Chapter 22 The Black Swan by Rafael Sabatini
The Madness of Priscilla
In the great cabin of the Royal Mary sat Miss Priscilla with Major Sands, Sir Henry Morgan, and Monsieur de Bernis. It was by the Frenchman's request that those other two had been brought below, so that they might learn at the same time what yet remained to be learnt in explanation of events which they had so closely shared.
They were seated about the table, and with them sat Captain Aldridge, a spare, lantern-jawed, middle-aged man of a sallow complexion, who, under the Admiral, Sir Henry Morgan, commanded the Royal Mary.
Monsieur de Bernis was quietly talking, giving them closer details of the adventure and of the manner in which he had gone about carrying out his undertaking to secure the coveted head of Tom Leach.
Priscilla, so abruptly lifted out of her terrible apprehensions, sat with senses still swimming from the shocks they had sustained that morning, scarcely daring to credit what she heard and what she had seen. Major Sands was wrapped in gloom. His feelings were mixed and fraught with apprehensions. He could not even pretend that he rejoiced in this solution, although he could scarcely yet analyse his true feelings.
Morgan alone was in high glee, despite the fact that he had lost a wager of five hundred pounds. Relieved of the shadow that had been hanging over him, the dread of drastic action against him at Whitehall if Tom Leach were to continue his ravages upon the seas, he was boisterously hilarious. Once or twice he interrupted the narrative with ribald comments delivered in explosions of laughter, and in the sing-song tones that proclaimed his Welsh origin.
He was loudest in his hilarity when de Bernis gave him the facts of the boarding of the Centaur by Leach and the manner in which he had met the pirate.
'Oddsfish! If ever there was a rogue who knew how to pluck victory from defeat, how to win advantage from disaster, you are that rogue, indeed, Charles. It's not the first time ye've pushed back the springs of a gin that held ye. Ye may thank the ready fertility of your lying. Faith! Ye've a great gift of it, whatever.'
'If ye mean the fable of the Spanish plate fleet,' said de Bernis, 'you are not to suppose that was an invention of the moment. It had been long premeditated. It was the lure with which from the outset I had meant to draw Leach to Maldita. The fact that he was in need of careening was no more than I expected of him. He always was; for he was always a bad seaman.'
When the tale was done, and whilst Sir Henry was ladling out a punch of rum and limes and sugar which the steward had prepared for them, Captain Aldridge stirred in his chair to ask a question.
'You have made all clear but one thing. What I don't understand is why you should have fought Leach this morning when we were already off Maldita. Since you knew that we had but to close our grip so as to hold him, why the devil should you have risked your life against him?'
'Risk?' Monsieur de Bernis was contemptuous. 'That was no risk. Leach may have been a swordsman to pirates; to a swordsman he was just a pirate.'
'Ye'll need a better answer, Charles,' Morgan admonished him. For once de Bernis appeared self-conscious. He hesitated; then shrugged.
'Oh, there were reasons, of course. For one thing I owed it to him.' Almost unconsciously his dark eyes travelled to Priscilla, who was steadily regarding him, then back again to Morgan's great yellow countenance. 'He had used expressions to be answered in no other way, and he had done things payment for which I choose to regard as my personal concern. Besides, Morgan, if Leach had been alive when you hove in sight, be sure there would have been no such tame surrender. His was a very desperate spirit.'
'Ah, bah! What could he have done, trapped here?'
'He could have taken to the woods with his men, just as I told you in the message Miss Priscilla bore you; and there you could not have pursued him. He might have lived to recommence. Even if he did not, before he came by his end he might have wrought such evil as I must have accounted beyond repair.'
'Why, what could he have done? What evil?' Morgan pressed him.
Again Monsieur de Bernis hesitated a little. Then, with an abrupt gesture, he indicated Major Sands and Miss Priscilla Harradine.
'This gentleman and this lady would have remained in his hands if he had chosen defiance. And that from the nature of him he certainly would have chosen.'
Morgan's brows went up, as he looked at the Major. It was as if he marvelled that de Bernis should have been moved to risks for that popinjay. But they came down again when his glance travelled on to Miss Priscilla. He guffawed his sudden understanding, and slapped the table with his great hand.
'So! So! Damme, it becomes plain. There was a rivalry between ye. Madam said you had been mighty gallant.'
His elephantine body shook with laughter. The roar of it reverberated through the cabin. The Major coughed and scowled. Miss Priscilla's face flamed scarlet, and her troubled, indignant eyes reproved the indecent mirth. The lean, leathern face of Aldridge was distended in a sour grin.
Only Monsieur de Bernis remained entirely impassive. He waited patiently until the Admiral's laughter had diminished. Then he spoke icily.
'The King may have made you a knight and he may have made you Governor of Jamaica; but in spite of it, Morgan, you remain just what God made you, and why He should have made you at all remains inscrutable. Pray pay no heed to him, Priscilla. Though he sits in the cabin, by his manners his proper place is the forecastle.'
'Damn your sour tongue, whatever!' Morgan answered him, without malice, laughter still bubbling in him. He raised his glass to the lady. 'No offence, ma'am. My homage to you. I toast your happy deliverance, oh, and yours, Major Shore.'
'Major Sands, sir,' snapped the soldier, looking his disgust of the old buccaneer.
'Same thing,' laughed Morgan, to increase that disgust.
Captain Aldridge cleared his throat, and sat squarely to the table. 'Shall we come to business, Sir Henry? What's to be done with these rascals ashore?'
'Ah, yes, indeed. To be sure.' He looked at de Bernis. 'What should you say, Charles?'
Monsieur de Bernis answered promptly. 'First send a crew to take possession of the Centaur and repair the damage you've done to her. Then order the guns of the Black Swan to be hauled to the head of the bluff and cast into the sea. When that's done, open fire on the hull where she lies careened ashore, and demolish her. After that we can go home.'
'And leave those cut-throats free?' cried Aldridge, scandalized.
Nor was he the only one to experience that emotion. The Major, emboldened by a gust of indignation, ventured to interpose.
'That is the advice of a pirate! Stab me, it is! The advice of a pirate! Monsieur de Bernis has the fellow-feeling of one buccaneer for another. That's plain.'
An utter silence of amazement followed that explosion. Very slowly Sir Henry Morgan turned his eyes upon the speaker. He slewed his bulk round on his chair, so that he might the more squarely confront the soldier.
'And who the devil desired your views?' he asked.
The Major got up in a heat, outraged that any one of these ruffians should take such a tone with him. 'You seem to overlook, sir, that I hold the King's commission, and that...'
'Hold what the hell you please, sir,' Morgan trumpeted to interrupt him. 'I ask you how the devil this concerns you?'
'I am telling you, sir, that I hold the King's commission.'
'The King has my sympathy, by God! Sit down, man. You're interrupting business. Sit down!'
But the Major was not disposed to be browbeaten, particularly in the presence of Miss Priscilla. Circumstances of late had compelled him to submit to play a part in which there was no glory and little dignity. But from those circumstances he was now happily delivered. He was no longer on an island, at the mercy of a gang of cut-throats; but on board a vessel of the Crown, where his rank must be recognized and respected, so that he insisted upon his due.
'You shall hear me, sir,' he answered, and was not deterred by the deepening scowl on Sir Henry's brow. 'It is my right to be heard. My right. As an officer of the Crown it is my duty to protest--to protest with all the vehemence at my command--against a proposal which is nothing short of dishonouring to the King's Majesty.'
Sir Henry, glooming up at him, with a heavy sneer that not even his heavy moustaches could conceal, spoke with ominous quiet in the pause the Major made. 'Have ye done, sir?'
'I have not yet begun,' he was answered.
'That was but the exordium,' said de Bernis.
But Morgan crashed his fist down on the table. 'Must I remind you, Major, that by the rank ye're flaunting you owe me obedience? You'll speak when you're bidden.'
'You forget, sir...'
'I forget nothing,' Sir Henry bawled. 'Sit down, sir, as I bid you. Show me defiance and--Od's my life!--I'll have you in irons. Sit down!'
The Major's prominent eyes still looked defiance for a second. Then they faltered under the overbearing gaze of Sir Henry. With a contemptuous shrug he flung himself into his chair again, at some little distance from the table and crossed his legs.
Sir Henry turned to de Bernis.
'Now, Charles?'
'Captain Aldridge thinks we should not leave the crew of the Black Swan at liberty. But I perceive no danger or inconvenience in that. Marooned here, without ship or guns, their leader dead, they are rendered harmless enough. If eventually they get away, they are hardly likely to recommence. The lesson will have been too severe.'
'Faith, I am disposed to agree with you,' said Morgan, and as he spoke he cast a malevolent glance at the Major. What next he added leads us to suspect that the Major's presumptuous opposition may have helped to dispose Sir Henry to agree. 'And that in spite of the opinions of Major Beach.'
The Major irritably uncrossed his legs, and sat forward. 'I have told you, sir, that my name is Sands.'
'Well?' Morgan leered at him. 'Beach is Sands, isn't it?' He got up. 'Come on, Aldridge. Let's to work. We'll take Charles' advice. It's the easiest way to end the matter.'
Aldridge rose to accompany him. As he was turning to go, the Admiral paused to speak to Miss Priscilla. 'I'll send my steward to prepare quarters for you, and for you, Charles, and you, Major.'
The Major and de Bernis had both risen. The Major bowed with cold and distant formality. But Monsieur de Bernis had a word to say.
'If you will give me leave, Morgan, I will travel back to Jamaica on one of the other ships. Perhaps I might take charge of the Centaur for you.'
Morgan stared at him, and then from him to the others. Almost despite himself, a little gasp of relief had escaped the Major, whilst Miss Priscilla had suddenly looked up and on her countenance there had been a momentary expression of bewildered dismay. Sir Henry thrust out a heavy lip, stroked his long moustache reflectively for an instant. 'What the devil...' he was beginning. Then he shrugged.
'Oh, but just as you please, Charles. Just as you please. Come, Aldridge.'
He rolled out of the cabin with the lean Captain following at his heels, leaving Monsieur de Bernis alone with his two fellow adventurers. Before he could utter the expressions for which he was seeking words, Miss Priscilla had risen. She was very quiet, very pale.
'Bart,' she said, 'would you oblige me by going on deck for a while?'
The Major started forward briskly, proffering his arm. 'My dear!' he exclaimed.
She shook her head. 'No, no. I mean you to go alone. I have a word to say to Monsieur de Bernis.'
His jaw fell. 'You have a word to say to him? What word? To what purpose?'
'To my purposes, Bart. Does it not seem to you that there is something to be said between us after all that has happened? I think you, yourself, might find something to say to him. We are a little in his debt, I think. Don't you?'
The Major was in confusion. Emotions conflicted in him.
'To be sure, my obligation to Monsieur de Bernis is...very real. Stab me, very real! I confess that I have been mistook in him. At least to some extent. And...'
'Please say no more,' Monsieur de Bernis checked him. 'You will only make matters worse.'
'You may say it afterwards,' Miss Priscilla added. 'Pray leave us now.'
'But...' Major Sands hung there, racked by misgivings. 'But do you think...Surely you can have nothing to say to Monsieur de Bernis to which I cannot be a witness, in which I cannot join. It is no more than natural, my dear Priscilla, that I should wish to unite with you in expressing...'
'I have something to say in which you cannot join me, Bart. In which you are not concerned at all.'
Alarm painted a foolish look upon his face. 'But surely, Priscilla...'
'Oh, please go! Please go!' Her tone grew impatient.
He spread his hands. 'Very well. If it is your wish. Monsieur de Bernis, I am sure, will not abuse the situation. He will remember...'
And now it was Monsieur de Bernis who interrupted him.
'The only abuse that is threatened, sir, is your own abuse of the lady's patience.'
Reassured a little by this, but still extremely disgruntled and uneasy, the Major moved to the door of the cabin. 'I shall be within call, if you want me, Priscilla.'
'I do not think that I shall want you,' he was answered.
When at last Major Sands had gone, she moved from the table to the long carved locker under the stern-ports. She was pale, and perceptibly troubled. She did not look at Monsieur de Bernis, who pivoted where he stood so that he might continue to face her, and waited for her to speak.
She sat down before doing so, her back to the light and the sunlit waters of the lagoon. Calmly then she looked up at him, at last.
'Charles,' she said quietly, 'will you tell me frankly why you desire to travel back to Jamaica on one of the other ships?'
'Frankly,' he said, 'so that you may be relieved at last of a presence of which in the past month you may have had a surfeit.'
'Is this your frankness? Will you still play comedy with me, or is it that you are not at all concerned with my own wishes in the matter?'
The question disturbed him. He sank his chin to his ruffles, and paced across the cabin and back.
'Major Sands has sufficiently indicated what your wishes should be where I am concerned.'
'Major Sands?' There was a faint warmth of indignation in her tone. 'What have I to do with Major Sands?'
'He is your only mirror of the world to which you belong.'
'I see,' she said. A silence followed, which he made no attempt to break. At last, 'Needs that weigh with you?' she asked him.
'It must, since it should weigh with you.'
'It does not weigh with me.'
'I said it should.' He smiled upon her a little wistfully. 'You are to remember, Priscilla, that Major Sands is right when he calls me a pirate.'
'A pirate? You?'
'It is what I have been. The brand of it remains upon me.'
'I do not perceive it. And if I did, I should not care. You are the bravest, noblest man I have ever known.'
'You will not have known many,' said Monsieur de Bernis.
She looked straight into his countenance, and again there was a long pause. At last she slewed round on the locker, turning her shoulder to him and her face seawards, so that he might not see the tears that were gathering in her eyes. Still she was silent a little while, so as to regain control of her voice.
'Perhaps...perhaps, after all, I was mistook as to your motives for going on one of the other ships. Perhaps I was wrong to wish to ask you to remain.'
But the break in her voice, faint though it was, reached his ears and cut him like a sword, betrayed him into saying what he had vowed to himself that he would never say.
'Ah, mon Dieu! You were not mistook.' He crossed to her, and set a knee upon the locker on which she sat. 'Attend to me, Priscilla,' he said gravely, 'I go because, as I told you that night when we talked ashore there, under the stars, I am what I am and you are what you are. I run away from you, which is what you supposed. I run away from you for your own sake. I would not have you betrayed into a weakness because you may perceive that I have the presumption to love you. I tell you this, just as I might place a wreath upon a grave. Do you understand?'
'I am not dead yet, Monsieur de Bernis. And whilst I live you have a certain claim to me. Only today you risked your life for me. I understood. Don't suppose that I did not. What that odious Sir Henry said was true. You killed Leach, you faced death from him, so as to make sure of delivering me whatever happened.'
'That was a duty.'
'To me?' She swung to face him fully, looking up at him.
'To myself. To honour. To chivalry.'
'Honour? Chivalry? Ha! And you a pirate!' She laughed from moist eyes. 'You speak of your love as a presumption. But if I account it no presumption? What then?'
'Then? Why, then--mon Dieu!--you are mad.'
'And if I am content to be mad? Consciously wilfully mad? Shall you gainsay me?'
His dark face was grave to the point of sadness. He shook his head solemnly. 'You torture me with temptation,' he complained.
She rose and stood against him, her breast touching his.
'You may end the torture by yielding to the temptation.'
'And afterwards?' he asked her. 'If you and I should marry, your world...'
She stopped his mouth with her hand. 'If you and I should marry, my world will be your world, and there we may both find happiness.'
'I do a dreadful, lovely thing,' he said, and took her in his arms.
THE END