The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ a bed to each of us fit for a prince. And there, with the blankets drawn up to our ears, we fell blessing our stars that we were now fairly out of our straits, and after that to discussing whether we should consult Moll’s inclination to this business. First, Dawson was for telling her plump out all about our project, saying that being so young she had no conscience to speak of, and would like nothing better than to take part in any piece of mischief. But against this I protested, seeing that it would be dangerous to our design to let her know so much (she having a woman’s tongue in her head), and also of a bad tendency to make her, as it were, at the very beginning of her life, a knowing active party to what looked like nothing more nor less than a piece of knavery. Therefore I proposed we should, when necessary, tell her just so much of our plan as was expedient, and no more. And this agreeing mightily with Jack’s natural turn for taking of short cuts out of difficulties, he fell in with my views at once, and so, bidding God bless me, he lays the clothes over his head and was snoring the next minute.

      In the morning we found the Don just as kind to us as the day before he had been careless, and so made us eat breakfast with him, to our great content. Also, he sent a maid up to Moll to enquire of her health, and if she could eat anything from our table, to which the baggage sends reply that she feels a little easier this morning and could fancy a dish of black puddings. These delicacies her father carried to her, being charged by the Don to tell her that we should be gone for a couple of days, and that in our absence she might command whatever she felt was necessary to her complete recovery against our return. Then I told Don Sanchez how we had resolved to tell Moll no more of our purpose than was necessary for the moment, which pleased him, I thought, mightily, he saying that our success or failure depended upon secrecy as much as anything, for which reason he had kept us in the dark as much as ever it was possible.

      About eight o’clock three saddle nags were brought to the door, and we, mounting, set out for London, where we arrived about ten, the roads being fairly passable save in the marshy parts about Shoreditch, where the mire was knee-deep; so to Gracious Street, and there leaving our nags at the Turk inn, we walked down to the Bridge stairs, and thence with a pair of oars to Greenwich. Here, after our tedious chilly voyage, we were not ill-pleased to see the inside of an inn once more, and Don Sanchez, taking us to the King’s posting-house, orders a fire to be lighted in a private room, and the best there was in the larder to be served us in the warm parlour. While we were at our trenchers Don Sanchez says:

      “At two o’clock two men are coming hither to see me. One is a master mariner named Robert Evans, the other a merchant adventurer of his acquaintance whom I have not yet seen. Now you are to mark these two men well, note all they say and their manner of speaking, for tomorrow you will have to personate these characters before one who would be only too glad to find you at fault.”

      “Very good, Señor,” says Dawson; “but which of these parts am I to play?”

      “That you may decide when you have seen the men, but I should say from my knowledge of Robert Evans that you may best represent his character. For in your parts today you are to be John and Christopher Knight, two needy cousins of Lady Godwin, whose husband, Sir Richard Godwin, was lost at sea seven years ago. I doubt if you will have to do anything in these characters beyond looking eager and answering merely yes and no to such questions as I may put.”

      Thus primed, we went presently to the sitting-room above, and the drawer shortly after coming to say that two gentlemen desired to see Don Sanchez, Jack and I seated ourselves side by side at a becoming distance from the Don, holding our hats on our knees as humbly as may be. Then in comes a rude, dirty fellow with a patch over one eye and a most peculiar bearish gait, dressed in a tarred coat, with a wool shawl about his neck, followed by a shrewd-visaged little gentleman in a plain cloth suit, but of very good substance, he looking just as trim and well-mannered as t’other was uncouth and rude.

      “Well, here am I,” says Evans (whom we knew at once for the master mariner), flinging his hat and shawl in a corner. “There’s his excellency Don Sanchez, and here’s Mr. Hopkins, the merchant I spoke on yesterday; and who be these?” turning about to fix us with his one blue eye.

      “Two gentlemen related to Mrs. Godwin, and very anxious for her return,” replies the Don.

      “Then we being met friends all, let’s have up a bottle and heave off on this here business without more ado,” says Evans; and with that he seats himself in the Don’s chair, pokes up the fire with his boots, and spits on the hearth.

      The Don graciously places a chair for Mr. Hopkins, rings the bell, and seats himself. Then after a few civilities while the bottle was being opened and our glasses filled, he says:

      “You have doubtless heard from Robert Evans the purpose of our coming hither, Mr. Hopkins.”

      “Roughly,” replies Mr. Hopkins, with a dry little cough. “But I should be glad to have the particulars from you, that I may judge more clearly of my responsibilities in this undertaking.”

      “Oh, Lord!” exclaims Evans, in disgust. “Here give us a pipe of tobacco if we’re to warp out half a day ere we get a capful of wind.”

      CHAPTER V.

      Don Sanchez puts us in the way of robbing with an easy conscience.

      Promising to make his story as short as he possibly could, Don Sanchez began:

      “On the coming of our present king to his throne, Sir Richard Godwin was recalled from Italy, whither he had been sent as embassador by the Protector. He sailed from Livorno with his wife and his daughter Judith, a child of nine years old at that time, in the Seahawk.”

      “I remember her,” says Evans, “as stout a ship as ever was put to sea.”

      “On the second night of her voyage the Seahawk became parted from her convoy, and the next day she was pursued and overtaken by a pair of Barbary pirates, to whom she gave battle.”

      “Aye, and I’d have done the same,” cries Evans, “though they had been a score.”

      “After a long and bloody fight,” continues Don Sanchez, “the corsairs succeeded in boarding the Seahawk and overcoming the remnant of her company.”

      “Poor hearts! would I had been there to help ’em,” says Evans.

      “Exasperated by the obstinate resistance of these English and their own losses, the pirates would grant no mercy, but tying the living to the dead they cast all overboard save Mrs. Godwin and her daughter. Her lot was even worse; for her wounded husband, Sir Richard, was snatched from her arms and flung into the sea before her eyes, and he sank crying farewell to her.”

      “These Turks have no hearts in their bellies, you must understand,” explains Evans. “And nought but venom in their veins.”

      “The Seahawk was taken to Alger, and there Mrs. Godwin and her daughter were sold for slaves in the public market-place.”

      “I have seen ’em sold by the score there,” says Evans, “and fetch but an onion a head.”

      “By good fortune the mother and daughter were bought by Sidi ben Moula, a rich old merchant who was smitten by the pretty, delicate looks of Judith, whom he thenceforth treated as if she had been his own child. In this condition they lived with greater happiness than falls to the lot of most slaves, until the beginning of last year, when Sidi died, and his possessions fell to his brother, Bare ben Moula. Then Mrs. Godwin appeals to Bare for her liberty and to be sent home to her country, saying that what price (in reason) he chooses to set upon their heads she will pay from her estate in England—a thing which she had proposed СКАЧАТЬ