Black Bartlemy's Treasure Part 65

"Here will do!" says he, pointing to a brilliant strip of moonlit sand midway betwixt the shadows of the cliff and Bartlemy's tree. "On his back, hearties, and grapple him fast, he's strong well-nigh as I am.

Now his hand, Smiler, his right hand--"

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" quoth the fellow, kneeling above me where I lay helpless. "Will I cut it adrift--slow like?" And as he flourished his knife I saw a trickle of saliva at the corners of his great, loose mouth, "Off at the wrist, Cap'n, or fingers first?"

"No, fool! His thumb-nail first--try that!"

Sweating and with every nerve a-quiver I watched that cruel knife, holding my breath in expectation of the coming agony, and then--from the black gloom of the cliff beyond burst a sudden echoing roar, I heard the whine of a bullet and immediately all was confusion and uproar, shouts of dismay and a wild rush for shelter from this sudden attack. But as I struggled to my knees Tressady's great hand gripped my throat, and dragging me behind a boulder he pinned me there.

"Stand by, lads!" he roared. "Level at the cliff yonder, but let no man pull trigger! Wait till they fire again and mark the flas.h.!.+"

Helpless in my bonds and crushed beneath Tressady's knee I heard a stir and rustle to right and left of me, the click of c.o.c.king triggers and thereafter--silence. And, marking the gleam of pistol and musket-barrel, I fell to an agony of dread, well knowing whence that merciful shot had come. For mayhap five minutes nought was to hear save the rustle of stealthy arm or leg and the sound of heavy breathing, until at length one spoke, loud-voiced:

"What now, Captain? Us can't bide here all night."

"How many are we, Purdy?"

"Thirty and nine, Captain."

"Then do you take ten and scale the starboard cliff and you, Abner, with other ten take the cliff to larboard. I'll bide here wi' the rest and so we'll have 'em--"

"Them cliffs be perilous high, Cap'n!"

"My hook is more perilous, Tom Day! Off wi' you, ye dogs, or I'll show ye a liver yet and be--"

He stopped all at once as, faint at first yet most dreadful to hear, there rose a man's cry, chilling the flesh with horror, a cry that waxed and swelled louder and louder to a hideous screaming that shrilled upon the night and, sinking to an awful bubbling murmur, was gone.

Up sprang Tressady to stare away across Deliverance whence this dreadful cry had come, and I saw his hook tap-tapping at his great chin; then beyond these s.h.i.+ning sands was the thunderous roar of a great gun, a furious rattle of small-arms that echoed and re-echoed near and far, and thereafter single shots in rapid succession.

Hereupon rose shouts and cries of dismay:

"Lord love us we'm beset! O Cap'n, we be took fore and aft. What shall us do, Cap'n? Yon was a gun. What o' the s.h.i.+p, Cap'n--what o' the s.h.i.+p?"

"Yonder--look yonder! Who comes?" cried Tressady, pointing towards Deliverance Beach with his glittering hook.

Twisting my head as I lay, I looked whither he pointed, and saw one that ran towards us, yet in mighty strange fas.h.i.+on, reeling in wide zig-zags like a drunken man; and sometimes he checked, only to come on again, and sometimes he fell, only to struggle up.

"By G.o.d--it's Abnegation!" cries Tressady. "'Tis my comrade Mings!

Look to the prisoner, ye dogs--you Tom Purdy! I'm for Abnegation!"

And off he went at a run. At his going was mighty talk and discussion what they should do, some men being for stealing away in the boats, others for taking to the woods, and all clean forgetting me where I lay. But suddenly they fell silent all for Abnegation was hailing feebly, and was come so nigh that we might see him, his face all b.l.o.o.d.y, his knees bending under him with weakness as he stumbled on.

Suddenly, beholding Tressady, he stopped and hailed him in wild, gasping voice:

"Roger--O Roger! The devil's aboard us, Roger--Penfeather's on us--Penfeather's took the s.h.i.+p--I'm all that's left alive! They killed Sol first--did ye--hear him die, Roger? O did ye hear--"

I saw him fall and Tressady run to lift him, and watched these pirate rogues as, with oaths and cries of dismay, they hasted hither to throng about the two; then, rolling into the nearest shadow I struggled to my feet and found myself beneath the spreading branches of Bartlemy's tree. And now, as I strove desperately against the rope that bit into the flesh of me, I felt the rope fall away, felt two soft arms close about me and a soft breath on my cheek:

"Martin--O thank G.o.d!" Turning, I caught my dear, brave lady to my heart. Heedless of aught else in the world beside I clasped her in my aching arms, and kissed her until she stayed me and showing me where stood our enemies, a wild disordered company, took my hand and began to run. Reaching the cliff we climbed together nor stayed until she had brought me to a little cave where lay an arquebus together with bandoliers. "I tried to reload it, dear Martin, but 'twas vain--my poor, silly hands shook so. For, O my dear, I--heard them--saw them and--thought I should run mad--O Martin my love!"

So now whiles I loaded the arquebus I told her as well as I might something of what I thought concerning her brave spirit, of my undying love for her, though in fas.h.i.+on very lame and halting. Thereafter, the weapon being ready I placed it near and, sitting within the gloom of this little cave, I took my love into my arms, her dear head pillowed on my breast, and kissed the tremors from her sweet mouth and the horror from her eyes. And thus with her arms about my neck and her soft, smooth cheek against mine, we waited for what was to be.

CHAPTER XLV

OF THE COMING OF ADAM PENFEATHER

In the shadow of the cliff below our hiding-place crept divers of these pirate rogues, and, crouching there cheek by jowl fell to a hoa.r.s.e mutter of talk yet all too low for us to catch; but presently there brake out a voice high-pitched, the which I knew for that of Smiling Sam.

"We'm done, lads, I tell ye. O love my lights--we'm done! 'Tis the end o' we since Penfeather hath took the s.h.i.+p--and here's us shall lie marooned to perish o' plagues, or Indian-savages, or hunger unless, lads, unless--"

"Unless what, Smiler?" questioned one, eagerly.

"Unless we'm up and doing. Penfeather do lack for men--Mings says he counted but ten at most when they boarded him! Well, mates--what d'ye say?"

"Ha, d'ye mean fight, Smiler? Fall on 'em by surprise and recapture the s.h.i.+p--ha?"

"O bless my guts--no! Penfeather aren't to be caught so--not him!

He'll ha' warped out from the anchorage by this! But he be shorthanded to work the vessel overseas, 'tis a-seekin' o' likely lads and prime sailor-men is Penfeather, and we sits on these yere sands. Well, mates, on these yere sands we be but what's took up us on these yere sands? The boats lie yonder! Well?"

"Where be you heading of now, Smiler? Where's the wind? Talk plain!"

"Why look'ee all, if Penfeather wants men, as wants 'em he doth, what's to stay or let us from rowing out to Penfeather soft and quiet and 'listing ourselves along of Penfeather, and watch our chance t' heave Penfeather overboard and go a-roving on our own account? Well?"

At this was sudden silence and thereafter a fierce mutter of whispering lost all at once in the clatter of arms and breathless scuffling as they scrambled to their feet; for there, within a yard of them, stood Tressady, hand grasping the dagger in his belt, his glittering hook tapping softly at his great chin as he stared from one to other of them.

"Ha, my pretty lambs!" says he, coming a pace nearer. "Will ye skulk then, will ye skulk with your fools' heads together? What now, mutiny is it, mutiny? And what's come o' my prisoner Martin, I don't spy him hereabouts?"

Now at this they shuffled, staring about and upon each other and (as I think) missed me for the first time.

"You, Tom Purdy, step forward--so! Now where's the prisoner as I set i' your charge, where, my merry bird, where?"

The fellow shrank away, muttering some sullen rejoinder that ended in a choking scream as Tressady sprang. Then I (knowing what was toward) clasped my lady to me, covering her ears that she might not hear those ghastly bubbling groans, yet felt her sweet body shaking with the horror that shook me.

"So--there's an end--o' Tom Purdy, my bullies!" gasped Tressady, stooping to clean his hook in the sand. "And I did it--look'ee, because he failed me once, d'ye see! Who'll be next? Who's for mutiny--you, Sammy, you--ha?"

"No--no, Cap'n!" piped Smiling Sam, "Us do be but contriving o' ways and means seeing' as Penfeather do ha' took our s.h.i.+p, curse him!"

"And what though he has? 'Tis we have the island and 'tis on this island lieth Black Bartlemy's Treasure, and 'tis the treasure we're after! As to ways and means, here we be thirty and eight to Penfeather's fourteen, and in a little 'twill be dark and the guns shan't serve 'em and then--aha, look yonder! The fools be coming into our very clutches! To cover, lads, and look to your primings and wait my word."

Now glancing whither he pointed, I saw, above the adjacent headland, the tapering spars of a s.h.i.+p. Slowly she hove into view, boltsprit, forecastle, waist and p.o.o.p, until she was plain to view, and I knew her for that same black s.h.i.+p that fouled us in Deptford Pool. She was standing in for the island under her lower courses only, although the wind was very light, but on she came, and very slowly, until she was so near that I might see the very muzzles of her guns. Suddenly with a cheery yo-ho-ing her yards were braced round, her anchor was let go and she brought to opposite Skeleton Cove and within fair pistol-shot.

Now glancing below I saw Tressady stand alone and with Abnegation Mings huddled at his feet, but in the gloom of the cave and to right and left, in every patch of shadow and behind every bush and rock, was the glimmer of pistol or musket-barrel, and all levelled in the one direction.

Presently up to the lofty p.o.o.p of the s.h.i.+p clambered a short, squat man in marvellous wide breeches and a great cutla.s.s on hip, who clapping speaking-trumpet to mouth, roared amain:

"Ahoy the sh.o.r.e! We be shorthanded. Now what rogues o' ye will turn honest mariners and 'list aboard us for England? Who's for a free pardon and Old England?"

Hereupon, from bush and shadow and rock, I heard a whisper, a murmur, and the word "England" oft repeated.

Tressady heard it also, and stepping forward he drew a long furrow in the sand with the toe of his shoe.