Read Ebook: The Corsair King by J Kai M R Safford Mary J Translator
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Ebook has 689 lines and 26333 words, and 14 pages
"Nothing," said Barthelemy. "We promised that we would not harm a hair of your head."
"Yes," returned the other mournfully, "but if you release the captain, and me with him, what is to become of me?"
"I don't know," returned the corsair-chief, shrugging his shoulders.
Skyrme laughed aloud. "That's a splendid joke!"
"For heaven's sake! What shall I say to you?" stammered Scudamore, throwing himself at Barthelemy's feet. "Oh, gentlemen, don't leave me in this man's power, he will have no mercy on me. He is a horrible villain."
"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Skyrme. "Don't spoil this joke, captain. When you set the commander of the brigantine free, let him take this fellow with him; what a fine lot of talk there will be when they call him to account at home for the service he has rendered us."
"Gentlemen! Brave men!" shrieked Scudamore clasping Barthelemy's knees. "Surely you are only jesting with me. It amuses you to drive me to desperation in this way, but you will not really ruin me. You cannot forget that I have rendered you an important service, and shall perform still more. I am a physician; you need one, take me with you. I will be just such a man, such a devil as all the rest, I'll be no disgrace to your band. You will never repent having made my acquaintance. I beseech, I implore you to say a good word to the captain for me. Oh, you good, brave man, you leader with the face of a hero, give me your hand, that I may kiss it."
"What! a surgeon among us!" growled Moody, who was still bound to the mast, "a surgeon who, whenever one of our band is wounded in the hand or foot, will cut it off? A living human saw? A poisoner, who won't let a man die in peace? I've no use for him. Throw him out of the ship, or I'll kill him."
"Not another word, Moody!" cried Barthelemy. "It is my wish, and so it shall be. You manage the ropes and sails, but you need not trouble yourself about anything else."
"I beg you, sir," said Scudamore, "not to vex our valiant captain, you seem to be such a worthy man, I know I shall have the warmest regard for you."
"Come nearer, so that I can see you," said Moody. And when Scudamore approached near enough for him to reach him with his foot, he gave him such a kick that he nearly fell over backward.
"Men!" shouted Barthelemy, "bring me the cat o' nine tails. Give this man thirty blows on the back. Whoever disobeys me must suffer for it."
The nine-lashed scourge was instantly brought. "To work at once!" Barthelemy commanded. "No one is exempt from punishment."
Moody's eyes fairly started from their sockets with rage, and when the man bearing the cat o' nine tails approached him, he began to throw himself frantically to the right and left, but thereby only caused the blows to fall on him haphazard, till at last one knocked the pipe from his mouth.
Barthelemy coolly awaited the end of the punishment, and then called Scudamore to write his name in the list of pirates. Scudamore seized the pen with eager joy, and wrote his signature with such horrible glee that even the robbers were startled, and then, turning to Captain Rolls, exclaimed scornfully:
"When you reach London, inform the government of my new occupation."
Skyrme laid his huge hand on his shoulder and muttered between his teeth: "You scoundrel, you'll make a first-class devil."
"At least as good as any of you."
From that moment, Scudamore felt perfectly at home in his new sphere, looking at the list with his name enrolled as if it were some diabolical patent of nobility, and eyeing Captain Rolls with the air of a newly appointed official surveying his former comrades.
"Now, Captain Rolls," said Barthelemy, "you can take possession of your ship. But that we may not leave our mate here in exchange for your doctor, loose Moody from the mast."
Two pirates obeyed the command, avoiding the feet of the chief mate, who was trying to deal them a severe kick. When he found his hands free, his first act was to give the nearest liberator a heavy blow, and the second to pick up his short pipe and put it between his lips.
"Moody!" said the captain, folding his arms, "I just punished you as your commander's subordinate; now that it is over we again stand man to man; if you feel that I have wronged you, take your weapons. I am ready to give you any satisfaction and, if you desire, will fight with you."
Moody did not utter a syllable in reply, but hastily threw off his coat, rolled up his sleeves, loosed his collar and, with sparkling eyes, eagerly looked about for a weapon.
"Give him arms," said Barthelemy; "which will you have, pistol or sabre?"
"Give me a sword," gasped Moody hoarsely, "we shall be nearer each other."
"Make room for this brave man, lads; keep out of the reach of his arm, for he'll strike at any one. Excuse our fighting in your ship, Captain Rolls, but satisfaction must be given in the presence of those who witnessed the offence. Well, Moody, are you ready? Give a signal, when you are ready."
Moody, however, required few preparations, and as soon as he seized the sword, with the flat of whose blade he dealt a severe blow on the back of the person who handed it, he began to strike furiously around him in every direction, so that had twelve men stood near he would have mowed them all down--only he failed to hit the one directly in front of him.
Barthelemy seemed to be merely toying with him. He scarcely moved his arm to parry the strokes which his adversary's fury did not suffer him to calculate.
"Take care--you are running directly upon my sword--Moody, don't put your own eyes out. Look, I am not standing where you are aiming. Don't strike at me so fiercely, I shall think you want to kill me."
It was a true robber-fray; for the rage of one adversary, the jests of the other, the rude laughter of the bystanders, the jeering, irritating remarks do not occur in duels between gentlemen.
The loud laughter of the pirates enraged the chief mate still more, and he grew fairly frantic when, glancing aside, he saw among them Dr. Scudamore, who had spread out his surgical instruments on his knees, and was gazing at him with a look of diabolical pleasure in his green eyes. Turning from the captain he rushed directly at the surgeon.
"Oho, my good fellow, don't run overboard," said Barthelemy, barring his way, upon which Moody, his face distorted by rage, again attacked him. Barthelemy avoided the blow and pierced his right arm. The chief mate instantly picked up his sword with his left hand; the foes again confronted each other, breast to breast.
Then Barthelemy, with a clever trick of fence, struck his antagonist's sword from his grasp and, setting his foot upon it, seized him by the throat and flung him among his companions.
Scudamore officiously ran forward to aid the wounded man.
"Don't come here!" roared Moody hoarsely, "or I'll tear you to pieces and put you on my wounds, as the ourang outang does leaves."
The chief mate would not allow his injuries to be bandaged, but though bleeding profusely, struggled with his companions till they bound one arm to a beam; and continued to strike about him with the injured one till that too, was bound, after which he kicked violently and when his feet were also tied, bit like a mad dog. They were obliged even to gag him before the doctor could bandage his wounds, and stanch the blood.
"How bad the old gentleman's teeth are," said Scudamore, with a malicious twinkle in his eyes. "We shall probably have to pull out some of them."
Moody could make no reply to this hideous threat except a roar like a wild beast's, and could not even bite the hand which the doctor passed over him.
Meanwhile Barthelemy had had the brigantine's crew released and told them that they would find all their weapons in the mate's cabin, whose key he would give them when he left the Neptune.
With these words he approached Rolls, bowed courteously, and held out his hand. After a short pause the latter clasped it, saying:
"Very well, I will take it, in the hope that we may meet again."
"I hope this will happen soon. A presentiment tells me that some day I shall kill you in a victorious battle, Captain Rolls."
"And one tells me that I shall get you hung, Robert Barthelemy."
"I will accept it, and trust that you will be fully repaid."
"Oh, it's not worth talking about. I would willingly lend you a few cannons, that you may not be captured on the way."
"I advise you not to do so, for if I had even two guns, I would try to recover my stolen silver."
"You are a good fellow. We shall meet again somewhere. Till then, farewell."
The two captains shook hands with each other. Meanwhile the pirates had rolled several casks of biscuit and water from their vessel to the brigantine. Barthelemy gave the sailors the key and, with a bound, reached the deck of his own ship, the pirates shoved off from the Neptune and, with three cheers, set sail. Half an hour later, two vessels were seen moving across the sea in opposite directions, widening the space between them every moment.
In Hispaniola
Robert Barthelemy's name became known everywhere on the high seas. Holland and Portuguese sailors trembled before him; for when they recognized his vessel and, after a desperate chase, gained the shelter of a harbor, he followed them, robbed them under the very guns of the port and, if attacked, ordered the town to be bombarded and its fortifications given to the flames.
There was no end to the marvelous tales related about him.
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