Название: The Collected Works of Rafael Sabatini
Автор: Rafael Sabatini
Издательство: Bookwire
Жанр: Языкознание
isbn: 4064066400200
isbn:
It was a thunderbolt that for a moment left them all dazed. Then Babel was reenacted. The main body of them welcomed the announcement as only men who have been preparing to die can welcome a new lease of life. But many could not resolve one way or the other until they were satisfied upon several questions, and chiefly upon one which was voiced by Ogle.
“Will Bishop respect the commission when you hold it?”
It was Lord Julian who answered:
“It will go very hard with him if he attempts to flout the King’s authority. And though he should dare attempt it, be sure that his own officers will not dare to do other than oppose him.”
“Aye,” said Ogle, “that is true.”
But there were some who were still in open and frank revolt against the course. Of these was Wolverstone, who at once proclaimed his hostility.
“I’ll rot in hell or ever I serves the King,” he bawled in a great rage.
But Blood quieted him and those who thought as he did.
“No man need follow me into the King’s service who is reluctant. That is not in the bargain. What is in the bargain is that I accept this service with such of you as may choose to follow me. Don’t think I accept it willingly. For myself, I am entirely of Wolverstone’s opinion. I accept it as the only way to save us all from the certain destruction into which my own act may have brought us. And even those of you who do not choose to follow me shall share the immunity of all, and shall afterwards be free to depart. Those are the terms upon which I sell myself to the King. Let Lord Julian, the representative of the Secretary of State, say whether he agrees to them.”
Prompt, eager, and clear came his lordship’s agreement. And that was practically the end of the matter. Lord Julian, the butt now of good-humouredly ribald jests and half-derisive acclamations, plunged away to his cabin for the commission, secretly rejoicing at a turn of events which enabled him so creditably to discharge the business on which he had been sent.
Meanwhile the bo’sun signalled to the Jamaica ships to send a boat, and the men in the waist broke their ranks and went noisily flocking to line the bulwarks and view the great stately vessels that were racing down towards them.
As Ogle left the quarter-deck, Blood turned, and came face to face with Miss Bishop. She had been observing him with shining eyes, but at sight of his dejected countenance, and the deep frown that scarred his brow, her own expression changed. She approached him with a hesitation entirely unusual to her. She set a hand lightly upon his arm.
“You have chosen wisely, sir,” she commended him, “however much against your inclinations.”
He looked with gloomy eyes upon her for whom he had made this sacrifice.
“I owed it to you—or thought I did,” he said.
She did not understand. “Your resolve delivered me from a horrible danger,” she admitted. And she shivered at the memory of it. “But I do not understand why you should have hesitated when first it was proposed to you. It is an honourable service.”
“King James’s?” he sneered.
“England’s,” she corrected him in reproof. “The country is all, sir; the sovereign naught. King James will pass; others will come and pass; England remains, to be honourably served by her sons, whatever rancour they may hold against the man who rules her in their time.”
He showed some surprise. Then he smiled a little. “Shrewd advocacy,” he approved it. “You should have spoken to the crew.”
And then, the note of irony deepening in his voice: “Do you suppose now that this honourable service might redeem one who was a pirate and a thief?”
Her glance fell away. Her voice faltered a little in replying. “If he... needs redeeming. Perhaps... perhaps he has been judged too harshly.”
The blue eyes flashed, and the firm lips relaxed their grim set.
“Why... if ye think that,” he said, considering her, an odd hunger in his glance, “life might have its uses, after all, and even the service of King James might become tolerable.”
Looking beyond her, across the water, he observed a boat putting off from one of the great ships, which, hove to now, were rocking gently some three hundred yards away. Abruptly his manner changed. He was like one recovering, taking himself in hand again. “If you will go below, and get your gear and your woman, you shall presently be sent aboard one of the ships of the fleet.” He pointed to the boat as he spoke.
She left him, and thereafter with Wolverstone, leaning upon the rail, he watched the approach of that boat, manned by a dozen sailors, and commanded by a scarlet figure seated stiffly in the stern sheets. He levelled his telescope upon that figure.
“It’ll not be Bishop himself,” said Wolverstone, between question and assertion.
“No.” Blood closed his telescope. “I don’t know who it is.”
“Ha!” Wolverstone vented an ejaculation of sneering mirth. “For all his eagerness, Bishop’d be none so willing to come, hisself. He’s been aboard this hulk afore, and we made him swim for it that time. He’ll have his memories. So he sends a deputy.”
This deputy proved to be an officer named Calverley, a vigorous, self-sufficient fellow, comparatively fresh from England, whose manner made it clear that he came fully instructed by Colonel Bishop upon the matter of how to handle the pirates.
His air, as he stepped into the waist of the Arabella, was haughty, truculent, and disdainful.
Blood, the King’s commission now in his pocket, and Lord Julian standing beside him, waited to receive him, and Captain Calverley was a little taken aback at finding himself confronted by two men so very different outwardly from anything that he had expected. But he lost none of his haughty poise, and scarcely deigned a glance at the swarm of fierce, half-naked fellows lounging in a semicircle to form a background.
“Good-day to you, sir,” Blood hailed him pleasantly. “I have the honour to give you welcome aboard the Arabella. My name is Blood—Captain Blood, at your service. You may have heard of me.”
Captain Calverley stared hard. The airy manner of this redoubtable buccaneer was hardly what he had looked for in a desperate fellow, compelled to ignominious surrender. A thin, sour smile broke on the officer’s haughty lips.
“You’ll ruffle it to the gallows, no doubt,” he said contemptuously. “I suppose that is after the fashion of your kind. Meanwhile it’s your surrender I require, my man, not your impudence.”
Captain Blood appeared surprised, pained. He turned in appeal to Lord Julian.
“D’ye hear that now? And did ye ever hear the like? But what did I tell ye? Ye see, the young gentleman’s under a misapprehension entirely. Perhaps it’ll save broken bones if your lordship explains just who and what I am.”
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