The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

"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.