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Updated: September 22, 2025
"All safely aboard, Senor; asleep in their bunks by now, but ready. Francois LeVere has charge of the deck watch." "Ah! how happens it the quadroon is with you? A good choice, yet that must mean the Vengeance is still at Porto Grande. For what reason?" "Because of greater injuries than we supposed, Captain.
"Joe Gates, sir." "Gates another damned Englishman! How did you ever get aboard here?" It was the returning LeVere who made explanation before I could reply. "Manuel brought him on board last night. Picked him up drunk ashore." Estada's ugly eyes roved from face to face, as though he failed to fully comprehend. "Well, does he imagine he is going to be a passenger?
No doubt LeVere was also concerned in the conspiracy, and would profit by it, and possibly these two were likewise assured of the cooperation of the more reckless spirits among the crew. I remembered what Watkins had whispered to me forward his suspicions of them both. He had been right; already the fuse was being laid, and, very fortunately, I happened to be chosen to help touch it off.
A blanket ripped into strips served to bind him securely enough for the present, but I thought it best to lock the door, and keep the key in my own pocket. LeVere would have knifed him even as he lay there helpless, but for my threat and insistence. Once back in the cabin my eyes distinguished the frightened face of the steward peering forth at us from out the dark of the passage leading forward.
LeVere stood motionless at the poop rail, staring down, as though scarcely realizing what had transpired on board, and some way his very attitude and expression of face aroused within me a doubt of the man, a determination to put him to the test. Evidently he had held aloof and cautiously refrained from taking even the slightest part in our activities.
LeVere rather held back, not noticeably so, perhaps, yet enough to give me the lead, and, with one swift glance about, I led the way directly to Estada's stateroom. Something sinister had occurred during the dark hours of the night. Of that I was convinced, and I believed we were now about to lift the veil hiding the tragedy.
The crew are not all lambs many will sympathize with those thus locked beneath deck. Cochose is bad, and a friend of Manuel. He will fight, and there are others to back him." "I know that, LeVere. The whole plan is desperate, but there is no other possible. Here is my scheme. There is a gun rack in the cabin, containing enough weapons to arm the dozen men we can trust.
He disappeared through the companion, while Gunsaules vanished within the storeroom, where I could hear him rummaging noisily about. I sat down to wait the appearance of Watkins, satisfied that matters were already safely in my control. That the English sailor would cooperate, I had no doubt, and as to LeVere, he had already gone too far to openly play the traitor.
Why hasn't he been taught his place before this? It's about time, LeVere, for this drunken sailor to be given a lesson to last him for awhile; and, by God, if you won't do it, I will. Step over here, Gates." I took the necessary step forward, and faced him, expecting the rabid tongue lashing, which I rather felt I deserved. "Now, my man, do you know what this bark is?"
I watched LeVere, but he remained motionless, a mere shadow. "I suppose it must have been thet, sir," I confessed respectfully, "if things happened as you say they did. I haven't any memory o' tryin' ter slash nobody. Leastwise I seemed ter know whut I wus about when I cum up. I don't remember how I got ther; furst I knew I wus slushin' 'round in the water, a tryin' ter keep afloat.
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