The Corsair King Part 4

"You once taught me many prayers, grandmother."

"Do not forget them. _We_ pray for you every day."

"Yes indeed," said the younger sister. "Grandmother reads from the prayer-book, and then we repeat a long prayer, in which we name all the good things we entreat G.o.d to grant you and all the evil ones from which we beseech him to guard you: storms, sickness, shipwreck, hunger, thirst, sharks, savages, and above all, Robert Barthelemy."

The young man gazed at her with a smile. "And why from Robert Barthelemy?" he asked.

"Because he is a wicked pirate, whom no one can resist, who is in league with the devil, and who either burns all whom he captures over a slow fire or else casts them into the sea."

"That is not true, Barthelemy never tortures any one."

"Oh, we remember him, too, in our daily prayer."

"Do you?"

"Yes indeed. Every day, crossing ourselves three times, we entreat G.o.d to sink to the bottom of the sea the horrible monster, whom we hold in such fear for your sake."

"So you all remember Robert Barthelemy at the end of your prayers?"

asked the youth, embracing the girls in turn as they hung weeping and laughing around his neck.

"Julietta!" said one, "sing William the song you composed about him and the pirates."

"You have composed a song about me and the pirates?" asked the youth.

Julietta flushed crimson and after withdrawing shyly from his embrace she sang in a sweet, tremulous voice:

Far, far away the white dove flies, In fierce pursuit the black hawk hies, The dove is my lover so dear, The hawk is the pirate I fear.

Oh, G.o.d, stretch forth Thy mighty arm My absent lover shield from harm.

Wing the dove's flight, The black hawk smite; Back to its nest let the white dove flee, Whelm the black hawk beneath the sea.

"Do you understand?" asked the younger sister. "You are the dove, and the hawk is--Robert Barthelemy."

The young man showered kisses upon the three beautiful girls, not one of whom suspected that the dear brother, the still dearer lover, whom they embraced was--Robert Barthelemy himself.

Yet it was even so. This quiet little house had sheltered his childhood, the gray-haired woman had taught him to pray, the merry girls to love.

Two families had emigrated to this island, one from Ireland, the other from Corsica; the parents of both speedily succ.u.mbed to the foreign climate, and the two families became united under one roof. Julietta grew up as William's sister to become finally his affianced wife.

They were poor, and it pierced the young man to the heart to witness their penury. He longed for a fairer fortune, and often stood on the threshold absorbed in watching some ship vanishing across the sea. He frequently met sailors who came on sh.o.r.e for fresh water, and heard of their wonderful adventures, of countries with golden sands, of the good luck of sailors, and when he returned home he brooded in gloomy silence for hours.

One day he told his family that he was going to seek his fortune and, bidding them farewell, embarked on a slave ship. Their tears at his departure, the memory of how they followed him, renewing their farewell, how his affianced wife, forgetting her maidenly shyness, convulsively embraced him, covering his face with tears and kisses, sinking unconscious on the sh.o.r.e as his boat tossed on the waves toward the ship--all these things remained forever engraved on William's heart, though Fate in after days inscribed much more upon it.

His industry and honesty made him popular upon the ship, first he became boatswain, then mate, and was already on his way home with the wages he had saved, already saw in imagination the home, the family for whom he intended to win a better fate, when the ship was attacked and captured by pirates.

William fought single-handed against ten, but in vain, superior numbers prevailed. Knives already glittered at his throat, when the captain's hoa.r.s.e voice shouted: "The lad must not be hurt. Bring him to me alive."

The pirates seized the youth and bore him to their leader. William looked at him in horror. It was Davis, the Sea Devil.

"You are a good fighter," said Davis in his shrill, piercing tones, "it's a pity that you became an ordinary sailor, you would have been a splendid pirate. Boys, give him a drink."

One of the pirates held his calabash filled with rum to William's lips, but he turned his head away in loathing. To drink from the pirates' cups means joining the band.

"Ha! ha!" cried the captain laughing, "You are an obstinate fellow. Have you ever seen a man tied to the main-mast when the sun is hottest? Or have you witnessed the jest of sewing a man naked in a raw hide and exposing him to the sun's rays till the skin on his body shrivels?"

"You can torture me," William remarked quietly.

"That is why I shall _not_," answered Davis. "Here, men, release this fellow and guard him well, for we shall yet make a man of him. Since I turned pirate, this is the first rascal who has dared to defy me: take good care of him, he'll be my successor some day."

William remained on the pirate ship, hoping that it would encounter a stronger vessel and he would thus be released.

Not a week pa.s.sed without a fray, the pirates attacked every vessel that appeared on the horizon, even when it was larger than their own, and always conquered; the foe was vanquished or yielded, fortune favored the robbers.

At last two ships of war pursued the Sea Devil. William now hoped confidently for liberation. The foe had eighty guns and two hundred men, while the pirate had thirty guns and a crew of sixty.

When the pirates perceived that they could not fly, they boldly attacked one of the frigates and, at the first fire, sent a red hot ball into the enemy's powder magazine. The vessel was instantly blown into the air, her companion set sail and, with cowardly haste, fled from the pirates.

"So that is the fate of honest folk!" thought William, as the pirates'

shouts of victory echoed around him, and turning to his next neighbor, he said:

"Give me a drink from your calabash."

The man was Skyrme.

"All right, my lad!" shouted the Hercules, giving the youth a hearty slap on the shoulder, "I knew this would be the end."

As he spoke he drew the young man to the captain and, before the eyes of the whole ship's company, he wrote in the black book the name: Robert Barthelemy.

Sisters, betrothed bride, and grandmother had wept till their hearts were relieved. The hour had pa.s.sed, William had returned. He could not give his family a single shilling, though his ship was full of treasure.

But it was all stolen property, and William could bring nothing stained with crime beneath the roof where his dear ones dwelt--poor, but pure in heart.

The gray-haired grandmother kissed and blessed him, her tears falling on his head, the girls went with him to the sh.o.r.e and, while Julietta clung about his neck, the others lingered behind, in order not to disturb the sweet mysterious whispers of the lovers.

"When shall you return?" asked the girl.

"When I can make you happy."

"Your love alone can do that. You need not sail the sea for my happiness, it could be gained by seeing you always at my side."

"That is what children think. I wish we could never outgrow the belief.

But--in the hands of the poor everything is poor, even happiness."

The young girl shook her head.

Meanwhile they reached a copse which concealed the sh.o.r.e, and here the young man stopped.

"Don't go any farther; my companions are rough sailors, I do not wish them to disturb our parting. Turn back now. Our grandmother is expecting you."