Black as thunder grew the brow of Levasseur.
“However,” added Captain Blood, “I’ll not dispute her to you if you are prepared to buy her.”
“Buy her?”
“At the price you have set upon her.”
Levasseur contained his rage, that he might reason with the Irishman. “That is the ransom of the man. It is to be paid for him by the Governor of Tortuga.”
“No, no. Ye’ve parcelled the twain together—very oddly, I confess. Ye’ve set their value at twenty thousand pieces, and for that sum you may have them, since you desire it; but you’ll pay for them the twenty thousand pieces that are ultimately to come to you as the ransom of one and the dowry of the other; and that sum shall be divided among our crews. So that you do that, it is conceivable that our followers may take a lenient view of your breach of the articles we jointly signed.”
Levasseur laughed savagely. “Ah ca! Credieu! The good jest!”
“I quite agree with you,” said Captain Blood.
To Levasseur the jest lay in that Captain Blood, with no more than a dozen followers, should come there attempting to hector him who had a hundred men within easy call. But it seemed that he had left out of his reckoning something which his opponent had counted in. For as, laughing still, Levasseur swung to his officers, he saw that which choked the laughter in his throat. Captain Blood had shrewdly played upon the cupidity that was the paramount inspiration of those adventurers. And Levasseur now read clearly on their faces how completely they adopted Captain Blood’s suggestion that all must participate in the ransom which their leader had thought to appropriate to himself.
It gave the gaudy ruffian pause, and whilst in his heart he cursed those followers of his, who could be faithful only to their greed, he perceived—and only just in time—that he had best tread warily.
“You misunderstand,” he said, swallowing his rage. “The ransom is for division, when it comes. The girl, meanwhile, is mine on that understanding.”
“Good!” grunted Cahusac. “On that understanding all arranges itself.”
“You think so?” said Captain Blood. “But if M. d’Ogeron should refuse to pay the ransom? What then?” He laughed, and got lazily to his feet. “No, no. If Captain Levasseur is meanwhile to keep the girl, as he proposes, then let him pay this ransom, and be his the risk if it should afterwards not be forthcoming.”
“That’s it!” cried one of Levasseur’s officers. And Cahusac added: “It’s reasonable, that! Captain Blood is right. It is in the articles.”
“What is in the articles, you fools?” Levasseur was in danger of losing his head. “Sacre Dieu! Where do you suppose that I have twenty thousand pieces? My whole share of the prizes of this cruise does not come to half that sum. I’ll be your debtor until I’ve earned it. Will that content you?”
All things considered, there is not a doubt that it would have done so had not Captain Blood intended otherwise.
“And if you should die before you have earned it? Ours is a calling fraught with risks, my Captain.”
“Damn you!” Levasseur flung upon him livid with fury. “Will nothing satisfy you?”
“Oh, but yes. Twenty thousand pieces of eight for immediate division.”
“I haven’t got it.”
“Then let some one buy the prisoners who has.”
“And who do you suppose has it if I have not?”
“I have,” said Captain Blood.
“You have!” Levasseur’s mouth fell open. “You... you want the girl?”
“Why not? And I exceed you in gallantry in that I will make sacrifices to obtain her, and in honesty in that I am ready to pay for what I want.”
Levasseur stared at him foolishly agape. Behind him pressed his officers, gaping also.
Captain Blood sat down again on the cask, and drew from an inner pocket of his doublet a little leather bag. “I am glad to be able to resolve a difficulty that at one moment seemed insoluble.” And under the bulging eyes of Levasseur and his officers, he untied the mouth of the bag and rolled into his left palm four or five pearls each of the size of a sparrow’s egg. There were twenty such in the bag, the very pick of those taken in that raid upon the pearl fleet. “You boast a knowledge of pearls, Cahusac. At what do you value this?”
The Breton took between coarse finger and thumb the proffered lustrous, delicately iridescent sphere, his shrewd eyes appraising it.
“A thousand pieces,” he answered shortly.
“It will fetch rather more in Tortuga or Jamaica,” said Captain Blood, “and twice as much in Europe. But I’ll accept your valuation. They are almost of a size, as you can see. Here are twelve, representing twelve thousand pieces of eight, which is La Foudre’s share of three fifths of the prize, as provided by the articles. For the eight thousand pieces that go to the Arabella, I make myself responsible to my own men. And now, Wolverstone, if you please, will you take my property aboard the Arabella?” He stood up again, indicating the prisoners.
“Ah, no!” Levasseur threw wide the floodgates of his fury. “Ah, that, no, by example! You shall not take her....” He would have sprung upon Captain Blood, who stood aloof, alert, tight-lipped, and watchful.
But it was one of Levasseur’s own officers who hindered him.
“Nom de Dieu, my Captain! What will you do? It is settled; honourably settled with satisfaction to all.”
“To all?” blazed Levasseur. “Ah ca! To all of you, you animals! But what of me?”
Cahusac, with the pearls clutched in his capacious hand, stepped up to him on the other side. “Don’t be a fool, Captain. Do you want to provoke trouble between the crews? His men outnumber us by nearly two to one. What’s a girl more or less? In Heaven’s name, let her go. He’s paid handsomely for her, and dealt fairly with us.”
“Dealt fairly?” roared the infuriated Captain. “You....” In all his foul vocabulary he could find no epithet to describe his lieutenant. He caught him a blow that almost sent him sprawling. The pearls were scattered in the sand.
Cahusac dived after them, his fellows with him. Vengeance must wait. For some moments they groped there on hands and knees, oblivious of all else. And yet in those moments vital things were happening.
Levasseur, his hand on his sword, his face a white mask of rage, was confronting Captain Blood to hinder his departure.
“You do not take her while I live!” he cried.
“Then I’ll take her when you’re dead,” said Captain Blood, and his own blade flashed in the sunlight. “The articles provide that any man of whatever rank concealing any part of a prize, be it of the value of no more than a peso, shall be hanged at the yardarm. It’s what I intended for you in the end. But since ye prefer it this way, ye muckrake, faith, I’ll be humouring you.”
He waved away the men who would have interfered, and the blades rang together.
M. d’Ogeron looked on, a man bemused, unable to surmise what the issue either way could mean for him. Meanwhile, two of Blood’s men who had taken the place of the Frenchman’s negro guards, had removed the crown of whipcord from his brow. As for mademoiselle, she had risen, and was leaning forward, a hand pressed tightly to her heaving breast, her face deathly pale, a wild terror in her eyes.
It was soon over. The brute strength, upon which Levasseur so confidently counted, could avail nothing against the Irishman’s practised skill. When, with both lungs transfixed, he lay prone on the white sand, coughing out his rascally life, Captain Blood