The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ and to adopt Judith as his child, being of a more avaricious turn than his brother, at length consents to it, on condition that her ransoms be paid before she quits Barbary. And so, casting about how this may be done, Mrs. Godwin finds a captive whose price has been paid, about to be taken to Palma in the Baleares, and to him she entrusts two letters.” Here Don Sanchez pulls two folded sheets of vellum from his pocket, and presenting one to me, he says:

      “Mayhap you recognise this hand, Mr. Knight.”

      And I, seeing the signature Elizabeth Godwin, answers quickly enough: “Aye, ’tis my dear cousin Bess, her own hand.”

      “This,” says the Don, handing the other to Evans, “you may understand.”

      “I can make out ’tis writ in the Moorish style,” says Evans, “but the meaning of it I know not, for I can’t tell great A from a bull’s foot though it be in printed English.”

      “’Tis an undertaking on the part of Bare ben Moula,” says the Don, “to deliver up at Dellys in Barbary the persons of Mrs. Godwin and her daughter against the payment of five thousand gold ducats within one year. The other writing tells its own story.”

      Mr. Hopkins took the first sheet from me and read it aloud. It was addressed to Mr. Richard Godwin, Hurst Court, Chislehurst in Kent, and after giving such particulars of her past as we had already heard from Don Sanchez, she writes thus: “And now, my dear nephew, as I doubt not you (as the nearest of my kindred to my dear husband after us two poor relicts) have taken possession of his estate in the belief we were all lost in our voyage from Italy, I do pray you for the love of God and of mercy to deliver us from our bondage by sending hither a ship with the money for our ransoms forthwith, and be assured by this that I shall not dispossess you of your fortune (more than my bitter circumstances do now require), so that I but come home to die in a Christian country and have my sweet Judith where she may be less exposed to harm than in this infidel country. I count upon your love—being ever a dear nephew—and am your most hopeful, trusting, and loving aunt, Elizabeth Godwin.”

      “Very well, sir,” says Mr. Hopkins, returning the letter. “You have been to Chislehurst.”

      “I have,” answers the Don, “and there I find the estate in the hands of a most curious Puritanical steward, whose honesty is rather in the letter than the spirit. For though I have reason to believe that not one penny’s value of the estate has been misemployed since it has been in his hands, yet will he give nothing—no, not a maravedi to the redemption of his mistress, saying that the letter is addressed to Richard Godwin and not to him, etc., and that he hath no power to pay out monies for this purpose, even though he believed the facts I have laid before him—which for his own ends doubtless he fains to misdoubt.”

      “As a trader, sir,” says Mr. Hopkins, “I cannot blame his conduct in that respect. For should the venture fall through, the next heir might call upon him to repay out of his own pocket all that he had put into this enterprise. But this Mr. Richard Godwin, what of him?”

      “He is nowhere to be found. The only relatives I have been able to discover are these two gentlemen.”

      “Who,” remarks Mr. Hopkins, with a shrewd glance at our soiled clothes, “are not, I venture to think, in a position to pay their cousin’s ransom.”

      “Alas, no, sir,” says Jack. “We are but two poor shopkeepers of London undone by the great fire.”

      “Well now, sir,” says Mr. Hopkins, fetching an inkpot, a pen, and a piece of paper from his pocket. “I may conclude that you wish me to adventure upon the redemption of these two ladies in Barbary, upon the hazard of being repaid by Mrs. Godwin when she recovers her estate.” And the Don making him a reverence, he continues, “We must first learn the extent of our liabilities. What sum is to be paid to Bare ben Moula?”

      “Five thousand gold ducats—about two thousand pounds English.”

      “Two thousand,” says Mr. Hopkins, writing. “Then, Robert Evans, what charge is yours for fetching the ladies from Dellys?”

      “Master Hopkins, I have said fifteen hundred pounds,” says he, “and I won’t go from my word though all laugh at me for a madman.”

      “That seems a great deal of money,” says Mr. Hopkins.

      “Well, if you think fifteen hundred pounds too much for my carcase and a ship of twenty men, you can go seek a cheaper market elsewhere.”

      “You think there is very small likelihood of coming back alive?”

      “Why, comrade, ’tis as if you should go into a den of lions and hope to get out whole; for though I have the Duke’s pass, these Moors are no fitter to be trusted than a sackful of serpents. ’Tis ten to one our ship be taken, and we fools all sold into slavery.”

      “Ten to one,” says Mr. Hopkins; “that is to say, you would make this voyage for the tenth part of what you ask were you sure of returning safe.”

      “I would go as far anywhere outside the straits for an hundred pounds with a lighter heart.”

      Mr. Hopkins nods his head, and setting down some figures on his paper, says:

      “The bare outlay in hard money amounts to thirty-five hundred pounds. Reckoning the risk at Robert Evans’ own valuation (which I take to be a very low one), I must see reasonable prospect of winning thirty-five thousand pounds by my hazard.”

      “Mrs. Godwin’s estate I know to be worth double that amount.”

      “But who will promise me that return?” asks Mr. Hopkins. “Not you?” (The Don shook his head.) “Not you?” (turning to us, with the same result). “Not Mrs. Godwin, for we have no means of communicating with her. Not the steward—you have shown me that. Who then remains but this Richard Godwin who cannot be found? If,” adds he, getting up from his seat, “you can find Richard Godwin, put him in possession of the estate, and obtain from him a reasonable promise that this sum shall be paid on the return of Mrs. Godwin, I may feel disposed to consider your proposal more seriously. But till then I can do nothing.”

      “Likewise, masters all,” says Evans, fetching his hat and shawl from the corner, “I can’t wait for a blue moon; and if so be we don’t sign articles in a week, I’m off of my bargain, and mighty glad to get out of it so cheap.”

      “You see,” says Don Sanchez, when they were gone out of the room, “how impossible it is that Mrs. Godwin and her daughter shall be redeemed from captivity. Tomorrow I shall show you what kind of a fellow the steward is that he should have the handling of this fortune rather than we.”

      Then presently, with an indifferent, careless air, as if ’twas nought, he gives us a purse and bids us go out in the town to furnish ourselves with what disguise was necessary to our purpose. Therewith Dawson gets him some seaman’s old clothes at a Jew’s, and I a very neat, presentable suit of cloth, etc., and the rest of the money we take back to Don Sanchez without taking so much as a penny for our other uses; but he, doing all things very magnificent, would have none of it, but bade us keep it against our other necessities. And now having his money in our pockets, we felt ’twould be more dishonest to go back from this business than to go forward with it, lead us whither it might.

      Next morning off we go betimes, Jack more like Robert Evans than his mother’s son, and I a most seeming substantial man (so that the very stable lad took off his hat to me), and on very good horses a long ride to Chislehurst And there coming to a monstrous СКАЧАТЬ