When the Vicomte had concluded this recital, Georgina asked him how it was that he had become a pirate himself. His thin face darkened as he replied:
"In '87 I inherited great estates in Martinique, so came out from France to inspect my property. I found that the climate suited me and that life in the island was delightful. Every reasonable amenity was obtainable, and the nobility formed a cultured and charming society; so I decided to settle there. It was the accursed Revolution that deprived me, like so many others, of wealth and security.
"Soon after our foolish King gave way to his criminal advisers and summoned the States General, our troubles began. By 1790 agitators were arriving in the islands and preaching their iniquitous doctrine of liberty and equality to the slaves. Uprisings followed and on isolated estates the slaves murdered their white masters. For a time we succeeded in localizing these revolts, but we were vilely betrayed by our government at home. The Convention passed a decree liberating the slaves, and sent a ruffian named Victor Hugues as their representative, to have the decree carried out. Civil war resulted. Later, with the help of the English, these revolts were suppressed; but I am speaking of the early days. In my part of the island we are hopelessly outnumbered. Several of my neighbours, with their wives and children, were massacred and those who survived fled for their lives.
"When I was younger I held a commission in the French Navy, and soon after settling in Martinique I had purchased a schooner which I kept in the harbour of Saint Pierre. By night I managed to get aboard her unseen with half a dozen mulattoes who had remained loyal to me. I had no money, few provisions and no refuge for which I could make; so I decided to continue the war as a free lance.
"Some nights later we surprised a larger vessel which I knew to be armed with cannon. I had planned the attack knowing most of her crew to be ashore; so we succeeded in overpowering the remainder, and forcing them to join us. For upwards of two months I then wrought much havoc among vessels trading with Revolutionary France. It was the English who caused me to abandon those waters, as some months earlier they had declared war on France, and their navy began to make it dangerous for French ships to leave port.
"My search for suitable quarry led me north to Saint-Domingue, but up here I found very similar conditions; so in order to maintain myself it became necessary to make prizes of any ships that offered, irrespective of their flags. My operations were ill regarded by one Bartholomew Redbeard, who had hitherto looked on these parts as his private preserve. By that time both my crew and the armament of my ship had been greatly strengthened; so one fine September morning I gave Monsieur Redbeard battle. By midday he was worsted, and as the sun went down I hanged him from his own yard arm. Those of his followers who survived the conflict agreed to serve under me, and it was they who led me here. Since I acquired this property I have greatly improved it, and as I find the excitement of the life agreeable I shall probably continue in it for some years. However, I am amassing a pleasant fortune in Genoa, to which Madame la Comtesse is about to make a handsome contribution; so if ever I become bored I shall be able to retire to Italy in affluent circumstances."
On the face of it the history he had related appeared to be one of calamitous ill-fortune overcome by audacity and high courage, but all his reluctant guests knew that if fully enquired into it would reveal him as cunning, unscrupulous, and a bloody-minded tyrant who, apart from one battle, had consistently preyed upon the weak. Roger hoped that long before he decided to retire on his ill-gotten gains he would be caught by a ship-of-war, and end his days kicking at empty air as he was hoisted to a gallows.
As the meal progressed conversation became more general, and Roger attempted to draw out his left-hand neighbour. But Philo the
Greek had evidently been selected as one of the Vicomte's Lieutenants only on his qualities as a sea-rover. Although he had been born in Greece and had not come to the Spanish Main until well into his twenties he knew nothing of the history of his country. He was simply a rough diamond who m other circumstances might have made an excellent captain in a trading vessel. He was clearly not an evil man by nature, but accepted the merciless deeds, inseparable from piracy, as part of the way of life fate had decreed that he should lead. His ability to reply to questions was, moreover, considerably hampered by his having to concentrate on eating with some semblance of a propriety to which he was obviously unaccustomed.
Cyrano was much more forthcoming. He was a man-of some education and the son of a Nantes shipowner. Romance had been the cause of his undoing; for he had seduced the daughter of a 'noble of the robe' as the legal nobility of France were termed, and been found out. To save him from prison his father had got him away in one of the family's ships; but she had been captured by pirates off the French island of St. Christopher, and the pirates had pressed him into their service. Finding a life of adventure, with easy money and plenty of women, much more to his taste than a bourgeois existence m France, he had made no attempt to escape but continued in it. Some years later he had joined Bartholomew Redbeard and, in due course, came under the banner of the Vicomte.
They had been talking for some time when he remarked to Roger: "May I congratulate you on your French, Monsieur. You speak it with an accent and fluency quite exceptional in an Englishman."
"Thank you," Roger smiled. "But that is readily accounted for by my having lived for a good part of my life in France."
A momentary silence having fallen, the Vicomte caught the exchange and, looking down the table, said: "I think, then, that we must have met before. When I first saw you this morning your face seemed familiar to me."
"I had the same feeling," Roger replied. "But on your telling us a while back that you have been m the Indies since '87 I decided that I must have been mistaken."
"Why so, if, as you say, you have spent a good part of your life in France?"
"That is true; for I ran away from home to France when I was not yet sixteen, and have since returned there many times, often for lengthy periods."
"In what parts of France have you lived?"
"Mostly in Paris; but at one time or another I have stayed for a while in many of the great provincial cities. However, I spent my first few years in Brittany, and during them my circumstances were such that it is highly improbable that I should have made the acquaintance of Monsieur le Vicomte. Indeed, had I done so I should certainly recall it."
"Did you never go to Versailles?" the Vicomte persisted. "Yes; and latterly I had the honour to be received on numerous occasions by their Majesties. But that would be after Monsieur le Vicomte had left for Martinique. My early visits to the palace were made only in the role of a young secretary carrying documents to a nobleman who had apartments there." "To whom do you refer?"
"I was at that time in the service of the Marquis de Rochambeau."
There was a moment's silence. During it de Senlac's thin face paled and purple blotches appeared on it Suddenly he sprang to his feet, thrust out a quivering jewelled hand, pointed at Roger and screamed:
"Murderer! Assassin! I know you now! Twas you who foully slew my beloved uncle, M. le Comte de Caylus."
chapter X
A HAND FROM THE GRAVE
That recognition should have led to this caused Roger's heart to bound with swift, terrible misgiving. Rising more slowly he strove to conceal his emotion. With an effort he kept his voice level, as he replied:
"You are mistaken, Monsieur. I killed the Count, but fairly, in a duel."
"Liar! Assassin!" stormed the Vicomte, trembling with rage. "I know the truth! You waylaid his coach like a footpad in the forest of Melun, and did him to death."