CHAPTER XIX. THE MEETING
As the door slammed after the departing Admiral, Lord Julian turned toArabella, and actually smiled. He felt that he was doing better, andgathered from it an almost childish satisfaction--childish in all thecircumstances. "Decidedly I think I had the last word there," he said,with a toss of his golden ringlets.
Miss Bishop, seated at the cabin-table, looked at him steadily, withoutreturning his smile. "Does it matter, then, so much, having the lastword? I am thinking of those poor fellows on the Royal Mary. Many ofthem have had their last word, indeed. And for what? A fine ship sunk,a score of lives lost, thrice that number now in jeopardy, and all forwhat?"
"You are overwrought, ma'am. I...."
"Overwrought!" She uttered a single sharp note of laughter. "I assureyou I am calm. I am asking you a question, Lord Julian. Why has thisSpaniard done all this? To what purpose?"
"You heard him." Lord Julian shrugged angrily. "Blood-lust," heexplained shortly.
"Blood-lust?" she asked. She was amazed. "Does such a thing exist, then?It is insane, monstrous."
"Fiendish," his lordship agreed. "Devil's work."
"I don't understand. At Bridgetown three years ago there was a Spanishraid, and things were done that should have been impossible to men,horrible, revolting things which strain belief, which seem, when Ithink of them now, like the illusions of some evil dream. Are men justbeasts?"
"Men?" said Lord Julian, staring. "Say Spaniards, and I'll agree."He was an Englishman speaking of hereditary foes. And yet there was ameasure of truth in what he said. "This is the Spanish way in the NewWorld. Faith, almost it justifies such men as Blood of what they do."
She shivered, as if cold, and setting her elbows on the table, she tookher chin in her hands, and sat staring before her.
Observing her, his lordship noticed how drawn and white her face hadgrown. There was reason enough for that, and for worse. Not any otherwoman of his acquaintance would have preserved her self-control in suchan ordeal; and of fear, at least, at no time had Miss Bishop shown anysign. It is impossible that he did not find her admirable.
A Spanish steward entered bearing a silver chocolate service and a boxof Peruvian candies, which he placed on the table before the lady.
"With the Admiral's homage," he said, then bowed, and withdrew.
Miss Bishop took no heed of him or his offering, but continued to starebefore her, lost in thought. Lord Julian took a turn in the long lowcabin, which was lighted by a skylight above and great square windowsastern. It was luxuriously appointed: there were rich Eastern rugs onthe floor, well-filled bookcases stood against the bulkheads, and therewas a carved walnut sideboard laden with silverware. On a long, lowchest standing under the middle stern port lay a guitar that was gaywith ribbons. Lord Julian picked it up, twanged the strings once as ifmoved by nervous irritation, and put it down.
He turned again to face Miss Bishop.
"I came out here," he said, "to put down piracy. But--blister me!--Ibegin to think that the French are right in desiring piracy to continueas a curb upon these Spanish scoundrels."
He was to be strongly confirmed in that opinion before many hourswere past. Meanwhile their treatment at the hands of Don Miguel wasconsiderate and courteous. It confirmed the opinion, contemptuouslyexpressed to his lordship by Miss Bishop, that since they were to beheld to ransom they need not fear any violence or hurt. A cabin wasplaced at the disposal of the lady and her terrified woman, and anotherat Lord Julian's. They were given the freedom of the ship, and bidden todine at the Admiral's table; nor were his further intentions regardingthem mentioned, nor yet his immediate destination.
The Milagrosa, with her consort the Hidalga rolling after her, steereda south by westerly course, then veered to the southeast round CapeTiburon, and thereafter, standing well out to sea, with the land no morethan a cloudy outline to larboard, she headed directly east, and so ranstraight into the arms of Captain Blood, who was making for the WindwardPassage, as we know. That happened early on the following morning. Afterhaving systematically hunted his enemy in vain for a year, Don Miguelchanced upon him in this unexpected and entirely fortuitous fashion. Butthat is the ironic way of Fortune. It was also the way of Fortune thatDon Miguel should thus come upon the Arabella at a time when, separatedfrom the rest of the fleet, she was alone and at a disadvantage. Itlooked to Don Miguel as if the luck which so long had been on Blood'sside had at last veered in his own favour.
Miss Bishop, newly risen, had come out to take the air on thequarter-deck with his lordship in attendance--as you would expect of sogallant a gentleman--when she beheld the big red ship that had once beenthe Cinco Llagas out of Cadiz. The vessel was bearing down upon them,her mountains of snowy canvas bellying forward, the long pennon withthe cross of St. George fluttering from her main truck in the morningbreeze, the gilded portholes in her red hull and the gilded beak-headaflash in the morning sun.
Miss Bishop was not to recognize this for that same Cinco Llagas whichshe had seen once before--on a tragic day in Barbados three yearsago. To her it was just a great ship that was heading resolutely,majestically, towards them, and an Englishman to judge by the pennonshe was flying. The sight thrilled her curiously; it awoke in her anuplifting sense of pride that took no account of the danger to herselfin the encounter that must now be inevitable.
Beside her on the poop, whither they had climbed to obtain a betterview, and equally arrested and at gaze, stood Lord Julian. But he sharednone of her exultation. He had been in his first sea-fight yesterday,and he felt that the experience would suffice him for a veryconsiderable time. This, I insist, is no reflection upon his courage.
"Look," said Miss Bishop, pointing; and to his infinite amazement heobserved that her eyes were sparkling. Did she realize, he wondered,what was afoot? Her next sentence resolved his doubt. "She is English,and she comes resolutely on. She means to fight."
"God help her, then," said his lordship gloomily. "Her captain must bemad. What can he hope to do against two such heavy hulks as these? Ifthey could so easily blow the Royal Mary out of the water, what willthey do to this vessel? Look at that devil Don Miguel. He's utterlydisgusting in his glee."
From the quarter-deck, where he moved amid the frenzy of preparation,the Admiral had turned to flash a backward glance at his prisoners. Hiseyes were alight, his face transfigured. He flung out an arm to pointto the advancing ship, and bawled something in Spanish that was lost tothem in the noise of the labouring crew.
They advanced to the poop-rail, and watched the bustle. Telescope inhand on the quarter-deck, Don Miguel was issuing his orders. Already thegunners were kindling their matches; sailors were aloft, taking in sail;others were spreading a stout rope net above the waist, as a protectionagainst falling spars. And meanwhile Don Miguel had been signalling tohis consort, in response to which the Hidalga had drawn steadilyforward until she was now abeam of the Milagrosa, half cable's length tostarboard, and from the height of the tall poop my lord and Miss Bishopcould see her own bustle of preparation. And they could discern signs ofit now aboard the advancing English ship as well. She was furling topsand mainsail, stripping in fact to mizzen and sprit for the comingaction. Thus, almost silently without challenge or exchange of signals,had action been mutually determined.
Of necessity now, under diminished sail, the advance of the Arabella wasslower; but it was none the less steady. She was already within sakershot, and they could make out the figures stirring on her forecastle andthe brass guns gleaming on her prow. The gunners of the Milagrosa raisedtheir linstocks and blew upon their smouldering matches, looking upimpatiently at the Admiral.
But the Admiral solemnly shook his head.
"Patience," he exhorted them. "Save your fire until we have him. He iscoming straight to his doom--straight to the yardarm and the rope thathave been so long waiting for him."
"Stab me!" said his lordship. "This Englishman may be gallant enough toaccept battle against such odds. But there are times when dis
cretion isa better quality than gallantry in a commander."
"Gallantry will often win through, even against overwhelming strength,"said Miss Bishop. He looked at her, and noted in her bearing onlyexcitement. Of fear he could still discern no trace. His lordship waspast amazement. She was not by any means the kind of woman to which lifehad accustomed him.
"Presently," he said, "you will suffer me to place you under cover."
"I can see best from here," she answered him. And added quietly: "I ampraying for this Englishman. He must be very brave."
Under his breath Lord Julian damned the fellow's bravery.
The Arabella was advancing now along a course which, if continued, mustcarry her straight between the two Spanish ships. My lord pointedit out. "He's crazy surely!" he cried. "He's driving straight into adeath-trap. He'll be crushed to splinters between the two. No wonderthat black-faced Don is holding his fire. In his place, I should do thesame."
But even at that moment the Admiral raised his hand; in the waist, belowhim, a trumpet blared, and immediately the gunner on the prow touchedoff his guns. As the thunder of them rolled out, his lordship saw aheadbeyond the English ship and to larboard of her two heavy splashes.Almost at once two successive spurts of flame leapt from the brasscannon on the Arabella's beak-head, and scarcely had the watchers on thepoop seen the shower of spray, where one of the shots struck thewater near them, then with a rending crash and a shiver that shook theMilagrosa from stem to stern, the other came to lodge in her forecastle.To avenge that blow, the Hidalga blazed at the Englishman with bothher forward guns. But even at that short range--between two and threehundred yards--neither shot took effect.
At a hundred yards the Arabella's forward guns, which had meanwhilebeen reloaded, fired again at the Milagrosa, and this time smashed herbowsprit into splinters; so that for a moment she yawed wildly to port.Don Miguel swore profanely, and then, as the helm was put over to swingher back to her course, his own prow replied. But the aim was too high,and whilst one of the shots tore through the Arabella's shrouds andscarred her mainmast, the other again went wide. And when the smoke ofthat discharge had lifted, the English ship was found almost between theSpaniards, her bows in line with theirs and coming steadily on into whathis lordship deemed a death-trap.
Lord Julian held his breath, and Miss Bishop gasped, clutching therail before her. She had a glimpse of the wickedly grinning face of DonMiguel, and the grinning faces of the men at the guns in the waist.
At last the Arabella was right between the Spanish ships prow to poopand poop to prow. Don Miguel spoke to the trumpeter, who had mounted thequarter-deck and stood now at the Admiral's elbow. The man raised thesilver bugle that was to give the signal for the broadsides of bothships. But even as he placed it to his lips, the Admiral seized his arm,to arrest him. Only then had he perceived what was so obvious--or shouldhave been to an experienced sea-fighter: he had delayed too long andCaptain Blood had outmanoeuvred him. In attempting to fire now upon theEnglishman, the Milagrosa and her consort would also be firing into eachother. Too late he ordered his helmsman to put the tiller hard over andswing the ship to larboard, as a preliminary to manoeuvring for a lessimpossible position of attack. At that very moment the Arabella seemedto explode as she swept by. Eighteen guns from each of her flanksemptied themselves at that point-blank range into the hulls of the twoSpanish vessels.
Half stunned by that reverberating thunder, and thrown off her balanceby the sudden lurch of the ship under her feet, Miss Bishop hurtledviolently against Lord Julian, who kept his feet only by clutchingthe rail on which he had been leaning. Billowing clouds of smoke tostarboard blotted out everything, and its acrid odour, taking thempresently in the throat, set them gasping and coughing.
From the grim confusion and turmoil in the waist below arose a clamourof fierce Spanish blasphemies and the screams of maimed men. TheMilagrosa staggered slowly ahead, a gaping rent in her bulwarks; herforemast was shattered, fragments of the yards hanging in the nettingspread below. Her beak-head was in splinters, and a shot had smashedthrough into the great cabin, reducing it to wreckage.
Don Miguel was bawling orders wildly, and peering ever and anon throughthe curtain of smoke that was drifting slowly astern, in his anxiety toascertain how it might have fared with the Hidalga.
Suddenly, and ghostly at first through that lifting haze, loomed theoutline of a ship; gradually the lines of her red hull became more andmore sharply defined as she swept nearer with poles all bare save forthe spread of canvas on her sprit.
Instead of holding to her course as Don Miguel had expected she would,the Arabella had gone about under cover of the smoke, and sailing nowin the same direction as the Milagrosa, was converging sharply upon heracross the wind, so sharply that almost before the frenzied Don Miguelhad realized the situation, his vessel staggered under the rendingimpact with which the other came hurtling alongside. There was a rattleand clank of metal as a dozen grapnels fell, and tore and caught in thetimbers of the Milagrosa, and the Spaniard was firmly gripped in thetentacles of the English ship.
Beyond her and now well astern the veil of smoke was rent at last andthe Hidalga was revealed in desperate case. She was bilging fast, withan ominous list to larboard, and it could be no more than a question ofmoments before she settled down. The attention of her hands was beingentirely given to a desperate endeavour to launch the boats in time.
Of this Don Miguel's anguished eyes had no more than a fleeting butcomprehensive glimpse before his own decks were invaded by a wild,yelling swarm of boarders from the grappling ship. Never was confidenceso quickly changed into despair, never was hunter more swiftly convertedinto helpless prey. For helpless the Spaniards were. The swiftlyexecuted boarding manoeuvre had caught them almost unawares in themoment of confusion following the punishing broadside they had sustainedat such short range. For a moment there was a valiant effort by someof Don Miguel's officers to rally the men for a stand against theseinvaders. But the Spaniards, never at their best in close-quarterfighting, were here demoralized by knowledge of the enemies with whomthey had to deal. Their hastily formed ranks were smashed before theycould be steadied; driven across the waist to the break of the poopon the one side, and up to the forecastle bulkheads on the other, thefighting resolved itself into a series of skirmishes between groups. Andwhilst this was doing above, another horde of buccaneers swarmed throughthe hatch to the main deck below to overpower the gun-crews at theirstations there.
On the quarter deck, towards which an overwhelming wave of buccaneerswas sweeping, led by a one-eyed giant, who was naked to the waist, stoodDon Miguel, numbed by despair and rage. Above and behind him on thepoop, Lord Julian and Miss Bishop looked on, his lordship aghast at thefury of this cooped-up fighting, the lady's brave calm conquered at lastby horror so that she reeled there sick and faint.
Soon, however, the rage of that brief fight was spent. They saw thebanner of Castile come fluttering down from the masthead. A buccaneerhad slashed the halyard with his cutlass. The boarders were inpossession, and on the upper deck groups of disarmed Spaniards stoodhuddled now like herded sheep.
Suddenly Miss Bishop recovered from her nausea, to lean forward staringwild-eyed, whilst if possible her cheeks turned yet a deadlier hue thanthey had been already.
Picking his way daintily through that shambles in the waist came a tallman with a deeply tanned face that was shaded by a Spanish headpiece. Hewas armed in back-and-breast of black steel beautifully damascened withgolden arabesques. Over this, like a stole, he wore a sling of scarletsilk, from each end of which hung a silver-mounted pistol. Up the broadcompanion to the quarter-deck he came, toying with easy assurance, untilhe stood before the Spanish Admiral. Then he bowed stiff and formally.A crisp, metallic voice, speaking perfect Spanish, reached those twospectators on the poop, and increased the admiring wonder in which LordJulian had observed the man's approach.
"We meet again at last, Don Miguel," it said. "I hope you are satisfied.Although the meeting may not be
exactly as you pictured it, at least ithas been very ardently sought and desired by you."
Speechless, livid of face, his mouth distorted and his breathinglaboured, Don Miguel de Espinosa received the irony of that man to whomhe attributed his ruin and more beside. Then he uttered an inarticulatecry of rage, and his hand swept to his sword. But even as his fingersclosed upon the hilt, the other's closed upon his wrist to arrest theaction.
"Calm, Don Miguel!" he was quietly but firmly enjoined. "Do notrecklessly invite the ugly extremes such as you would, yourself, havepractised had the situation been reversed."
A moment they stood looking into each other's eyes.
"What do you intend by me?" the Spaniard enquired at last, his voicehoarse.
Captain Blood shrugged. The firm lips smiled a little. "All that Iintend has been already accomplished. And lest it increase your rancour,I beg you to observe that you have brought it entirely upon yourself.You would have it so." He turned and pointed to the boats, which his menwere heaving from the boom amidships. "Your boats are being launched.You are at liberty to embark in them with your men before we scuttlethis ship. Yonder are the shores of Hispaniola. You should make themsafely. And if you'll take my advice, sir, you'll not hunt me again.I think I am unlucky to you. Get you home to Spain, Don Miguel, and toconcerns that you understand better than this trade of the sea."
For a long moment the defeated Admiral continued to stare his hatredin silence, then, still without speaking, he went down the companion,staggering like a drunken man, his useless rapier clattering behind him.His conqueror, who had not even troubled to disarm him, watched him go,then turned and faced those two immediately above him on the poop. LordJulian might have observed, had he been less taken up with other things,that the fellow seemed suddenly to stiffen, and that he turned paleunder his deep tan. A moment he stood at gaze; then suddenly and swiftlyhe came up the steps. Lord Julian stood forward to meet him.
"Ye don't mean, sir, that you'll let that Spanish scoundrel go free?" hecried.
The gentleman in the black corselet appeared to become aware of hislordship for the first time.
"And who the devil may you be?" he asked, with a marked Irish accent."And what business may it be of yours, at all?"
His lordship conceived that the fellow's truculence and utter lackof proper deference must be corrected. "I am Lord Julian Wade," heannounced, with that object.
Apparently the announcement made no impression.
"Are you, indeed! Then perhaps ye'll explain what the plague you'redoing aboard this ship?"
Lord Julian controlled himself to afford the desired explanation. He didso shortly and impatiently.
"He took you prisoner, did he--along with Miss Bishop there?"
"You are acquainted with Miss Bishop?" cried his lordship, passing fromsurprise to surprise.
But this mannerless fellow had stepped past him, and was making a legto the lady, who on her side remained unresponsive and forbidding tothe point of scorn. Observing this, he turned to answer Lord Julian'squestion.
"I had that honour once," said he. "But it seems that Miss Bishop has ashorter memory."
His lips were twisted into a wry smile, and there was pain in the blueeyes that gleamed so vividly under his black brows, pain blending withthe mockery of his voice. But of all this it was the mockery alone thatwas perceived by Miss Bishop; she resented it.
"I do not number thieves and pirates among my acquaintance, CaptainBlood," said she; whereupon his lordship exploded in excitement.
"Captain Blood!" he cried. "Are you Captain Blood?"
"What else were ye supposing?"
Blood asked the question wearily, his mind on other things. "I do notnumber thieves and pirates among my acquaintance." The cruel phrasefilled his brain, reechoing and reverberating there.
But Lord Julian would not be denied. He caught him by the sleevewith one hand, whilst with the other he pointed after the retreating,dejected figure of Don Miguel.
"Do I understand that ye're not going to hang that Spanish scoundrel?"
"What for should I be hanging him?"
"Because he's just a damned pirate, as I can prove, as I have provedalready."
"Ah!" said Blood, and Lord Julian marvelled at the sudden haggardness ofa countenance that had been so devil-may-care but a few moments since."I am a damned pirate, myself; and so I am merciful with my kind. DonMiguel goes free."
Lord Julian gasped. "After what I've told you that he has done? Afterhis sinking of the Royal Mary? After his treatment of me--of us?" LordJulian protested indignantly.
"I am not in the service of England, or of any nation, sir. And I am notconcerned with any wrongs her flag may suffer."
His lordship recoiled before the furious glance that blazed at him outof Blood's haggard face. But the passion faded as swiftly as it hadarisen. It was in a level voice that the Captain added:
"If you'll escort Miss Bishop aboard my ship, I shall be obliged to you.I beg that you'll make haste. We are about to scuttle this hulk."
He turned slowly to depart. But again Lord Julian interposed. Containinghis indignant amazement, his lordship delivered himself coldly. "CaptainBlood, you disappoint me. I had hopes of great things for you."
"Go to the devil," said Captain Blood, turning on his heel, and sodeparted.