Scarface (9 page)

“Tell me,” Justin dared to ask his own question, “was one Nat Creagh taken in the attack on Bridgetown?”

“Creagh—Creagh?” Scarlett repeated the name vaguely, as if his mind was well occupied by a more pressing problem.

“Creagh! Aye, that was the brute Cheap turned his victims over to for questioning,” Cocklyn identified the name. “No, he is not among those in jail. But many were killed and buried the same day—he may lie with them.”

“Listen, boy,” Sir Robert came out of his private maze and leaned forward in his chair, his attention all for Justin. “When you were in Tortuga did you ever hear aught of a ship named the
Maid of Cathay?”

“Brig, sloop, privateer—?”

“Sloop—but a large one.” Sir Robert was eager behind his calm mask, even Justin could see that. “She had a carven Chinese princess for a figurehead, a fanciful thing painted brightly—”

The boy shook his head. “I never heard of such—”

“No man ever spoke of her?”

“None that I heard.”

Sir Robert was back behind his inner gates again, closed off from the room and their world. “It is my will that you remain here, Master Blade, under my own eye. You may now be excused. Report to Master Firken and he will show you your quarters.”

Smarting at such highhanded disposal of his person Justin was forced to leave the room. Little as he knew the governor he could see it would avail him nothing to set his will against Scarlett’s. And he could also understand that a recently pardoned pirate could complain of little should he wish to remain out of jail.

So he obediently reported to Firken and was shown a
small room at the far end of the right wing. It was not bare enough for a servant’s quarters, but neither was it one which might be offered to an important guest. After the secretary left he stood by the window and wondered just what he was going to do with his time since he had not even Sir Francis to plague him.

But Sir Francis Hynde was not done with him, as he speedily discovered. For, seeing no reason why he should sit within doors and stare at the wall, Justin stepped out into the garden of the government house and was pounced upon from behind a bush by the ubiquitous Baronet. Sir Francis was smiling broadly with the air of one who has accomlished some fine and worthy act.

“How do you like Sir Robert?” he demanded. “Is he not a fine gentleman? Even my mother says that he is like one of the Queen’s lords. How do you like living here at the palace? Was it not kind of me to bring you into such favor with Sir Robert?”

Out of that flood of questions Justin seized upon the last and upon Sir Francis’ shoulder at the same time.

“See here”—he held young Hynde with a firm hand— “what do you mean—you brought me to favor with His Excellency?”

“I am friends with Sir Robert,” returned the younger boy proudly. “He speaks to me as if I were a man and not a troublesome child—such as my uncle declares me to be. So do I come here to see him. And I showed him all you did teach me of the sword and answered all his questions about you because he was greatly surprised that my uncle did harbor a pirate off the
Naughty Lass.
Though I told him, truly
I did, at once, that you were no longer a pirate but had taken the Queen’s Pardon. And he said that you must be a young man of parts to have won such champions to your cause and that he must have you up that he could look upon the eighth wonder of the world—Sir Robert often speaks in that way. But he is much interested in you. And he is very kind—”

“Kind?” Justin grinned. He would not have applied that adjective to the waspish gentleman he had left a bare quarter hour before.

“Aye. And he tells good stories—about the spouting whales and queer fish that live in the sea and the little forgotten islands where no men, but only monkeys and birds, live. He knows many stories. Now will you not agree that it was vastly kind in me to introduce you to Sir Robert?”

“It was. Vastly kind. Only have you not done yourself a disservice? We shall no longer have the fencing lessons—”

“Oh, but we shall! He promised me that you would lesson me. And he will speak to my mother so that I can come here with Amos. If my mother is asked by the Governor she will agree. And Sir Robert himself wishes to see you use the sword with either hand—he told me so!”

Justin sighed. Sir Francis was like quicksilver—there seemed to be no way of controlling his bubbling. He could foresee painful hours ahead.

“Master Lewis is ill of the fever and I have no tutor, so my mother will wish me occupied. Luck is with us—you’ll see.”

“I see that luck is with you, Sir Francis.”

“Come on.” The boy tugged at his coat sleeve. “Let me
show you the garden. It has many marvels. Let us visit the birds.”

Hastened along by the impetuous Baronet, Justin came at last to a place where strongly woven netting enclosed trees and bushes for a large space. Francis dragged his passive captive over to a flap in the net and, wriggling through, urged Justin to follow him. Inside were birds—birds which were living jewels of color. Some Justin recognized as from the islands and the Spanish-held mainland, others he had never seen before.

“See,” Francis cried happily, “they know me! Sir Robert allows me to feed them. There—there goes General Churchill—that great red one!”

“Does Sir Robert care so much for birds?” Justin ducked to avoid the swoop of the General coming to investigate the younger boy’s outheld hands.

“His lady did. He had this made for her and then she never saw it. But he keeps it because she would have liked it.”

“Why did she never see it?”

“She died. It was a long time ago, just after Sir Robert became governor. See that strange white one? The slaves say that it is her ghost.”

Justin watched the white bird out of sight while Sir Francis produced a packet of seed and fed the Governor’s exotic poultry.

Chapter Nine

“AN' THAR WOS FLOWERS—”

IF JUSTIN had thought that he was to be under the eye of His Excellency he had flattered himself, for during the rest of the week he saw no one save Master Firken and Francis, both of whom worked him hard enough. Young Hynde appeared each morning for a fencing lesson, always accompanied by a stout, middle-aged man-servant who watched the lessons with wary disapproval
plainly written on his face—as if he expected to see his charge murdered before his gooseberry eyes. In fact Justin suspected that Amos carried concealed about his portly person a pistol with which to finish off the instructor should the pupil be harmed.

But in teaching Francis, Blade was winning back his own supple ease and in addition he came to take pride in his work. For there was no denying that his pupil was determined to excel at this new art. Red-faced and puffing, the younger boy practiced eagerly and would have spent the whole morning at hard labor had his instructor not begged off after a reasonable lesson hour.

“Enough is enough.” Justin leaned upon a table to catch his breath. “It is not wise to wear oneself out in this heat— we who are born to the islands know that. Wipe your face, Francis. No, don't drink all of that—curb your thirst while you are so heated—”

Amos took the glass of lime juice and water out of his small master's hand.

“Ye're a knowable one, master,” he observed to Justin. “No, 'e 'as th' right o' it, Sir Francis. No more o' th' juice while ye be so 'eated-loike. Mind ye be careful now or ye don't go wi' Amos this afternoon—”

Sir Francis stopped whining in mid-breath. “But you promised, Amos, you truly promised I could go—”

“Go where?” asked Justin idly.

“To see Danby Johns sit in the stocks. He needs must sit there for four hours each market day and the town boys pelt him with dead fish and such. It is a great sight— ”

“No doubt,” commented Justin dryly as he sheathed his sword. “And for what great sin must this Johns so suffer?”

Sir Francis snickered. “He is cracked and a lack-wit. He came to Master Shrimpton with a story of buried treasure and he was so good at telling it that Master Shrimpton did fit out a sloop and go a-voyaging after it. But there was no treasure and now Master Shrimpton has had Danby jailed because he cannot give back the money lent him before they sailed. Danby Johns spoke out ill in court so now each market day he sits in the stocks to be a warning against such trifling with the law.”

Justin tied his neckcloth and reached for his coat. “I think I am minded to visit this Danby Johns with you. I take it that Lady Hynde knows nothing of this interesting pursuit?” Across Sir Francis' be-wigged head Blade looked to Amos questioningly.

The man shrugged and turned away indifferently, as if what Justin might think of his master's activities was of little importance. Plainly keeping Sir Francis out of mischief was so formidable a task that Amos long ago had worked out his own methods of handling the boy. Seemingly seeing rogues receiving lawful punishment was considered a respectable sort of entertainment.

“Mother knows that I am safe with Amos; she never asks where we go. Will you truly come with us, Justin? And may we walk by Captain Jephson's house?”

“Why?”

Sir Francis was making a mighty business of pulling on his coat. It was Amos who answered for him.

“That be th' shorter way, Master Blade. Sir Francis, ye 'ave not fed th' birds today an' 'is Excellency depends upon ye t' do that. Off now while Master Blade makes ready t' go—”

When the boy was out of sight Amos spoke to Justin. “Ye're right kind t' th' younglin', master,” he said hesitatingly. “Ye 'ave more patience wi' 'im than some others I can put name t'. 'Course, I know 'e's no proper boy like the' Major would 'ave about 'im—'e's too pert wi' 'is tongue an' too missish in 'is ways. But, look ye, Master Blade, 'e's been always wi' 'is elders an' 'e 'ad no father who was a proper father t' 'im. Cared only for my lady's money, Sir Frederik did, and when that was gone—run through his fingers over th' gamin' table—'e blew 'is brains out. Then my lady took Sir Francis an' sort o' shut 'im off as it were—said 'e must learn to be a great gentleman —told 'im that 'is father was one before 'im. She tried to forget all th' bad that way, ye see. Things was 'ard so she tried to make them better in 'er mind loike—then she sort o' got t' believein' that it was really true.

“But when th' Major 'ad 'er an' Sir Francis out from England 'e was mightily disappointed in th' lad. 'E took th' boy shootin' once an' came 'ome mad as Satan because o' 'ow unhandy Sir Francis was. Though th' Major's a mild man most times 'e 'as a temper right enough. Then Sir Francis would speak up t' 'im in such a way as no man like th' Major will stand an' my lady did not correct 'im for it—because she sees nothin' wrong in aught 'e does.

“Now ye, master, well, ye're like Sir Robert . . . Sir Francis has taken an interest in ye as it were. An' now 'e's been braggin' t' some o' th' town boys as 'ow ye are a pirate an' 'e knows ye. Captain Jephson's son—'e's called names after Sir Francis an' laughed at 'im. But if ye were to walk wi' Sir Francis by th' Captain's 'ouse—well, maybe
tomorrow then young Master Ralph won't be so free wi' 'is tongue—”

“So I'm a great man of sorts?” Justin laughed. “All right, Amos, we shall most assuredly walk by Captain Jephson's house. But do not think that I shall continue to dry nurse Sir Francis. He needs a firm hand; that you know as well as I.”

The serving man nodded. “Aye, master. But there be too much good in 'im not t' wish there was more. 'Ere, master, let me 'old that for ye.”

Almost eagerly he picked up Justin's coat and helped slip it over the boy's still tender shoulders.

After Tortuga the streets of Bridgetown seemed marvels of cleanliness and order, although the closer one came to the sea the more varied and pungent were the odors to be fought. Justin also found himself the focus of no little attention and he was glad that his coat was whole and that he was otherwise clad as became one of modest standing in the community. A man with a decent suit to his back could meet stares coolly and pretend that he did not hear comments. But the ordeal set him to wondering if he would ever be at home in Bridgetown.

They heard the sounds of the raree show by the market place long before they turned into the open square. Catcalls and the thin screeching of small boys made a din to drown out anything the wizened little man in the tight clamp of the stocks might be trying to say in his own defense.

The filthy refuse of the whole market was plastered across the stock boards, the man's narrow shoulders, and
his bruised face, as he sat with hanging head, his bearded lips mumbling words only he could hear.

As soon as they were within range Sir Francis snatched a decayed orange from a fruit stall, but as he drew back his arm to hurl it, Justin's fingers clamped about his wrist and forced him to drop his smelly ammunition. The younger boy struggled furiously to pull free.

“Let me go—let me go, you—you pirate rogue!” his voice was a bat squeak of rage.

“When you act as becomes a gentleman.”

“Let me go!” Sir Francis' lips drew back and for one disgusted moment Justin thought that his captive was going to use his teeth to gain his freedom. He administered a shake which brought young Hynde's wig down over his eyes.

“Would you behave as the scum of the town? What if you sat there so—would you relish rotten fruit in your face?”

Francis' eyes went large with honest surprise. “But I would not be put in the stocks,” he countered. “I am a gentleman—and that is for common rogues.”

“And commoner ones do the pelting. If you are a gentleman—act as one. Do you ever see your uncle or Sir Robert about such business? When you are with me I am answerable for your conduct—and you will not be a street brat! Understand?”

For the first time since he had known Sir Francis the boy was subdued. He straightened his wig, put on the broad-brimmed hat which had fallen off and stayed close to the side of his companion.

“Flowers fer Danby—gi' 'im flowers.” Someone close to the stocks shouted and a mass of wet vegetation was flung into Johns' face, the act being greeted by a joyous roar from the crowd.

“Thar be yer flowers, Danby. See ye th' gold yet?”

Justin, mystified, turned to Amos for enlightenment “What is this about flowers?”

“It be this way, Master Blade. This Johns did tell Shrimpton that th' buried gold 'ad been well marked for those who came after. But when they reached th' cay 'e was confused like. It seems they 'ad planted flowers t' mark th' spot an' those 'ad thrived an' spread until no man could tell where they was first planted. So, though 'e an' Shrimpton stayed some weeks an' dug in likely spots they never found no treasure. An' it turned John's wits so now all 'e talks o' is th' flowers.”

“Poor devil. How much does he owe this Shrimpton?”

“A matter o' five shillin' or so. But 'e 'asn't a copper t' 'is name an' who will put up for 'im—cracked 'ead an' lack-wit that 'e is? 'E'll rot in jail less th' sun lays 'im low some market day.”

“This Shrimpton must be a hard man.”

“Well, 'e be not one t' be known for an open purse. 'E is from th' northern colonies, a trader. An' 'e was made th' butt o' much laughter among th' gentlemen—so does 'e now 'ave a 'ot feelin' over th' matter.”

“Five shillings.” But Justin did not put hand to pocket as he would have liked to do. He had never owned a purse in his life, nor did he have any more now than Danby Johns—except his freedom. Sir Francis tugged at him.

“They come to take Johns back to jail again. Prithee, let us go behind them and look upon the pirates once more.”

But to see his fellows from the
Naughty Lass
was the last thing Justin wished. And he was firm in turning back up the hill, the reluctant Sir Francis still with him. But when the Baronet discovered that a show of black sullens made no impression on the older boy, he set about finding some more subtle kind of devilment.

“Will you be there to testify at the pirates' trial?” he asked innocently. “I heard Uncle Humphrey say that you would—”

However, Justin refused to rise to the bait. “We shall see when the time comes.”

“I would like to testify in court,” continued the irrepressible Francis. “To have everyone listen to me while I told of the many wicked sins of pirates—that would be fine—”

“Aye. But I hardly think you will ever be called upon to do so.”

Sir Francis gave a little skip. “Some day I shall—you will see. I shall stand in court and testify and then shall my uncle be greatly surprised and all these stupid islanders shall say that I
am
of some account after all. You shall see, you and Amos, when you stand and listen to me!”

“Mayhap,” returned Justin absently. “Stranger things than that have happened in this world. Look you now, Francis— surely it is time for you to be returning home. Lady Hynde will be thinking you lost.”

“She will believe me at the palace and she likes to have
me go there. Other town boys are not invited. But Sir Robert knows that a Hynde is not like these colonials—”

“Now you are being tiresome again.” Justin was fast reaching the end of all patience. “Run along with you. Amos, see that he goes straight home.”

Justin thought that he would have to face some teasing and whining which was the usual result of dismissing his charge, but Francis went off with Amos without further complaint and Blade walked more briskly on alone. Perversely, now that Hynde was gone, he missed his chatter and the garden of the palace, when he gained it, seemed rather empty. He dawdled on his way to the house, having little desire for the rest of the day's program—a cheerless afternoon to be spent squirming under the probing of Master Firken who had been instructed by the Governor to discover the full extent of Justin's lack of education. This project delighted the secretary who entered into it with a good will which Justin found smacked of the zeal of the Inquisition and which he at no time enjoyed.

But Master Blade was not to spend the afternoon so tamely. Instead, just within the door, he was pounced upon by a worried Firken and hurried to Sir Robert's own study. He gathered from the secretary's reproaches that he had been guilty of the awful sin of keeping His Excellency waiting.

“So here you are at last,” was his greeting. “And a long time about it you were. May I inquire as to where you managed to conceal yourself so well that half my staff could not find you until now?”

“I was in the town with Sir Francis, Your Excellency.”