John Drake - Flint and Silver

Flint explained that this had been an unfortunate accident which was all for the best, since it removed those who had unaccountably refused to win wealth and riches by privateering. For their part, with the longboat gone and nobody forced personally to witness what might be the fate of the boat's occupants, the crew allowed themselves to believe Flint's words, and were thereby led down a slippery path towards outright bloody-handed piracy.

In this profession – having at last got what he wanted -

Flint proved a passing fair success. Or perhaps he just was lucky. Whichever, he took some good prizes, and beat up and down the Caribbean for many jolly months before fate caught up with him.

1st June 1752 Savannah, Georgia

In Selena's world there was no time for self-pity. When the shaking stopped, she went back to work.

She picked her way over and around the customers in the liquor shop, and made an effort to clear up the mess that they had made. Some of them were stirring now, and calling for more drink. Selena served them, and prodded the other girls awake to help her.

Later in the evening, after lamp-lighting time, when Flint and Neal came back to the liquor shop, a second round of debauchery was well under way. Flint and Neal were like brothers; satisfied with their business and now looking to take a drop or two in celebration. Flint merrily kicked three or four men out of their chairs and swept their pots and plates off the table to make way for himself and Neal. Roars of approval greeted their arrival, and the musicians woke themselves up and joined in the din.

This time Flint leapt on a table top, threw back his head and led the singing. His men cheered madly when they heard the song, for it was a piece of his own creation, that he sang only when in the best of spirits. Joseph Flint sang beautifully, with a high, carrying voice that was lovely to hear, and once heard never forgotten. He gave each line of the song, with his men roaring out the chorus.

"Fifteen men on the dead man's chest -"

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

"Drink and the devil had done for the rest -"

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

"But one man of her crew alive -"

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

"What put to sea with seventy-five -"

"Yo-ho-ho, and a bottle of rum!"

The song went on, verse after verse, getting steadily grimmer and darker, but with Flint so beaming and charming, acting out the horrors of the story in such splendid good humour that everyone laughed at the wickedness he was proclaiming.

When he finished, he sat down to mighty cheers, and smiled like the sun in his glory. Neal smiled too, though he'd no taste for Flint's kind of music. His mind was still full of delightful calculations concerning the cargoes in the holds of Flint's two prizes. Selena came to their table at once, with rum. Flint raised his glass to her in a polite toast. His sharp eyes swept her up and down. He frowned. He saw the miserable expression on her face and her red eyes.

"What rogue has upset you, my African Venus?" he said. He stood up, and took her chin gently in his fingers, the better to study her. "I dare swear you've been crying. Just tell me who it was," he said, in a soft, quiet voice. "Just tell me his name and I'll have the liver out of him. I'll rip it out, and slice it narrow, and feed it to him in strips." Charley Neal blinked anxiously. When other men said things like that, they weren't really thinking of opening a man's belly and sticking a hand inside to pull things out. But when Flint made the threat…

"Don't you mind her!" cried Neal, half standing. There were limits to what the colony's trustees would ignore – even for cash payment in gold. "Leave her, Joe," he said. "These black girls are ten a penny!" And he dared actually to reach out and clutch Flint's arm, as if to restrain him.

Flint was not pleased at the gesture. He frowned slightly and turned his eyes first on Neal's hand, and then on Neal himself. The Irishman fell back as if a blow had been struck.

"Sorry, Joe!" he begged. "Sorry-sorry-sorry!" He raised his hands in placation.

"Thank you, Charley," said Flint. "But be assured that this lady is not to be compared with others, and is not to be sold at the price of one tenth of a penny."

"No!" said Charley. "No, no, no!" And he shook his head as if to shake it off.

"I am glad that we are agreed," said Flint, and ignored Charley Neal. Flourishing a silk handkerchief, he made a great play of dabbing it at the corners of Selena's eyes. "So who was it that offended you, my dear? Only give me a name."

"It doesn't matter," said Selena, seeing the imploring look on Neal's face. She could not afford to upset her protector- in-chief. Neal sighed gratefully. Flint shrugged his shoulders and deigned to smile again as he looked at the girl.

"By George!" said Flint. "Where did you find such a beauty, Neal? Is this what you keep hidden at home?" He laughed and his white teeth shone. He bowed and indicated a chair. "Will you honour us, ma'am?" Selena hesitated. Neal nodded furiously. As far as he was concerned, Flint could have any girl in the house free of charge, and he could do anything he liked with them.

Flint drew out the chair and ushered Selena to her place as gallant as a nobleman with his lady, and she with her torn and tattered cotton print, and her bare feet.

This drew hoots of laughter from Flint's men, who assumed he was playing some game with the girl, and they extemporised lewd and obscene advice, which they bawled out at the tops of their voices, concerning what he should do next. But they had mistaken their captain's intentions. White showed round Flint's eyes, and Billy Bones – never far from his idol and knowing him better than anyone – silently stood back and took cover.

BANG! BANG! Flint drew and fired a pair of heavy pistols with the speed of thought. Smoke rolled and twinkling red fragments of wadding sprayed about him. He'd aimed left and right at random, not caring where the balls might whiz. He set the smoking pistols carefully back in his belt and produced a second, smaller pair, with which he menaced the room.

"Silence!" he roared, as the women shrieked and men howled.

"Aaah!" moaned a voice. "Me arm! Me sodding precious arm!"

"Who is hurt?" cried Flint. "Show yourself!"

"It's me," said a voice, "Atty Bolger." And a man stood up with a ruined arm hanging by a shattered shoulder and the blood in a growing puddle at his feet.

"God bless me!" said Flint. "Why, it is Atty Bolger, I do declare! That's a nasty wound, old shipmate. Does it hurt?"

"'Course it hurts, you cunt!"

"Uhhhhhhhhhhh!" gasped the room.

"Then shall I help you, Atty? Shall I take away your pain?"

"Aye," said Bolger, who was not one of the brightest.

CRACK! went Flint's pistol.

"And does it hurt now?" asked Flint, but Atty said not a word. And neither did any other man or woman in the room, where utter silence reigned as Flint held two hundred people by the unaided force of his own terrifying personality.

"That's better," he said. "Now… should any man here have anything else to say about this lady -" he bowed gracefully to Selena "- then let him step up now and say it to Joe Flint… just here -" he indicated a spot a yard in front of himself. After a due pause and a most remarkable absence of any sound at all, let alone further comment on Selena, Flint smiled his dazzling smile and sat down again. He ignored the rest of the room, and the din slowly returned.

Selena was goggling at Flint with big round eyes. Her ears rang with the detonation of the pistols and her mouth hung open in amazement.

"Pop!" said Flint, flicking a finger under her chin and snapping her mouth shut. He laughed and looked her over once more. Flint had been at sea just as long as John Silver and the others, and like them he had need of a woman. But his needs were more singular. For one thing, Flint was extremely particular where women were concerned. He demanded considerable beauty, and specific circumstances. He had just found the former, and now he set about procuring the latter.