Martin Conisby's Vengeance Part 18

"Aye, Martin--in the matter of the--the lady yonder--Madam Joanna--"

"Joanna!" I cried, clenching my fists. "That demon!"

"Ha--demon, is it?" quoth Adam, pinching his chin and eyeing me askance.

"Doth your love grow all sudden cold--"

"Love?" cried I. "Nay--my hate waxeth for thing so evil--she is a very devil--"

"Nay, Martin, she is a poor Spanish lady, exceeding comely and with a hand, a foot, an eye, a person of birth and breeding, a dainty lady indeed, yet of a marvellous sweet conversation and gentle deportment, and worthy any man's love. I do allow--"

"Man," cried I, "you do speak arrant folly--she is Joanna!"

"Why, true, Martin, true!" said Adam soothingly and eyeing me anxious-eyed.

"She is the lady Joanna that you preserved from death and worse, it seems--"

"Says she so, Adam?"

"Aye! And, by her showing, some small--some few small--kindnesses have pa.s.sed betwixt you."

"Kindnesses?" I demanded.

"Aye, Martin, as is but natural, G.o.d knoweth. Kisses, d'ye see, embraces--"

"She lies!" quoth I, starting up in bed, "she lies!"

"Why, very well, Martin--"

"Ha, d'ye doubt my word, Adam?"

"No, Martin, no--except--when first I clapped eyes on you, she chanced to be lying in your arms, d'ye see?"

"Tush!" said I. "What o' that? 'Twas after she'd set the ship afire and sought to murder Don Federigo; we left her in the 'tween-decks and I found her nigh stifled by the smoke. Have you got her fast in the bilboes--safe under lock and key?"

"Lord love you--no. Martin!" said he, viewing me askance as I were raving.

"So young, Martin! And a bullet wound i' the arm and mighty brave, despite her tenderness, so says Penruddock our surgeon."

"Why then, in G.o.d's name--where is she?"

"Where should she be, seeing she was wounded and solitary, but with my lady Joan!"

"G.o.d forbid!" cried I.

"Why, Martin, 'tis my lady's whim--they walk together, talk, eat, aye, and sleep together, for aught I know--"

"Adam," said I, grasping him by the arm. "You know Captain Tressady of old, and Mings and Red Rory, Sol Aiken and others of the Coast Brotherhood, but have you ever met the fiercest, bravest, greatest of these rogues; have you ever heard tell of Captain 'Jo'?"

"Aye, truly, Martin, some young springald that hath risen among 'em since my time, a b.l.o.o.d.y rogue by account and one I would fain come alongside of--"

"Captain Jo lies in your power, Adam; Captain Jo is aboard; Captain Jo is Joanna herself! 'Twas Joanna fought the _Happy Despatch_ so desperately!"

Now hereupon Adam fell back a pace and stood staring down on me and pinching his chin, but with never a word. And seeing him thus incredulous still, I strove to get me out of bed.

"Easy, Martin!" said he, restraining me. "These be wild and whirling words and something hard to believe--"

"Why, then, if you doubt me still, summon hither Don Federigo an he be yet alive--"

"Look now, Martin," said he, seating himself on the bed beside me. "Since we left England I have burned or scuttled four rascally pirate craft and each and every a fighting ship, yet no one of them so mauled and battered us as this _Happy Despatch_ (whereby I have lost fourteen good fellows dead besides thirty wounded) the which as I do know was captained by one calling himself Belvedere--"

"Tush!" cried I. "He was a man of straw and would have run or struck to you after your first broadside! 'Twas Joanna and Resolution Day fought the ship after Belvedere was dead--"

"Ah, dead, is he? Why, very good!" said Adam, rising and seating himself at the table. "Here is yet another name for my journal. You saw him dead, Martin?" he questioned, taking up his pen.

"Most horribly! He was killed by the mate, Resolution Day--"

"Ha!" says Adam, turning to his writing. "'Tis a name sticks in my memory--a man I took out o' prison and saved from burning along with divers others, when we took Margarita--a tall, one-eyed man and scarred by the torment--?"

"'Tis the same! But, G.o.d forgive you, Adam, why must you be wasting time over your curst journal and idle talk--"

"I think, Martin! I meditate! For, if this be true indeed, we must go like Agog--delicately--Martin--delicately!"

"Folly--oh, folly!" cried I. "Joanna may be firing the ship as you sit scribbling there, or contriving some harm to my dear lady--act, man--act!"

"As how, Martin?" he questioned, carefully sanding what he had writ.

"Seize her ere she can strike, set her fast under lock and key, have her watched continually--"

"Hum!" said Adam, pinching his chin and viewing me with his keen gaze. "If she be so dangerous as you say, why not slay her out of hand--"

"No!" said I. "No!"

"But she is a pirate, you tell me?"

"She is! And I do know her for murderess beside!"

"How came you in her company, Martin?"

Hereupon in feverish haste I recounted much of what I have already set down concerning this strange, wild creature, to all of which he hearkened mighty attentive, pinching at his chin and a frown on his face.

"Verily!" said he, when I had done. "Never heard man stranger story!" But seeing how he regarded me in the same dubious manner, I leapt out of bed ere he might prevent and staggered with weakness. "Lord love you, Martin,"

said he, s.n.a.t.c.hing me in his iron grip, "Lord love you, what would you be at? Here's Surgeon Penruddock and his two mates with their hands full enough, as it is, G.o.d knoweth, and you sick o' your wound--" So saying, Adam bundled me back into bed, w.i.l.l.y-nilly.

"Why, then, question Don Federigo, who knoweth her better than I--summon him hither--"

"Impossible, Martin, he lieth very nigh to death."

"And what of Joanna? She is as swift as a snake and as deadly--she is a lurking danger--a constant menace, beyond thought subtle and crafty--"

"Hist!" quoth Adam, catching me by the arm and turning suddenly as came a soft rapping; then the door opened and Joanna herself stood before us, but indeed a Joanna such as I had never seen. Timid, abashed, great-eyed and wistful, she stood looking on me, her slender hands tight-clasped, her tremulous, parted lips more vivid by reason of the pallor of her cheeks, all shy and tender womanhood from the glossy ringlets at her white brow to the dainty shoe that peeped forth of her petticoat; as for me, I sank back among my pillows amazed beyond--all speech by the infinite change in her, for here was a transformation that went beyond mere lace and velvets; the change was in her very self, her look, her voice, her every gesture.