Slowly the pirate surveyed Georgina from feet to head, taking in her fine figure, lovely heart-shaped face, big dark eyes and the abundant ringlets that fell about her shoulders, then he muttered:
"By the Holy Blood, you're a handsome enough piece to tempt any man. I'm mighty flattered, Mam, to have made such a conquest."
Her eyes were unnaturally bright and her voice had a slightly hysterical note as she replied: "You may disabuse yourself of that belief. I offer myself only because, my husband having been killed this morning, I care not what becomes of me."
"Since that is so, you'll keep a while," he grinned, "and I’ll lose nothing by waiting my turn for you when we get ashore. But this chit here is a different kettle offish. Do I not take her now, some other may forestall me."
Turning away, he seized Clarissa by the arm and dragged her to her feet.
Lucette had been staring in amazement and with a new respect at Georgina. Now, grabbing at Joao's arm as he pulled Clarissa up, she exclaimed:
"Shrew me! But you must be fitted only for a mad-house. To persist in this rather than accept all that so well-endowed a woman as the Countess has to offer—and that of her free will—is nothing short of lunacy."
"Enough of your interference!" he roared, and letting Clarissa go he swung round upon her. Next second his fist shot out. It caught Lucette squarely beneath the jaw. Her head snapped back, her body hovered for an instant, then she crashed full length upon the deck.
For a moment he stood cursing her still form obscenely. Then, grasping Clarissa's wrist, he cried: "Now, my little beauty, we'll to your cabin and see all you have still to show under what's left of that mermaid's dress."
"Hi there! Not so fast," a deep voice boomed in English, and Bloggs shouldered his way out from among the spectators.
Being ignorant of the language, Joao gave him an expressionless stare, then turned to Georgina and asked: "What says this fellow?"
With new hope that Clarissa might yet be saved Georgina threw a glance of appeal at Bloggs, and cried: "If you can prevent this awful thing that is about to happen God will surely reward you. I implore you to speak out in that sense—even if it was not that you had in mind."
Instinctively touching his forelock, Bloggs replied: "May it please your Ladyship, one o' my mates 'ere, Jake Harris, by name, speaks a bit o' the Creole lingo. 'E 'eard the skipper wot captured we say particular to Miss Lucette as 'ow she should 'ave a good care of the ladies. That bein' so, it seems to we that she's in the right of it, an' this skull-faced swab is actin' contry to orders about the young missy.".
"Bless you!" exclaimed Georgina, and gave Joao a swift translation; adding on her own account: "So you'd best have a care. These men threaten to raise the whole crew in mutiny against you."
"They would not dare," snapped Joao. "Do they but raise a finger and I'll have them both strung up to the yard arms within ten minutes. Tell them that; and that the decisions of a Captain in his ship are no man's business but his own."
This time it was Jake who gave Bloggs a rough translation. Having done so, he added: "I'll allow 'e's right in that, Ephraim. Anyways 'tis not our quarrel. Do 'e choose to have 'is will of the wench 'e'll not be answerable to we, but to 'is Frenchy master."
Georgina's heart sank; but Bloggs still stood his ground, and muttered aggressively: "Maybe; yet that's not all. Miss Lucette did no more than 'er plain duty. She be a foine woman, an' I've taken a great fancy to she. I'll not stand by and see she handled so by any dago—be 'e or be ‘e not captain o' the ship. Nay, do 'e now give 'im fair warning, Jake. Dost 'e bash 'er down agin, I'll serve 'e as I served Cap'n Cummins."
Joao's blow had knocked Lucette out. While the altercation was proceeding she had remained sprawled motionless upon her back; but now she groaned, half raised herself, looked dully round and put a hand to her aching jaw. As her eyes fell on Joao they suddenly lit with a return of consciousness. Scrambling to her knees, she made to draw her pistol from her sash.
The pirate had not understood a word of Bloggs's last utterance, neither had Jake yet had time to translate his warning. On catching sight of Lucette's movement, quite unaware of the possible results of his act, he gave her a vicious kick in the ribs which sent her over sideways. Then, turning to Pedro the Carib, who was standing nearby, he snapped:
"Have that coffee-coloured bitch disarmed and thrown into the chain locker."
Bloggs took this new brutality as a deliberate challenge. His broad face suddenly became suffused with blood and his eyes flashed murder. Seized in the paroxysm of one of his ungovernable rages, he wrenched his cutlass from its sheath and rushed upon Joao.
Instantly pandemonium broke out among the entire ship's company. Up to that moment the prize crew, Bloggs's fellow mutineers, and the Porto Ricans had all been mingled together, cheerfully fraternizing. Now, every man in the crowd of thirty or so cast a swift, apprehensive glance at his neighbours, sprang away to get nearer others of his own people or plant his back against some solid object; and every man of them reached for a weapon.
For a moment it seemed certain that a most bloody affray was imminent. It was Jake who saved the situation. Raising his voice above the din of trampling feet, threats and curses, he cried in English:
"Steady mates! There's no sense in our all cutting each other's throats. What is the mulatto woman to us, or the young missy either? Hold on, I say! Stand back, and let these two bully-boys fight the matter out between them."
Lucette had staggered to her feet and, knowing enough English to understand the tenor of Jake's shouts, promptly backed him up by yelling to the Creole-speaking prize crew: "Put up your weapons. This is no quarrel with the Circe's men! Joao has brought a duel - upon himself. Give them the deck to have at one another. Form a ring now, and let the best man win."
Joao meanwhile lost no time in defending himself. By springing aside he evaded Bloggs's first murderous slash. Whipping out his own cutlass he parried Bloggs's second cut, and now they were at: it hammer and tongs, the steel of their blades striking sparks from one another, as they clashed, clanged and slithered in swift give and take.
Recognizing sound sense in the shouted appeals of Jake and Lucette the polyglot crowd of seamen took their hands from their knives and pistols and drew back, forming a wide ring to give ample space for the furious combat. For a few moments they watched it with bated breath, then some of them began to shout bets upon its outcome.
Bloggs was obviously the stronger and weightier of the two, but Joao was the taller by three inches and had the longer reach. He, too, was by far the better blade, as years of fighting had made him extremely proficient in the handling of a cutlass, whereas Bloggs was untutored in the art and could only hope to break down the other's guard by his great strength; yet he had one advantage, for he was sober while Joao was three-parts drunk.
At first they seemed so well matched that either might prove the victor, and their respective backers would give no more than evens. But as Joao skilfully parried cut after cut and Bloggs began to pant like a grampus, it became clear that if the pirate could tire his antagonist out he would have him at his mercy.
Stamping, whirling, lunging and slashing, they careered round and round, the bright light of the moon making their every movement as clear to the spectators as if the fight had been taking place in daytime. Both were now gasping from their exertions and rivulets of sweat were running down their faces. As the minutes passed and Bloggs still failed to get a blow home the betting began to go against nun. Soon, three, four and five to one was being offered on Joao.