Not that this made any great difference to me, it emerged. It was evident that an effort was made to help, that the fuelling station was contacted and that my description and name were registered there, for one night, just after the spectacular New Year celebrations for which the Island folk are justly famous. I sat in a comfortable chair before a roaring fire in an excellent public house serving the township of Uig, sipping good malt whisky and chatting on parochial subjects, when the door of the hostelry opened, the wind howled in, bearing a few flakes of snow with it, until the door was slammed back in its face, and three, swathed in a heavy leather sea-cloak, stood my old friend Captain Josef Korzeniowski, bowing his stiff, Polish bow, and clicking the heels of his boots smartly together as he saluted me, his intelligent eyes full of sardonic amusement.
He was evidently well-known to the regular customers of the inn and was greeted with warmth by several of them. I learned later that it was the captain's policy to share at least half of his booty with the islanders, and in return he received their friendship and their loyalty. When he needed new crew members, he recruited them from Skye, Harris, Lewis, North and South Uist and the smaller islands, for many had been professional seamen and, as Korzeniowski informed me, were among the most loyal, courageous and resourceful in the world, taking naturally to the dangers and the romance of his piratical activities.
We talked for hours, that night. I told him of my adventures and confirmed all he had told me of what I would find in the South. In turn, he described some of his recent engagements and brought me up to date with what he knew of events in the rest of the world. Things had, if anything, gone from bad to worse. The whole of Europe and Russia had reverted almost completely to barbarism. Things were scarcely any better in North America. Most of the nations which had remained neutral were internally divided and took no interest in international problems. In Africa the infamous Black Attila had swept through the entire Middle East and incorporated it into his so-called 'Empire', had crossed the Mediterranean and claimed large areas of Europe, had conquered the best part of Asia Minor.
'There is even a story that he has designs on Britain and the United States,' Korzeniowsld informed me. 'The only potential threat to his dreams of conquest would be the Australasian-Japanese Federation, but they pursue a policy of strict isolationism, refusing to become involved in any affairs but their own. It saved them from the worst effects of the War and they have no reason to risk losing everything by taking part in what they see as a conflict between different tribes of barbarians. The Black Attila has so far offered the A.J.F. no direct threat. Until he does, they will not move to stop him. The African nations who have so far been reluctant to join him are too weak to oppose him directly and are hopeful that if they do not anger him he will continue to concentrate on conquering territory which is, after all, already lost to civilization.'
'But it is in the nature of such conquerors to consolidate easy gains before turning their attention on more powerful prey, is it not?' I said.
Korzeniowski shrugged and lit a pipe. The rest of the customers had long since gone home, and we sat beside a dying fire, the remains of a bottle of whisky between us. 'Perhaps his impetus will dissipate itself eventually. It is what most people hope. So far he has brought some kind of order to the nations he has conquered - even a form of justice exists, crude though it is, for those with brown, black or yellow skins. The whites, I gather, receive a generally rawer deal. He has a consuming hatred for the Caucasian races, regarding them as the source of the world's evils - though I have heard that he has some white engineers in his employ. Presumably they are useful to him and would prefer to serve him rather than be subjected to some of the awful tortures he has devised for other whites. As a result, his resources grow. He has great fleets of land ironclads, airships, undersea dreadnoughts - and they are increasing all the time as he captures the remnants of the world's fighting machines.'
'But what interest could he have in conquering England?' I asked. 'There is nothing for him here.'
'Only the opportunities for revenge,' said the Polish sea-captain quietly. He looked at his watch. 'It is high time I returned to my ship. Are you coming with me, Bastable?'
'That was my reason for being here," I said. I had a heavy heart as I digested the implications of all Korzeniowski had told me, but I tried to joke, remarking: 'I used to dream of such things, as a boy. But now the dream is reality - I am about to serve under the Jolly Roger. Will it be necessary to sign my articles in blood?'
Korzeniowski ckpped me on the shoulder. 'It will not even be required of you, my dear fellow, to toast the Devil in grog -unless, of course, you wish to!'
I got my few possessions from my room and followed my new commander out into the chilly night.
6. 'A HAVEN OF CIVILIZATION'
For well over a year I sailed with Captain Korzeniowski aboard the Lola Mo»fe%, taking part in activities which would have carried the death sentence in many countries of my own world, living the desperate, dangerous and not always humane life of a latter-day sea wolf. In my own mind, if not in the minds of my comrades, I had become a criminal, and while my conscience still sometimes troubled me, I am forced to admit that I grew to enjoy the life. We went for the big game of the seas, never taking on an unarmed ship, and, by the logic which had come to possess this cruel and ravaged world, usually doing battle with craft who had as much to answer for in the name of piracy as had we.
But as the year progressed, and we roamed the seas of the world (ever cautious not to offend either the ships of the Australasian-Japanese Federation or those sailing under the colours of the Black Attila), we found our prey becoming increasingly scarce. As sources of fuel ran out or parts needed replacing, even the few ships which had survived the war began to disappear. I felt something of the emotions that an American buffalo-hunter must have felt as he began to realize that he had slaughtered all the game. Sometimes a month or more would pass without our ever sighting a possible prize and we were forced to take a decision: either we must risk the wrath of the two main Powers and begin to attack their shipping, or we must go for smaller game. Both prospects were unpleasant. We should not last long against the Powers and none of us would enjoy the sordid business of taking on craft not of our size. The only alternative would be to join the navy of one of the smaller neutral nations. There was no doubt that we should be welcomed with relief into their service (for we had been a thorn in their side as pirates and they would rather have a ship of our tonnage working with them - most would prefer to forget any thoughts of revenge), but it would not be pleasant to accept their discipline after having had virtually the freedom of the high seas. For all that I had reservations, mine was the chief voice raised in support of this latter scheme, and slowly I won Korzeniowski over to the idea. He was an intelligent, far-sighted skipper, and could see that his days as a pirate were numbered. He confided to me that he had yet another consideration.