Part 30 (2/2)

I was thereupon taken to a cabin, where I was supplied with dry clothes, after which the captain came and spoke to me. Evidently, he was desirous of my becoming one of his allies, for without hesitation he told me the history of his life and his reasons for leading such a life.

I will not repeat his story at length. I do not wish to recall in detail the terrible things he related. True to his Spanish nature, he hated intensely and loved intensely. When quite a boy he had loved, and his love had been returned. There were months of happiness, then a rich n.o.bleman appeared, and, fascinated by the beauty of his betrothed sought to win her from him. Defeated in this, he used force. Then followed a succession of plots and cunning intrigue, and, finally, through the avarice and greed of his love's father, through social influence, and through devilry of the worst kind, he, the pirate captain, was robbed of the one for whom he would have died, while she became disgraced and ruined. Then his pa.s.sion burned to white heat, and revenge was his one object. He did not rest until he had killed his rival, after which he was obliged to fly. Others who had been engaged with him in the fray left with him, and formed themselves into a band, which gradually grew until they became what they were.

I shall never forget the terrible intensity with which he told his story; how at one time his eyeb.a.l.l.s were red as fire, and at another his hands trembled with pa.s.sion; and again, when he told of the beauty of his betrothed, how his voice became gentle, and his eye became moist. In spite of everything I could not help sympathising with him, and, afterwards, when he spoke of his buccaneering career and remembered what led him to it I did not wonder.

Need I tell how, little by little, I fell in with the captain's proposals and vowed allegiance to him? I can scarcely realise what happened now; it seems but as a half-forgotten dream; though real enough then. In those days my better nature was dead, or nearly so. I had allowed one pa.s.sion to conquer me, and it had poisoned my whole being. I had learnt the meaning of the words of Scripture: ”For whosoever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.” This is more than mere words; it is a principle of life. One pa.s.sion corrupts the whole being, degrades the whole man, and thus I, because I entertained hate for my brother, lost my finer nature and joined a crew of pirates.

I will not portray the life we led; how by sheer brute force and will power I fought my way up until I was next in power to the captain himself. I could fill a volume in narrating the battles we fought and the hair-breadth escapes we had, but whoever reads these lines must imagine for themselves how we dreaded being taken, and how we vowed a terrible vow to die the most awful death rather than be conquered by any vessel, of whatever nationality. Truly it was a wild life, full of danger and peril; and yet I was happier in it than I had been for years. There was freedom on the wide seas, there were interest and excitement in our constant frays. The life suited my uncouth, rugged nature, and thus for two years I almost forgot my past and lived only in the excitement of the present.

I had been ten years away from home, ten years without ever catching sight of the British sh.o.r.es. Eight years I had served on trading vessels of various nationalities, and two years I had been a pirate, when another change came.

I was sitting one evening alone, watching the setting sun, when I began to think of my old life. I remembered all the legends of our house and name as vividly as if I had been hearing them during the last ten years. I thought of my father's warning that I should never leave the Trewinion estate for six months at a time; if I did the race for three generations would be cursed, while I should be haunted by dark spirits on my deathbed. I remembered how he told me that if a Trewinion did what was unlawful he brought down the vengeance of Heaven. And I had been away ten years; I had become a pirate and was ever under a sentence of death. I thought again of old Deborah Teague's warning, of the cave full of evil women, and wondered. Then memories of Ruth came back to me, and I saw her at Trewinion Manor as Wilfred's wife. I wondered if I should ever see them all again--wondered, and then tried to forget. I became oblivious of the beauty of the setting sun and of my surroundings. The s.h.i.+p on which I sailed might be a s.h.i.+p of the fancy for all I knew, for all I knew the crew might be spirits or men.

I was back again in my old home, and when at length I was aroused from my reverie I could not get rid of the impression that I was wanted, needed amongst the scenes of my childhood.

Presently the captain came near and laid his hand on my shoulder.

”Tretheway, I am getting tired of this roving life,” he said.

”So am I,” was my reply.

”I have been thinking,” he went on, ”if there may not be happiness and peace for me even yet. I have been wondering if I may not return to the land of my birth, and maybe find someone whom I can love and who can love me.”

I looked up into his face. There was a soft expression in his eyes, and his lip was tremulous.

”Perhaps the way may open up soon,” I said.

”It shall,” he replied, sternly, and walked away.

Soon after this I turned in. I did not expect to sleep, but no sooner had my head been placed on the pillow than I fell asleep and dreamed.

I saw the old home again as plainly as if I were there, and recognised several of the servants. Katherine and Elizabeth I could not see, but my mother was there, and Wilfred. In my dream I wandered from room to room. I felt sure that Ruth was in the house, but I could not find her. At length I entered the library. I thought I could see everything, and yet I was unseen. It appeared to me that while my spirit was there my body was elsewhere. All my thinking powers were supernaturally awake, but my body was asleep.

The room was in darkness, or nearly so, and I thought no one was there until I heard a sigh, and then I saw Ruth. She moved in her chair as if weary. A servant entered bearing a light, and then I saw her face.

It was wonderfully changed. It was not that she looked older, but that she was so weary and wan. The old joyous light was gone from her eyes, and she was very thin and fragile.

”Ah!” I thought, ”the marriage has not been happy. Perhaps Wilfred has not been kind to her; perhaps she has children, and they are sickly.”

I looked at her hand, but could see no wedding ring. Then I heard a noise outside and a whispering, and I saw that her face had a look of terror upon it, as though she dreaded some great calamity.

The door opened, and in walked my mother and Wilfred.

I looked at both their faces and watched their expression. Hers looked somewhat haggard and hard; while his was cunning and yet fascinating.

They sat down beside her, and mother asked her why she looked so troubled and wan; but she was silent. Then Wilfred spoke to her.

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