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Updated: May 16, 2025
"Pascherette!" echoed Tomlin, bewildered. "Does Jamaica hold such beauties?" He awkwardly brought forward a deck-chair, while Pearse stood by in speechless amazement. Venner, as better became the host, ordered a steward to bring a wrap for the astounding visitor, but the girl laughed provokingly and declined both.
Hanglip himself seemed irresolute in the face of the maid's denial; he stood with cutlas raised, not yet sure whether to attack or first see to the treasure story. The decision was made for him; for the pirate bringing the news, seized Pascherette in a fierce grip, and with knife at her breast shouted: "This little snake told me the loot was going, lads! Get the job over, as I do this!"
And as the mob thinned, and Dolores entered the cool glade, something in the situation which she had failed to realize before now struck her with force; she started at the thought, then uttered a low, rippling laugh of satisfaction. For Pascherette, in her cunning scheme of double-dealing, had played into her lady's hands to an extent unhoped for by Dolores.
With shrewd artistry she twisted away as he strove to clasp her, and there she left him standing, in the midst of untold treasures that every moment were increasingly revealed to him. Without another glance for him, or apparently another thought, she took Pascherette by the hand and led her down the chamber to the great chair.
She shook her small head saucily, and heavy masses of raven-wing hair tumbled about her, provokingly cloaking the charms so boldly outlined by her single saturated tunic of fine silk. "Who in paradise may you be?" ejaculated Venner, while his friends stared with unconscious rudeness. "I? I am Pascherette!" laughed the small vision, and her black eyes sparkled impudently.
A pirate's lass is a well-lov'd lass, And there's gold through the red a gleaming! "Ho! for a cask in the fire's red glow; Ho! for the heaps of plunder. There are showers of pearls for the pirates' girls The rain from the corsair's thunder!" At the end of her song Pascherette halted, listened, then called softly: "Sancho! Thy Pascherette calls!"
What wert telling the villain, Sancho?" Pascherette whined and cringed; she could not, or would not speak. The whip quivered, was about to fall on those dainty bare shoulders, when Milo, uttering a choking cry, flung himself forward and took the blow on his face.
The swift conquest had taken but minutes; none but a few women of the camp had seen it; and they, well used to such scenes, simply chattered and smiled pityingly, not with pity for the men, but for the futility of their resistance. Milo, scarcely breathing above normal, called loudly: "Pascherette!" and gave his prisoners another quieting squeeze. Pascherette was with her mistress.
Presently they stopped, and Dolores stood up alertly. There was but a moment's delay, while Pascherette bound her hair more securely; then, with a flirting hand-wave, the little octoroon darted from Milo, wriggled through the bushes, and ran lightly down to the sea.
Have done with this talk. I hate thee for it!" "Love and hate!" she laughed metallically. "Loving me, still thou hast room to love another better. Hate and love! Thou great fool, it cannot be!" "Pascherette, I love thee. Thou'rt entangled in my heart-strings. When I hate thee, it is because of that love, which will not brook treason in thee.
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