Page 29 of Captain Blood


  CHAPTER XXX. THE LAST FIGHT OF THE ARABELLA

  "VHY do you vait, my friend?" growled van der Kuylen.

  "Aye--in God's name!" snapped Willoughby.

  It was the afternoon of that same day, and the two buccaneer shipsrocked gently with idly flapping sails under the lee of the long spitof land forming the great natural harbour of Port Royal, and less than amile from the straits leading into it, which the fort commanded. It wastwo hours and more since they had brought up thereabouts, having creptthither unobserved by the city and by M. de Rivarol's ships, and all thetime the air had been aquiver with the roar of guns from sea and land,announcing that battle was joined between the French and the defendersof Port Royal. That long, inactive waiting was straining the nerves ofboth Lord Willoughby and van der Kuylen.

  "You said you vould show us zome vine dings. Vhere are dese vine dings?"

  Blood faced them, smiling confidently. He was arrayed for battle, inback-and-breast of black steel. "I'll not be trying your patience muchlonger. Indeed, I notice already a slackening in the fire. But it's thisway, now: there's nothing at all to be gained by precipitancy, and adeal to be gained by delaying, as I shall show you, I hope."

  Lord Willoughby eyed him suspiciously. "Ye think that in the meantimeBishop may come back or Admiral van der Kuylen's fleet appear?"

  "Sure, now, I'm thinking nothing of the kind. What I'm thinking is thatin this engagement with the fort M. de Rivarol, who's a lubberly fellow,as I've reason to know, will be taking some damage that may make theodds a trifle more even. Sure, it'll be time enough to go forward whenthe fort has shot its bolt."

  "Aye, aye!" The sharp approval came like a cough from the littleGovernor-General. "I perceive your object, and I believe ye're entirelyright. Ye have the qualities of a great commander, Captain Blood. I begyour pardon for having misunderstood you."

  "And that's very handsome of your lordship. Ye see, I have someexperience of this kind of action, and whilst I'll take any risk thatI must, I'll take none that I needn't. But...." He broke off tolisten. "Aye, I was right. The fire's slackening. It'll mean the end ofMallard's resistance in the fort. Ho there, Jeremy!"

  He leaned on the carved rail and issued orders crisply. The bo'sun'spipe shrilled out, and in a moment the ship that had seemed to slumberthere, awoke to life. Came the padding of feet along the decks, thecreaking of blocks and the hoisting of sail. The helm was put overhard, and in a moment they were moving, the Elizabeth following, ever inobedience to the signals from the Arabella, whilst Ogle the gunner,whom he had summoned, was receiving Blood's final instructions beforeplunging down to his station on the main deck.

  Within a quarter of an hour they had rounded the head, and stood in tothe harbour mouth, within saker shot of Rivarol's three ships, to whichthey now abruptly disclosed themselves.

  Where the fort had stood they now beheld a smoking rubbish heap, and thevictorious Frenchman with the lily standard trailing from his mastheadswas sweeping forward to snatch the rich prize whose defences he hadshattered.

  Blood scanned the French ships, and chuckled. The Victorieuse and theMedusa appeared to have taken no more than a few scars; but the thirdship, the Baleine, listing heavily to larboard so as to keep the greatgash in her starboard well above water, was out of account.

  "You see!" he cried to van der Kuylen, and without waiting for theDutchman's approving grunt, he shouted an order: "Helm, hard-a-port!"

  The sight of that great red ship with her gilt beak-head and openports swinging broadside on must have given check to Rivarol's soaringexultation. Yet before he could move to give an order, before he couldwell resolve what order to give, a volcano of fire and metal burstupon him from the buccaneers, and his decks were swept by the murderousscythe of the broadside. The Arabella held to her course, giving placeto the Elizabeth, which, following closely, executed the same manoeuver.And then whilst still the Frenchmen were confused, panic-stricken byan attack that took them so utterly by surprise, the Arabella had goneabout, and was returning in her tracks, presenting now her larboardguns, and loosing her second broadside in the wake of the first.Came yet another broadside from the Elizabeth and then the Arabella'strumpeter sent a call across the water, which Hagthorpe perfectlyunderstood.

  "On, now, Jeremy!" cried Blood. "Straight into them before they recovertheir wits. Stand by, there! Prepare to board! Hayton ... the grapnels!And pass the word to the gunner in the prow to fire as fast as he canload."

  He discarded his feathered hat, and covered himself with a steelhead-piece, which a negro lad brought him. He meant to lead thisboarding-party in person. Briskly he explained himself to histwo guests. "Boarding is our only chance here. We are too heavilyoutgunned."

  Of this the fullest demonstration followed quickly. The Frenchmenhaving recovered their wits at last, both ships swung broadside on, andconcentrating upon the Arabella as the nearer and heavier and thereforemore immediately dangerous of their two opponents, volleyed upon herjointly at almost the same moment.

  Unlike the buccaneers, who had fired high to cripple their enemies abovedecks, the French fifed low to smash the hull of their assailant. TheArabella rocked and staggered under that terrific hammering, althoughPitt kept her headed towards the French so that she should offer thenarrowest target. For a moment she seemed to hesitate, then she plungedforward again, her beak-head in splinters, her forecastle smashed, and agaping hole forward, that was only just above the water-line. Indeed,to make her safe from bilging, Blood ordered a prompt jettisoning of theforward guns, anchors, and water-casks and whatever else was moveable.

  Meanwhile, the Frenchmen going about, gave the like reception to theElizabeth. The Arabella, indifferently served by the wind, pressedforward to come to grips. But before she could accomplish her object,the Victorieuse had loaded her starboard guns again, and pounded heradvancing enemy with a second broadside at close quarters. Amid thethunder of cannon, the rending of timbers, and the screams of maimedmen, the half-necked Arabella plunged and reeled into the cloud of smokethat concealed her prey, and then from Hayton went up the cry that shewas going down by the head.

  Blood's heart stood still. And then in that very moment of his despair,the blue and gold flank of the Victorieuse loomed through the smoke.But even as he caught that enheartening glimpse he perceived, too, howsluggish now was their advance, and how with every second it grew moresluggish. They must sink before they reached her.

  Thus, with an oath, opined the Dutch Admiral, and from Lord Willoughbythere was a word of blame for Blood's seamanship in having risked allupon this gambler's throw of boarding.

  "There was no other chance!" cried Blood, in broken-hearted frenzy. "Ifye say it was desperate and foolhardy, why, so it was; but the occasionand the means demanded nothing less. I fail within an ace of victory."

  But they had not yet completely failed. Hayton himself, and a score ofsturdy rogues whom his whistle had summoned, were crouching for shelteramid the wreckage of the forecastle with grapnels ready. Within seven oreight yards of the Victorieuse, when their way seemed spent, and theirforward deck already awash under the eyes of the jeering, cheeringFrenchmen, those men leapt up and forward, and hurled their grapnelsacross the chasm. Of the four they flung, two reached the Frenchman'sdecks, and fastened there. Swift as thought itself, was then the actionof those sturdy, experienced buccaneers. Unhesitatingly all threwthemselves upon the chain of one of those grapnels, neglecting theother, and heaved upon it with all their might to warp the shipstogether. Blood, watching from his own quarter-deck, sent out his voicein a clarion call:

  "Musketeers to the prow!"

  The musketeers, at their station at the waist, obeyed him with the speedof men who know that in obedience is the only hope of life. Fifty ofthem dashed forward instantly, and from the ruins of the forecastle theyblazed over the heads of Hayton's men, mowing down the French soldierswho, unable to dislodge the irons, firmly held where they had deeplybitten into the timbers of the Victorieuse, were themselves preparing tofire upo
n the grapnel crew.

  Starboard to starboard the two ships swung against each other with ajarring thud. By then Blood was down in the waist, judging and actingwith the hurricane speed the occasion demanded. Sail had been loweredby slashing away the ropes that held the yards. The advance guard ofboarders, a hundred strong, was ordered to the poop, and his grapnel-menwere posted, and prompt to obey his command at the very moment ofimpact. As a result, the foundering Arabella was literally kept afloatby the half-dozen grapnels that in an instant moored her firmly to theVictorieuse.

  Willoughby and van der Kuylen on the poop had watched in breathlessamazement the speed and precision with which Blood and his desperatecrew had gone to work. And now he came racing up, his bugler soundingthe charge, the main host of the buccaneers following him, whilst thevanguard, led by the gunner Ogle, who had been driven from his guns bywater in the gun-deck, leapt shouting to the prow of the Victorieuse, towhose level the high poop of the water-logged Arabella had sunk. Led nowby Blood himself, they launched themselves upon the French like houndsupon the stag they have brought to bay. After them went others, untilall had gone, and none but Willoughby and the Dutchman were left towatch the fight from the quarter-deck of the abandoned Arabella.

  For fully half-an-hour that battle raged aboard the Frenchman. Beginningin the prow, it surged through the forecastle to the waist, where itreached a climax of fury. The French resisted stubbornly, and they hadthe advantage of numbers to encourage them. But for all their stubbornvalour, they ended by being pressed back and back across the decks thatwere dangerously canted to starboard by the pull of the water-loggedArabella. The buccaneers fought with the desperate fury of men who knowthat retreat is impossible, for there was no ship to which they couldretreat, and here they must prevail and make the Victorieuse their own,or perish.

  And their own they made her in the end, and at a cost of nearly halftheir numbers. Driven to the quarter-deck, the surviving defenders,urged on by the infuriated Rivarol, maintained awhile their desperateresistance. But in the end, Rivarol went down with a bullet in his head,and the French remnant, numbering scarcely a score of whole men, calledfor quarter.

  Even then the labours of Blood's men were not at an end. The Elizabethand the Medusa were tight-locked, and Hagthorpe's followers were beingdriven back aboard their own ship for the second time. Prompt measureswere demanded. Whilst Pitt and his seamen bore their part with thesails, and Ogle went below with a gun-crew, Blood ordered the grapnelsto be loosed at once. Lord Willoughby and the Admiral were alreadyaboard the Victorieuse. As they swung off to the rescue of Hagthorpe,Blood, from the quarter-deck of the conquered vessel, looked his lastupon the ship that had served him so well, the ship that had become tohim almost as a part of himself. A moment she rocked after her release,then slowly and gradually settled down, the water gurgling and eddyingabout her topmasts, all that remained visible to mark the spot where shehad met her death.

  As he stood there, above the ghastly shambles in the waist of theVictorieuse, some one spoke behind him. "I think, Captain Blood, that itis necessary I should beg your pardon for the second time. Never beforehave I seen the impossible made possible by resource and valour, orvictory so gallantly snatched from defeat."

  He turned, and presented to Lord Willoughby a formidable front. Hishead-piece was gone, his breastplate dinted, his right sleeve a raghanging from his shoulder about a naked arm. He was splashed from headto foot with blood, and there was blood from a scalp-wound that he hadtaken matting his hair and mixing with the grime of powder on his faceto render him unrecognizable.

  But from that horrible mask two vivid eyes looked out preternaturallybright, and from those eyes two tears had ploughed each a furrow throughthe filth of his cheeks.

  CHAPTER XXXI. HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR

  When the cost of that victory came to be counted, it was found that ofthree hundred and twenty buccaneers who had left Cartagena with CaptainBlood, a bare hundred remained sound and whole. The Elizabeth hadsuffered so seriously that it was doubtful if she could ever again berendered seaworthy, and Hagthorpe, who had so gallantly commanded herin that last action, was dead. Against this, on the other side of theaccount, stood the facts that, with a far inferior force and by sheerskill and desperate valour, Blood's buccaneers had saved Jamaica frombombardment and pillage, and they had captured the fleet of M. deRivarol, and seized for the benefit of King William the splendidtreasure which she carried.

  It was not until the evening of the following day that van der Kuylen'struant fleet of nine ships came to anchor in the harbour of Port Royal,and its officers, Dutch and English, were made acquainted with theirAdmiral's true opinion of their worth.

  Six ships of that fleet were instantly refitted for sea. There wereother West Indian settlements demanding the visit of inspection of thenew Governor-General, and Lord Willoughby was in haste to sail for theAntilles.

  "And meanwhile," he complained to his Admiral, "I am detained here bythe absence of this fool of a Deputy-Governor."

  "So?" said van der Kuylen. "But vhy should dad dedam you?"

  "That I may break the dog as he deserves, and appoint his successorin some man gifted with a sense of where his duty lies, and with theability to perform it."

  "Aha! But id is not necessary you remain for dat. And he vill require noinsdrucshons, dis one. He vill know how to make Port Royal safe, beddernor you or me."

  "You mean Blood?"

  "Of gourse. Could any man be bedder? You haf seen vhad he can do."

  "You think so, too, eh? Egad! I had thought of it; and, rip me, why not?He's a better man than Morgan, and Morgan was made Governor."

  Blood was sent for. He came, spruce and debonair once more, havingexploited the resources of Port Royal so to render himself. He was atrifle dazzled by the honour proposed to him, when Lord Willoughby madeit known. It was so far beyond anything that he had dreamed, and he wasassailed by doubts of his capacity to undertake so onerous a charge.

  "Damme!" snapped Willoughby, "Should I offer it unless I were satisfiedof your capacity? If that's your only objection...."

  "It is not, my lord. I had counted upon going home, so I had. I amhungry for the green lanes of England." He sighed. "There will beapple-blossoms in the orchards of Somerset."

  "Apple-blossoms!" His lordship's voice shot up like a rocket, andcracked on the word. "What the devil...? Apple-blossoms!" He looked atvan der Kuylen.

  The Admiral raised his brows and pursed his heavy lips. His eyestwinkled humourously in his great face.

  "So!" he said. "Fery boedical!"

  My lord wheeled fiercely upon Captain Blood. "You've a past score towipe out, my man!" he admonished him. "You've done something towards it,I confess; and you've shown your quality in doing it. That's why I offeryou the governorship of Jamaica in His Majesty's name--because I accountyou the fittest man for the office that I have seen."

  Blood bowed low. "Your lordship is very good. But...."

  "Tchah! There's no 'but' to it. If you want your past forgotten, andyour future assured, this is your chance. And you are not to treat itlightly on account of apple-blossoms or any other damned sentimentalnonsense. Your duty lies here, at least for as long as the war lasts.When the war's over, you may get back to Somerset and cider or yournative Ireland and its potheen; but until then you'll make the best ofJamaica and rum."

  Van der Kuylen exploded into laughter. But from Blood the pleasantryelicited no smile. He remained solemn to the point of glumness. Histhoughts were on Miss Bishop, who was somewhere here in this very housein which they stood, but whom he had not seen since his arrival. Had shebut shown him some compassion....

  And then the rasping voice of Willoughby cut in again, upbraiding himfor his hesitation, pointing out to him his incredible stupidity intrifling with such a golden opportunity as this. He stiffened and bowed.

  "My lord, you are in the right. I am a fool. But don't be accountingme an ingrate as well. If I have hesitated, it is because there areconsiderations wit
h which I will not trouble your lordship."

  "Apple-blossoms, I suppose?" sniffed his lordship.

  This time Blood laughed, but there was still a lingering wistfulness inhis eyes.

  "It shall be as you wish--and very gratefully, let me assure yourlordship. I shall know how to earn His Majesty's approbation. You maydepend upon my loyal service.

  "If I didn't, I shouldn't offer you this governorship."

  Thus it was settled. Blood's commission was made out and sealed inthe presence of Mallard, the Commandant, and the other officers ofthe garrison, who looked on in round-eyed astonishment, but kept theirthoughts to themselves.

  "Now ve can aboud our business go," said van der Kuylen.

  "We sail to-morrow morning," his lordship announced.

  Blood was startled.

  "And Colonel Bishop?" he asked.

  "He becomes your affair. You are now the Governor. You will deal withhim as you think proper on his return. Hang him from his own yardarm. Hedeserves it."

  "Isn't the task a trifle invidious?" wondered Blood.

  "Very well. I'll leave a letter for him. I hope he'll like it."

  Captain Blood took up his duties at once. There was much to be done toplace Port Royal in a proper state of defence, after what had happenedthere. He made an inspection of the ruined fort, and issued instructionsfor the work upon it, which was to be started immediately. Next heordered the careening of the three French vessels that they mightbe rendered seaworthy once more. Finally, with the sanction of LordWilloughby, he marshalled his buccaneers and surrendered to them onefifth of the captured treasure, leaving it to their choice thereaftereither to depart or to enrol themselves in the service of King William.

  A score of them elected to remain, and amongst these were Jeremy Pitt,Ogle, and Dyke, whose outlawry, like Blood's, had come to an end withthe downfall of King James. They were--saving old Wolverstone, whohad been left behind at Cartagena--the only survivors of that band ofrebels-convict who had left Barbados over three years ago in the CincoLlagas.

  On the following morning, whilst van der Kuylen's fleet was makingfinally ready for sea, Blood sat in the spacious whitewashed room thatwas the Governor's office, when Major Mallard brought him word thatBishop's homing squadron was in sight.

  "That is very well," said Blood. "I am glad he comes before LordWilloughby's departure. The orders, Major, are that you place him underarrest the moment he steps ashore. Then bring him here to me. A moment."He wrote a hurried note. "That to Lord Willoughby aboard Admiral van derKuylen's flagship."

  Major Mallard saluted and departed. Peter Blood sat back in his chairand stared at the ceiling, frowning. Time moved on. Came a tap at thedoor, and an elderly negro slave presented himself. Would his excellencyreceive Miss Bishop?

  His excellency changed colour. He sat quite still, staring at the negroa moment, conscious that his pulses were drumming in a manner whollyunusual to them. Then quietly he assented.

  He rose when she entered, and if he was not as pale as she was, it wasbecause his tan dissembled it. For a moment there was silence betweenthem, as they stood looking each at the other. Then she moved forward,and began at last to speak, haltingly, in an unsteady voice, amazing inone usually so calm and deliberate.

  "I... I... Major Mallard has just told me...."

  "Major Mallard exceeded his duty," said Blood, and because of the efforthe made to steady his voice it sounded harsh and unduly loud.

  He saw her start, and stop, and instantly made amends. "You alarmyourself without reason, Miss Bishop. Whatever may lie between me andyour uncle, you may be sure that I shall not follow the example he hasset me. I shall not abuse my position to prosecute a private vengeance.On the contrary, I shall abuse it to protect him. Lord Willoughby'srecommendation to me is that I shall treat him without mercy. My ownintention is to send him back to his plantation in Barbados."

  She came slowly forward now. "I... I am glad that you will do that.Glad, above all, for your own sake." She held out her hand to him.

  He considered it critically. Then he bowed over it. "I'll not presume totake it in the hand of a thief and a pirate," said he bitterly.

  "You are no longer that," she said, and strove to smile.

  "Yet I owe no thanks to you that I am not," he answered. "I thinkthere's no more to be said, unless it be to add the assurance that LordJulian Wade has also nothing to apprehend from me. That, no doubt, willbe the assurance that your peace of mind requires?"

  "For your own sake--yes. But for your own sake only. I would not haveyou do anything mean or dishonouring."

  "Thief and pirate though I be?"

  She clenched her hand, and made a little gesture of despair andimpatience.

  "Will you never forgive me those words?"

  "I'm finding it a trifle hard, I confess. But what does it matter, whenall is said?"

  Her clear hazel eyes considered him a moment wistfully. Then she put outher hand again.

  "I am going, Captain Blood. Since you are so generous to my uncle,I shall be returning to Barbados with him. We are not like to meetagain--ever. Is it impossible that we should part friends? Once Iwronged you, I know. And I have said that I am sorry. Won't you... won'tyou say 'good-bye'?"

  He seemed to rouse himself, to shake off a mantle of deliberateharshness. He took the hand she proffered. Retaining it, he spoke, hiseyes sombrely, wistfully considering her.

  "You are returning to Barbados?" he said slowly. "Will Lord Julian begoing with you?"

  "Why do you ask me that?" she confronted him quite fearlessly.

  "Sure, now, didn't he give you my message, or did he bungle it?"

  "No. He didn't bungle it. He gave it me in your own words. It touched mevery deeply. It made me see clearly my error and my injustice. I oweit to you that I should say this by way of amend. I judged too harshlywhere it was a presumption to judge at all."

  He was still holding her hand. "And Lord Julian, then?" he asked, hiseyes watching her, bright as sapphires in that copper-coloured face.

  "Lord Julian will no doubt be going home to England. There is nothingmore for him to do out here."

  "But didn't he ask you to go with him?"

  "He did. I forgive you the impertinence."

  A wild hope leapt to life within him.

  "And you? Glory be, ye'll not be telling me ye refused to become mylady, when...."

  "Oh! You are insufferable!" She tore her hand free and backed away fromhim. "I should not have come. Good-bye!" She was speeding to the door.

  He sprang after her, and caught her. Her face flamed, and her eyesstabbed him like daggers. "These are pirate's ways, I think! Releaseme!"

  "Arabella!" he cried on a note of pleading. "Are ye meaning it? Must Irelease ye? Must I let ye go and never set eyes on ye again? Or will yestay and make this exile endurable until we can go home together? Och,ye're crying now! What have I said to make ye cry, my dear?"

  "I... I thought you'd never say it," she mocked him through her tears.

  "Well, now, ye see there was Lord Julian, a fine figure of a...."

  "There was never, never anybody but you, Peter."

  They had, of course, a deal to say thereafter, so much, indeed, thatthey sat down to say it, whilst time sped on, and Governor Blood forgotthe duties of his office. He had reached home at last. His odyssey wasended.

  And meanwhile Colonel Bishop's fleet had come to anchor, and the Colonelhad landed on the mole, a disgruntled man to be disgruntled further yet.He was accompanied ashore by Lord Julian Wade.

  A corporal's guard was drawn up to receive him, and in advance ofthis stood Major Mallard and two others who were unknown to theDeputy-Governor: one slight and elegant, the other big and brawny.

  Major Mallard advanced. "Colonel Bishop, I have orders to arrest you.Your sword, sir!"

  "By order of the Governor of Jamaica," said the elegant little manbehind Major Mallard. Bishop swung to him.

  "The Governor? Ye're mad!" He looked from one to the other. "
I am theGovernor."

  "You were," said the little man dryly. "But we've changed that in yourabsence. You're broke for abandoning your post without due cause, andthereby imperiling the settlement over which you had charge. It's aserious matter, Colonel Bishop, as you may find. Considering that youheld your office from the Government of King James, it is even possiblethat a charge of treason might lie against you. It rests with yoursuccessor entirely whether ye're hanged or not."

  Bishop rapped out an oath, and then, shaken by a sudden fear: "Who thedevil may you be?" he asked.

  "I am Lord Willoughby, Governor General of His Majesty's colonies in theWest Indies. You were informed, I think, of my coming."

  The remains of Bishop's anger fell from him like a cloak. He broke intoa sweat of fear. Behind him Lord Julian looked on, his handsome facesuddenly white and drawn.

  "But, my lord..." began the Colonel.

  "Sir, I am not concerned to hear your reasons," his lordship interruptedhim harshly. "I am on the point of sailing and I have not the time. TheGovernor will hear you, and no doubt deal justly by you." He waved toMajor Mallard, and Bishop, a crumpled, broken man, allowed himself to beled away.

  To Lord Julian, who went with him, since none deterred him, Bishopexpressed himself when presently he had sufficiently recovered.

  "This is one more item to the account of that scoundrel Blood," hesaid, through his teeth. "My God, what a reckoning there will be when wemeet!"

  Major Mallard turned away his face that he might conceal his smile, andwithout further words led him a prisoner to the Governor's house, thehouse that so long had been Colonel Bishop's own residence. He was leftto wait under guard in the hall, whilst Major Mallard went ahead toannounce him.

  Miss Bishop was still with Peter Blood when Major Mallard entered. Hisannouncement startled them back to realities.

  "You will be merciful with him. You will spare him all you can for mysake, Peter," she pleaded.

  "To be sure I will," said Blood. "But I'm afraid the circumstanceswon't."

  She effaced herself, escaping into the garden, and Major Mallard fetchedthe Colonel.

  "His excellency the Governor will see you now," said he, and threw widethe door.

  Colonel Bishop staggered in, and stood waiting.

  At the table sat a man of whom nothing was visible but the top of acarefully curled black head. Then this head was raised, and a pair ofblue eyes solemnly regarded the prisoner. Colonel Bishop made a noisein his throat, and, paralyzed by amazement, stared into the face of hisexcellency the Deputy-Governor of Jamaica, which was the face of the manhe had been hunting in Tortuga to his present undoing.

  The situation was best expressed to Lord Willoughby by van der Kuylen asthe pair stepped aboard the Admiral's flagship.

  "Id is fery boedigal!" he said, his blue eyes twinkling. "Cabdain Bloodis fond of boedry--you remember de abble-blossoms. So? Ha, ha!"

 
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