Part 34 (2/2)
His sword darted by the other's guard, and when it came away it's point was red with blood. A deep and dripping gash in the captain's left cheek showed where it had pa.s.sed. The two sailors sitting on the log exchanged looks once more, but there was no sign of a chuckle.
”That's for being a slaver, captain,” said Robert. ”It's a bad occupation, and you ought to quit it. But your wound will leave a scar, and you will not like to say that it was made by one whom you kidnapped, and undertook to carry away to his death.”
The captain in a long career of crime and cruelty had met with but few checks, and to experience one now from the hands of a lad was bitter beyond endurance. The sting was all the greater because of his knowledge that the two sailors who still exchanged looks but no chuckles, were witnesses of it. The blood falling from his left cheek stained his left shoulder and he was a gruesome sight. He rushed in again, mad with anger.
”Worse and worse, captain,” said his young opponent. ”You're not showing a single quality of a swordsman. You've nothing but strength. I bade you have a care! Now your right cheek is a match for your left!”
The captain uttered a cry, drawn as much by anger as by pain. The deep point of his opponent's sword had pa.s.sed across his right cheek and the red drops fell on both shoulders. The two sailors looked at each other in dismay. The man paused for breath and he was a ghastly sight.
”I told you more than once to beware, captain,” said Robert, ”but you would not heed me. Your temper has been spoiled by success, but in time nearly every slaver meets his punishment. I'm grateful that it's been permitted to me to inflict upon you a little of all that's owing to you. Wounds in the face are very painful and they leave scars, as you'll learn.”
He had already decided upon his finis.h.i.+ng stroke, and his taunts were meant to push the captain into further reckless action. They were wholly successful as the man sprang forward, and slashed almost at random. Now, Robert, light of foot and agile, danced before him like a fencing master. The captain cut and thrust at the flitting form but always it danced away, and the heavy slashes of his cutla.s.s cut the empty air, his dripping wounds and his vain anger making him weaker and weaker. But he would not stop. Losing all control of his temper he rushed continually at his opponent.
The two sailors looked once more at each other, half rose to their feet, but sat down again, and were silent.
Now the captain saw a flash of light before him, and he felt a darting pain across his brow, as the keen point of the sword pa.s.sed there. The blood ran down into his eyes, blinding him for the time. He could not see the figure before him, but he knew that it was tense and waiting. He groped with his cutla.s.s, but touching only thin air he threw it away, and clapped his hands to his eyes to keep away the trickling blood.
”You'll have three scars, captain,” came the maddening voice, ”one on each cheek and one on the forehead. It's not enough punishment for a slaver, but, in truth, it's something. And now I'm going. You can't see to follow me, or even to take care of yourself but I leave you in the hands of your two sailors.”
Robert put on his coat and greatcoat, resumed all his weapons and his pack and turned away. The sailors were still sitting on the log, gazing at each other in amazement and awe. Neither had spoken throughout the duel, nor did they speak now. The victor did not look back, but walked swiftly toward the north, glad that he had been the instrument in the hands of fate to give to the slaver at least a part of the punishment due him.
He kept steadily on several hours, until he saw a smoke on the western sky, when he changed his course and came in another half hour to a small log house, from which the smoke arose. A man standing on the wooden step looked at him with all the curiosity to which he had a right.
”Friend,” said Robert, ”how far is it to New York?”
”About ten miles.”
”And this is not the coast of Acadia.”
”Acadia! What country is that? I never heard of it.”
”It exists, but never mind. And New York is so near? Tell me that distance again. I like to hear it.”
”Ten miles, stranger. When you reach the top of the hill there you can see the houses of Paulus Hook.”
Robert felt a great sense of elation, and then of thankfulness. While fortune had been cruel in putting him into the hands of the slaver, it had relented and had taken him out of them, when the chance of escape seemed none.
”Stranger,” said the man, ”you look grateful about something.”
”I am. I have cause to be grateful. I'm grateful that I have my life, I'm grateful that I have no wounds and I'm grateful that from the top of the hill there I shall be able to see the houses of Paulus Hook. And I say also that yours is the kindliest and most welcome face I've looked upon in many a day. Farewell.”
”Farewell,” said the man, staring after him.
Two hours later Robert was being rowed across the Hudson by a stalwart waterman. As he pa.s.sed by the spot where his boat had been cut down by the schooner he took off his hat.
”Why do you do that?” asked the waterman.
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