The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

Montbarts remained for a moment motionless, plunged in deep thought; then, giving a sudden start, and passing his hand over his forehead, as if to efface any sign of emotion, he hastily re-entered the hatto.

The deliberation was ended. The filibusters had returned to their seats, and Montbarts went back to his, and waited with affected indifference, till one of his comrades thought proper to speak.

"Brother," David then said, "we have thoroughly discussed your proposal. My comrades authorize me to tell you that they accept it, but they merely desire to know what means you intend to employ in carrying out your plan, and insuring its success?"

"Brothers, I thank you," Montbarts replied, "for giving me your consent. As to the means I intend to employ in seizing Tortoise Isle, permit me, for the present, to keep them secret, as the success of the expedition depends on it. You need only be told that I do not wish to compromise the interests of anyone, and that I intend to run all the risk alone."

"You do not understand me, brother, or else I have explained myself badly," David replied. "If I asked you in what way you proposed to act, I was not at all impelled by a puerile curiosity, but because, in so serious a question, which interests the entire association, we have resolved to accompany you, and to die or conquer with you. We wish to share the honour of the triumph, or assume a part of the defeat." Montbarts felt involuntarily affected by these generous words, so nobly pronounced; and by a spontaneous movement he held out his hands to the filibusters, who pressed them energetically, and said, —

"You are right, brothers. We must all share in the great work which, I hope, will at length place us in the position to achieve great things. We will all go to Tortoise Island. But I will ask you – and believe me that I am not speaking thus through any ambitious motive – to let me conduct the expedition."

"Are you not our chief?" the filibusters exclaimed.

"We will obey you according to the laws of buccaneering," David added. "The man who conceives an expedition has alone the right to command. We will be your soldiers."

"That is settled, brothers. Tomorrow morning, at eleven, after attending the sale of the new engagés, who arrived from France the day before yesterday, I will go to the governor, and tell him I am preparing a fresh expedition, and enlistment can begin at once."

"Not one of us will be missing at the rendezvous," said Belle Tête. "I must buy two engagés to fill the places of two idlers, who have just died of sheer idleness."

"That is settled," said Bartholomew. "At eleven o'clock we will all be at Basse Terre."

They then rose and prepared to retire: for the whole night had passed away in these discussions, and the sun, although still beneath the horizon, was already beginning to tinge it with a purple hue, that testified it would soon appear.

"By the way," Montbarts said, with an indifferent air to Morgan, whom with the rest he accompanied to the head of the path; "if you are not greatly attached to your Carib – I forget how you call him – "

"Omopoua?"

"Ah! yes. Well, I was saying that if you were not indisposed to part with him, I should feel obliged by your letting me have him."

"Do you want him?"

"Yes. I think he will be useful to me."

"In that case, take him, brother. I yield him to you, although he is a good workman, and I am satisfied with him."

"Thanks, brother. What value do you set on him?"

"Well, I will not bargain with you, brother. I saw a rather handsome fusil in your house. Give it to me, and take the Indian, and we shall be quits."

"Wait a minute, then."

"Why?"

"Because I will give you the fusil at once. You will send me the Indian; or, if I have time, I will call and fetch him during the day."

The filibuster returned to the hatto, took down the fusil, and carried it to Morgan, who threw it on his shoulder with a movement of joy.

"Well, that is settled," he said. "Good-bye, for the present."

"We shall meet again soon," Montbarts answered, and they separated.

Montbarts threw a thick cloak over his shoulders, put on a broad brimmed hat, whose brim fell over his face, and concealed his features, and then turning to Michael, said:

"Mate, an important matter obliges me to go to Basse Terre; you will go to our governor, the Chevalier de Fontenay, and without entering into any details, and being very careful not to betray our secret, you will simply warn him that I am preparing a fresh expedition."

"Very good, mate, I will go," Michael answered.

"You will then examine the lugger, and occupy yourself with Bowline, in getting her ready to put to sea."

After giving these instructions to the two sailors, Montbarts left the house, and descended the cliff.

The Chevalier de Fontenay, like M. d'Esnambuc, whom he had succeeded two years before as governor of St. Kitts, was a cadet of Normandy, who had come to the isles to try his fortune, and before becoming governor had joined in many buccaneering expeditions. He was exactly the man they wanted; he left them at liberty to act as they pleased, never asked them for any accounts, understood at half a word, and contented himself with raising a tithe on the prizes – a voluntary tribute which the adventurers paid him in return for the protection he was supposed to give them in the king's name by legitimating their position.

The sun had risen, a fresh sea breeze caused the leaves to rustle, and the birds were singing on the branches. Montbarts walked on hurriedly, looking neither to the right nor left, and apparently plunged in deep thought.

On reaching the entrance of the village of Basse Terre, instead of entering it, he skirted it, and going along a narrow path that crossed a tobacco plantation, he went toward the interior of the island, proceeding in the direction of Mount Misery, whose rise was already perceptible beneath his feet.

After a very long walk, the filibuster at length stopped at the entrance of a dry gorge, on one of the slopes of which stood a wretched hut of tree trunks, poorly covered with palm leaves. A man was standing in the doorway of this cabin: on perceiving Montbarts he uttered a cry of joy and rushed toward him, running over the rocks with the rapidity and lightness of a deer.

This man was Omopoua, the Carib; on coming up to the filibuster, he fell on his knees.

"Rise," the adventurer said to him, "what have you to thank me for?"

"My master told me an hour ago that I no longer belonged to him, but to you."

"Well, did I not promise it to you?"

"That is true, but the white men always promise, and never keep their word."

"You see a proof of the contrary; come, get up, your master has sold you to me, it is true, but I give you your liberty; you have now but one master, God."

The Indian rose, laid his hand on his chest, tottered, his features were contracted, and for a moment he seemed suffering from a violent internal emotion, which in spite of all the power he had over himself, he could not succeed in mastering.

Montbarts, calm and gloomy, examined him attentively, while fixing a scrutinizing glance upon him.

At length the Indian succeeded in speaking, though his voice issued from his throat like a whistle.

"Omopoua was a renowned chief among his people," he said; "a Spaniard had degraded him by making him a slave, through treachery, and selling him like a beast of burden: you restore Omopoua to the rank from which he ought never to have descended. It is well, you lose a bad slave, but gain a devoted friend; were it not for you I should be dead – my life belongs to you."

Montbarts offered the Carib his hand, which he kissed respectfully.

"Do you intend to remain at Saint Kitts, or would you like to return to Haiti?"

"The family of Omopoua," the Indian replied, "and what remains of his people, are wandering about the savannahs of Bohis, but where you go, I will go."

"Very good, you shall follow me; now lead me to the man, you know whom."

"At once."

"Are you certain he is a Spaniard?"

"I am."

"You do not know for what motives he has entered the island?"

"I do not."

"And at what place has he sought shelter?"

"With an Englishman."

"In the English colony there?"

"No; at Basse Terre."

"All the better. What is the Englishman's name?"

"Captain William Drake."

"Captain Drake!" Montbarts exclaimed with surprise, "It is impossible."

"It is so."

"In that case, the Captain does not know him."

"No; the man entered his house and asked for hospitality, and the Captain could not refuse it to him."

"That is true; go up to my hatto, take clothes, a fusil – in short, what weapons you like, and come to me at Captain Drake's; if I am no longer there, you will find me on the port; begone."

Montbarts then turned back, and proceeded toward Basse Terre, while the Carib went towards the hatto as the bird flies, according to Indian custom.

Basse Terre was the entrepôt, or to speak more correctly, the headquarters of the French colony: at the period when our story is laid it was only a miserable township, built without order, according to the caprice or convenience of each owner, an agglomeration of huts, rather than a town, but producing at a distance a most picturesque effect through this very chaos of houses of all shapes and sizes, thus grouped along the seashore, in front of magnificent roads, filled with vessels swinging at their anchors, and constantly furrowed by an infinite number of canoes.

A battery of six guns, built on an advanced point, defended the entrance of the roads.

But in this town, apparently so mean, dirty, and wretched, it was possible to watch the circulation of the life full of sap, vigour, and violence belonging to the strange inhabitants, unique in the world, who formed its heterogeneous population. The narrow gloomy streets were crowded with people of every description and colour, who came and went with a busy air.

There were pothouses at the corner of all the streets and squares, perambulating dealers shouted their goods in a ropy voice, and public criers, followed by a crowd which was swelled at every step by all the idlers, announced with a mighty noise of trumpets and drums, the sale on that very day of the engagés, who had just arrived in a Company's vessel.

Montbarts passed unnoticed through the crowd, and reached the door of Captain Drake's house – a rather handsome looking and cleanly kept house, which stood on the seashore at no great distance from the governor's residence.

The filibuster pushed the door, which, according to the custom of the country, was not locked, and entered the house.

CHAPTER XV

THE SPY

Montbarts, as we said, walked into the house.

There were two persons in the first room, which was contrived a double debt to pay, as half sitting room, half kitchen.

These two persons were an engagé of Captain Drake and a stranger.

As for the Captain, he was absent at the moment.

The filibuster's eye flashed at the sight of the stranger, and an ill-omened smile curled his pale lips.

As for the latter, he was seated at a table in the middle of the room, and quietly breakfasting on a piece of cold bacon, washed down by a bottle of Bordeaux, – a wine, let us remark, parenthetically, which, though unknown in Paris till the reign of Louis XV., when the Duc de Richelieu brought it into fashion on his return from the government of Guyenne – had been for a long time appreciated in America.

The stranger was of rather tall stature, with a pale face, and ascetic features, thin, bony, and angular; but his noble manners indicated a high rank in society, which rank his simple and even more than modest costume tried in vain to conceal.

On the filibuster's entrance, the stranger, without raising his head, took a side-glance at him from under his long velvety eyelashes, and again became absorbed or appeared to be so, in the contemplation of the capital breakfast set before him.

Everything was in common among the filibusters, everyone took from the other, whether he was at home or not, anything he wanted, arms, gunpowder, clothes or food, and the person from whom it was taken had no right to protest or make the slightest observation; this was not merely admitted and tolerated, but was regarded as a right which all took advantage of without the slightest scruple.

Montbarts, after looking round the room, took a chair, seated himself unceremoniously opposite the stranger, and turning to the engagé, said —

"Bring me some breakfast – I am hungry."

The other, without venturing the slightest remark, immediately prepared to obey.

In a very short time he had served up an excellent breakfast for the filibuster, and then took his place behind his chair to wait on him.

"My friend," the filibuster said, carelessly, "I thank you; but when I take my meals I do not like to have anybody behind me. Leave the room, but remain in front of the house door;" and he added, with a singularly meaning glance, "let no one enter here without my orders: no one – you understand me?" he said, laying a stress on the words; "Not even your master, were he to come. Can I depend on you?"

"Yes, Montbarts," said the engagé, and left the room.

At the name of Montbarts, uttered by the servant, the stranger gave an almost imperceptible start, and fixed an anxious glance on the filibuster; but immediately recovering himself, he began eating again in the most perfect tranquillity, or at least apparently so.

For his part, Montbarts went on eating without troubling himself, or seeming to trouble himself, about the guest seated just opposite to him.

This performance went on for some minutes; no other sound was heard in the room, where such violent passions were smouldering, but that produced by the knives and forks scratching on the platters.

At length Montbarts raised his head and looked at the stranger.

"You are very taciturn, sir," he said to him, with the simple air of a man who is wearied at a lengthened silence, and wishes to get up a conversation.

"I, sir?" the stranger replied, as he looked up in his turn with the calmest air; "Not that I am aware of."

"Still, sir," the filibuster resumed, "I would remark, that during the quarter of an hour I have had the honour of passing in your company, you have not once addressed a syllable to me, not even in greeting."

"Pray excuse me, sir," the stranger said, with a slight bow; "the fault is entirely involuntary: besides, as I have not the advantage of knowing you – ?

"Are you quite sure of that, sir?" the adventurer interrupted, ironically.

"At least, I think so; hence, having nothing to say to you, I suppose that it would be useless to begin a conversation which would have no object."

"Who knows, sir?" the filibuster remarked, jeeringly; "Conversations the most frivolous at the outset, frequently become very interesting at the expiration of a few minutes."

"I doubt whether that would be the case with ours, sir. Permit me, therefore, to break it off at once. Besides, I have finished my meal," the stranger said, rising; "and some serious business claims my attention. Pray forgive me, therefore, for parting company so hurriedly, and believe in the sincerity of my regret."

The adventurer did not leave his seat, but throwing himself back in it with a graceful nonchalance, while playing with the knife he held in his hand, he said in his gentle insinuating voice —

"Pardon me, my dear sir; only one word, pray."

"In that case make haste, sir," the stranger replied, as he stopped, "for I am greatly pressed for time, I assure you."

"Oh! You will certainly grant me a few minutes," the adventurer remarked, with the old sarcasm.

"As you desire it so eagerly, I will not refuse it you, sir. But I really am in a hurry."

"I have no doubt on that point, sir; more especially hurried to leave this house – is it not so?"

"What do you mean, sir?" the stranger asked, haughtily.

"I mean," the adventurer replied, as he rose and placed himself between the stranger and the door, "that it is useless to feign any longer, and that you are recognized."

"I recognized? I do not understand you. What does this language mean?"

"It means," Montbarts said brutally, "that you are a spy and a traitor, and that you will be hanged within ten minutes."

"I?" the stranger replied, with very cleverly assumed surprise; "Why, you must be mad, sir, or suffering under a strange mistake. Let me pass, I request."

"I am not mad or mistaken, Señor Don Antonio de la Ronda."

The stranger started, a livid pallor covered his face, but he immediately recovered himself.

"Why, this is madness!" he said.

"Sir," Montbarts remarked, still calm, but remaining in front of the door, "when I affirm, you deny. It is evident that one of us lies, or is mistaken. Now I declare that it is not I, hence it must be you; and to remove your last doubts on this point, listen to this, but first be good enough to resume your seat. We shall have, however much it may annoy you, to converse for some time and I will remark, that it is a very bad taste to talk standing face to face like two gamecocks ready to fly at each other's combs, when it is possible to act otherwise."

Mastered, in spite of himself, by the adventurer's flashing glance obstinately fixed on him, and by his sharp, imperative accent, the stranger returned to his seat, and fell into it rather than sat down.

"Now, sir," the filibuster continued, in the same calm voice, as he reseated himself and placed his elbows on the table, "in order at once to dissipate all the doubts you may have, and to prove to you that I know more about you than you will doubtless like, let me tell you your history in a couple of words."

"Sir!" the stranger interrupted.

"Oh, fear nothing," he added, with studied sarcasm, "I shall be brief: I no more like than you do to waste my time in idle discourses; but just notice, by the bye, that, as I prophesied, our conversation, at first frivolous, has suddenly grown interesting. Is not this singular, I ask you?"

"I am awaiting your explanation, sir," the stranger replied, coolly; "for, up to the present, whatever you may say, I do not comprehend a word of all that it pleases you to say to me."

"By Heavens! You are a man after my heart. I was not mistaken about you. Brave, cold, and crafty, you are worthy to be a filibuster, and to lead an adventurous life with us."

"You do me a great honour, sir; but all this does not tell me – "

"Zounds! I am coming to it, sir – a little patience. How quick you are! Take care: in your profession a man must be cool before all else, and you are not so at this moment."

"You are very witty, sir," the stranger said, bowing ironically to his opponent.

The latter was offended by this sudden attack, and smote the table with his fist.

"Here is your history in two words, sir," he said. "You are an Andalusian, born at Malaga, a younger son, and consequently destined to take orders. One fine day, not feeling any liking for the tonsure, you fled from the paternal roof and embarked on a Spanish vessel bound for Hispaniola. Your name is Don Antonio de la Ronda. You see, sir, that up to this point I am well informed, am I not?"

"Pray go on, sir," the stranger replied, with perfect coolness; "your remarks are most interesting." Montbarts shrugged his shoulders, and went on.

"On arriving at Hispaniola, you contrived, in a short time, thanks to your good looks and polished manners, to secure powerful protectors; and thus, though you only left Europe three years ago, you have made such rapid progress, that you are at present one of the most influential men in the colony. Unluckily – "

"Do you say unluckily?" the stranger interrupted with a jeering smile.

"Yes, sir," the adventurer replied imperturbably; "unluckily your fortune turned your head so thoroughly – "

"So thoroughly?"

"That in defiance of your friends, you were arrested and threatened with a trial for embezzling a sum of nearly two million piastres; a noble amount, on which I compliment you. Any other man but you, sir, I feel a pleasure in allowing the fact, would have been ruined, or nearly so, as the case was very serious; and the Council of the Indies does not joke on money matters."

"Permit me to interrupt you, my dear sir," the stranger said with the most perfect ease; "you are telling this story in a very talented manner, but if you go on so, it threatens to last indefinitely. If you permit it, I will finish it in a few words."

"Ah! Ah! Then you allow its truth now?"

"Of course," the stranger said with admirable coolness.

"You acknowledge yourself to be Don Antonio de la Ronda?"

"Why should I deny it longer, when you are so well informed?"

"Better still; so that you confess to fraudulently entering the colony for the object of – "

"I confess anything you like," the Spaniard said quickly.

"Well, that being well established, you deserve to be hung, and you will be so in a few minutes."

"Well, no," he replied without losing any of his coolness; "that is where we differ essentially in opinion, sir, your conclusion is not in the least logical."

"What?" the adventurer exclaimed, surprised at this sudden change of humour which he did not expect.

"I said that your conclusion was not logical."

"I heard you perfectly."

"And I am going to prove it," he continued; "grant me in your turn a few moments' attention."

"Very good; we must be merciful to those who are about to die."

"You are very kind; but thank Heaven I am not there yet. There's many a slip between the cup and the lip, as a very sensible proverb says."

"Go on," the filibuster said with an ominous smile.

But the Spaniard was not affected.

"It is evident to me, sir, that you have some business or bargain to propose to me."

"I?"

"Certainly, and for this reason; having recognized me as a spy, for I must allow that I am really one (you see that I am frank in my confession), nothing was easier for you than to have me strung up to the nearest tree, without any form of trial."

"Yes, but I am going to do so."

"No, you will not do it now, and for this reason. You believe for reasons I am ignorant of, for I will not insult you by supposing that you had a feeling of pity for me, you who are so justly called by my countrymen the Exterminator – you believe, I say, that I can serve you, be useful to you in the success of one of your plans; consequently instead of having me hanged, as you would have done under any other circumstances, you came straight to find me here, where I fancied myself well hidden, in order to converse with me, like one friend with another. Well, I ask for nothing better, come, speak, I am listening; what do you want of me?"

And after uttering these words with the most easy air he could assume, Don Antonio threw himself back in his chair delicately rolling a cigarette between his fingers.

The filibuster gazed for a moment at the Spaniard with a surprise which he did not attempt to conceal, and then burst into a laugh.

"That will do," he said, "I prefer that; at least there will be no misunderstanding between us. Yes, you have guessed correctly, I have a proposal to make to you."

"That was not difficult to discover, sir; and pray what is the nature of the proposal?"

"Well, it is very simple, I only require you to act exactly in the opposite way to what you intended, to change sides, in short."

"Very good, I understand, that is to say, instead of betraying you for the advantage of Spain, I am to betray Spain for your profit."

"Yes, you see it is easy."

"Very easy, in fact, but decidedly shabby; and supposing that I consent to your request, what advantage shall I derive from it?"

"In the first place I need hardly say that you will not be hung."

"Pooh! To die by hanging, drowning, or a musket ball, is always much the same thing. I should desire a more distinct benefit, with your leave."

"Confound it, you are difficult to satisfy, then it is nothing to save one's neck from a slip knot?"

"My dear sir, when, as in my case, a man has nothing to lose and consequently everything to gain by any change in his position, death is rather a comfort than a calamity."