The Corsair King Part 5

The two sisters, with many kisses, embraces, and tears, turned back, but Julietta still clung to her departing lover, whispering in stifled tones.

"Take me with you."

The youth trembled from head to foot and gazed with a blanched face at the young girl, who still clasped him in a convulsive embrace.

"What are you thinking of? You would come with me--to sea?"

"I should be happy anywhere with you. I should not fear the storms, the sight of your face would give me courage. I should be happy if I might share with you every peril, every privation, which you must now encounter alone; and if it were not G.o.d's will that we should ever attain our goal, I could at least die with you."

William's face clouded still more. What love! What self-sacrifice! A Paradise opened before him. But at the portal of that Paradise stood an angel with a flaming sword, saying: "Back, your name is Robert Barthelemy."

"I have often thought," said the girl trembling, "that some day when you return and ask, 'Where is Julietta? Why doesn't she come to meet me?'

they will lead you to a flowery mound and say: 'She waited long, waited until her heart broke, she faded away and now rests here'--will you not then say to yourself: 'Why did I not take her with me?'"

"Do not talk so! Do not talk so!" exclaimed the lover, in a voice choked with anguish. "What you ask is impossible. Go back."

The girl grew as white as a lily, her arms fell from her lover's neck, her beautiful head drooped upon her breast.

He caught the fainting figure in his arms and laid it gently on the gra.s.s, pressed a kiss on the colorless face, and then rushed through the copse like a madman.

Barthelemy thrust the scarlet plume in his hat and joined his men; no tears glittered in his eyes, which now flashed fire; he was once more the proud, bold, reckless corsair chief.

The haughty carriage of his head, his steady glance and resolute movements all belied the gentle, dreamy lover of an hour before.

The first look from his keen eyes noticed the dissatisfaction on the faces of the band. During his absence, their mood toward their leader had changed. Some one had guessed its motive, and the rumor ran that their captain was entangled by a love affair.

"What is the matter?" cried Barthelemy, his eyes wandering from face to face. "Why do you look so sullen? Speak."

The pirates drew back defiantly. Moody thrust his hands into his pockets, puffed violently at his short pipe, and gazed at the clouds.

"Speak, old Lucifer, what has happened to these fellows?"

"H'm, captain," replied the pirate, folding his arms and leaning with his back against a beam, "don't you know the pirates' creed? The creed of loving no one and fearing no one."

"I know it very well. Do _I_ fear any one?"

"But you love; and whoever loves, sighs, whoever loves, feels, and whoever feels is not fit for a pirate."

"So you think that if I hold a woman dear, I may not be the equal of any among you?"

"You could not, captain! Whoever is in love, is always thinking of the future, and longing, sooner or later, to retire to some quiet nook where he can be happy, grow old, and die; he is always gaping at the moon, he scorns his comrades and wants to be better than they. Such a man is not fit for us. Captain, I never loved any one in my life, never, and these stout fellows around you have neither father, mother, wife, nor sweetheart. Such men belong to the sea, men who, when tempests howl and bullets hiss, do not think of quiet homes and loving maidens. These flowers do not bloom for us. If a girl embraces and kisses you to-day, she will deceive and betray you to-morrow. Once we thought of bringing a cargo of wives from Paris. We chose them from the Salpetriere; at least we had no cause to fear that we should fall in love with them. Huh! Even that didn't last long; pirate folk are not used to joking; when they are angered, instead of beating, they kill. At the end of a month, not more than two of the women were alive. Such feelings demoralize pirates."

"So you believe," replied Barthelemy, looking him full in the face, "that your hearts are stouter than mine, because they expect nothing.

You will have an opportunity to prove it at once. Take heed. We shall meet to-night on the high seas a fleet of Portuguese merchant vessels--forty-two s.h.i.+ps under the convoy of two well-equipped men of war--from the islands of Todos los Santos, laden with gold and goods. If you want to see a venture that will fill half the world with admiration, come with me."

"Surely you won't a.s.sert that you'll conquer these forty-two s.h.i.+ps?"

asked Skyrme.

"No, but I will seize the one which has the richest cargo and, in full view of the whole fleet and the men of war, take her away with us from amid the forty-one other vessels."

The pirates gazed doubtfully into Barthelemy's face, uncertain whether he was jesting or in earnest.

"This will afford an opportunity to show whose heart is boldest!" said Barthelemy, "each one of us must cope with a hundred men, and each individual must perform every minute a miracle at which he himself will afterwards wonder."

"Captain," said Asphlant, after a long pause, "that borders on the impossible."

"A minute ago you were all boasting of your hard hearts; Moody doesn't seem to have interpreted your feelings correctly when he said that the pirate should fear nothing. And _you_ want to teach _me_ courage. Go!

Let whoever fears to accompany me, quit the s.h.i.+p--we are near land--and return to his mother! If I am left with but three men, I will still do what I have said, for I am brave, not only while drunk with rum, like you, but while my face is still wet with the tears of the woman I love."

The pirates shrank back, shamed, yet perplexed, by the boundless audacity of their leader. Barthelemy noted the effect of his speech and turned again to them with words of stirring encouragement.

"Are you afraid when I lead the way? If I should say: 'Come with me to the bottom of the sea, we'll attack Neptune and drag him by the beard to the sunlight, I will lead you!' Would not you follow? If I should say: 'Let us declare war against half the world, sail up the Thames, and set fire to the Tower, I will lead!' Would you remain behind? If I should say: 'Earthly strife is pitiful, come with me to Heaven, come with me to h.e.l.l!' Would you not follow even there?"

The pirates, in a frenzy of enthusiasm, roared: "We'll go with you!" and stretched their hands to Barthelemy, who clasped them one by one.

"There, my men, there! We are sons of Fortune, and Fortune favors the bold. The sea is our slave, the storm our playfellow, death our delight!

What others dare not think, we do."

"Hurrah! Long live Robert Barthelemy!" roared the whole band, tossing their caps into the air.

Twilight was gathering. In the cottage three angels, with clasped hands, were praying that G.o.d would bury in the depths of the ocean that evil monster, Robert Barthelemy, the terror of all travelers.

Darkness had closed in, the myriad stars of night were reflected from the surface of the sea. Forty-two s.h.i.+ps, sailing at nearly equal distances from one another, appeared on the horizon. The wind was fair, the crews were sleeping quietly, the men watching from the mast-heads drowsily announced that a sail was in sight, the captains heard the words and turning over, fell asleep again.

The approaching vessel tacked for some time, then steered straight toward one of the s.h.i.+ps in the middle of the fleet, the Triton.

Her captain was slumbering soundly in his hammock, when the mate entered and reported the approach of the craft.

"Salute him," said the commander, peevishly, drawing up the coverlet.

The approaching vessel stopped, and a boat put off in which sat six men, who rowed with vigorous strokes to the Triton. No one seemed disturbed by their approach. On their arrival, three men remained in their seats, while the three others climbed on deck.

One of the party inquired for the captain, with whom he had urgent business. The cabin where he slept was pointed out, and the speaker entered, the other two men remaining at the door.

"What is wanted now?" cried the captain angrily, leaning out of the hammock. To this question the stranger replied quietly:

"Not another word, sir. I am Robert Barthelemy."

The captain was rigid with fright. The pirate placed no pistol at his breast, did not threaten him with death; he merely said: "I am Robert Barthelemy."

"What do you desire?" asked the captain with chattering teeth.

"Nothing at all," answered the pirate, "except an answer to a single question: can you tell me which of these forty-two s.h.i.+ps has the richest cargo?"