Captain Blood, Rafael Sabatini [e manga reader TXT] 📗

their desperate resistance. But in the end, Rivarol went down with a bullet in his head, and the French remnant, numbering scarcely a score of whole men, called for quarter.

Even then the labours of Blood’s men were not at an end. The Elizabeth and the Medusa were tight-locked, and Hagthorpe’s followers were being driven back aboard their own ship for the second time. Prompt measures were demanded. Whilst Pitt and his seamen bore their part with the sails, and Ogle went below with a gun-crew, Blood ordered the grapnels to be loosed at once. Lord Willoughby and the Admiral were already aboard the Victorieuse. As they swung off to the rescue of Hagthorpe, Blood, from the quarterdeck of the conquered vessel, looked his last upon the ship that had served him so well, the ship that had become to him almost as a part of himself. A moment she rocked after her release, then slowly and gradually settled down, the water gurgling and eddying about her topmasts, all that remained visible to mark the spot where she had met her death.

As he stood there, above the ghastly shambles in the waist of the Victorieuse, someone spoke behind him. “I think, Captain Blood, that it is necessary I should beg your pardon for the second time. Never before have I seen the impossible made possible by resource and valour, or victory so gallantly snatched from defeat.”

He turned, and presented to Lord Willoughby a formidable front. His headpiece was gone, his breastplate dinted, his right sleeve a rag hanging from his shoulder about a naked arm. He was splashed from head to foot with blood, and there was blood from a scalp-wound that he had taken matting his hair and mixing with the grime of powder on his face to render him unrecognizable.

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

XXXI His Excellency the Governor

When the cost of that victory came to be counted, it was found that of three hundred and twenty buccaneers who had left Cartagena with Captain Blood, a bare hundred remained sound and whole. The Elizabeth had suffered so seriously that it was doubtful if she could ever again be rendered seaworthy, and Hagthorpe, who had so gallantly commanded her in that last action, was dead. Against this, on the other side of the account, stood the facts that, with a far inferior force and by sheer skill and desperate valour, Blood’s buccaneers had saved Jamaica from bombardment and pillage, and they had captured the fleet of M. de Rivarol, and seized for the benefit of King William the splendid treasure which she carried.

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

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

“And meanwhile,” he complained to his Admiral, “I am detained here by the 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 successor in some man gifted with a sense of where his duty lies, and with the ability to perform it.”

“Aha! But id is not necessary you remain for dat. And he vill require no insdrucshons, dis one. He vill know how to make Port Royal safe, bedder nor 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, having exploited the resources of Port Royal so to render himself. He was a trifle dazzled by the honour proposed to him, when Lord Willoughby made it known. It was so far beyond anything that he had dreamed, and he was assailed by doubts of his capacity to undertake so onerous a charge.

“Damme!” snapped Willoughby, “Should I offer it unless I were satisfied of your capacity? If that’s your only objection⁠ ⁠…”

“It is not, my lord. I had counted upon going home, so I had. I am hungry for the green lanes of England.” He sighed. “There will be apple-blossoms in the orchards of Somerset.”

“Apple-blossoms!” His lordship’s voice shot up like a rocket, and cracked on the word. “What the devil⁠ ⁠… ? Apple-blossoms!” He looked at van der Kuylen.

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

“So!” he said. “Fery boedical!”

My lord wheeled fiercely upon Captain Blood. “You’ve a past score to wipe 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 offer you the governorship of Jamaica in His Majesty’s name⁠—because I account you 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, and your future assured, this is your chance. And you are not to treat it lightly on account of apple-blossoms or any other damned sentimental nonsense. 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 your native Ireland and its potheen; but until then you’ll make the best of Jamaica and rum.”

Van der Kuylen exploded into laughter. But from Blood the pleasantry elicited no smile. He remained solemn to