Philip Van Doren Stern (ed) (233 page)

And
Doña
Inés,
creeping
up
softly
behind
him,
seemed
brighter, gayer,
than
a
humming-bird,
in
contrast
to
her
pale
pirate.
Receiving a
signal
from
her
eye,
he
knew
that
he
must
make
no
mention
of
an earlier
meeting.

"My
mistress,
Doña
Inés
Samaniégos,
of
Santa
Ana,"
announced the
Captain,
with
a
flourish.

"Your
servant,
madam,"
said
Patterson
formally.

And
the
lady,
very
grave
and
beautiful,
ran
her
hand
lightly
over the
Captain's
sleeve
and
swept
a
curtsy,
deep
and
billowing.
She
was not
merry
now,
neither
was
she
barefoot;
she
seemed
haughty,
and had
shod
herself
in
high-heeled,
red
shoes.

"This
flower,"
said
Captain
Thunder
casually,
indicating
his
paramour
with
a
flick
of
white
finger,
"springs
from
a
proud
and
splendid Castilian
family.
Is
it
not
so,
my
heart?
I
took
her
when
my
fleet sacked
Santa
Ana,
finding
her
myself,
when
my
hands
were
steeped in
blood
above
the
wrists,
praying
in
tenor
before
a
waxen,
tinseled image
of
the
Virgin.
She
was
sixteen,
and
very
timid,
being
fresh
from convent.
Before
I
wooed
I
was
forced
to
tame
her.
When
I
had
tamed her,
I
was
still
enamored,
and
for
four
years
she
sailed
the
Main
as queen
of
my
fleet.
The
Black
Joke,
my
ship,
and
the
Black
Lady,
as they
called
my
woman
(being
accustomed
to
flaxen
peasant
maids from
Devon),
those
were
all
I
prized
in
life.
My
ship
they
took,
my woman
I
have
kept,
and
will
continue
to
keep
whilst
we
remain
here."

The
drawling
voice
was
icy
now,
and
the
light
eyes
had
become green
stones.
Patterson
realized
that
he
was
being
warned.
He
answered
lightly:

"And
may
I
congratulate
you,
Captain,
upon
a
lovely
and
most glorious
prize?"

"Do
you
mind,"
said
the
Captain
to
Doña
Inés,
"when
that
little ape,
Heywood,
tried
to
take
you,
and
I
slit
his
throat?"

She
nodded,
her
eyes
very
dark
and
lustrous. The
Captain
turned
to
Patterson.

"There
is
no
death
on
this
island,
sir,
as
you
will
discover
for
yourself,
but
it
is
possible
to
fight,
and,
fighting,
to
inflict
wounds.
A
sorry business,
very.
I
declare
I
regretted
it,
when
I
saw
tire
poor
creature gurgling
in
mortal
agony.
He
was
sick
for
many
days.
But,
sooner
or later,
we
all
heal.
However,
I'm
soft-hearted,
once
my
rage
is
appeased.
And
now
you
will
pray
excuse
me,
while
I
seek
the
shade. I'll
leave
madam
here
to
entertain
you
for
ten
minutes.
A
change
for her,
a
pleasant
interlude
for
yourself.
In
ten
minutes,
then,
my
dove?"

Bowing,
he
retreated,
walking
away
with
pointed
toes,
more
like a
dancing-master
than
ever.

When
he
was
out
of
earshot
Patterson
said
impulsively: