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Updated: June 23, 2025
"On the way a storm rose, the ship sprung a leak, and the captain ordered all useless ballast to be thrown overboard. There was nothing left except the sick and the silver, and the question was which should be cast into the sea?" "Well, and you, as the doctor, of course kept the sick," said Skyrme. "No indeed, I kept the silver, and now Captain Rolls wants to punish me for it."
You are acting against all the customs of pirates and, if you don't take back your order, I'll scuttle the ship myself." "Do you think so?" said Barthelemy. "Skyrme! Seize this fellow and bind him to the mainmast." The pirates shrank back, startled. Moody was the oldest of the band, whom no captain had ever ventured to punish.
Skyrme laid his huge hand on his shoulder and muttered between his teeth: "You scoundrel, you'll make a first-class devil." "At least as good as any of you."
"The boat!" suddenly shouted the man at the helm, and all left the old pirate and his stories to watch the approaching yawl, which they hailed with cheers, waving their caps aloft, while the returning men sat silent, as if they found the meeting less joyful than their comrades. Skyrme was the captain of the boat.
He himself chose his men, among them Skyrme, Scudamore, the mate Henry Glasby, Asphlant, Moody, and Simpson, and felt so sure of capturing the brigantine before morning that, contrary to his custom, he did not see that the sloop was provided with a sufficient supply of provisions.
Then a gigantic figure stood erect, spite of the terrible tossing of the waves, and, raising a speaking trumpet to his lips, shouted in deep, ringing tones, "Captain Trahern, Robert Barthelemy hereby summons you to surrender at discretion the King Solomon and her crew." The speaker was Skyrme.
The judgment lies with the English courts." "Oh, we won't go so far," said Skyrme with a look of amusement; "make the charge; we'll represent the court of justice. Barthelemy will be judge, we the sheriffs and constables. Bring forward the complaint, the court is open." Rolls coldly averted his eyes without answering a syllable.
The former then triumphantly resumed his seat among the pirates, and by singing several songs aloud, roused their enthusiasm to such a pitch that Skyrme, starting up, vowed by a sea of wine to drink the Bristol captain's health in a glass which no man had ever used.
"Yes," returned the other mournfully, "but if you release the captain, and me with him, what is to become of me?" "I don't know," returned the corsair-chief, shrugging his shoulders. Skyrme laughed aloud. "That's a splendid joke!" "For heaven's sake! What shall I say to you?" stammered Scudamore, throwing himself at Barthelemy's feet.
A roar of mingled fury and despair greeted these words; the cheated pirates, with knives uplifted, vowed to inflict a thousand tortures on the traitors. Barthelemy was deadly pale. "We will meet them," he said hoarsely. "There is not a moment to lose. Forward my lads." "Where?" asked Skyrme despairingly. "To sea!" answered Barthelemy proudly, pointing to the offing.
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