Rafael Sabatini - The Chronicles of Captain Blood

Macartney flushed. «What the devil do you mean?»

«Now don't be getting hot, Major. Think it over until this evening. A thousand pounds is a deal of money. You don't earn it every day, or every year, in the service of King James; and you perceive quite clearly by now that you won't earn it by arresting me.»

Macartney bit his lip, looking searchingly meanwhile at the Colonel. «It…it's unthinkable!» he exploded. «I am not to be bribed. Unthinkable! If it were known…»

Captain Blood chuckled. «Is that what's troubling you? But who's to tell? Colonel de Coulevain owes me silence at least.»

The brooding Colonel roused himself. «Oh, at least, at least. Have no doubt of that, sir.»

Macartney looked from one to the other of them, a man plainly in the grip of temptation. He swore in his throat. «I'll return at six,» he announced shortly.

«With an escort, Major, or alone?» was Blood's sly question.

«That's…that's as may be.»

He strode out, and they heard his angrily–planted feet go clattering across the hall. Captain Blood winked at the Colonel, and rose. «I'll wager you a thousand pounds that there will be no escort.»

«I cannot take the wager since I am of the same opinion.»

«Now that's a pity, for I shall require the money, and I don't know how else to obtain it. It is possible he may consent to accept my note of hand.»

«No need to distress yourself on that score.»

Captain Blood searched the Colonel's heavy, blood–hound countenance. It wore a smile, a smile intended to be friendly. But somehow Captain Blood did not like the face any better on that account.

The smile broadened to an increasing friendliness. «You may break your fast and take your rest with an easy mind, sir. I will deal with Maj or Macartney when he returns.»

«You will deal with him? Do you mean that you will advance the money?»

«I owe you no less, my dear Captain.»

Again Captain Blood gave him a long searching stare before he bowed and spoke his eloquent thanks. The proposal was amazing. So amazing coming from a broken gamester harassed by creditors, that it was not to be believed — at least not by a man of Captain Blood's experience.

When, having broken his fast, he repaired to the curtained bed which Abraham had prepared for him in a fair room above stairs, he lay despite his weariness for some time considering it all. He recalled the subtle sudden betraying change in Coulevain's manner when it was disclosed that the reward would go to him; he saw again the oily smile on the Colonel's face when he had announced that he would deal with Major Macartney. If he knew men at all, Coulevain was the last whom he would trust. Of himself he was aware that he was an extremely negotiable security. The British Government had set a definite price upon his head. But it was widely known that the Spaniards whom he had harassed and pillaged without mercy would pay three or four times that price for him alive, so that they might have the pleasure of roasting him in the fires of the Faith. Had this scoundrel Coulevain suddenly perceived that the advent in Mariegalante of this saviour of his wife's honour was something in the nature of a windfall with which to repair his battered fortunes? If the half of what Madame de Coulevain had said of her husband in the course of that night's sailing was true there was no reason to suppose that any nice scruples would restrain him.

The more he considered, the more the Captain's uneasiness increased. He began to perceive that he was in an extremely tight corner. He even' went so far as to ask himself if the most prudent course might not be to rise, weary as he was, slip down to the mole, get aboard the pinnace which already had served him so well, and trust himself in her to the mercies of the ocean. But whither steer a course in that frail cockleshell? Only the neighbouring islands were possible, and they were all either French or British. On British soil he was certain of arrest with the gallows to follow, whilst on French soil he could hardly expect to fare better, considering his experience here where the commander was so deeply in his debt. If only he had money with which to purchase a passage on some ship that might pick him up at sea, money enough to induce a shipmaster to ask no questions whilst landing him off Tortuga. But he had none. The only thing of value in his possession was the great pearl in his left ear, worth perhaps five hundred pieces.

He was disposed to curse that raid in canoes upon the pearl fisheries of Cariaco which had resulted in disaster, had separated him from his ship, and had left him since adrift. But since cursing past events was the least profitable method of averting future ones, he decided to take the sleep of which he stood in need, hoping for the counsel which sleep is said to bring.

He timed himself to awaken at six o'clock, the hour at which Major Macartney was to return, and, his well–trained senses responding to that command, he awakened punctually. The angle of the sun was his sufficient dock. He slipped from the bed, found his shoes, which Abraham had cleaned, his coat, which had been brushed, and his periwig, which had been combed by the good negro. He had scarcely donned them when through the open window floated up to him the sound of a voice. It was the voice of Macartney, and it was answered instantly by the Colonel's with a hearty: «Come you in, sir. Come in.»

In the nick of time, thought Blood; and he accepted the circumstances as a good omen. Cautiously he made his way below, meeting no one on the stairs or in the hall. Outside the door of the dining–room he stood listening. A hum of voices reached him. But they were distant. They came from the room beyond. Noiselessly he opened the door and slid across the threshold. The place was empty, as he had expected. The door of the adjacent room stood ajar. Through this came now the Major's laugh, and upon the heels of it the Colonel's voice.

«Depend upon it. He is under my hand. Spain, as you've said, will pay three times this sum, or even more, for him. Therefore he should be glad to ransom himself for, say, five times the amount of this advance.» He chuckled, adding: «I have the advantage of you, Major, in that I can hold him to ransom, which your position as a British officer makes impossible to you. All things considered, you are fortunate, yes, and wise, to earn a thousand pounds for yourself.»

«My God!» said Macartney, rendered suddenly virtuous by envy. «And that's how you pay your debts and reward the man for preserving your wife's life and honour! Faith, I'm glad I'm not your creditor.»

«Shall we abstain from comments?» the Colonel suggested sourly.

«Oh, by all means. Give me the money, and I'll go my ways.»

There was a chinking squelch twice repeated, as of moneybags that are raised and set down again. «It is in rolls of twenty double moidores. Will you count them?»

There followed a mumbling pause, and at the end of it came the Colonel's voice again. «If you will sign this quittance, the matter is at an end.»

«Quittance?»

«I'll read it to you.» And the Colonel read: «I acknowledge, and give Colonel Jerome de Coulevain this quittance for the sum of five thousand pieces of eight, received from him in consideration of my forbearing from any action against Captain Blood, and of my undertaking no action whatever hereafter for as long as he may remain the guest of Colonel de Coulevain on the Island of Mariegalante or elsewhere. Given under my hand and seal this tenth day of July of 1688.»

As the Colonel's voice trailed off there came an explosion from Macartney.

«God's death, Colonel! Are you mad, or do you think that I am?»

«What do you find amiss? Is it not a correct statement?»

Macartney banged the table in his vehemence. «It puts a rope round my neck.»