Captain Blood, Rafael Sabatini [best ereader for pdf TXT] 📗

him to return home and take up his life again at the point where it was so unfortunately interrupted four years ago. He was dazzled by the prospect so abruptly opened out to him. The thing so filled his mind, moved him so deeply, that he must afford it expression. In doing so, he revealed of himself more than he knew or intended to the astute little gentleman who watched him so keenly the while.

“Go home, if you will,” said his lordship, when Blood paused. “You may be sure that none will harass you on the score of your piracy, considering what it was that drove you to it. But why be in haste? We have heard of you, to be sure, and we know of what you are capable upon the seas. Here is a great chance for you, since you declare yourself sick of piracy. Should you choose to serve King William out here during this war, your knowledge of the West Indies should render you a very valuable servant to His Majesty's Government, which you would not find ungrateful. You should consider it. Damme, sir, I repeat: it is a great chance you are given.

“That your lordship gives me,” Blood amended, “I am very grateful. But at the moment, I confess, I can consider nothing but this great news. It alters the shape of the world. I must accustom myself to view it as it now is, before I can determine my own place in it.”

Pitt came in to report that the work of rescue was at an end, and the men picked up—some forty-five in all—safe aboard the two buccaneer ships. He asked for orders. Blood rose.

“I am negligent of your lordship's concerns in my consideration of my own. You'll be wishing me to land you at Port Royal.”

“At Port Royal?” The little man squirmed wrathfully on his seat. Wrathfully and at length he informed Blood that they had put into Port Royal last evening to find its Deputy-Governor absent. “He had gone on some wild-goose chase to Tortuga after buccaneers, taking the whole of the fleet with him.”

Blood stared in surprise a moment; then yielded to laughter.

“He went, I suppose, before news reached him of the change of government at home, and the war with France?”

“He did not,” snapped Willoughby. “He was informed of both, and also of my coming before he set out.”

“Oh, impossible!”

“So I should have thought. But I have the information from a Major Mallard whom I found in Port Royal, apparently governing in this fool's absence.”

“But is he mad, to leave his post at such a time?” Blood was amazed.

“Taking the whole fleet with him, pray remember, and leaving the place open to French attack. That is the sort of Deputy-Governor that the late Government thought fit to appoint: an epitome of its misrule, damme! He leaves Port Royal unguarded save by a ramshackle fort that can be reduced to rubble in an hour. Stab me! It's unbelievable!”

The lingering smile faded from Blood's face. “Is Rivarol aware of this?” he cried sharply.

It was the Dutch Admiral who answered him. “Vould he go dere if he were not? M. de Rivarol he take some of our men prisoners. Berhabs dey dell him. Berhabs he make dem tell. Id is a great obbordunidy.”

His lordship snarled like a mountain-cat. “That rascal Bishop shall answer for it with his head if there's any mischief done through this desertion of his post. What if it were deliberate, eh? What if he is more knave than fool? What if this is his way of serving King James, from whom he held his office?”

Captain Blood was generous. “Hardly so much. It was just vindictiveness that urged him. It's myself he's hunting at Tortuga, my lord. But, I'm thinking that while he's about it, I'd best be looking after Jamaica for King William.” He laughed, with more mirth than he had used in the last two months.

“Set a course for Port Royal, Jeremy, and make all speed. We'll be level yet with M. de Rivarol, and wipe off some other scores at the same time.”

Both Lord Willoughby and the Admiral were on their feet.

“But you are not equal to it, damme!” cried his lordship. “Any one of the Frenchman's three ships is a match for both yours, my man.”

“In guns—aye,” said Blood, and he smiled. “But there's more than guns that matter in these affairs. If your lordship would like to see an action fought at sea as an action should be fought, this is your opportunity.”

Both stared at him. “But the odds!” his lordship insisted.

“Id is imbossible,” said van der Kuylen, shaking his great head. “Seamanship is imbordand. Bud guns is guns.”

“If I can't defeat him, I can sink my own ships in the channel, and block him in until Bishop gets back from his wild-goose chase with his squadron, or until your own fleet turns up.”

“And what good will that be, pray?” demanded Willoughby.

“I'll be after telling you. Rivarol is a fool to take this chance, considering what he's got aboard. He carried in his hold the treasure plundered from Cartagena, amounting to forty million livres.” They jumped at the mention of that colossal sum. “He has gone into Port Royal with it. Whether he defeats me or not, he doesn't come out of Port Royal with it again, and sooner or later that treasure shall find its way into King William's coffers, after, say, one fifth share shall have been paid to my buccaneers. Is that agreed, Lord Willoughby?”

His lordship stood up, and shaking back the cloud of lace from his wrist, held out a delicate white hand.

“Captain Blood, I discover greatness in you,” said he.

“Sure it's your lordship has the fine sight to perceive it,” laughed the Captain.

“Yes, yes! Bud how vill you do id?” growled van der Kuylen.

“Come on deck, and it's a demonstration I'll be giving you before the day's much older.”