Black Bartlemys Treasure | Page 7

striking distance, yet was he sore wounded and so weak withal that he
was fain to rest him awhile. And ever his impassive eyes looked up into
mine the while I nerved myself to meet the blow unflinching (an it
might be so). Once more he raised himself, his arm lifted slowly, the
dagger gleamed and fell, its keen edge severing the cords that bound
me, and with a sudden effort I broke free and stood staring down into
those impassive eyes as one in a dream. Then, lifting a feeble hand, he
pointed to the tattered sails of the English ship hard by, and so, resting
his head upon his arm as one that is very weary, he sighed; and with the
sigh I think the life passed out of him.
Turning, I was upon the quarter-railing in a single leap, and, without a
glance at the red havoc behind me, I plunged over and down.
The sharp sting of the brine struck me like a myriad needle- points, but
the sweet cool of the waters was wondrous grateful to my sun-scorched

body as, coming to the surface, I struck out for the English ship though
sore hampered by my chain.
Presently coming beneath her lofty stern I found hanging therefrom a
tangle of ropes and cordage whereby I contrived to clamber aboard, and
so beheld a man in a red seaman's bonnet who sat upon the wreckage of
one of the quarter guns tying up a splinter-gash in his arm with hand
and teeth; perceiving me he rolled a pair of blue eyes up at me and
nodded:
"Welcome aboard, lad!" says he, having knotted the bandage to his
liking. "Be ye one as can understand good English?"
"Aye!," says I, nodding.
"Why then bear witness as I be a patient soul and marciful. Be witness
as I held my fire so long as any marciful soul might by token that I
knew what a broadside can do among crowded rowing-
benches--having rowed aboard one o' they Spanish hells afore now --so
I held my fire till yon devil's craft came nigh cutting me asunder--and
marcy hath its limits. Timothy Spence o' the "Tiger", master, is me,
homeward bound for the Port of London, and by this fight am short five
good men. But you're a proper big 'un. Go for'ard to the bo'sun, you
shall know him by reason that he lacketh his starboard yere. Ask him
for clothes to cover thy nakedness, lad, and--Oho, there goeth yon
devil's craft--!" Turning as he spoke I saw the sharp bows of the
"Esmeralda" lift and lift, high and higher, and, with a long-drawn
gurgling roar, the great galleass plunged down stern foremost, burying
her shame and misery from the eyes of man for evermore.
Thus then I sailed with Master Timothy Spence aboard the "Tiger," a
free man after five years of anguish.

CHAPTER I
OF WHAT BEFELL ON PEMBURY HILL
It was a night of tempest with rain and wind, a great wild wind that
shouted mightily near and far, filling the world with halloo; while, ever
and anon, thunder crashed and lightning flamed athwart the muddy
road that wound steeply up betwixt grassy banks topped by swaying
trees. Broken twigs, whirling down the wind, smote me in the dark,
fallen branches reached out arms that grappled me unseen, but I held on
steadfastly, since every stride carried me nearer to vengeance, that
vengeance for the which I prayed and lived. So with bared head lifted
exulting to the tempest and grasping the stout hedge-stake that served
me for staff, I climbed the long ascent of Pembury Hill.
Reaching the summit at last I must needs stay awhile to catch my
breath and shelter me as well as I might 'neath the weather bank, for
upon this eminence the rain lashed and the wind smote me with a fury
redoubled.
And now, as I stood amid that howling darkness, my back propped by
the bank, my face lifted to the tempest, I was aware of a strange sound,
very shrill and fitful, that reached me 'twixt the booming wind-gusts, a
sound that came and went, now loud and clear, anon faint and remote,
and I wondered what it might be. Then the rushing dark was split
asunder by a jagged lightning- flash, and I saw. Stark against the glare
rose black shaft and crossbeam, wherefrom swung a creaking shape of
rusty chains and iron bands that held together something shrivelled and
black and wet with rain, a grisly thing that leapt on the buffeting wind,
that strove and jerked as it would fain break free and hurl itself down

upon me.
Now hearkening to the dismal creak of this chained thing, I fell to
meditation. This awful shape (thought I)