Captain Blood: His Odyssey / Одиссея капитана Блада. Рафаэль Сабатини

him – and he also knew quite well that Lord Gildoy had supported the Duke.

      “There’s no time to lose.”

      “Be easy now. I will not lose any. Come in… take a chair…” He opened the door.

      Young Pitt did not go in.

      “I’ll wait here. Hurry up, in God’s name.”

      Mr. Blood thought he would ask young Pitt questions on their way. While the doctor put on his boots, he told Mrs. Barlow what to do and what he wanted for dinner. Mr. Blood did not know then that he would not eat it.

      When at last he left the house, he found young Pitt among women who had come to ask for the news of the battle. Mr. Blood could see that they were upset by the news Jeremy had given them.

      When he saw the doctor, he climbed to the saddle.

      “Come along, sir,” he cried. “Mount behind me.”

      Mr. Blood did as he was asked. The women gave way, and Peter Blood set out upon his Odyssey.

      Chapter II

      KIRKE’S DRAGOONS

      The farm stood a mile or so to the south of Bridgewater on the right bank of the river. It was a grey building with ivy on its lower parts. A sweet smell came from the orchards, and the waters of the river reflected the morning sun. It was dificf ult to believe that there was a war happening in that area.

      Near Bridgewater they had met many wounded men who crossed the river to go back to the town where they would get help and shelter. They looked at Mr. Blood and young Pitt in terror as they rode across the bridge out of the city and towards Feversham’s headquarters.

      Soon enough there were no signs of battle. Mr. Blood and Jeremy Pitt were now riding through the peaceful orchards heavy with the fruit.

      At last they reached the courtyard, where Baynes, the master of the homestead, greeted them.

      In the big hall, the doctor found Lord Gildoy – a very tall and dark young gentleman – on a day-bed under one of the tall windows. Mrs. Baynes and her daughter were taking care of him. His face was pale, his eyes closed, and his lips blue. He moaned quietly.

      Mr. Blood stood for a moment and watched his patient. Lord Gildoy had such bright hopes in life. Peter Blood had always liked this brave man and found it sad that he had decided to risk it all, perhaps life itself, for someone like Monmouth. The doctor sighed and knelt by the day-bed and called for water and linen and what else he needed for his work.

      He was still working a half-hour later when the dragoons arrived. He did not notice them and the noise that they were making, but he could feel that Lord Gildoy grew worried. Jeremy Pitt, who – unlike the doctor – had seen that the dragoons were coming, hid quickly in a clothes-press.

      Baynes, his wife, and daughter were scared. Mr. Blood tried to calm them down.

      “Don’t be afraid,” he said. “It’s a Christian country, and Christian men do not fight the wounded, or those who help them.” He still had, you see, illusions about Christians. He made Lord Gildoy drink a glass of cordial. “The worst is done, my lord.”

      And then they came into the hall – the dragoons of the Tangiers Regiment[10], led by a black-browed man with gold lace on his chest.

      Baynes stood where he was, and his wife and daughter moved back in fear. Mr. Blood, at the head of the day-bed, looked over his shoulder at the men.

      The oficf er gave his men an order, and then spoke to Baynes.

      “I am Captain Hobart, of Colonel Kirke’s dragoons. Are there any rebels here?”

      Baynes was scared, his voice was trembling.

      “I… I do not help rebels, sir. This wounded gentleman…”

      “I can see for myself.” The Captain came up to the daybed, and looked at the grey-faced Lord Gildoy.

      “No need to ask what happened to him. A rebel, and that’s enough for me.” He gave an order to his dragoons. “Take him out.”

      Mr. Blood stood up. He was now between the day-bed and the dragoons.

      “Sir!” said he, angrily. “This is England, not Tangiers. The gentleman is wounded. He may die if you move him.”

      Captain Hobart was surprised.

      “Oh, I have to think of the lives of these rebels! Do you think we’re taking him to take care of his health? There’re gallows along the road from Weston to Bridgewater. Colonel Kirke’ll teach these rebels a lesson.”

      “You’re hanging men without trial?”

      The Captain looked at him angrily. Soldier recognized soldier. The Captain’s eyes narrowed. He started to remember.

      “Who may you be?” he asked.

      “My name is Blood, sir – Peter Blood.”

      “Yes – yes! That’s the name. You were in French service once, were you not?”

      If Mr. Blood was surprised, he did not show it.

      “I was.”

      “Then I remember you – five years ago, or more, you were in Tangiers.”

      “That is so. I knew your colonel.”

      “You may meet him again.” The Captain laughed unpleasantly. “What brings you here, sir?”

      “This wounded gentleman. I was brought here to help him. I am a doctor.”

      “A doctor – you?” The Captain did not believe him.

      “Medicinae baccalaureus,” said Mr. Blood.

      “Don’t talk French to me, man,” said Hobart in a loud voice. “Speak English!” Mr. Blood’s smile annoyed him.

      “I am a doctor,” Mr. Blood explained. “I work in the town of Bridgewater.”

      The Captain looked at him unkindly. “You followed your Duke there from Lyme Regis[11].”

      Mr. Blood returned his unfriendly look. “If your wit were as big as your voice, my dear, you’d be a great man.”

      For a moment the dragoon did not say anything. His face grew purple.

      “I may be great enough to hang you.”

      “You look and act like a hangman. But if you hang my patient here, you may risk your life. He’s not someone you may hang without trial. He has the right to trial – the right to trial by his peers.”

      “By his peers?”

      The Captain was surprised when he heard those three words.

      “Sure, now, only a fool would not have asked his name. The gentleman is Lord Gildoy.”

      And then Lord Gildoy spoke for himself, in a weak voice.

      “I support the Duke of Monmouth. I’ll take the consequences. But I’ll take them after trial – by my peers, as the doctor has said.”

      The Captain was quiet for a moment. As it is common in many men like Hobart, deep down he was a very shy man. And so when he learnt who Lord Gildoy was, he felt very shy. He had always felt respect and fear towards titles. And he had always felt respect and fear towards his colonel. Percy Kirke would not forgive his mistakes, so the Captain wanted to be sure that he did not make any.

      By a gesture he stopped his men. He must think. Soon enough Mr. Blood gave him yet another reason to think.

      “Lord

10

Танжерский полк был образован в 1661 г. и входил в состав гарнизона английского Танжера (крупный портовый город на севере Марокко).

11

Лайм-Риджис – маленький город в Юго-Западной Англии.