, and he sat motionless,stricken by this great and sudden horror, looking with his smoulderingeyes into his fearsome future. Softly the mate and the surgeon rose fromtheir places, and stealing out from the poisoned air of the cabin, cameforth into the freshness of the early dawn, with the soft, scent-ladenbreeze in their faces and the first red feathers of cloud catching theearliest gleam of the rising sun as it shot its golden rays over thepalm-clad ridges of distant Hispaniola.
That morning a second council of the Rovers was held at the base of themainmast, and a deputation chosen to see the captain. They wereapproaching the after-cabins when Sharkey came forth, the old devil inhis eyes, and his bandolier with a pair of pistols over his shoulder.
"Sink you all for villains!" he cried. "Would you dare cross my hawse?Stand out, Sweetlocks, and I will lay you open! Here, Galloway, Martin,Foley, stand by me and lash the dogs to their kennel!"
But his officers had deserted him, and there was none to come to hisaid. There was a rush of the pirates. One was shot through the body, butan instant afterwards Sharkey had been seized and was triced to his ownmainmast. His filmy eyes looked round from face to face, and there wasnone who felt the happier for having met them.
"Captain Sharkey," said Sweetlocks, "you have mishandled many of us, andyou have now pistolled John Masters, besides killing Bartholomew, thecarpenter, by braining him with a bucket. All this might have beenforgiven you, in that you have been our leader for years, and that wehave signed articles to serve under you while the voyage lasts. But nowwe have heard of this _bona roba_ on board, and we know that you arepoisoned to the marrow, and that while you rot there will be no safetyfor any of us, but that we shall all be turned into filth andcorruption. Therefore, John Sharkey, we Rovers of the _Happy Delivery_,in council assembled, have decreed that while there be yet time, beforethe plague spreads, you shall be set adrift in a boat to find such afate as Fortune may be pleased to send you."
John Sharkey said nothing, but slowly circling his head, he cursed themall with his baleful gaze. The ship's dinghy had been lowered, and he,with his hands still tied, was dropped into it on the bight of a rope.
"Cast her off!" cried Sweetlocks.
"Nay, hold hard a moment, Master Sweetlocks!" shouted one of the crew."What of the wench? Is she to bide aboard and poison us all?"
"Send her off with her mate!" cried another, and the Rovers roared theirapproval. Driven forth at the end of pikes, the girl was pushed towardsthe boat. With all the spirit of Spain in her rotting body she flashedtriumphant glances on her captors.
"Perros! Perros Ingleses! Lepero, Lepero!" she cried in exultation, asthey thrust her over into the boat.
"Good luck, captain! God speed you on your honeymoon!" cried a chorus ofmocking voices, as the painter was unloosed, and the _Happy Delivery_,running full before the trade-wind, left the little boat astern, a tinydot upon the vast expanse of the lonely sea.
* * * * *
Extract from the log of H.M. fifty-gun ship _Hecate_ in her cruise offthe American Main.
"_Jan. 26, 1721._--This day, the junk having become unfit for food, and five of the crew down with scurvy, I ordered that we send two boats ashore at the nor'-western point of Hispaniola, to seek for fresh fruit, and perchance shoot some of the wild oxen with which the island abounds.
"_7 p.m._--The boats have returned with good store of green stuff and two bullocks. Mr. Woodruff, the master, reports that near the landing-place at the edge of the forest was found the skeleton of a woman, clad in European dress, of such sort as to show that she may have been a person of quality. Her head had been crushed by a great stone which lay beside her. Hard by was a grass hut, and signs that a man had dwelt therein for some time, as was shown by charred wood, bones and other traces. There is a rumour upon the coast that Sharkey, the bloody pirate, was marooned in these parts last year, but whether he has made his way into the interior, or w
hether he has been picked up by some craft, there is no means of knowing. If he be once again afloat, then I pray that God send him under our guns."