Martin Conisby's Vengeance Part 13

"Safe, friend, and secure. You may lay to that, brother!"

"Could you but get me speech with him--"

"Not by no manner o' means whatsoever, _amigo_! And the reason why? It being agin her orders."

"Is he well?"

"Well-ish, brother--fairly bobbish, all things considered, mate--though not such a h.e.l.l-fire, roaring lad o' mettle as yourself, comrade. David slew Goliath o' Gath wi' a pebble and you broke Black Pompey's back wi' your naked hands! Here's a thing as liketh me mighty well! Wherefore I grieve to find ye such an everlasting fool, brother."

"How so, Resolution?"

"When eyes look sweetness--why scowl? When lips woo kisses--wherefore take a blow instead? When comfort and all manner o' delights be offered--why choose misery forrard and the b.l.o.o.d.y rogues o' her fo'castle? For 'tis there as you be going, mate--aye, verily!" Here he set a silver whistle to his mouth and blew a shrill blast at which signal came two fellows who, at his command, dragged me to my feet and so away forward.

Thus true to her word, Joanna banished me from the gilded luxury of cabin and roundhouse and gave me up to the rogues forward, a wild and lawless company of divers races and conditions so that they seemed the very sc.u.m of the world, and yet here, in this reeking forecastle, each and every of them my master.

Nor can any words of mine justly paint the wild riot and brutal licence of this crowded 'tween-deck, foul with the reek of tobacco and a thousand worse savours, its tiers on tiers of dark and noisome berths where men snored or thrust forth s.h.a.ggy heads to rave at and curse each other; its blotched and narrow table amids.h.i.+ps, its rows of battered sea chests, its loathsome floor; a place of never-ceasing stir and tumult, dim-lighted by sputtering lamps.

My advent was hailed by an exultant roar and they were all about me, an evil company in their rage and draggled finery; here were faces scarred by battles and brutalised by their own misdeeds, this unlovely company now thrust upon me with pointing fingers, nudging elbows, scowls and mocking laughter.

"What now--is he to us, then?" cried one. "Hath Jo sent us her plaything?"

"Aye, lads, and verily!" answered Resolution. "Here's him as she calleth Martin O; here's him as out-fought Pompey--"

"Aye, aye--remember Pompey!" cried a bedizened rogue pus.h.i.+ng towards me, hand on knife.

"Why, truly, Thomas Ford, remember Pompey, but forget not Job as died so sudden--in the midst o' life he were in death, were Job! So hands off your knife, Thomas Ford; Captain Jo sendeth Martin for your sport and what not, d'ye see, but when he dieth 'tis herself will do the killing!"

Left alone and helpless in my fetters, I stood with bowed head, nothing heeding them for all their baiting of me, whereupon the man Ford, catching up a pipkin that chanced handy, cast upon me some vileness or other the which was the signal for others to do likewise so that I was soon miserably wet from head to foot and this I endured without complaint. But now they betook them to tormenting me with all manner of missiles, joying to see me blench and stagger until, stung to a frenzy of rage and being within reach of the man Ford (my chiefest tormentor) I sprang upon him and fell to belabouring him heartily with the chain that swung betwixt my wrists, but an unseen foot tripped me heavily and ere I could struggle free they were upon me. But now as they kicked and trampled and buffeted me, I once again called upon G.o.d with a loud voice, and this was the manner of my supplication:

"Oh, G.o.d of Justice, for the pains I now endure, give to me vengeance--vengeance, Oh, G.o.d, upon mine enemy!"

And hearing this pa.s.sionate outcry, my tormentors presently drew away from me, staring on me where I lay and muttering together like men greatly amazed, and left me in peace awhile.

Very much might I tell of all I underwent at this time, of the shameful indignities, tricks and deviltries of which I was victim, so that there were times when I cursed my Maker and all in this world save only my miserable self--I, that by reason of my hate and vengeful pursuit of my enemy, had surely brought all these evils on my own head. Yet every shame I endured, every pain I suffered did but nerve me anew to this long-sought vengeance on him that (in my blind folly) I cursed as the author of these my sufferings.

But indeed little gust have I to write of these things; moreover I began to fear that my narrative grow to inordinate length, so will I incontinent pa.s.s on to that time when came the quartermaster Diccon with Resolution Day to deliver me from my hateful prison.

And joy unspeakable was it to breathe the sweet, clean air, to hear the piping song of the wind and the hiss of the tumbling billows, to feel the lift and roll of the great s.h.i.+p as she ploughed her course through seas blue as any sapphire; though indeed small leisure had I for the glory of it all, as they hurried me aft.

"What now?" I enquired hopelessly. "What new deviltries have ye in store?"

"'Tis Jo!" answered Diccon. "'Tis Joanna, my bully!" and here he leered and nodded; "Joanna is sick and groweth womanish--"

"And look'ee now, friend," quoth Resolution, clapping me on the back, "you'll mind 'twas old Resolution as was your stay and comfort by means of a knife i' the matter o' the heathen Pompey, comrade? You'll not forget old Resolution, s.h.i.+pmate?"

"And me," quoth Diccon, patting my other shoulder. "I stood your friend so much as I might--aye, did I!"

Thus talked they, first in one ear then in the other, picturing to my imagination favours done me, real or imagined, until, to hear them, they might have been my guardian angels; while I went between them silent and mighty sullen, casting about in my mind as to what all this should portend.

So they brought me aft to that gilded cabin the which gave upon the stern-gallery; and here, outstretched on downy cus.h.i.+ons and covered by a rich embroidery, lay Joanna.

Perceiving me, she raised herself languidly and motioned the others to be gone, whereupon they went out, closing the door; whereupon she spake, quick and pa.s.sionate:

"I have sent for you because I am weak with my sickness, Martino, faint and very solitary!"

"And must I weep therefore?" said I, and glancing from her haggard face I beheld a small, ivory-hilted dagger on the table at her elbow.

"Ah, mercy of G.o.d--how the s.h.i.+p rolls!" she moaned feebly and then burst forth into cursings and pa.s.sionate revilings of s.h.i.+p and wind and sea until these futile ravings were hushed for lack of breath; anon she fell to sighing and with many wistful looks, but finding me all unheeding, fell foul of me therefore:

"Ha, scowl, beast--scowl--this becomes thy surly visage. I shall not know thee else! Didst ever smile in all thy sullen days or speak me gentle word or kindly? Never to me, oh, never to me! Will ye not spare a look? Will ye not speak--have ye no word to my comfort?"

"Why seek such of me?" I demanded bitterly. "I have endured much of shame and evil at your will--"

"Ah, fool," sighed she, "had you but sent to me--one word--and I had freed you ere this! And I have delivered you at last because I am sick and weak--a woman and lonely--"

"Why, there be rogues for you a-plenty hereabouts shall fit ye better than I--"

"Oh, 'tis a foul tongue yours, Martino!"

"Why, then, give me a boat, cast me adrift and be done with me."

"Ah, no, I would not you should die yet--"

"Mayhap you will torture me a little more first."

"'Tis for you to choose! Oh, Martino," she cried; "will you not be my friend, rather?"

"Never in this world!"

At this, and all at once, she was weeping.

"Ah, but you are cruel!" she sobbed, looking up at me through her tears. "Have you no pity for one hath never known aught of true love or gentleness? Wilt not forget past scores and strive to love me--some little--Martino?"

Now hearkening to her piteous accents, beholding her thus transfigured, her tear-wet eyes, the pitiful tremor of her vivid lips and all the pleading humility of her, I was beyond all thought amazed.

"Surely," said I, "surely you are the strangest woman G.o.d ever made--"

"Why then," said she, smiling through her tears, "since G.o.d made me, then surely--ah, surely is there something in me worthy your love?"

"Love?" quoth I, frowning and clenching my shackled hands. "'Tis an emptiness--I am done with the folly henceforth--"

"Ah--ah ... and what of your Joan--your Damaris?" she questioned eagerly.

"Do you not love her--no?"

"No!" said I fiercely. "My life holdeth but one purpose--"

"What purpose, Martino, what?"

"Vengeance!"