The Story of Jack Ballister's Fortunes. Говард Пайл
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left if you dare to play me.”
“Dare! Why should I not dare to play you, Dick Parker! D’ye think I’m afeard of you? I’ll play you as long as ye can see. Why not?”
Harry Oliver pushed back his chair and rose. He came rather unsteadily to where Mr. Parker sat. “Don’t do it, Dick,” said he, thickly. “Don’t you play that man. He’s a bloody villain, Dick, and ’tisn’t fit you should play him. D’ye forget what everybody knows, and that he had a hand in Ned’s death?”
“Sit down, Oliver!” the other replied, wiping his face with his sleeve. “Here, Parrot, clear the table of these cards and hand the dice over here. There’s your cup, you villain!” and he tossed the box across the table. “And now set your stakes and throw your cast.”
Everybody gathered around the two to watch the game, and for a while nothing was heard but the rattle and fall of the dice. At first the luck ran all in Mr. Parker’s favor, and Teach’s face grew blacker and blacker. Then suddenly fortune changed, and in a little while the winner had lost everything he had gained. Again and again he threw, and again and again he lost. He played more and more desperately, and his opponent grinned at every cast.
“Don’t play any more, Parker!” cried Harry Oliver. “Your luck’s against you, and you’ve lost too much already.” But the other only pushed him aside with his elbow, and gathered up the dice with trembling fingers. At last he dashed down the dice and box furiously, and thereupon Captain Teach burst out laughing. “And have ye had enough?” he exulted hoarsely.
Mr. Parker stared haughtily at him without deigning any reply. “Did you order out the horses, Oliver?” he said, pushing back his chair and rising.
“Yes, I did. They’re waiting outside now, and have been this hour.”
“Then, come along, let us go; ’tis nearly morning now.”
The moon, nearing its last quarter, hung in the east like a flattened globe of white light. The air was chill and smelt rank of marsh and woodland. The mocking birds were singing in ceaseless medley from the inky-black thickets beyond. Blackbeard followed the two gentlemen as they came out of the house. “And when may I look for you to settle your losses, Mr. Parker?” said he.
“I’ll talk with you to-morrow,” said Mr. Parker, as he set his foot in the stirrup.
“But you’ll give me some written obligation of some sort, won’t you?”
“I tell you, sirrah, I’ll talk with you to-morrow. Do you hear me? To-morrow.” And then the two gentlemen rode away into the night, leaving the other standing looking after them.
CHAPTER X
INTO BONDAGE
IT was the morning after the arrival at Yorktown. Jack was awake and up on deck bright and early. The sun had just risen upon a clear and cloudless day, and the brisk, fresh wind drove the crisp waves splashing against the brig as she rode at anchor. The foliage of the trees on shore whitened to the breeze, and the smoke blew sharply away here and there from some tall brick chimney. The town looked fresh and strangely new in the brightness of the morning. Three of the vessels that had lain in the harbor over night were getting under way. The yo-hoeing of the sailors, and the creaking and rattling of block and tackle, as the sails rose higher and higher apeak, sounded sharp and clear across the water. One large schooner, heeling over before the wind, slid swiftly and silently past the Arundel. Three or four sailors, clustered along the rail, were looking over toward the Arundel as they passed the brig, but the man at the helm – he wore a red woolen monteray cap – gazed out steadily ahead, stooping a little so as to see under the boom of the mainsail.
Several of the redemptioners had come up on deck; one or two of them, doubtless remembering the tumult and disorder of the night before, wore a hang-dog doubtful look. Suddenly Jack saw the mate coming toward them from aft. “What are ye doing up here on deck!” he called out. “Weren’t you ordered below last night? Very well then, you go down below now, and don’t ye come up till you’re sent for; d’ye hear?” The men, though sullen and lowering, had no thought of disobeying the mate’s orders, and Jack, with the others, climbed down the ladder into the forecastle again.
It was well toward the middle of the day, and Jack was lounging in his berth, when Dred suddenly appeared in the steerage. He stood looking silently around for a moment or two, and then, seeing Jack, beckoned to him. Dred did not speak until they were out in the forecastle. “The agent’s come from shore to take you all off, lad,” said he; “he’s with Captain Butts in the cabin now, and in a minute or two you’ll be sent for.”
“To take us ashore?” said Jack. A sudden, keen pang gripped his heart, followed instantly by an utter falling away of the spirits, that left him almost physically weak. “To take us ashore?” Had the time then come at last?
“Aye,” said Dred, “ye’ve got to go ashore now, lad. But sit you down there a bit,” and he pointed to a sea-chest. “I’ve a notion to try and tidy ye up a bit. I don’t choose to have ye looking like they riff-raff,” and he jerked his head toward the steerage. “D’ye see, we two ha’ been mates, ha’n’t we?” He had taken out his gunny-bag, and he now brought out of it his needle and thread. He looked up at Jack from under his brows and then looked away again. Jack did not return the look but sat with dry and choking throat, his breath coming hot and heavy from him. “Well, then,” said Dred, “seeing as we’re messmates, I won’t have ye going ashore looking like nothing but trash. Give me your coat and waistcoat.” He had threaded his needle and waxed the thread deftly. Jack stripped off his coat and waistcoat, and without a word Dred began mending the frayed and tattered edges of the waistcoat. Jack sat silently in his shirt-sleeves watching him. He knew that Dred was talking for the sake of talking. He felt almost stifled with his hot and labored breathing as he sat watching the other’s busy fingers.
“There, that looks betterish,” said Dred, holding the waistcoat off and looking at it, still carefully avoiding Jack’s eyes as he did so. “Here, take it,” and he tossed it to Jack. “And now for the coat. I be a wonderful man at mending clothes, ben’t I? Lord! what a hole is here, to be sure.” There was a long time of silence, Dred busily sewing away at the coat. “There,” said he at last, “what d’ ye think of that for a bit of mending? Well, well, lad, the time comes to all on us to part some time, so what matters it soon or late? Harkee, Jack; don’t you go making trouble for yourself. You be a good boy, and you’ll be treated well enough, I dare say. You’re mightily young yet, and five or six year won’t matter so much to you, and then think o’ what a deal you’ll see in that time.” He was talking very briskly, meantime putting away the needle and thread neatly.
Five years! Jack stood watching Dred fumbling in his gunny-bag. Presently he fetched out a pair of yarn stockings. “Here, put these on,” said he, “the ones you got be all full of holes. Give ‘em to me.”
Jack did not dare to trust himself to speak. He began dumbly changing his stockings, Dred standing over him.
Suddenly the boatswain appeared at the companion-way of the forecastle, and piped all hands up on deck. Jack and Dred went up together. Captain Butts and the agent were standing waiting for the men, the agent holding a little packet of papers in his hand. Jack, in a glance, saw that the agent was a tall, lean man dressed in rusty black, wearing a long, black coat, and with the flaps of his hat tied up with leather thongs. His lips moved as he counted the redemptioners, one by one, as they came up out of the companion-way and were formed in a line before him by the boatswain. A great, flat boat, rowed by four negroes and with a white man in the stern, had been made fast to the side of the brig. “Nineteen, twenty – that’s all of ‘em, Captain,” – the agent had counted Jack in with the others, – “and very lucky you’ve been with ‘em. Now, Bo’s’n, get ‘em down as soon as you can.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” said the boatswain; and then to the men, “Now then, look alive, my hearties, and don’t take all day about it!”
Then, suddenly, Jack went straight up to where the agent stood. “Sir,” said he, hoarsely, “I have been ill-used. I was knocked down and kidnapped,