There was a chinking squelch twice repeated, as of moneybags that are raised and set down again. «It is in rolls of twenty double moidores. Will you count them?»
There followed a mumbling pause, and at the end of it came the Colonel's voice again. «If you will sign this quittance, the matter is at an end.»
«Quittance?»
«I'll read it to you.» And the Colonel read: «I acknowledge, and give Colonel Jerome de Coulevain this quittance for the sum of five thousand pieces of eight, received from him in consideration of my forbearing from any action against Captain Blood, and of my undertaking no action whatever hereafter for as long as he may remain the guest of Colonel de Coulevain on the Island of Mariegalante or elsewhere. Given under my hand and seal this tenth day of July of 1688.»
As the Colonel's voice trailed off there came an explosion from Macartney.
«God's death, Colonel! Are you mad, or do you think that I am?»
«What do you find amiss? Is it not a correct statement?»
Macartney banged the table in his vehemence. «It puts a rope round my neck.»
«Only if you play me false. What other guarantee have I that when you've taken these five thousand pieces you will keep faith with me?»
«You have my word,» said Macartney in a passion. «And my word must content you.»
«Your word! Your word!» The Frenchman's sneer was unmistakable. «Ah, that, no. Your word is not enough.»
«You want to insult me!»
«Pish! Let us be practical, Major. Ask yourself: Would you accept the word of a man in a transaction in which his own part is dishonest?»
«Dishonest, sir? What the devil do you mean?»
«Are you not accepting a bribe to be false to your duty? Is not that dishonesty?»
«By god! This comes well from you, considering your intentions.»
«You make it necessary. Besides, have I played the hypocrite as to my part? I have been unnecessarily frank, even to appearing a rogue. But, as in your own case, Major, necessity knows no law with me.»
A pause followed upon those conciliatory words. Then: «Nevertheless,» said Macartney, «I do not sign that paper.»
«You'll sign and seal it, or I do not pay the money. What do you fear, Major? I give you my word —»
«Your word! Hell and the devil! In what is your word better than mine?»
«The circumstances make it better. On my side there can be no temptation to break faith, as on yours. It cannot profit me.»
It was clear by now to Blood that since Macartney had not struck the Frenchman for his insults, he would end by signing. Only a desperate need of money could so have curbed the Englishman. He therefore heard with surprise Macartney's angry outburst.
«Give me the pen. Let us have done.»
Another pause followed, then the Colonel's voice: «And now seal it here, where I have set the wax. The signet on your finger will serve.»
Captain Blood waited for no more. The long windows stood open to the garden over which the dusk was rapidly descending. He stepped noiselessly out and vanished amid the shrubs. About the stem of a tall silk–cotton tree he found a tough slender liana swarming like a snake. He brought out his knife, slashed it near the root, and drew it down.
As Captain Macartney, softly humming to himself, a heavy leathern bag in the crook of each arm, came presently down the avenue between the palms where the evening shadows were deepest, he tripped over what he conceived to be a rope stretched taut across the path, and spread–eagled forward with a crash.
Lying momentarily half–stunned by the heavy fall, a weight descended on his back, and in his ear a pleasant voice was murmuring in English, with a strong Irish accent: «I have no buccaneers, Major, no ship, no demi–cannon, and, as you remarked, not even a sword. But I still have my hands and my wits, and they should more than suffice to deal with a paltry rogue like you.»
«By God!» swore Macartney, though half–choked. «You shall hang for this, Captain Blood! By God, you shall!» Frenziedly he struggled to elude the grip of his assailant. His sword being useless in his present position, he sought to reach the pocket in which he carried a pistol, but, by the movement, merely betrayed its presence. Captain Blood possessed himself of it.
«Will you be quiet now?» he asked. «Or must I be blowing out your brains?»
«You dirty Judas! You thieving pirate! Is this how you keep faith?»
«I pledged you no faith, you nasty rogue. Your bargain was with the French colonel, not with me. It was he who bribed you to be false to your duty. I had no part in it.»
«Had you not? You lying dog! You're a pretty pair of scoundrels, on my soul! Working in con–conjunction.»
«Now that,» said Blood, «is needlessly and foolishly offensive.»
Macartney broke into fresh expletives.
«You talk too much,» said Captain Blood, and tapped him twice over the head with the butt of the pistol, using great science. The Major sank forward gently, like a man asleep.
Captain Blood rose, and peered about him through the dusk. All was still. He went to pick up the leather bags which Macartney had dropped as he fell. He made a sling for them with his scarf, and so hung them from his neck. Then he raised the unconscious Major, swung him skilfully to his shoulder, and, thus burdened, went staggering down the avenue and out into the open.
The night was hot and Macartney was heavy. The sweat ran from Blood's pores. But he went steadily ahead until he reached the low wall of the churchyard, just as the moon was beginning to rise. On to the summit of this wall he eased himself of his burden, toppled it over into the churchyard, and then climbed after it. What he had to do there was quickly done by the light of the moon under the shelter of that wall. With the man's own sash he trussed him up at wrists and ankles. Then he stuffed some of the Major's periwig into his mouth, using the fellow's neckcloth to hold this unpleasant gag in position and taking care to leave his nostrils free.
As he was concluding the operation, Macartney opened his eyes and glared at him.
«Sure now it's only me: your old friend, Captain Blood. I'm just after making you comfortable for the night. When they find you in the morning, ye can tell them any convenient lie that will save you the trouble of explaining what can't be explained at all. It's a very good night I'll be wishing you, Maj or darling.»
He went over the wall and briskly down the road that led to the sea.
On the mole lounged the British sailors who manned the longboat from the Royal Duchess, awaiting the Major's return. Further on, some men of Mariegalante were landing their haul from a fishing–boat that had just come in. None gave heed to Blood as he stepped along to the mole's end where that morning he had moored the pinnace. In the locker, where he stowed the heavy bags of gold, there was still some of the food that he had brought away last night from the Estremadura. He could not take the risk of adding to it. But he filled the two small water–casks at the fountain.
Then he stepped aboard, cast off and got out the sweeps. Another night on the open sea lay ahead of him. The wind, however, was still in the same quarter as last night and would favour the run to Guadeloupe upon which he had determined.
Once out of the bay he hoisted sail, and ran northward along the coast and the shallow cliffs which cast an inky shadow against the moon's white radiance. On he crawled through a sea of rippling quicksilver until he reached the island's end; then he headed straight across the ten miles of intervening water.
Off Grand Terre, the eastern of the two main islands of Guadeloupe, he lay awaiting sunrise. When it came, bringing a freshening of the wind, he ran close past Saint Anne, which was empty of shipping, and, hugging the coast, sailed on in a north–easterly direction until he came, some two hours later, to Port du Moule.