Текст книги "Doctor Syn on the High Seas"

Автор книги: Russell Thorndike

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fresh warriors.

“They came by the tunnel,” he said. “I thought my father would use

it.”

Taken now on both sides of the river, the deep bed became a human

shambles. The carnage was ghastly.

“Your Mountain Cat is avenged,” said the Indian.

“Poor old Pussy!” replied Mipps.

In a few minutes the victory was complete, and Shuhshuhgah’s village

was safe. It was then that he raised himself upon his elbow and gave the

cry of the heron three times. Those who saw him waving ran to the

hillock.

To these, Shuhshuhgah explained how his life had been saved by the

two pale -faces, telling them to bring him the litter and carry him by

way of the tunnel to his father.

This tunnel, as Syn and Mipps discovered, was entered through a cave

on the side of the hill, and with torch-bearers to light the way, they

descended a flight of rock steps into along, wide passage. The

Englishmen walked each side of the litter, for the Indian had given a

hand to each in order to show good faith.

Presently they reached another flight of steps and, climbing this,

reached a rough doorway, which by the light of the torches they saw was

hung with a curtain of skins. Parting this, the torch-bearers called

out:

“Shuhshuhgah lives.”

They found themselves in a vast cavern, into which their wounded were

brought and attended to by the women. Amongst these there walked an

elderly man of great height and fine presence. The Indian did not need

to tell them that this was his father, and the Chieftain. The venerable

warrior turned to the torch-bearers, and watched the stretcher carried

in. Then, approaching, he said:

“Shuhshuhgah.”

Syn and Mipps were standing aside to allow the father to embrace his

son, whom he must have thought dead, but the son would not allow this.

Instead he placed the Englishmen’s hands upon those of the Chief, and in

the Indian tongue told how they had risked their lives and saved his.

The old man replied with fitting thanks, which Syn not only understood,

but answered, much to their astonishment, in the same language.

Mipps said, “Ere, sir, I’m missing all this. Wish you’d talk

English.”

After Shuhshuhgah’s leg had been re-dressed, the Chieftain conducted

them to his own hut, and gave them rum and light flour-cakes. Mipps, who

was a good trencherman at any time, swallowed his portion in two

mouthfuls and looked around for more.

– 91 -

At this, Shuhshuhgah smiled and said, “Do not spoil your stomach for

the victory feast, my little brave. There will be eating and dancing to

fill by sunset. Do you not smell the cattle roasting?”

Mipps sniffed and nodded, and stayed his gnawing stomach with that

reflection. He was glad, however, to find that there was no such

restriction put upon the rum, in that it was as powerful as fire.

All this while the warriors were returning with scalps. The cattle

had been rounded up, and the oxen upon the spit poles were roasted. With

great ceremony the Chief sat with his son, Syn and Mipps around him.

Before the feast started, the singing poet of the tribe sang of the

killing, thanking God for the bravery of the pal e-faces who had saved

their beloved Shuhshuhgah, whose own ingenuity with the Clegg fly came

in for many stanzas of praise. There followed a dance, in which the

scene was re -enacted, and with great effect, since Syn and Mipps,

falling into their humour, loaned not only their jackets and threecornered hats to those representing them, but sword and cutlass as well.

Mipps having no stature, a little boy was picked to dance his part, and

Mipps applauded this urchin’s caperings more than any. This and the rum

so excited this admiration, that upon the conclusion of the dance, Mipps

leapt to his feet and, shouting a nautical tune, executed a very

spirited hornpipe, to the wonder of the Indians.

The feast itself went on for hours, during which, with much strange

ceremony, Syn and Mipps were made blood-brothers of the tribe, and given

many a pipe of peace. Indian trophies of value were presented to them,

Mipps being specially delighted with a barrel of rum for his own

consumption.

“This is the life for me, sir,” he told his master. “Better than

being a pirate. When I hornpiped aboard the Sulphur Pit—the devil rot

its timbers—an extra allowance was all we could expect. But a barrel.

This must be that there place in the Psalms we used to sing about in

Dymchurch choir, ‘Land flowin’ with milk and honey’, but better, since I

always had more taste for rum than milk.”

A spacious hut had been placed at their disposal, and just before

dawn Syn and Mipps retired to it for a much-needed rest. For some time

Syn lay on his back upon a comfortable couch of grass and skins and with

his eyes to the thatched roof he thought. At last, seeing that Mipps had

opened one eye from his bed at the other end of the hut in order to pat

his barrel of rum, and to take from it a further night-cap, Syn said:

“I have found my new name, Mipps. When Syn disappears into the death

which I have invented for him, I shall live on as one Clegg. I shall

drive that Nicholas into a panic, just as that fly drove the cattle

before him. I think now we shall have no difficulty in finding that

rascal. These tribesmen of our will scent him out for me. How do you

fancy serving Captain Clegg?”

“It’s a good enough name, sir,” replied Mipps, “so long as Doctor Syn

ain’t really turned his parson’s toes up. I’ll serve him. But don’t go

altering my name. I’d forget all about it in my next drunk.”

“Very well, then Captain Clegg and Mister Mipps let it be,” said Syn.

“Harking back, Mipps, to that morning upon Lympne Hill when we first

met, I don’t think w e imagined that we should be sleeping like this by

the light of Red Indians’ fires.

“If they worries you, sir,” said Mipps, “I’ll blow ‘em out.”

“No, let them bide. I like red fire,” chuckled Syn. “I carry so much

in my heart. Red hate, Mister Mipps. Red hate.”

– 92 -

“Aye, sir,” replied Mipps. “But when we spits this Nicholas through his

gizzard, when then? Are you for home and pulpits again, or for more of

these jovial adventures?”

“I will tell you that answer when our enemy is dead. Till then we

follow. Our way may be short or long.”

Chapter 14

Clegg’s Harpoon

The next words of Doctor Syn’s Odyssey can be best described in his

own words, which he penned at sea to his friend Antony Cobtree of

Dymchurch. As things befell, however, it took many a long year reaching

its destination, for having taken the pains to write it, the Doctor’s

caution persuaded him to keep it back, and it lay in his sea -chest till

he ultimately returned to Romney Marsh.

My dear Tony (it read),

In the hopes of meeting with some home-bound ship, which may carry

these lines to you, I am writing in my cabin aboard the whale-ship

Ezekiel, which is at the moment lying becalmed in the Southern Pacific.

More moons ago than I care to count, I wrote to you of our adventures

with the Redskins. Should it reach you, you will by this have read how

my blood -brothers of the tribe, got news of our enemy and of how

Shuhshuhgah, whom no arguments of mine could induce to stay behind, your

humble servant, and my faithful Dymchurch carpenter, Mipps, set out upon

his trail.

We got on our enemy’s track easily enough, and followed him,

sometimes hard upon his heels. Even in the larger towns we found that

Nicholas had not kept quiet, and we could always depend upon some gossip

concerning him at the chief inns. It was in one of these that a

garrulous landlord told us that our friend the Captain journeyed with

his wife and son towards the little port of New Bedford in

Massachusetts, where he intended to fit out a trading vessel , which he

would sail himself. This gossip rang true to me, when our Indian told me

that from this port there sailed many a whale-ship for long voyages.

Since

these ships have no destination but whales, Nicholas would think such a

voyage a good means of giving me the slip. Other gossip’s confirming

this, we set out horses’ heads for this same port. On reaching it, we

made our way to the harbour, where we saw one of these whale -ships

casting off. We watched her as she cleared the roads for the open sea. A

sturdy little craft, but pretty too under her full-set canvas. Mingling

with the crowd, who were whale-minded to a man, we learned that her name

was Isaish. We watched this valiant little vessel disappear upon her

hunting quest, and then proceeded to an inn, where we made inquiries

concerning Nicholas. As you know, I am, my dear Tony, something of a

fatalist. Well, I needed all my philosophy then; for would you credit

it? The Isaiah had been purchased by Nicholas, and he had manned her

with experienced whalemen, and we had seen her sail not knowing that he

was aboard. And, Tony, he had taken her with him and the boy. At first I

could have wept for rage, but my philosophy told me that I, too, must

buy a share in some other ship and follow. My companions agreed that

there was nothing else to do. I knew, of course, that I could count on

Mipps to accompany me, but when I thought to take a fond farewell of our

Indian I was mistaken. He had

– 93 -

married a girl from amongst the Gay-head Indians who inhabit the

beautiful island named ‘Martha’s Vineyard’, a tribe who from time

immemorial have fought the great leviathan. He proposed that we should

journey there, and then cross to the next island of Nantucket, from

which port he had been told the fastest and the largest whale-ships

sailed. A thriving town, too, much reliable wealth. Indeed, so

prosperous was this whaling trade that we could find no owner willing to

see us a vessel outright.

At last, however, I struck a bargain with a famour family of the

trade named Coffin, by insuring the safe return of a vessel called

Ezekiel, which was to be handed back with half profits upon the

conclusion of the voyage. In this way the Coffins stood to gain, but not

to lose. However, their experience was invaluable, for they found us a

full complement of tried men with a captain of their own whose integrity

they vouched for. I sailed on the ship’s papers as half owner of the

voyage, who wished to study the art of the harpoon. Mipps was shipped as

carpenter, and Shuhshuhgah, who had never been to sea, as a Greenhorn.

On this good ship we have now been to sea for two whole years. We have

rounded the dreadful Horn in storms as mighty as the ever-growing hate

in my heart. We have beat about Good Hope and killed fine whales there,

and now we are back again after sperm whale in the Pacific, which has so

far proved to be our best successful hunting -ground. But I hunt other

than a whale. As I sharpen my blade I think only of plunging it into his

black heart.

Two days later, Tony; for we have been hard driven cutting up two

mighty animals. Both of them forty-barreled Jonahs, and in one pleasant

lump of ambergris. I will not weary you with whaler’s jargon, though

some day I will write you a treatise on the subject. I love a good

harpoon! It is a godlike weapon. Mine is a marvel, and I trust no whale

will robe me of it, for I hope one day to send it crashing into human

ribs. Aye, into Nicholas.

Exhausted, we looked around upon an empty sea, for we had been towed

far out of sight fro m the lofty masthead of the ship, and there was

nothing for it but to lie alongside our valuable corpse till morning. A

salt breeze now fanned us, so that we were the more hopeful that the

Ezekiel’s sails would fill enough to follow us. We were far too weary to

commence the tedious business of towing back our prize. Also it was

easier for the ship to find us than for us to locate the ship. So we

rigged what is known as a wall-pole. This is a slender mast which is

thrust into the dead whale’s spout hole, and a lighted lantern hoisted

to its head. As the night set in under a clear moon, Shuhshuhgah pointed

towards the horizon, and we saw white canvas moving up into the skyline. At first we took this to be the mother ship searching for its lost

child, but as her rigging mounted higher, our old oarsman contradicted

us.

“That ship, don’t listen for the clacking of an old woman’s needles

in Nantucket,” he said. ‘A New Englander she may be, but not from our

port. No. You can tell by the set of her.’

We all de voutly hoped he was right, for the vessel never showed her

hull above the horizon, and our little flicker from the lantern was

evidently lost to her look-out in the dancing moon-sparks on the sea.

Scratching for the breeze, she changed her course and tacked down below

the line again, and we were once more alone.

All that night we lay beside our dead antagonist. Before dawn, the

breeze has freshened, and as the sun came up so did the sails of the

Ezekiel, and we were safe.

Our carcass lashed safely alo ngside the Ezekiel, I left the cutters

at work to take a glass of grog with the captain. He had a story to

tell. Having seen

– 94 -

my whale -boat charted so ferociously out of sight, the captain had taken

our direction before attending to the other boats, one of which lost

their whale through the depth of its soundings, so that they had to cut

the line for their life, and the other killing quickly the fine fellow

to ours. He was waiting for the breeze to bring him nearer to us, when

he sighted the very ship which we had seen. A whaler, too, but with

every tun overflowing, and so bound for home rejoicing.

Aye, my good Tony, let me if possible anticipate your guess. She was

the Isaiah from New Bedford. Our Nantucket had been correct. Had he but

known her name, I would have abandoned our carcass and rowed for her, to

get my reckoning. But let me tell you in the captain’s words. ‘She

signaled us for a Gam’ (This, my good Tony, is a word for a high seas

courtesy call between two captains.) ‘They lowered a boat, and, much to

my amazement, when the boat was manned and the captain standing at the

helm an admiral’s cradle was lowered bearing a woman. It was his

captain’s wife. She was very beautiful and still but a girl, though when

she was hauled aboard us, she told me that her little son was asleep in

her cabin. The captain was a pleasant enough fellow in his cups, and

they were plentiful. He owned his ship and had done well for himself and

crew. You may believe that I anxiously questioned him about your whaleboat, and whether he had seen it. He had not. After that, all went

merrily over drinks, but being anxious about your fate, I kept referring

to you as one of the most outstanding harpooners I had shipped with. It

was when I described

you that his wife se ized his arm and whispered. At once a cold fear

seemed to possess both. The reason I cannot explain. Immediately they

insisted upon departure. I tried to dissuade them, for in the morning I

had hoped they would have aided our search for you. However, go they

would. On porting I learned his name was Nicholas Tappitt.’

Tony, had I not chased that whale, I could have harpooned him in the

cabin of the Ezekiel —in front of her eyes, too. But I learned further

things from our captain, without in any way rousing his suspicious.

Things that may prove useful to me. Nicholas upon the voyage has

subjected his body to the stupid torture of the tattoonist. He is a mss

of symbols and designs: tattooed from head to food. It will make him at

least the more noticeable, and many inquiries after him the easier. He

is now for home, or rather, his home port. But, as he said over his

cups, he is no more for the whaling. He thinks to sail his ship into the

Caribbean Seas. He sees a great promise in piracy, I gather. Our captain

considered this but drunken boasting. I have my own opinion. Well, if

his black conscience takes him there through fear of me, it is there

that I shall follow. Who knows, Tony, but that your college friend, so

blinded with hate, which is all-consuming, may not also hoist the Jolly

Roger, and, like a lone shark, prey on pirate ships till I can kill him?

– 95 -

Chapter 15

Syn Hoists the Black Flag

Four years after the Ezekiel had sailed from Nantucket, she returned

full-laden with the richness of many a great whale. The Coffins were

more than pleased with the results, and treated Captain Clegg

generously. The Nantucket Bank, which they owned, had invested his money

credited from Albany well, so that when Syn and Mipps sailed from the

island for the port of New Bedford they were richer men. Here they

learned that Nicholas had sold the Isaiah for a good sum, and had

departed for the West Indies, where he proposed to buy another vessel

and with letters of marquee go privateering.

“I doubt whether he will trouble about the letters,” said Syn to

Mipps. “Like as not his privateering will be black piracy. Well, we know

something of that game ourselves.”

After so long at sea, Shuhshuhgah felt a hunger for his forests, but

could only be persuaded to visit his people when Syn selected a

rendezvous for a future meeting. Mipps, having been a professional

pirate, was able to supply the very place. There was a thriving tavern

in Santiago which was a popular sorting house for all the pirate news.

The landlord of “The Staunch Brotherhood” was a discreet man, who could

keep a secret so long as he was paid to do so. To this place Shuhshuhgah

was to repair whenever he felt ready to rejoin Syn. Should Syn be at

sea, the Indian, who was well provided with mone y, was to remain at this

tavern till summoned.

On their journey through the islands, Syn discovered that Nicholas

had also gone to Santiago.

“Which shows,” said Mipps, “that he’s turned pirate. It’s the chief

occupation of that there town.”

On their arrival, Syn found “The Staunch Brotherhood” to be a large,

rambling inn, built in the Spanish style with a large courtyard opening

out upon the harbour front. It was openly the resort of pirates from all

nations, where the roughest sailors jostled agai nst rich owners and

gaudily dressed captains. Riotous quarrels and the heaviest drinking

were the order of its days and nights. From his first entrance into this

place, Captain Clegg, with Mipps at his heels, made himself felt, for he

swaggered through the noisy crowd and in a ringing voice demanded the

immediate service of the landlord.

“I am Pedro the landlord,” answered a great, fat, greasy-looking

rascal, who was wise enough to size up a man before dealing with him.

“In what way can I serve you, Senor?”

“I propose staying in this town upon important business,” replied

Syn, speaking rapidly in Spanish. “I have heard this inn of yours spoken

of by my friend here as the best place for keeping one’s sword-hand in

practice. Also that your drinks are of the best. I hope for your sake

that they are. My immediate demand is that you show me the best set of

apartments, after which I shall sample your wines.”

“I will certainly show you my best rooms,” returned Pedro. “They are

very fine. Indeed, so fine that I have to make a small charge of one

gold piece to show them.”

“Travelers must pay, and landlord must live,” said Syn pleasantly.

“Here are two gold pieces. I am a generous man, but like my own way in

things, though I am willing to pay for it in reason. Lead the way.”

Taking care to hide his face from the newcomers, Pedro bestowed a sly

wink towards his friends nearest, and led the way to the outside

staircase.

– 96 -

Unlocking a door that opened upon a balcony, he led the strangers into a

set of three well-furnished rooms.

“These are my best rooms,” he said. “Since you have paid for the

privilege, you are welcome to look at them.”

“I have looked at them, and think they are magnificent,” replied Syn

casually. “I desire no better. I take them. Now bring us wine, and I

will see that our trappings are brought from the ship.”

“That is not possible,” said the landlord suavely. “These rooms are

taken by a rich customer of mine. You paid to see. You have seen.”

“Faith, sir, if this is a jest,” retorted Syn sharply, “you will find

the laugh against you. Why should I waste my time viewing rooms if not

to take them. Indeed I have taken them.”

“But you see those two chests, Senor,” went on the landlord, “they

belong to the occupier, who has gone with his wife and son to view the

ship he has had built for him. Look, here are the wife’s garments

hanging in this cupboard. The press there is also full of their finery.

He is an ugly man to cross, this great captain.”

Mipps looked at Syn, and saw a grim smile on his lips as he said, “An

ugly man to cross, eh? Well, so am I, and should this rascal captain

with his wife and boy be tattooed from head to foot, he’ll fine me yet

the uglier.”

“He has many, very many tattoo marks,” said Pedro; “but if you take a

word of caution, Senor, from one who knows him well—”

Syn interrupted with, “Take out his things, sir. I take these rooms.”

“But, Senor—” he began again.

“There are no ‘buts’ about it, my good man,” interrupted Syn again.

“Mipps, put the chests in the passage there and heap the clothes upon

them. They must find rooms elsewhere. As for you, Master Pedro, there

will be no trouble unless I make it for you. I am accustomed to be

obeyed. Is this man called Nicholas Tappitt, Nikolina Tappittero or

what? He has a habit of changing his name, I hear.”

“The captain is known here as ‘Black Nick’, returned the landlord.

Syn laughed. “Then tell Black Nick when he returns that others have

the habit of taking what does not belong to them as well as he. You’ll

find he’ll understand. If he starts trouble, send him up.”

“May I tell him your name, Senor?” asked the landlord.

“Captain Clegg,” replied Syn. “We will now drink wine together, so

make haste and bring the best. Red wine for blood, and see that it is

good. Bring rum, too, to wash it down with. But first help my man there

with that chest. It looks heavy.”

Pedro looked at Mipps as he took one end of the great chest and said,

“You have been here before—yes?”

“Been to most places, I have,” returned Mipps in bad Spanish.

When everything had been cleared and placed in the passage, the

landlord brought the drinks.

“Mind, Senor,” he said, “I take no responsibility for what Black Nick

will do to you.”

“But I take full responsibili ty for what I shall do to him,” replied

Syn. “And now give me your key of this main door. I have no mind to have

any enter when we are out. We are going now to get our baggage. Here is

gold in earnest of our good faith with you. That should carry our credit

for some days,” and

he threw down, on the table, a handful of gold pieces.

– 97 -

Then, locking the door, and closely followed by Mipps, Syn swaggered out

upon the quay.

Even amongst that crown of gorgeously dressed adventurers who

thronged the harbour, Syn stood out by reason of his magnificent

elegance and striking appearance. He wore a scarlet velvet suit trimmed

with silver braid, and round the waist of the full-skirted coat, a

silver sash that held his pistols. His high threecornered hat boasted a

fine ostrich feather, while his long legs were encased in perfectly

fitting thigh-boots, and as he strode along, the slender fingers of his

left hand rested easily upon the large, chased, silver hilt of this long

sword.

When Mipps went to en gage porters to carry their chests from the

ship, which had brought them there, and which was now busily unloading,

Syn approached a group of richly dressed adventurers who were seated at

a pavement table beneath the awning of a wine-shop. Swinging his ha t

off and bowing royally, he asked them in Spanish to do him the honour of

drinking with him. Nothing lost, for they already curious to know who he

might be, they accepted with politeness, and Syn called for the best

wine and sat down.

He told them he w as Captain Clegg, and had arrived in Santiago, but

an hour. He was here on business, he said, and did any of them know a

Captain Nicholas Tappitt, who went by the name of Black Nick?”

They smiled, and one of them answered that “Black Nick” had been the

last name in their mouths.

“Perhaps, Captain Clegg, I can explain the better,” replied the

youngest of the party, a good-looking Spaniard, who, through dressed

very foppishly, had a manly bearing which Syn admired. “I am under a

commission for this Capt ain Nicholas,” he went on. “I know the man

personally, whereas these friends of mine only know of him by

reputation, which I agree is not of the best. They have been advising me

to have nothing to do with him, but I am one capable of looking after

myself a nd for the best advantage. I will take a chance hand with fate

always, Senor, and so long as this or that employer serves my turn, I

serve him. You see that vessel anchored there beyond the harbour mouth?

He had her built. Yesterday she did her trail sailing trip. She is

superb. I am in love with that ship, though not so partial to her

captain, this Black Nick. But he has something of a genius for ships,

though, as I tell to his face, not so good a genius for dealing with

men. I find myself in position of first mate. I have a full crew aboard,

and not one of them who is not discontented or ever we put for sea.

Black Nick wants all for nothing. He has got the crew aboard under false

pretense. Their share of profit accruing from adventures is reduced to

the were minimum. They risk their necks at the yard -arm of any

Government ship for a mere pittance. I see trouble. But the ship if

sweet. Her guns are good. Her speed amazing. She has it in her to escape

or to attack, according to the captain’s mood. She is all ready for sea,

and has been so these last four days. We only wait for Black Nick

himself. He is transacting business with a gentleman from Havana, a

rich-planter and ship-owner, who is staying with the Governor of this

Town. We are to be sailing consort with two ships of his from Havana.”

Syn nodded. “And your crew are no doubt the more discontented at

being kept aboard when they might be drinking ashore?”

“Aye, and another thing,” went on the Spaniard. “The Black Nick is to

bring his wife aboard. And the men say, ‘Petticoats for all or none.”’

“To be sure petticoats are damned bad things on ships,” said Syn.

“And where will I find this Black Nick before he sails?”

– 98 -

“The Governor’s house is some two miles out in the country. He took

his wife and son out there this morning, I believe. They are to sleep

there at night, which means a further delay and more flame to feed my

men’s anger. I am now bound for The Staunch Brotherhood Inn, where he

promised to leave the orders. I delayed here purposely in order to miss

him if possible.”

“I see that you have no love for him,” said Syn. “I also see that my

faithful servant has collected my baggage and engaged porters there.

Since we lodge at ‘The Staunch Brotherhood’, perhaps you will accompany

us there.”

So, taking leave of the others, they sauntered along the quay,

followed by Mipps and the porters.

Arrived at the Inn, Pedro led Syn aside. “You had scarce been gone a

moment when they returned. They had seen you passing on to the quay. As

I was hastening to lighten the news about their rooms, they cut me short

with orders as though they were in great panic. No blame at all they

gave me. They asked me how long you would be gone, and when I told them

you were but collecting your baggage from your ship, they opened this

chest and packed the pile of clothes into it in the greatest hurry. All

this while they kept the Governor’s carriage waiting for them. When they

had locked the trunks, Black Nick gave orders that Juan Tarragona (whom

your hon our is now with) was to see their baggage upon his ship, the St.

Nicholas , and wait for them to board sometime upon the morrow. They

asked me to say nothing about these rooms which you had compelled me to

give you. your honour will therefore respect my very good faith and not

betray me. Your honour has treated me well.”

“I shall say nothing, friend Pedro,” returned Syn, smiling at the

man’s roguery. “And you in your turn will say nothing of this to Senor

Tarragona. I will give him his captain’s orders myself. And now, a word

of advice to you. You will do yourself no harm in keeping faith with me

in the future, for I shall be the means of putting much gold into your

treasure -chests. Now repeat the orders he left for that officer.”

“That he would carry the baggage aboard the St. Nicholas; keep the

ship ready for sea, as his business was sure to be completed by tomorrow

or the next day at the latest. Then the St. Nicholas is to sail towards

Havana, enter the Gulf of Batabano, to the south of it, where the

treasure -ships for escort would be waiting behind the Island de Pinos.

That is exact.”

“I will tell him,” said Syn. “And you remember to keep silent, unless

he asks for confirmation. I shall be leaving you today, but if during my

absence an American Indian called ‘The Blue Heron’ should ask for me,

you will say that Captain Clegg is aboard his ship the Imogene. He will

hear of her, I promise you, and so will you. The Indian can join me

aboard when he learns where she lies, and in the meanwhile, await news

here at my expense.”

After making Pedro repeat these instructions, Syn sent him to order

two riding-horses to take him and his servant to the Governor’s house

outside the town. He then rejoined Tarragona with the news of Black

Nick’s order, which he a ltered to serve his own purpose.

“Black Nick left messages for both of us with the landlord. You are

to take his baggage aboard the St. Nicholas immediately. You will also

show me the kindness to take mine, too, for I am to sail with you to

Havana. Now between ourselves, my friend, I am a very wealthy man, and

if I like the ships behaviour upon this trip, I shall make Black Nick an

offer for her. He wishes

us to go aboard and keep ready for sea, as he will join us in two day’s

time.”

“Ah, no,” cried Tarragona. “A further delay will man a mutiny. It was

with difficulty that I persuaded the men to keep ship today. If we do

not sail tonight, they will overpower the officers and take to the

boats. Then we shall have a fine drunken crew ashore, I promise you.”

– 99 -

“Leave it to me,” said Syn. “You go back with the baggage—mine and