The Corsair King Part 10

The third prisoner now appeared, and Barthelemy exclaimed in surprise, "That is Henry Glasby."

The former captain of the Fortuna was the third captive.

Glasby was a handsome young man, with a n.o.ble face, whom the pirates kept among them by force on account of his superior knowledge of seamans.h.i.+p; his gentle nature and kind heart were known to the whole band, for he protected all who fell into their hands, as far as lay in his power, frequently paying their ransom out of his own pocket; his entreaties had saved many a s.h.i.+p from burning, and he had always kept aloof from the baccha.n.a.lian orgies of his companions, for which reason they did not hold him in special regard, and always watched him with suspicious eyes. He had already made one attempt to escape, which had been pardoned, now he was certainly doomed. After the first expression of surprise, Barthelemy's face had regained its cold, unmoved composure.

Scudamore awaited the verdict with greedy impatience.

Glasby stood before Barthelemy with unquailing resolution.

"You have already p.r.o.nounced sentence upon two," he said fearlessly.

"There is no reason why you should make me an exception. I have but one request; send this valueless locket containing my portrait to my mother,--she lives in Norfolk. It also has a curl of hair belonging to my betrothed bride, whom I longed to see, and for whom I die."

Barthelemy trembled and gazed intently at Glasby's face.

"You have a betrothed bride whom you longed to see?" he said in a stifled voice, loosing the ropes from his wrists--"go back to her, I release you--"

"Captain! Two are hanging already," shouted Scudamore, furious as he saw the escape of the man whose death he most desired. "The third rope is waiting for its ornament."

"It will pull up the man who dares to contradict my judgment!" answered Barthelemy, gazing fiercely at the defiant faces, and closed the door of his cabin behind him.

The whole band remained silent.

From that moment Barthelemy was completely transformed. His heart was stone, nothing touched it except a woman's sobs; then he fled, it was more than he could bear.

To his men he was stern to the point of injustice, the most trivial offence did not escape his punishment, every evening he held a court of justice by which he had those who were accused imprisoned in the s.h.i.+p's hold, flogged, or shot. Yet there was one person whom he never attacked, Glasby. He spent whole nights in questioning him about his family life, his mother, and his betrothed bride, listening with eager attention to all the details for the hundredth time. He showed mercy to no one, burning or sinking the captured s.h.i.+ps, unmoved by submission or entreaties, but if a vessel chanced to have a woman on board, and he heard her voice he would take nothing from the s.h.i.+p and let her pursue her way uninjured.

One day he a.s.sembled the crews of both pirate cruisers on the deck of the Commodore.

"My lads," he said, "life here is beginning to grow wearisome. Fortune offers her favors in vain, there is no one on this side of the world whom we fear; we have plenty of booty, but no fame, for we encounter no foemen worthy of us. Let us go farther. These Dutch and Portuguese merchantmen already fear us to such a degree that they almost love us.

Let us go where we are not known, among the English and French, whose troops sleep secure in their fortresses along the coast, where Fortune is still a coy maiden who permits her favors to be grasped only by strong hands. Let us win honor and fame in the places where the wise law-makers have written a hundred paragraphs against us in their code of laws, let us tear out the page, and place in its stead the words that there are no laws for the brave."

Barthelemy wished to fire his comrades' hearts as he had done in former days, but he was unsuccessful, the tones which had once thrilled them were dead; the fire in his soul, one spark of which had sufficed to kindle theirs, was extinct. Now he could influence them only by his coldness.

"Pirates," he went on, folding his arms, "I promised you treasures, you promised me blood. Let us both keep our word. Our work here is beggarly.

To plunder the s.h.i.+ps of peaceful merchants, who surrender their goods without defence! And of what use are they? We merely give them away. I will take you to the home of treasures, the coasts of Africa, where s.h.i.+ps laden with gold-dust plough the sea, where the negro kings sleep on golden sand and the negro warriors fight with golden weapons. We will plunder _these_ s.h.i.+ps, dig the golden sand from under the sleeping kings, and bury them in it, wrench the precious weapons from the negroes' hands and give them cheaper ones of iron in their hearts."

This pleased the pirates who made up the Commodore's crew, and they responded with murmurs of approval, but the Fortuna's men remained silent, with sullen, defiant faces.

Barthelemy noted the different effect he had produced, and wrapping himself deliberately in his ample cloak, whose folds concealed his hands, he added: "Perhaps there is some one who does not approve this plan, let him state what he has against it. He can speak freely, I will listen."

The crew of the Fortuna began to gather into groups and whisper together; at last two men came forward, hitching their trousers, and stood with resolute faces before the captain.

"Yes, we don't approve of your plan, captain," said one, and the other nodded a.s.sent, while their comrades murmured approval.

"You don't approve of it, my children?" asked Barthelemy in his sweetest tones, "and why?"

"Because we are not tired of having things go well with us and finding booty everywhere without danger," said one.

"Because we don't want to seek unknown risks in unknown gold regions,"

added the other.

"Where there are laws against us."

"And where royal men-of-war protect commerce."

"We don't care for fame, but prizes."

"And we would rather stay here, where people fear us, than go where we must fear others."

"If you want blood, we can shed as much here for you as you desire."

"But we won't go a thousand miles and seek danger merely to avenge you on the negroes who killed your sweetheart."

Robert Barthelemy's face blanched to a ghastly pallor.

"You wish to stay here, my dear children," he replied in a tone of childlike blandness. "You like it here, and are afraid to go elsewhere.

Why, my dear children, just think it over a moment."

"We have already thought of it," they answered defiantly.

"Very well," said Barthelemy, suddenly throwing back his cloak, and the next instant he had sent a bullet through the heads of both.

For a moment the others stood petrified with horror, then they turned furiously upon Barthelemy, their eyes and knives flas.h.i.+ng around him.

"What! You dare to oppose, when I command! Away with you, worthless rascals!" thundered their young leader in a voice which rose above the fray, and seizing a piece of stout rope he rushed among them, dealing blows right and left at the mutineers, who were so amazed by his daring that, forgetting their rage, they scattered.

"Put them all in irons. Keep them in confinement on bread and water for three days! If any one utters a word against me, throw him into the sea," shouted Barthelemy, and in a moment the Fortuna's crew were disarmed by the Commodore's men.

"You are taking a great risk," Glasby whispered to Barthelemy.

"Oh, I fear neither man nor devil," replied the pirate defiantly.

The s.h.i.+ps sailed for Africa that very day. The time of punishment of the Fortuna's crew expired on the third, and Barthelemy, to prevent any attempt at flight, removed all the nautical instruments and all the men who had any knowledge of navigation to the Commodore.

Nevertheless the Fortuna vanished one night when they were still four hundred miles from the African coast.

As Barthelemy predicted the s.h.i.+p ran on a sandbank in the first storm which overtook her, and her crew all perished.

But the leader did not give up his plan; though his strength was diminished, his courage was unchanged.

One morning at dawn he saw a mountain peak on the horizon--it was Cape Corso. "We have reached our destination," said Barthelemy to the exulting pirates, and began to cruise up and down before the harbor.

At that time the French government had a monopoly of the india-rubber trade and, as the most venomous antidote of monopoly is smuggling, the coasts of Cayenne were constantly watched by French men-of-war.

Two of them instantly noticed the suspicious craft and, believing it to be a smuggler, gave chase. Barthelemy lured them too far from the sh.o.r.e for the battle to be seen, then, after a short conflict, conquered both, sank one and, keeping the other, manned it with part of his crew under the command of Skyrme, and called it the Fox-Hound.