'Oh, la, la, but where is my daughter?' asked madame.
'Oh, she's busy. She's in a cabin with the skipper of this pirate craft,' and, bluntly, he told her the story of the bed. 'The man is really a duke of England, madame,' he concluded with.
'Ah, well,' said Madame Rade placidly, 'we shall see, come and chat with me, here in the shadow.'
She sat down on a cushioned deck seat, and Charlie was about to sit by her side but she stopped him. 'No, stand in front of me.'
He did and at once felt her fingers at his fly.
'No one can see,' she whispered as she undid the buttons.
Charlie's prick was rigid as it came out and he welcomed the touch of her tongue, and the subsequent drawing of his cock into her mouth.
He thought of Toinette below, and as he spent into the mother's mouth he was in his mind coming in her daughter's cunt.
Madame Rade rose lazily: 'Ah, but zis is the beautiful life,' she murmured. 'No restraints, one loves as one likes. I can imagine this beautiful island we come to: it will be heaven.'
Meanwhile the poet gazing over the endless water hummed quietly to himself:
'The sperm of man, the sperm of man,
Ambrosial fluid of the gods,
And yet I waste it like Onan,
And lots of other silly sods.'
He was tossing himself off over the taffrail. He had become a confirmed Onanist ever since his exploit from the turret window at Rosedale. He argued that his beautiful dream fancies with which the action was embroidered were better far than personal fleshy contact with beautiful women or even pretty young men.
And Tubby had found his affinity-and this is the last fuck in the book.
She was one of the native girls whom the young man had brought, a jolly, laughing, very pretty girl. Tubby was drunk, very randily and genially drunk, and as he met her, quite naked, outside a cabin door, he remembered that in the course of his misspent youth he had never had a coloured woman before, and he coveted her.
He drew her into the cabin and locked the door. The preliminary kisses were not long before their hands were fingering each other's parts, but Tubby's cock was not quite stiff enough. She twisted over and sucked him, then pushed him on to his back and straddled him. There was no question about stiffness now and Tubby was robustly fucked, the girl humming a little native air as her cunt gripped his penis. Its rhythm bore a strange resemblance to the Eton boating song, and Tubby found himself murmuring, 'Swing, swing together, and fuck like the best of pals.'
The two had hardly regained the dancing-room when a loud shouting was heard on deck. All hurried up to find that one of the New Decameron boats had just rescued a deplorable wreck of a shipwrecked sailor who had hailed them from a little, frail raft. He was understood to be babbling in a semi-French patois that he had something of great importance to say. The young man had him wrapped up and given hot grog and food.
The inhabitants of Fleur de la Chair had thronged to the quay. A laughing, chattering, excited crowd of both races discussed the probabilities of what this prize might be.
A boat put off to the opening of the harbour. Then from the little fort the guns roared a salute as the bow of the New Decameron came into view. A few hundreds yards behind came me Lesbia, her graceful lines exciting unrestrained praise. Born anchored within two hundred yards of the quay and were at once surrounded by little craft.
It was with mixed feelings that Lady Tittle greeted the astonished Charlie, and Tubby and old General Fitzhugh, all of whom she had known well at home. Her head seemed to swim; would wonders never cease in this enchanted isle? And it was with mixed feelings that she saw Toinette being lifted from the launch by the young man. Hony had just got to be that duchess.
The newcomers were overjoyed at their beautiful new home. What luck, what sheer, utter, unbelievable luck had led them to strike that delightful pirate ship, thought Maudie, instead of a possible capture, an ignominious conveyance home, disgrace and imprisonment.
The ladies were quartered between the young man and Naroina, and John Tucker took the men to his palatial summer residence.
'What, what a bit of luck for me,' soliloquised Charlie, as a deft-handed manservant showed him into a delightful bedroom and proceeded to lay out his clothes. 'What a godsend that I got drunk that night and ran against Maudie. Broke to the world in London, and now I've run into the most delightful society and look like having a heaven-sent time for the rest of my natural.'
Madame Rade, whirling on the motor to Naroina's home, murmured that indeed the Bon Dieu had blown them to the island of the blessed.
CHAPTER SEVEN. The Future of the Pirates
A week later the leading members of the community were summoned by the young man and John Tucker to the latter's palace-'on a matter of great importance'.
Besides John Tucker and the young man there were Mike, the bosun, the overseer of the mine, the engineer of the New Decameron, Hannibal McGregor, Herr Kunst, Moss Hell, Lord Reggie, Silverwood and Samura, representing, with his mother Naroina, the native element of the island. Lady Tittle, Helena and Maudie the second were also summoned.
Into this assemblage was led, still a physical wreck, the rescued castaway, who retold in broken English the amazing story he had already told John Tucker.
In brief it ran thus.
Escaped from a convict settlement, he had fallen into the hands of some German engineers who controlled the most wonderful secret naval base in the world.
There, in an island, quite as unknown as Fleur de la Chair, and probably also of volcanic origin, had the Germans during the past few years laid down and practically completed twelve great warships of a type so immensely in advance of anything known that the combined navies of the rest of the world would lie at their mercy. But, added the castaway, the guns and the ammunition had not yet arrived from Krupps's. When the armament was complete it was proposed to launch a blow on the British navy which should make Germany not only ruler of the seas, but of Great Britain and her colonies. The man had fled because of the brutal ill-treatment of the German officers.
The young man spoke. 'Delightful as our island is, we all have some yearning for home. We are strong enough, as these ships are unarmed as yet, to capture the lot. The guns and munitions of war will arrive in unpretentious merchant steamers to avert suspicion, unescorted by cruisers.
'If we bag the lot,' the young man's voice rose to a height of intense enthusiasm, 'we shall not only save England, but put her in a position of unapproachable supremacy. In that event England cannot but forgive us. We are rich enough not to want to be pirates any more.
'We must put guns into the Lesbia. When we have accomplished our end, we will notify England, not before.'
'That'll be lovely,' thought Lady Tittle, "they'll make him a duke again-oh dear, oh dear!'
'I am with you,' said Naroina.
'And I,' said little Helena.
The bold dash was decided as one man, and for the next fortnight the island was a ferment of bustle.
At last, stacked to the decks with provisions and ammunition, and carrying every man they had space for, the New Decameron and the Lesbia steamed out into the summer sea on their stern mission.
For the result, you must wait, readers mine. The next book will not be all bloodshed-in fact, it will be very naughty and improper indeed.
'Hony, my little love,' said the young man as he raised his eyes from the chart while the foam flew past the flanks of the New Decameron, 'old Kipling says, "Four things better than all things are, women and horses and power and war." We're going to have 'em all.'
On the bridge the castaway was giving the quartermaster his bearings.