"This terrible creature! This monster of iniquity! Why, Adam, indeed his wickedness is a byword, his very name carries terror. The mothers of Jamaica fright their naughty children by saying Black Bartlemy shall have them unless they're good."
"Yet is he no more than veriest human, Antonia, though a something exceptional rogue, yes ... an original, a quaint, new-fangled villain."
"And you fought this ... this dire wretch and are yet alive!"
"Ay, but ... I suffered him to live also and wondered why at the time. But now I ... yes, now I know."
"What is it you know?"
"That I spared him by the Lord's will that he might aid us to rescue Absalom."
"Ah, not—not this man, dear Adam! Seek no aid of this evil wretch,—trust rather to your own strength and skill."
"So I would, Antonia, as with God's aid I have ever done—though 'twas mostly to mine own interest. But to-day I think of Absalom, his peril ... and Santo Domingo is city strongly embattled as well I do know, and my Santissima Trinidad, though ably manned and heavily armed, shall achieve little 'gainst so strong a place. Castles and shore batteries. We must have other ships,—a fleet!"
So saying, he rang the silver bell and Jimbo instantly appearing:
"Look now," said he, "here is the lady Perrow, Captain Absalom's lady. She will occupy the larboard cabin. See to it, Jimbo, ay, and open the chests and lay out that lady's gear, gowns and dresses, caps and so forth."
"Yessah, dis berry instant-moment, Cap'n!" And flashing his teeth, he bowed and vanished.
"Gowns? Dresses? Oh—Adam!"
"Why yes, I forgot to tell you, there are chests and presses full o' them—gowns, caps, shawls, with other garments of all sorts,—silks, laces, 'broideries,—enough to last your life-time."
"Oh, my gracious heavens above! And you forgot any mention! Adam, how like you!"
"Well, they await your ladyship. Jimbo will be shaking 'em out for your inspection——"
"Jimbo shall—not!" she cried, and sped away like a carefree girl.
Then, buckling on his father's sword, Adam went out on deck and summoned Ned Bowser and John Fenn.
"Yonder!" said he, pointing them where, at no great distance, rode a stately black ship.
"Ay, she'm a likely craft!" quoth Ned.
"And powerful gunned!" said John.
"Come in last night she did," added Ned, "about the middle watch, 'twould be."
"Well," said Adam, viewing this great ship with narrowed eyes, "she is the Lady's Delight."
"Eh, Bartlemy's cursed ship?" exclaimed Ned. "Lord love my eyes! Now what's she, ay, and him, adoing here along? What do they rogues want, I wonder?"
"I think word with me, Ned."
"Ha!" cried John. "By reason we've sunk so many of his rogue friends and consorts."
"Howbeit, I'm going aboard him—now."
"Nay now—God forbid!" cried Ned. "Why, Lord love you, this were like lamb to butcher, your throat to his bloody knife! So, Cap'n Adam, seeing as how, I begs as how you'll heark to me and be advised."
"Nay, 'tis for you to hear me, Ned. I want to shift our anchorage somewhat ... warp her head round to starboard.... And you, John ... listen to me now, hearkee both...."
CHAPTER XXXVII
HOW ADAM MET BLACK BARTLEMY FOR THE SECOND TIME
Thus, after some while, with Smidge (armed to the teeth) beside him in the stern sheets, Adam was rowed to this great, black ship whose towering masts, taut rig, and graceful lines he admired as only true seaman might. Being come alongside he nodded, whereat his coxswain Tregenza hailed cheerily:
"Ship ahoy! Rig the gangway—Captain Adam Penfeather coming aboard!"
Steel flashed on deck above and the entry-port was manned; then, bidding Smidge remain in the boat, up went Adam to a broad, white deck where, to right and left of him, stood files of armed men commanded it seemed by this same tall rogue Tressady who, striding at Adam, halted suddenly within a yard of him to leer and flourish:
"Why sink and drownd me!" he exclaimed. "I say drownd and sink me if it a'n't the little, crowing captain, the game-cock whiffler as——"
"Tressady," said a voice above them, "close that vile mouth and remove your viler carcase! Captain Penfeather be welcome aboard my Lady's Delight. Will you hither to the poop or shall we to my cabin?"
"The poop, sir," answered Adam. And thither he mounted to a deck scoured snowy-white but spread with rich Orient carpets and rugs beneath a silken awning, a place of delicate luxury more like a dainty lady's boudoir (thought Adam) than deck of a fighting-ship.
"Pray be seated, sir. Here is wine very rarely precious, or strong waters—excellent cordials if you prefer."
"Thankee—nothing!" answered Adam, taking the nearest chair.
"Ah, to be sure," murmured Bartlemy, "the very abstemious Puritan, the primly ascetical Buccaneer! Why then, sir, if 'stead of debasing your soul with drink you would uplift it with short psalm or briefer prayer, I can be patient." Adam, leaning back in cushioned chair, merely smiled on the smiling speaker who filled himself a glass of exquisitely cut crystal with amber wine, bowed to him and sipped daintily, saying:
"Your health, Captain Adam,—for the present."
"Black Bartlemy," said Adam, surveying him leisurely, feature by feature, "I am wondering if you are ever yourself?"
Bartlemy set down his glass and opened his sleepy eyes so wide that he may be said to have actually stared, then he shrugged languidly and answered:
"Sir, I am that I am and all I seem."
"On the contrary," said Adam, shaking his head, "you are verily so much other than you show, that I am, as I say, wondering if you ever permit yourself to lay by these affectations, when alone of course, and become the creature you truly are?"
Once again Bartlemy's eyes widened and then, having sipped his wine and pondered this question, he shook languid head, murmuring:
"Sir, I detest riddles. Pray be more explicit to let me know what the devil you may chance to be talking about. If, as I dimly suspect, 'tis of myself, then I take leave to declare you very damnably impertinent."
"Howbeit," continued Adam, smoothing the bright pommel of his father's sword, "I have glimpsed 'neath your mask and know you, for all your villainous repute, no more than poor, weary soul at odds with yourself, your fellows and your God, and therefore lost 'mid a great darkness and, in your secret heart, very fearful. You will deny this, even to yourself, yet I know—and so do you."
Now for a long moment they stared upon each other eye to eye,—then Black Bartlemy did that which, for him, was very strange,—he forgot to be himself, and gave way to a wild paroxysm of fury. Gone was his sneering, icy calm, his gracious languor, his fine, courtly grace,—instead was stark savagery. He cursed and swore with all the coarse invective and foul heartiness of a tarry mariner; he smote the table with passionate fists and glaring on Adam, vilified him 'twixt gnashing teeth, until, words and breath failing him at last, he sank back in his chair and wiped sweat from his brow with the back of clenched fist. And this, oddly enough, seemed to recall his self-control, for catching himself in the act, he whipped out dainty, be-laced handkerchief and having used this delicately, instead of smearing fist, he sipped his wine, smiled on Adam and bowed.
"Sir," he sighed, "as one swordsman and maître d'armes academique to another, I do here acknowledge a palpable hit and cry: 'Touché!' Indeed, you have tongue nimble and unexpected as your sword. Sir, I can appreciate wit, I can admire swordcraft, but though you possess both, I regret to say you prove yourself so extreme detestable that I propose to rid myself of you once and for all."
"Steel again?" enquired Adam.