James Nelson - The Pirate Round

Three minutes later Nagel knocked on the door, and Yancy, his voice weak, called, “Yes?”

Nagel cracked the door open. “Mr. Dinwiddie here to see you, sir,” he said.

“Yes, pray show him in…”

Nagel opened the door, ushered the confused-looking Peleg Dinwiddie in, pulled up a chair for him. Yancy gestured for him to sit, and Dinwiddie did.

“Please, Henry, leave us…” Yancy said, and Henry nodded and left.

“I come as soon as I got your note. Lord Yancy, are you quite well?” Dinwiddie asked with real concern. Yancy had detected the man’s ingenuous nature right off.

“Oh, I’m… no, my dear Dinwiddie, no, I am not. There is no use in hiding it…” Yancy paused with a hacking cough. “No, dear sir, I have not been well for some time. But now, I fear, it is got much worse.”

“Lord Yancy… I feared this was the case. You didn’t seem strong to me, if you’ll forgive me being so forward…”

“I have tried to hide it. Put on a bold front. But just these past few days it has quite overrun me.”

“I am so sorry. Is there anything I might do? You have shown us every kindness-”

“No, no, there is nothing. Think nothing of what I have done. Such kindness is just my nature, you know.” He coughed again. “It is a cancer, I fear. I feel it eating away at me. There is nothing for it.”

They sat in silence for a moment while Yancy regained his strength. “Peleg, if I may be so bold as to call you such…”

“Please, my lord, ’tis an honor.”

“Peleg, I am not long for this life, and I do not regret it. But this is what I fear most. My kingdom, all I have worked for, it will all be lost, without I leave a solid man to the running of it…” He coughed again, dabbed his mouth with his handkerchief.

“That fellow, Obadiah Spelt, he seems the stuff of leaders.”

“Oh, I had thought so as well. But I find the man is a fool and a drunk. He would never do.”

“Your man Nagel, he seems a decent sort.”

Yancy waved his hand again. “Henry is a good man, a good lieutenant, but he is not a captain, not fit for command. I had despaired of finding such, until your ship sailed in. And behold, you and Captain Marlowe, two men with just the qualities I need.

“But Marlowe, he is devoted to his ship, would not leave her, and I would expect no less. But you, sir… you have the qualities of a captain, a leader, and yet you are only second in command. And aboard one of these Red Sea Rovers, I suspect that even the quartermaster has more real authority than you. Am I right?”

Yancy could see from the look on Dinwiddie’s round face that he was indeed right, that he had hit the right chord with that observation. “I could pass away in peace, Peleg, if I knew a man such as yourself had been named my successor…”

Dinwiddie leaned back, looked away, looked back at Yancy. Shook his head as if that would aid him in comprehension. “Do you ask me, sir… you wish… me to take over for you the running of this kingdom?”

“Yes. That is what I wish. I wish it to be yours.”

“But… my lord… it is such a thing! I am flattered, more than that… but you have known me for just this past week…”

Yancy shook his head weakly. “I have not gained my place by being a fool, sir. I know men. I can take the measure of a man’s character in an hour, much less a week. I can see you are the man I need.”

“I-I do not know what to say…”

“All this island, all its riches will be yours.”

“I am at a loss, sir. The Elizabeth Galley, and Marlowe…”

“They do not appreciate you as I do. But see here, I know it is a great thing to ask, a great responsibility I ask you to shoulder. You must sleep on it.”

Yancy rose awkwardly, and Dinwiddie leaped up to help him. Once standing, Yancy waved him off. “You will spend the night as my guest. Come with me.”

Yancy shuffled off down the hallway, and Dinwiddie followed behind. They came at last to a big door, which Yancy swung open. In the room beyond were a dozen native girls, partially clothed. Some were reclining on the big bed, some brushing their hair, some drawing water for a bath. They all looked up and all smiled with delight at the sight of Yancy and Dinwiddie.

“This is my harem, my lovely girls…” said Yancy. “I shall miss them most of all. But tonight, dear Peleg, they will attend to you. And in the morning you can tell me of your decision.”

He gently shoved the astounded Dinwiddie into the room, then closed the door and walked back down the hall to the privacy of his terrace room. That much was done. There was no real need for him to wait on Dinwiddie’s answer.

MARLOWE COULD feel his control of circumstances slipping away, a little bit at a time, like water leaking from cupped hands.

The Elizabeth Galley was repaired and provisioned, guns swayed aboard and rigged at the gunports. Yancy’s men no longer made their morning appearance. Nagel had come out and insisted they shift their anchorage closer to the harbor entrance. Dinwiddie was gone.

Marlowe’s steward came up to him, stammered, “I looked all over the ship, sir, and right down to the cable tier, and Mr. Dinwiddie, he ain’t aboard.”

“He went ashore yesterday,” Bickerstaff offered. “Early evening, I should think. I have not seen him since.”

“Burgess had the boat. Says he saw one of them natives give him a letter,” Honeyman added.

All of this discussion took place as the three men stood on the quarterdeck and watched the now-familiar form of Henry Nagel as he was pulled in a small boat out to the Elizabeth Galley.

“Well, it is passing strange,” Marlowe said. “Were it any other man, I would assume he was passed out, drunk, in some whorehouse, but that doesn’t seem like Dinwiddie.”

Nagel’s boat came alongside, and Nagel climbed aboard, with never a hail or a request that he might do so. He came back aft, smiling, nodding his greetings. But there was an edge to his manner, something Marlowe had not seen before. He wondered if it was his imagination. He felt the control slipping further from his grasp.

“Good day, Nagel, and what brings you here?” Marlowe asked.

“Lord Yancy sends me. He requests you join him for dinner, one last time, before you sail.”

“Did I say I intended to sail?”

Nagel looked confused. Marlowe detected a spark of irritation. “You’re all fit out and provisioned-”

“But I seem to have lost my first officer.”

Nagel brightened. “Oh, Mr. Dinwiddie is Lord Yancy’s guest, stayed the night in the big house. If you’ll come to dinner, you’ll see him then.”

Marlowe nodded. “I do not care to have my people spirited away like that. You may tell Lord Yancy as much.”

Nagel stiffened, folded his arms. His eyes darted up toward the battery that commanded the entrance to the harbor. Those big guns could easily sink the Elizabeth Galley, firing at point-blank range. They were so close that they would need only indifferent gun layers to do mortal damage.

Marlowe had noticed that there was an ensign flying from the battery’s flagpole, the first time since his arrival. If that meant on St. Mary’s what it did in the rest of the world, then the battery was garrisoned and ready for work.

He did not know if Nagel’s glance was involuntary or an intentional threat, but he took the meaning well enough. He had come of his own accord into the wolf’s lair, had accepted the hospitality of the dangerous and unpredictable beast. Now he could leave only by permission.

“Forgive me, I am not myself today,” Marlowe said. “Of course I should be delighted to attend dinner with Lord Yancy.”

“Good. And your officers, if they wish. And my lord would be most disappointed was he not able to personally say good-bye to your wife.”