Porto Bello Gold by Arthur D. Howden Smith

Author:Arthur D. Howden Smith [Smith, Arthur D. Howden]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

XIII. Trouble Boards the Royal James

* * *

The silence was oppressive as we ascended the poop ladder. A last babble of Latin ended on an hysterical note. The Spanish captain glared his hatred, gnawing at his hands as he leaned against the rail, and when my great-uncle drew a laced handkerchief from his coat pocket and began to wipe clean his red blade ‘twas more than Don Ascanio could stand. He stalked to the far side of the deck, rumbling curses, and fixed his gaze upon the purple hills of Hispaniola. Behind the steering-wheel the black flock of religious gathered closer under the great, gilded lanthorn which crowned the high, pulpit-like recess intended to protect the helmsman; and amongst those cowled shavenheads and shapeless swathed forms the slim grace and sunny, blue eyes of Moira O’Donnell were as patent as the growing fear with which her father met us.

My great-uncle nodded a satisfaction I was unable to comprehend.

“A fair maid, Robert!” he exclaimed. “Well, well! This is fine. I might ask no better. I congratulate you, chevalier,” he added to O’Donnell. “Your daughter is as dainty a little lady as I have seen in a long life.”

O’Donnell understood his mood no better than I.

“I wish she was out of this,” he growled resentfully. “Don Ascanio has placed the conduct of matters in my hands. What is next? Must you—”

He gestured expressively toward the vessel beneath us.

“It seems— I—I find myself— ‘Tis a nauseating prospect— Several hundred men—and priests and nuns, Murray— Aye, a cardinal sin, one I’ll never have absolution for, whatever betide—”

“You concern yourself without cause,” said Murray soothingly. “We have arranged it differently, and to that end I shall act a part with your daughter which you must support; aye, to the offering of violence. And now, tell me, where is the treasure?”

“In the lazaret.”

“Master Saunders!” called my great-uncle.

The second mate thrust his way to the front of the mob of pirates on the main deck.

“Take fifty men and break out a quantity of treasure from the lazaret of the prize.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” returned Saunders, and the pirates fell over themselves in their alacrity to have a hand in his business.

My great-uncle concluded the cleaning of his sword, crossed to the larboard railing and tossed the bloodied handkerchief overboard.

“Oh, Master Martin,” he hailed the mate on the poop of the Royal James.

“Aye, aye, sir,” answered Martin. “———— ——— ——— ——— my gizzards for a ——— ———, but we ha’ done a clean job this morning.”

“I find myself in agreement with your sentiments, Martin,” replied my great-uncle. “Be so good as to have a whip rigged from the foreyard-arm to sling aboard the treasure which Saunders is breaking out. You will also tell off a score or two of men to make any essential repairs at once. I would have the ship ready to sail as soon as we cast off, which will be the moment the prize’s cargo is transshipped.”

“Aye, aye, sir, I’ll attend to it all myself,” Martin assured him.

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