Martin Conisby's Vengeance. Jeffery Farnol

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СКАЧАТЬ let fly their shot in answer and made off forthwith. Deserted thus, the wounded man scrambled to hands and knees and began to creep painfully after his fellows, beseeching their aid and cursing them by turns. Hearing a shrill laugh, I turned to see the fugitive reach for and level another of my weapons at this wounded wretch, but, leaping on him as he gave fire, I knocked up the muzzle of the piece so that the bullet soared harmlessly into the air. Uttering a strange, passionate cry, the fugitive sprang back and snatching out an evil-looking knife, made at me, and all so incredibly quick that it was all I could do to parry the blow; then, or ever he might strike again, I caught that murderous arm, and, for all his slenderness and seeming youth, a mighty desperate tussle we made of it ere I contrived to twist the weapon from his grasp and fling him panting to the sward, where I pinned him beneath my foot. Then as I reached for the knife where it had fallen, he cried out to me in his shrill, strangely clear voice, and with sudden, fierce hands wrenched apart the laces and fine linens at his breast:

      "Stay!" cried he. "Don't kill me—you cannot!"

      Now looking down on him where he lay gasping and writhing beneath my foot,

       I started back all in a moment, back until I was stayed by the rampire, for

       I saw that here was no man but a young and comely woman.

CHAPTER II

       Table of Contents

      MY TROUBLES BEGIN

      Whiles I yet stood, knife in hand, staring at her and mute for wonder, she pulled off the close-fitting seaman's bonnet she wore and scowling up at me shook down the abundant tresses of her hair.

      "Beast!" said she. "Oh, beast—you hurt me!"

      "Who are you?" I questioned.

      "One that doth hate you!" Here she took a silver comb from her pocket and fell to smoothing her hair; and as she sat thus cross-legged upon the grass, I saw that the snowy linen at throat and bosom was spotted with great gouts of blood.

      "Are ye wounded?" quoth I, pointing to these ugly stains.

      "Bah! 'Tis none of mine, fool! 'Tis the blood of Cestiforo!"

      "Who is he?"

      "The captain of yon ship."

      "How cometh his blood on you?"

      "'Twas when I killed him."

      "You—killed him?"

      "Aye—he wearied me. So do all my lovers, soon or late."

      Now as I looked on this woman, the strange, sullen beauty of her (despite her masculine apparel) as she sat thus combing her long hair and foul with a dead man's blood, I bethought me of the wild tales I had heard of female daemons, succubi and the like, so that I felt my flesh chill and therewith a great disgust and loathing of her, insomuch that, not abiding the sight of her, I turned away and thus beheld a thing the which filled me with sudden, great dismay: for there, her sails spread to the fitful wind, I saw the ship standing out to sea, bearing with her all my hopes of escape from this hated island. Thus stood I, watching deliverance fade on my sight, until the ship was no more than a speck upon the moon-bright waters and all other thoughts 'whelmed and lost in raging despair. And now I was roused by a question sudden and imperious:

      "Who are you?"

      "'Tis no matter."

      "How came you here?"

      "'Tis no matter for that, either."

      "Are you alone?"

      "Aye!"

      "Then wherefore trouble to shave your beard?"

      "'Tis a whim."

      "Are you alone?"

      "I was."

      "And I would you were again."

      "So do I."

      "You are Englishman—yes?"

      "I am."

      "My mother was English—a poor thing that spent her days weeping and died of her tears when I was small—ah, very small, on this island."

      "Here?" quoth I, staring.

      "Twenty and one years agone!" said she, combing away at her glossy hair.

       "My mother was English like you, but my father was a noble gentleman of

       Spain and Governor of Santa Catalina, Don Esteban da Silva y Montreale, and

       killed by Tressady—Black Tressady—"

      "What, Roger Tressady—o' the Hook?"

      "True, Señor Englishman," said she softly and glancing up at me through her hair; "he hath a hook very sharp and bright, in place of his left hand. You know him? He is your friend—yes?"

      "I know him for a cursed pirate and murderer!"

      "Moi aussi, mon ami!" said she, fixing me with her great eyes. "I am pirate, yes—and have used dagger and pistol ere to-day and shall again."

      "And wear a woman's shape!"

      "Ha—yes, yes!" cried she, gnashing her teeth. "And there's my curse—I am woman and therefore do hate all women. But my soul is a man's so do I use all men to my purpose, snare them by my woman's arts and make of 'em my slaves. See you; there is none of all my lovers but doth obey me, and so do I rule, with ships and men at my command and fearing no man—"

      "And yet," said I, interrupting, "you came fleeing hither to save your life from yonder rabblement."

      "Tush—these were mostly drunken rogues that knew me not, 'listed but late from a prize we took and burned. I shall watch them die yet! Soon shall come Belvedere in the Happy Despatch to my relief, or Rodriquez of the Vengeance or Rory or Sol—one or other or all shall come a-seeking me, soon or late. Meantime, I bide here and 'tis well you stayed me from killing you, for though I love not Englishmen, I love solitude less, so are you safe from me so long as we be solitary. Ah—you smile because you are fool and know me not yet! Ah, ah—mayhap you shall grow wiser anon. But now," said she, rising and putting away her comb, "bring me where I may eat, for I am famished with hunger."

      "Also you are very foul of blood!" said I.

      "Yes," says she soft-voiced, and glancing from me to her stained finery and back again. "Yes. And is this so great a matter?"

      "To-night you murdered a man!"

      "I killed him—yes. Cestiforo—he was drunk. And was this so great a matter?"

      "And you—a woman!" said I, marvelling.

      "Aye, to my sorrow!" said she, gnashing white teeth, "Yet am I strong as a man and bolder than most."

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