Gustave Aimard
The Buccaneer Chief: A Romance of the Spanish Main

CHAPTER XV
THE SPY

Montbarts, as we said, walked into the house.

There were two persons in the first room, which was contrived a double debt to pay, as half sitting room, half kitchen.

These two persons were an engagé of Captain Drake and a stranger.

As for the Captain, he was absent at the moment.

The filibuster's eye flashed at the sight of the stranger, and an ill-omened smile curled his pale lips.

As for the latter, he was seated at a table in the middle of the room, and quietly breakfasting on a piece of cold bacon, washed down by a bottle of Bordeaux, – a wine, let us remark, parenthetically, which, though unknown in Paris till the reign of Louis XV., when the Duc de Richelieu brought it into fashion on his return from the government of Guyenne – had been for a long time appreciated in America.

The stranger was of rather tall stature, with a pale face, and ascetic features, thin, bony, and angular; but his noble manners indicated a high rank in society, which rank his simple and even more than modest costume tried in vain to conceal.

On the filibuster's entrance, the stranger, without raising his head, took a side-glance at him from under his long velvety eyelashes, and again became absorbed or appeared to be so, in the contemplation of the capital breakfast set before him.

Everything was in common among the filibusters, everyone took from the other, whether he was at home or not, anything he wanted, arms, gunpowder, clothes or food, and the person from whom it was taken had no right to protest or make the slightest observation; this was not merely admitted and tolerated, but was regarded as a right which all took advantage of without the slightest scruple.

Montbarts, after looking round the room, took a chair, seated himself unceremoniously opposite the stranger, and turning to the engagé, said —

"Bring me some breakfast – I am hungry."

The other, without venturing the slightest remark, immediately prepared to obey.

In a very short time he had served up an excellent breakfast for the filibuster, and then took his place behind his chair to wait on him.

"My friend," the filibuster said, carelessly, "I thank you; but when I take my meals I do not like to have anybody behind me. Leave the room, but remain in front of the house door;" and he added, with a singularly meaning glance, "let no one enter here without my orders: no one – you understand me?" he said, laying a stress on the words; "Not even your master, were he to come. Can I depend on you?"

"Yes, Montbarts," said the engagé, and left the room.

At the name of Montbarts, uttered by the servant, the stranger gave an almost imperceptible start, and fixed an anxious glance on the filibuster; but immediately recovering himself, he began eating again in the most perfect tranquillity, or at least apparently so.

For his part, Montbarts went on eating without troubling himself, or seeming to trouble himself, about the guest seated just opposite to him.

This performance went on for some minutes; no other sound was heard in the room, where such violent passions were smouldering, but that produced by the knives and forks scratching on the platters.

At length Montbarts raised his head and looked at the stranger.

"You are very taciturn, sir," he said to him, with the simple air of a man who is wearied at a lengthened silence, and wishes to get up a conversation.

"I, sir?" the stranger replied, as he looked up in his turn with the calmest air; "Not that I am aware of."

"Still, sir," the filibuster resumed, "I would remark, that during the quarter of an hour I have had the honour of passing in your company, you have not once addressed a syllable to me, not even in greeting."

"Pray excuse me, sir," the stranger said, with a slight bow; "the fault is entirely involuntary: besides, as I have not the advantage of knowing you – ?

"Are you quite sure of that, sir?" the adventurer interrupted, ironically.

"At least, I think so; hence, having nothing to say to you, I suppose that it would be useless to begin a conversation which would have no object."

"Who knows, sir?" the filibuster remarked, jeeringly; "Conversations the most frivolous at the outset, frequently become very interesting at the expiration of a few minutes."

"I doubt whether that would be the case with ours, sir. Permit me, therefore, to break it off at once. Besides, I have finished my meal," the stranger said, rising; "and some serious business claims my attention. Pray forgive me, therefore, for parting company so hurriedly, and believe in the sincerity of my regret."

The adventurer did not leave his seat, but throwing himself back in it with a graceful nonchalance, while playing with the knife he held in his hand, he said in his gentle insinuating voice —

"Pardon me, my dear sir; only one word, pray."

"In that case make haste, sir," the stranger replied, as he stopped, "for I am greatly pressed for time, I assure you."

"Oh! You will certainly grant me a few minutes," the adventurer remarked, with the old sarcasm.

"As you desire it so eagerly, I will not refuse it you, sir. But I really am in a hurry."

"I have no doubt on that point, sir; more especially hurried to leave this house – is it not so?"

"What do you mean, sir?" the stranger asked, haughtily.

"I mean," the adventurer replied, as he rose and placed himself between the stranger and the door, "that it is useless to feign any longer, and that you are recognized."

"I recognized? I do not understand you. What does this language mean?"

"It means," Montbarts said brutally, "that you are a spy and a traitor, and that you will be hanged within ten minutes."

"I?" the stranger replied, with very cleverly assumed surprise; "Why, you must be mad, sir, or suffering under a strange mistake. Let me pass, I request."

"I am not mad or mistaken, Señor Don Antonio de la Ronda."

The stranger started, a livid pallor covered his face, but he immediately recovered himself.

"Why, this is madness!" he said.

"Sir," Montbarts remarked, still calm, but remaining in front of the door, "when I affirm, you deny. It is evident that one of us lies, or is mistaken. Now I declare that it is not I, hence it must be you; and to remove your last doubts on this point, listen to this, but first be good enough to resume your seat. We shall have, however much it may annoy you, to converse for some time and I will remark, that it is a very bad taste to talk standing face to face like two gamecocks ready to fly at each other's combs, when it is possible to act otherwise."

Mastered, in spite of himself, by the adventurer's flashing glance obstinately fixed on him, and by his sharp, imperative accent, the stranger returned to his seat, and fell into it rather than sat down.

"Now, sir," the filibuster continued, in the same calm voice, as he reseated himself and placed his elbows on the table, "in order at once to dissipate all the doubts you may have, and to prove to you that I know more about you than you will doubtless like, let me tell you your history in a couple of words."

"Sir!" the stranger interrupted.

"Oh, fear nothing," he added, with studied sarcasm, "I shall be brief: I no more like than you do to waste my time in idle discourses; but just notice, by the bye, that, as I prophesied, our conversation, at first frivolous, has suddenly grown interesting. Is not this singular, I ask you?"

"I am awaiting your explanation, sir," the stranger replied, coolly; "for, up to the present, whatever you may say, I do not comprehend a word of all that it pleases you to say to me."

"By Heavens! You are a man after my heart. I was not mistaken about you. Brave, cold, and crafty, you are worthy to be a filibuster, and to lead an adventurous life with us."

"You do me a great honour, sir; but all this does not tell me – "

"Zounds! I am coming to it, sir – a little patience. How quick you are! Take care: in your profession a man must be cool before all else, and you are not so at this moment."

"You are very witty, sir," the stranger said, bowing ironically to his opponent.

The latter was offended by this sudden attack, and smote the table with his fist.

"Here is your history in two words, sir," he said. "You are an Andalusian, born at Malaga, a younger son, and consequently destined to take orders. One fine day, not feeling any liking for the tonsure, you fled from the paternal roof and embarked on a Spanish vessel bound for Hispaniola. Your name is Don Antonio de la Ronda. You see, sir, that up to this point I am well informed, am I not?"

"Pray go on, sir," the stranger replied, with perfect coolness; "your remarks are most interesting." Montbarts shrugged his shoulders, and went on.

"On arriving at Hispaniola, you contrived, in a short time, thanks to your good looks and polished manners, to secure powerful protectors; and thus, though you only left Europe three years ago, you have made such rapid progress, that you are at present one of the most influential men in the colony. Unluckily – "

"Do you say unluckily?" the stranger interrupted with a jeering smile.

"Yes, sir," the adventurer replied imperturbably; "unluckily your fortune turned your head so thoroughly – "

"So thoroughly?"

"That in defiance of your friends, you were arrested and threatened with a trial for embezzling a sum of nearly two million piastres; a noble amount, on which I compliment you. Any other man but you, sir, I feel a pleasure in allowing the fact, would have been ruined, or nearly so, as the case was very serious; and the Council of the Indies does not joke on money matters."

"Permit me to interrupt you, my dear sir," the stranger said with the most perfect ease; "you are telling this story in a very talented manner, but if you go on so, it threatens to last indefinitely. If you permit it, I will finish it in a few words."

"Ah! Ah! Then you allow its truth now?"

"Of course," the stranger said with admirable coolness.

"You acknowledge yourself to be Don Antonio de la Ronda?"

"Why should I deny it longer, when you are so well informed?"

"Better still; so that you confess to fraudulently entering the colony for the object of – "

"I confess anything you like," the Spaniard said quickly.

"Well, that being well established, you deserve to be hung, and you will be so in a few minutes."

"Well, no," he replied without losing any of his coolness; "that is where we differ essentially in opinion, sir, your conclusion is not in the least logical."

"What?" the adventurer exclaimed, surprised at this sudden change of humour which he did not expect.

"I said that your conclusion was not logical."

"I heard you perfectly."

"And I am going to prove it," he continued; "grant me in your turn a few moments' attention."

"Very good; we must be merciful to those who are about to die."

"You are very kind; but thank Heaven I am not there yet. There's many a slip between the cup and the lip, as a very sensible proverb says."

"Go on," the filibuster said with an ominous smile.

But the Spaniard was not affected.

"It is evident to me, sir, that you have some business or bargain to propose to me."

"I?"

"Certainly, and for this reason; having recognized me as a spy, for I must allow that I am really one (you see that I am frank in my confession), nothing was easier for you than to have me strung up to the nearest tree, without any form of trial."

"Yes, but I am going to do so."

"No, you will not do it now, and for this reason. You believe for reasons I am ignorant of, for I will not insult you by supposing that you had a feeling of pity for me, you who are so justly called by my countrymen the Exterminator – you believe, I say, that I can serve you, be useful to you in the success of one of your plans; consequently instead of having me hanged, as you would have done under any other circumstances, you came straight to find me here, where I fancied myself well hidden, in order to converse with me, like one friend with another. Well, I ask for nothing better, come, speak, I am listening; what do you want of me?"

And after uttering these words with the most easy air he could assume, Don Antonio threw himself back in his chair delicately rolling a cigarette between his fingers.

The filibuster gazed for a moment at the Spaniard with a surprise which he did not attempt to conceal, and then burst into a laugh.

"That will do," he said, "I prefer that; at least there will be no misunderstanding between us. Yes, you have guessed correctly, I have a proposal to make to you."

"That was not difficult to discover, sir; and pray what is the nature of the proposal?"

"Well, it is very simple, I only require you to act exactly in the opposite way to what you intended, to change sides, in short."

"Very good, I understand, that is to say, instead of betraying you for the advantage of Spain, I am to betray Spain for your profit."

"Yes, you see it is easy."

"Very easy, in fact, but decidedly shabby; and supposing that I consent to your request, what advantage shall I derive from it?"

"In the first place I need hardly say that you will not be hung."

"Pooh! To die by hanging, drowning, or a musket ball, is always much the same thing. I should desire a more distinct benefit, with your leave."

"Confound it, you are difficult to satisfy, then it is nothing to save one's neck from a slip knot?"

"My dear sir, when, as in my case, a man has nothing to lose and consequently everything to gain by any change in his position, death is rather a comfort than a calamity."

"You are a philosopher, so it seems."

"No, confound it! such absurdity never troubled me, I am merely a desperate man."

"That is often the same thing; but let us return to our matter."

"Yes, that will be better."

"Well! I offer you my whole share of the first ship I take; does that suit you?"

"That is something better; but unluckily the ship to which you refer is like the bear in the fable, not caught yet; I should prefer something more substantial."

"Well, I see I must yield to you; serve me well and I will reward you so generously that the King of Spain himself could not do more."

"Well, that is agreed, I'll run the risk; now be kind enough to tell me the nature of the service you expect from me?"

"I wish you to help me in taking by surprise Tortoise Island, where you lived for a long time, and where, if I do not err, you still have friends."

"I see no inconvenience in trying that, although I will begin by making my reservations."

"What are they?"

"That I do not pledge myself to insure the success of your hazardous undertaking."

"That remark is fair, but do not alarm yourself, if the Island is well defended, it shall be well attacked."

"I am convinced; now for the next matter."

"I will let you know it when the time arrives, señor; for the present, other business engages our attention."

"As you please, sir, you will be the best judge of the opportunity."

"Now, sir, as I had the honour of telling you at the outset, since I know you to be a very sharp hand, and very capable of slipping through my fingers like an eel, without the slightest scruple, and as I wish to avoid that eventuality, and save you any notion of the sort, you will do me the pleasure of going at once aboard my lugger."

"A prisoner!" the Spaniard said with a gesture of ill humour.

"Not as a prisoner, my dear Don Antonio, but regarded as a hostage, and treated as such, that is to say, with all the attention compatible with our common security."

"Still, the word of a gentleman – "

"Is valued between gentlemen, I allow, but with us Ladrones, as you call us, it has no value in my opinion; you hidalgos of old Spain, even make it a case of conscience to violate it without the slightest scruple, when your interest invites you to do so."

Don Antonio hung his head; recognizing in his heart, though unwilling to allow it, the exact truth, of the filibuster's words.

The latter enjoyed for a moment the Spaniard's discomfiture, and then rapped the table twice or thrice with the handle of his knife.

The captain's engagé at once entered the room.

"What do you want of me, Montbarts?" he asked.

"Tell me, my good fellow," the adventurer asked, "have you not seen a red Carib prowling round this house?"

"Pardon me, Montbarts, a Carib asked me only a moment ago, whether you were here, and I answered in the affirmative, but I did not like to transgress the orders I had received from you, and allow him to enter as he desired."

"Very good. Did not the man mention his name?"

"On the contrary, that was the very first thing he did; it is Omopoua."

"The very man I was expecting; tell him to come in, pray, for he is sure to be hanging about the door; and come with him."

The engagé went out.

"What do you want with this man?" the Spaniard asked with a shade of anxiety, which did not escape the adventurer's sharp eye.

"This Indian is simply intended to be your guard of honour," he said.

"Hum! It really seems as if you are anxious to keep me."

"Extremely so, señor."

At this moment, the engagé returned followed by the Carib, who had made no change in his primitive costume; but had taken advantage of Montbarts' permission to arm himself to the teeth.

"Omopoua and you, my friend, listen attentively to what I am going to say to you; you see this man?" he said pointing to the Spaniard who was still perfectly impassive.

"We see him," they answered.

"You will take him on board the lugger and hand him over to my mate, Michael the Basque, recommending him to watch over his guest most attentively! If, during the passage from here to the vessel, this man attempts to take to flight, blow out his brains without mercy. Have you understood me thoroughly?"

"Yes," said the engagé, "trust to us, we answer for him with our heads."

"That is well, I accept your word; and now, sir," he added, addressing Don Antonio, "be good enough to follow these two men."

"I yield to force, sir."

"Very good, that is how I regard the matter, but reassure yourself, your captivity will be neither harsh nor long, and I shall keep the promises I have made you, if you keep yours. Now, go and farewell for the present."

The Spaniard, without replying, placed himself between his two keepers voluntarily and left the room.

Montbarts remained alone.

CHAPTER XVI
THE SLAVE SALE

A moment after Montbarts rose, put on his cloak, which he had thrown on a chair when he came in, and prepared to quit the house.

On the threshold he found himself face to face with Captain Drake.

"Ah," said the latter, "here you are."

"Yes! I have been breakfasting at your house."

"You did well."

"Will you accompany me to the sale?"

"I do not want any hired man."

"Nor I, but you know the enlistment will commence immediately afterwards."

"That is true; let me say a word first to my engagé, and I will follow you."

"He has gone out."

"Why! I ordered him not to leave the house."

"I have given him a commission."

"Oh! That is different."

"You do not ask me what the commission is I have given your engagé," Montbarts remarked a moment later.

"Why should I? It does not concern me, I suppose."

"More than you imagine, brother."

"Nonsense, how so?"

"You offered hospitality to a stranger, did you not?"

"Yes, but what of that?"

"You shall see. This stranger, whom you do not know, for of course you do not – "

"No more than Adam; what do I care who he is? hospitality is one of those things which cannot be refused."

"That is true, but I recognized the man."

"Ah, ah, and who is he then?"

"Nothing less than a Spanish spy, brother."

"My God!" the captain said, stopping dead short.

"What is the matter with you now?"

"Nothing, nothing, except that I will go and blow out his brains, unless you have done so already."

"Pray, do nothing of the sort; this man, I feel convinced, brother, will prove very useful to us."

"Nonsense, how so?"

"Leave me to act; if we manage properly, we may draw profit even from a Spanish spy; in the meanwhile, I have had him taken on board the lugger by your engagé, and a man of my own, where he will be watched so that he cannot part company."

"I trust to you for that, and thank you, brother, for having freed me from the scoundrel."

While talking thus, the two men arrived at the spot where the sale of the engagés to the colonists was to take place.

On the right of the square was a spacious shed, built of clumsily planed planks, and open to the wind and rain; in the centre of the shed was a table for the officials and secretaries of the company, who had to manage the sale and draw up the contracts; an easy chair had been set apart for the governor, by the side of a rather lofty platform, on which each engagé, male or female, mounted in turn, so that the purchasers might examine them at their ease.

These wretches, deceived by the company's agents in Europe, had contracted engagements, whose consequences they did not at all understand, and were convinced that, on their arrival in America, with the exception of a certain tax they had to pay the company for a certain period, they would be completely free to earn their livelihood as they thought proper. The majority were carpenters, masons and bricklayers, but there were also among them ruined gentlemen and libertines who detest work and who imagined that in America, the country of gold, fortune would visit them while they slept.

A company's ship had arrived a few days previously and brought one hundred and fifty engagés, among them were several young and pretty women, thoroughly vitiated, however, and who, like the Manon Lescault of the Abbé Prevost, had been picked up by the police in the streets of Paris, and shipped off without further formality.

These women were also sold to the colonists, not apparently as slaves, but as wives.

These unions contracted in the gipsy fashion, were only intended to last a settled time which must not exceed seven years, unless with the mutual consent of the couple, though the clause was hardly ever appealed to by them; at the end of that time they separated, and each was set at liberty to form a fresh union.

The engagés had been landed two days before; these two days had been granted them, that they might slightly recover from the fatigue of a long sea voyage, walk about and breathe the reviving land breeze, of which they had so long been deprived.

At the moment when the two adventurers arrived, the sale had been going on for half an hour; the shed was crowded with colonists who desired to purchase slaves, for we are compelled to use that odious term, for the poor creatures were nothing else.

At the sight of Montbarts, however, whose name was justly celebrated, a passage was opened, and he thus succeeded in reaching the side of the governor, Chevalier de Fontenay, round whom the most renowned adventurers were collected, among them being Michael the Basque.

Monsieur de Fontenay received Montbarts with distinction; he even rose from his chair and walked two or three steps to meet him, which the filibusters considered in very good taste, and felt grateful to him for it; this honour paid to the most celebrated among them cast a reflection on them all.

After exchanging a few compliments with the governor, Montbarts bent down to Michael's ear.

"Well, mate?" he said to him.

"The Spaniard is aboard," Michael replied, "and carefully watched by Bowline."

"In that case I can be at my ease?"

"Perfectly."

During this aside, the sale had been going on.

All the male engagés had been sold, with the exception of one who was standing at this moment on the platform, by the side of a company's agent, who acted as auctioneer, and praised the qualities of the human merchandise he offered.

This engagé was a short, stout, powerfully built man, from twenty-five to twenty-six years of age, with harsh, energetic, but intelligent features, whose grey eyes sparkled with audacity and good humour.

"Pierre Nau, native of the sands of Olonne," said the company's agent, "twenty-five years of age, powerful and in good health, a sailor. Who'll say forty crowns for the Olonnais, forty crowns for three years, gentlemen."

"Come, come," said the engagé, "if the person who buys me is a man, he will have a good bargain."

"Going for forty crowns," the company's agent repeated, "forty crowns, gentlemen."

Montbarts turned to the engagé.

"What, you scoundrel," he said to him, "you a sailor and sell yourself instead of joining us? You have no pluck."

The Olonnais began laughing.

"You know nothing about it. I have sold myself, because I must do so," he answered, "so that my mother may be able to live during my absence."

"How so?"

"How does it concern you? You are not my master, and even if you were, you would have no right to inquire into my private affairs."

"You seem to me a bold fellow," Montbarts remarked.

"Indeed, I believe I am; besides, I wish to become an adventurer like you fellows, and for that purpose I must serve my apprenticeship to the trade."

"Going for forty crowns," cried the agent.

Montbarts examined with the most serious attention the engagé, whose firm glance he could hardly manage to quell; then, doubtless satisfied with his triumph, he turned to the agent.

"That will do," he said, "hold your row: I buy this man."

"The Olonnais is adjudged to Montbarts the exterminator, for forty crowns," the agent said.

"Here they are," the adventurer answered as he threw a handful of silver on the table; "now come," he ordered the Olonnais, "you are now my engagé."

The latter leapt joyously off the platform and ran up to him.

"So you are Montbarts the exterminator?" he asked him curiously.

"I think you are questioning me," the adventurer said with a laugh, "still, as your question appears to me very natural, I will answer it this time; yes, I am Montbarts."

"In that case I thank you for buying me, Montbarts; with you I am certain soon to become a man."

And at a sign from his new master, he respectfully placed himself behind him.

The most curious part of the sale for the adventurers then began, that is to say, the sale of the women.

The poor wretches, mostly young and pretty, mounted the platform trembling, and in spite of their efforts to keep a good countenance, they blushed with shame, and burning tears ran down their cheeks on seeing themselves thus exposed before all these men, whose flashing eyes were fixed upon them.

The company made its greatest profit by the women, and it was the more easy to realise, because they were got for nothing, and sold at the highest possible figure.

The men were generally knocked down at a price varying from thirty to forty dollars, but never went beyond that; with the women it was different, they were put up to auction, and the governor alone had the right to stop the sale, when the price appeared to him sufficiently high. These women were always sold amid cries, shouts and coarse jests, generally addressed to the adventurers who did not fear running the risk of venturing on the shoal-beset ocean of marriage.

Belle Tête, that furious adventurer to whom we have already referred, and whom we saw at the meeting at the hatto, had, as he had resolved, purchased two engagés to take the place of the two who had died, so he said, of indolence, but, in reality of the blows he dealt them; then, instead of returning home he had confided the engagés to his overseer; for the adventurers, like the slave owners, had overseers, whose duty it was to make the white slaves toil; and the adventurer remained in the shed watching the sale of the women with the most lively interest.

His friends did not fail to cut jokes at his expense, but he contented himself with shrugging his shoulders disdainfully, and stood with his hands crossed on the muzzle of his long fusil, and with his eyes obstinately fixed on the platform.

A young woman had just taken her place there in her turn; she was a frail delicate girl, with light curling hair that fell on her white rather thin chest. Her smooth and pensive forehead, her large blue eyes full of tears, her fresh cheeks, her little mouth, made her appear much younger than she in reality was; she was eighteen years of age, and her delicate waist, her well-turned lips, her decent appearance, in short everything about her delicious person had a seductive charm, which formed a complete contrast with the decided air and vulgar manners of the women who had preceded her on the platform, and those who would follow her.

"Louise, born at Montmartre, aged eighteen years; who will marry her for three years, at the price of fifteen crowns?" the company's agent asked in his sarcastic voice.

The poor girl buried her face in her hands and wept bitterly.

"Twenty crowns for Louise," an adventurer shouted, drawing nearer.

"Twenty-five," another said immediately.

"Make her hold her head up so that we can have a look at her," a third cried brutally.

"Come, little one," the agent said, as he obliged her to remove her hands from her face; "be polite and let them look at you, it is for your own good, hang it all! Twenty-five crowns."

"Fifty," said Belle Tête, without moving from the spot.

All eyes were turned to him; up to this moment Belle Tête had professed a profound hatred for marriage.

"Sixty," shouted an adventurer who did not desire to buy the girl, but wished to annoy his comrade.

"Seventy," said another with the same charitable intention.

"One hundred," Belle Tête shouted angrily.

"One hundred crowns, gentlemen, one hundred for Louise for three years," the stoical agent said.

"One hundred and fifty."

"Two hundred."

"Two hundred and fifty."

"Three hundred," several adventurers shouted, almost simultaneously, as they drew nearer to the platform.

Belle Tête was pale with rage, for he feared lest she might escape him.

The adventurer had persuaded himself, rightly or wrongly, that he wanted a wife to manage his household; now he had seen Louise, Louise pleased him, she was for sale, and he resolved to buy her.

"Four hundred crowns!" he said with an air of defiance.

"Four hundred crowns," the company's agent repeated in his monotonous voice.

There was a silence.

Four hundred crowns is a large sum; Belle Tête triumphed.