The Pyrates. George Fraser MacDonald

about getting off at Madagascar, and leaving me to be bored witless all the way to Calicut?

      AVERY (sighing): Alas, dearest, I have my duty.

      VANITY: Indeed? I can see we shall have to get your priorities straight. One, duty is what other people do. Two, if ever you find yourself faced with a choice between duty and me, I shall whistle – once. Three, if you’re to be Sir Benjamin before your twenty-fifth birthday, and we’re to be Earl and Countess before you’re thirty – for I won’t settle for less, and flag rank for you into the bargain –

      AVERY: Angel, I shall win these trifles and lay them at your feet!

      VANITY: Trifles, quotha! You win whatever you like, Tyrone, and I’ll manage the essentials. For know that I am an Admiral’s daughter, a Very Important Lady with immense influence – the King has spoken politely to me –

      AVERY (frowning): Has he, though?

      VANITY: – and before I’m through you’re going to have a seat in the Cabinet. Don’t fret, I can keep Charlie at a distance, and arrange your preferment, advancement, and finances perfectly satisfactorily. Ah, ’twill be very bliss, you and I together, our future golden –

      AVERY (friendly but firm): I still have to get off at Madagascar.

      VANITY: Forget it – I shall speak to Father –

      AVERY: Dear heart, even he is powerless. ’Tis royal command.

      VANITY: Straight up? Oh, blast! Then let us make the most of what little time is left to us for the moment. Hold me, my darling … renew our fleeting rapture …

      AVERY (ardently): Yum-yum!

      VANITY (slightly muffled): Mind my beauty patch …

      By this time Blood had given up in disgust, not untinged with envy, and judging that Avery would be occupied for some time, descended stealthily to the young captain’s cabin and began operations on the oak box with great patience and a bent nail. (No end to the fellow’s criminal versatility.) Presently he had the lid up and was squatting reverently muttering “Bejazus!” as he contemplated the gleaming glory of the crown. So this was the precious secret – and it was going to Madagascar! Fat chance. For about five seconds he gloated greedily, and then, being a highly practical scoundrel, relocked the box and went on deck, where he lurked chin in hand – and he wasn’t considering his next contribution to Dr Barnardo’s, either. How to acquire this wondrous bauble – it must be thought upon. In the meantime, with the crew all asleep and the Quality either swilling port or snogging, it occurred to the Colonel that he knew an excellent way of celebrating his splendid discovery. Watching all that boy-and-girl stuff on the stern gallery had reawakened the beast in him, rakehell that he was …

      Captain Avery, having bidden the delectable Vanity good-night with a last fond grapple at her cabin door, had thereafter repaired rather unsteadily to his quarters for a cold bath. He had been hopelessly in love for several weeks now, but actually petting with beautiful blondes was something else – so that was what Ovid and Count Orsino and the poet Herrick got all worked up about, he reflected breathlessly. Well, he could see what they meant. Wow! And she loved him, and melted in his arms, and her kisses were like perfumed darts from Cupid’s bow … but enough was enough – well, no, it wasn’t, but in the meantime he was Captain Benjamin Avery, after all, with responsibilities and duties and things, and it was time to climb off Cloud Nine for the moment. He would take a brisk walk round the deck before retiring, and this slightly dizzy feeling would go away.

      So he dressed rapidly, and going quietly on deck, was just in time to see a stealthy figure descending the main hatchway. It looked like that awful scoundrel Blood … in a moment the lover was transformed into the cool, alert man of action as the captain, narrow-eyed and treading softly, followed to see what mischief the fellow might be up to when all decent folk were in their pits for the night.

      It did not occur to the Captain that there was anything demeaning about snooping after his fellow-passenger in this fashion. After all, Blood was widely known to be as bent as a boat-hook and, as head prefect at Uppingham Avery had been accustomed to trailing nocturnal bounds-breakers and confiscating their illicit cherry brandy and copies of Playeboye. So now, his magnificent shapely ears pricked, he crept down the companion after the softly sneaking Colonel; past the focsle where the crew snored and the atmosphere was thick enough to sell as coal briquettes, past the main cargo deck, into the hold, and then through dark narrow ways among the piled-up gear, where rats squeaked and scuttled, and only the occasional horn lantern guttered i’ the gloom. Once the Captain paused, when his foot got jammed in a bucket, and then he was hurrying ahead towards a distant gleam of light, whence came the sound of voices, one tense with fury, the other soft and sinisterly mocking …

      “Get away from me!” Black Sheba, crouched against the orlop bulkhead, clutched her rag of shirt across her breasts with one hand and swung the slack of her fetters with the other. “Another step and I’ll lay your face open!”

      “Now, stab me if I understand you,” Blood was saying, and Avery could picture the sinister smile on his lips. “What’s the matter with me? I’m good-looking, young, charming, clean, amiable, and I shaved this morning. Bigod, ye don’t know what a lucky girl ye are; all I want is to help you pass the time pleasant-like –”

      “Some day I’ll pass the time with you,” snarled Sheba, her bazoom heaving like anything, “and you’ll beg to be let die!”

      “Ah, come off it,” said Blood, eyeing the fetters warily. “It’s going to happen to you in Calicut anyway. You’ll be sold off, every delectable pound of ye, to some greasy old hog of a planter, and he won’t take no for an answer. Whereas with me, it’ll not only be a rewarding experience, I’ll even engage to buy you myself – if I can raise the money …”

      The artful stinker had been edging closer, and as Sheba let fly with her chains he ducked nimbly underneath, and with a caddish chuckle tackled her low and pinned her on the straw, smiling mockingly into her blazing eyes. She struggled vainly while he got himself comfy.

      “Now, then,” he said, “what I propose is one little kiss, and if ye don’t like it, then on my honour I’ll leave you be. Tom Blood doesn’t stay where he’s not wanted. But I can’t believe a fine strapping lass like you won’t think better of it …”

      And the bounder’s lips were descending on hers when steely fingers closed on his shoulder, and he was dragged up to meet Avery’s eyes glittering wrathfully, and Avery’s voice ringing in icy scorn:

      “Muckrake! Stinker! Jerk!”

      And he hit the Colonel a big one, splat! which sent the startled amorist hurtling headlong across the orlop, and serve him right. Avery, fists clenched, towered over him in manly indignation, while Black Sheba crouched on her straw, wide-eyed. The Colonel presently sat up and nursed his jaw reflectively.

      “Some days are like this,” he sighed. “Ye just can’t please anybody. A man goes about trying to promote a little happiness, but …” He shrugged and came to his feet, smiling to conceal his anxiety about his bridgework. “That’s a fair wallop ye have in that hand, Captain. Is it as ready when it’s holding steel?”

      “Get out,” snapped the Captain, in refrigerated contempt.

      “So soon?” wondered the Colonel amiably. “We could have a three-handed game of brag … no?” He winked regretfully at Sheba. “Sorry, sweetheart, ye’ll just have to contain your passion for another time. If you’re staying, captain, and she starts fiddling with those chains – duck.”

      And with insolent aplomb the hardened scoundrel tipped them a salute and went off, whistling. Avery waited till his footsteps died away, and then glanced at the swarthy Juno crouched at his feet.

      “Did he hurt you?”

      Sheba shook her head, and slithered up sinuously to lean against the bulkhead while Avery looked about her cramped prison. What a filthy hole, he was thinking, even for a wild female blackamoor; why, his gundogs, Buster and Doodles, had better kennels