AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"I beg your pardon," said Lapin - "Look like? There was no question - "
"No no," said Shandy hastily, "keep thinking precisely that, I certainly don't mean to tell you anything you don't need to know. You're in no danger. I'm sure you never had any dealings with," he leaned forward and spoke quietly over the brandies, "pirates."
Lapin's plump face actually turned pale in the evening light. "Pirates?"
Shandy nodded. "An English governor has been sent out to New Providence Island, which is the pirates' home base. Now the pirates are killing off all the respectable merchants they once had dealings with - so as to leave no one to," Shandy winked, "testify." Shandy almost started laughing at the idea of the New Providence pirates being methodical about anything, but he forced himself to maintain a mournful expression.
Lapin swallowed. "Kill the merchants?"
"That's right. The pirates are just waiting for each merchant to establish contact. As soon as one of their old customers gets in touch with them, or consents to see them if they approach him," Shandy shrugged, "that man is as dead as Sebastian."
"Mon Dieu!" Lapin got hastily to his feet, spilling his brandy. He cast a fearful look at the harbor, as if expecting brigands to rush ashore even now. "It is - later than I had thought. It has been pleasant talking to you, M'sieur Chandagnac, but I am afraid I must bid adieu."
Shandy didn't get up, but raised his glass. "To your very good and continuing health, Monsieur Lapin."
But after Lapin bumbled away, Shandy's momentarily raised spirits fell. His uncle was dead and penniless. There would be no revenge and no ship. He rented a room for the night and then in the morning hitched a ride back out to L'Arcahaye and the waiting Jenny.
For the next two weeks he led the Jenny on a frantic roundabout tour of the Caribbean, but though he checked at every port registry, even the English ones where he was a wanted man, there was no record of any Vociferous Carmichael or even Charlotte Bailey having been seen anywhere since the first of August, when, after having magically picked up Shandy and dropped him over the side, Benjamin Hurwood had got his corpse-crew in motion and sailed away.
At the end of the two weeks of fruitless search his crew was on the verge of mutiny and the deadline for taking the King's Pardon was only two days away, so Shandy ordered his men to turn the old sloop toward New Providence Island.
They arrived in the midafternoon of Tuesday, the fifth of September, and when Shandy stepped off the Jenny he didn't look back; Venner could captain her from now on, and take her to Hell or the Heavenly Kingdom for all he cared. Once ashore, Shandy had time to go to the fort, officially take the pardon from Governor Rogers, and still be back on the beach in time to cook up a vast dinner. And, in what was to become a tradition through the next three months, he ate nearly none of it himself, contenting himself instead with huge quantities of drink.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Yes, Skank, Shandy thought again now as he watched someone out in the harbor keep on trying to yank the Jenny's gaff-spar higher, yes I was more jumpy in those days. I had things to do then; now there's only one task left, and that's ... forget. He stretched out more comfortably in the sand and swirled the sun-warmed rum in his cup affectionately.
A young Navy ensign hesitantly approached Shandy. "Excuse me ... you're Jack Shandy?"
Shandy was finishing the cup, and stared owlishly at the young man over the rim. "Right," he said, lowering it finally.
"You're the one - excuse me - that sank the Whitney, aren't you?"
"I don't think so. What was the Whitney?"
"A man-o'-war that blew up and sank, this last June. They'd captured Philip Davies, and - "
"Oh." Shandy noticed that his cup was empty, and got to his feet. "Right. Until now I never knew her name. Actually, it was Davies that blew her up - I just helped." He put his cup down on the table in front of the liquor tent and nodded at the man who ran it.
"And you shot the captain?" the young ensign went on.
Shandy picked up his refilled cup. "It was a long time ago. I don't remember."
The ensign looked disappointed. "I arrived here on the Delicia, with Governor Rogers," he explained. "I, uh ... guess this was a pretty wild place before, huh? Swordfights, shootings, treasure ... "
Shandy laughed softly and decided not to burst the boy's romantic bubble. "Oh, aye, all o' that."
Encouraged, the young man pressed on. "And you sailed with Blackbeard himself, I hear, on that mysterious trip to Florida? What was that like?"
Shandy gestured expansively. "Oh ... hellish, hellish. Treachery, swordfights, men walking the plank, sea battles ... trackless swamps, terrible fevers, cannibal Carib Indians dogging our tracks ... " He paused, for the young ensign was blushing and frowning.
"You don't have to make fun of me," the boy snapped.
Shandy blinked, not recalling exactly what he'd been saying. "What do you mean?"
"Just because I'm new out here doesn't mean I don't know anything. I knew the Spaniards completely wiped out the Carib Indians two hundred years ago."
"Oh." Shandy scowled in concentration. Where had he heard of Carib Indians? "I didn't know that. Here, lemme buy you some rum, I didn't mean any ... any ... "
