The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

"What do I care whether you believe me or not?" he said.

"That is possible, but it is of great consequence to me to be certain of the fact; I am entrusted with a letter for that lady, and wish to perform my commission properly."

"In that case hand me the letter, and I will deliver it myself."

"You found that out all by yourself," the engagé said mockingly, "a likely notion that I should give you the note on your demand," and he burst into a hearty laugh, in which Lepoletais joined.

"These Spaniards doubt nothing," the buccaneer said.

"In that case go to the deuce, you and your letter," the young man exclaimed passionately, "it does not make any difference to me if you keep it."

"Come, come, don't be savage, hang it all," L'Olonnais continued in a conciliatory tone; "there is possibly a means of arranging matters to the general satisfaction; I am not so black as I look, and I have good intentions, but I do not wish to be duped, that is all."

The young man, in spite of the visible repugnance with which the adventurers inspired him did not dare to break suddenly with them; the letter might be very important, and his sister, doubtless would not pardon him if he acted petulantly in this matter.

"Come," he said, "speak, but make haste; it is late – I am far from the hatto, where I wish to return before sunset, so as not to alarm my sister unnecessarily."

"That is the conduct of a good brother," the engagé answered with an ironical smile; "this is what I propose to you: tell the little lady in question that Montbart's engagé has orders to deliver a letter to her, and that if she wishes to have it, she need only come and fetch it."

"What! Fetch it, where?"

"Here; zounds! Lepoletais and I will set up a boucan at this spot; we will wait for the lady all tomorrow here: it seems to me that what I propose is simple and easy."

"And do you believe," he answered ironically, "that my sister will consent to accept such an appointment made by a wretched adventurer? why, you must be mad!"

"I do not believe anything, I make you a proposal, which you are free to accept or refuse, that is all: as for the letter, she shall only have it by coming to fetch it herself."

"Why not accompany me to the hatto, that would be more simple, I fancy?"

"It is possible, and that was my intention at first, but I have changed my mind; so settle what you will do."

"My sister respects herself too much to take such a step, I am certain beforehand that she will indignantly refuse."

"Well, you may be mistaken, my friend," the engagé said, with a knowing smile, "who ever knows what women think!"

"Well, to cut short an interview which has already lasted too long, I will inform her of what you have said to me; still, I do not conceal from you that I shall make every effort to prevent her coming."

"You can do as you please, it does not concern me; but be assured that if it be her wish to come, as I believe, your arguments will be of no use."

"We shall see."

"Mind not to forget to tell her that the letter is from Montbarts."

During this conversation, which possessed no interest for him, Lepoletais, with the characteristic coolness and carelessness of buccaneers, was engaged in cutting down branches, and planting stakes to make the ajoupa under which they would camp for the night.

"You see," the engagé added, "that my comrade has already set to work; so good-bye till tomorrow, as I have no time for further talk, I must help to prepare the boucan."

"Do as you please, but I am persuaded that you are wrong in reckoning on the success of the commission I have undertaken."

"Well, you will see; at any rate mention it to the Señora. Ah! By the way, one word more, mind, no treachery."

The young man did not condescend a reply: he shrugged his shoulders disdainfully, leaped on his horse, and galloped off in the direction of the hatto, closely followed by the Major-domo.

On getting some distance away, he looked back: the ajoupa was already finished, and, as L'Olonnais had said, the two buccaneers were busily engaged in establishing their boucan, without paying any more attention to the Spaniards, who were doubtless prowling about the neighbourhood, than if they had been five hundred leagues from any habitation.

Then he continued to advance thoughtfully in the direction of the hatto.

"Well, Excellency," the Major-domo said presently, "you have seen the ladrones, what do you think of them now?"

"They are rough men," he said, shaking his head sadly, "possessing brutal and indomitable natures, but relatively frank and honest, at least from their point of view."

"Yes, yes, you are right, Excellency; and thus they gain more ground every day, and if they were left alone, I am afraid that the whole island would soon belong to them."

"Oh, we have not reached that point yet," he said with a smile.

"Pardon me, Excellency, for asking you the question, but do you intend to inform the Señora of this meeting?"

"I should like not to do so; unfortunately, after what you had told me of the things that have taken place between my sister and these men, my silence might have very serious consequences for her. Hence it is better, I believe, to tell her frankly all about it, and she will be a better judge than I of the line of conduct she should pursue."

"I believe you are right, Excellency. The Señora has perhaps a great interest in knowing the contents of that letter."

"Well, let us trust in Heaven!"

It was an hour past nightfall when they reached the hatto.

They noticed with surprise an unusual movement round the house. Several fires lighted on the plain illumined the darkness. On approaching, the Count perceived that these fires were lit by soldiers, who had established their bivouac there.

A confidential servant was watching for the Count's arrival. So soon as he saw him, he handed him several letters that had arrived for him, and begged him to go at once to the Señora, who was impatiently expecting him.

"What is there new here?" he asked.

"Two fifties arrived at sunset, Excellency," the servant answered.

"Ah!" he remarked, with a slight frown. "Very good. Inform my sister that I shall be with her in an instant."

The domestic bowed and retired. The young gentleman dismounted, and went to the apartments of Doña Clara, considerably puzzled by the unforeseen arrival of these troops at a spot which apparently enjoyed great tranquillity, and where their presence was unnecessary.

CHAPTER XXIII

COMPLICATIONS

We must now return to one of our characters, who up to the present has played but a secondary part in this story; but, as frequently happens, is now called on by the exigencies of our narrative to take his place in the foreground.

We refer to Count Don Stenio de Bejar y Sousa, grandee of Spain of the first class, caballero cubierto, governor for His Majesty Philip II. of Spain and the Indies, of the island of Hispaniola, and husband of Doña Clara de Peñaflor.

Count Don Stenio de Bejar was a true Spaniard of the age of Charles V., dry, stiff, full of pride and self-sufficiency, always with his hand on his hip, and his head thrown back when he deigned to speak, which, happened to him as rarely as possible, not through any want of sense, as he was far from being a fool; but through indolence and contempt of other men, whom he never looked at without half closing his eyes, and raising the corners of his lips disdainfully.

Tall, well built, possessed of noble manners, and a very handsome face, the Count, apart from his determined silence, was one of the most accomplished cavaliers of the Spanish court, which, however, at that period, possessed a great number of them.