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entirely given up to desperate and murderous smugglers. But this was the first I had heard definitely of warrants against me in Jamaica. That, no doubt, he had heard from Ramon, who knew everything. In all this little sardonic Irishman said to me, it seemed the only thing worth attention. It stuck in my mind while, in persuasive tones, and with airy fuency, he discoursed of the profits that could be made, nowadays, in arming privateers under the Mexican flag. He told me I needn't be surprised at their being fitted out in a Spanish colony. “There's more than one aspect to disloyalty like this,” said he dispassionately, but with a quick wink contrasting with his tone.
Spain resented our recognition of their rebellious colonies. And with the same cool persuasiveness, relieved by humorous smiles, he explained that the loyal Spaniards of the Ever Faithful Island thought there was no sin in doing harm to the English, even under the Mexican flag, whose legal existence they did not recognize.
"Mind ye, it's an organized thing, I have something to say in it. It hurts Mr. Canning's Government at home, the curse of Cromwell on him and them. They will be dropping some of their own colonies directly. And as you are a Separationist, small blame to you, and I am an Irishman, we shan't cry our eyes out over it. Come, Mr. Kemp, 'tis all for the good of the Cause ... And there's nothing low. You are a gentleman, and I wouldn't propose anything that was. The very best people in Havana are interested in the matter. Our schooners lie in Rio Medio, but I can't be there all the time myself.”
Surprise deprived me of speech. I glanced at Carlos. He was watching us inscrutably. The young girl touched the lizard gently, but it was too frightened to move. O'Brien, with shrewd glances, rocked his chair. ... What did I want? he inquired. To see life? What he proposed was the life for a fine young fellow like me. Moreover, I was half Scotch. Had I forgotten the wrongs of my own country. Had I forgotten the '45 ?
“You'll have heard tell of a Scotch Chief Justice whose son spent in Amsterdam the money his father earned on the justice seat in Edinb'ro'-money paid for rum and run silks ..."
Of course I had heard of it; everybody had; but it had been some years before.
ht. The young giBrien, with shrewd. To see
“We're backwards hereabouts,” O'Brien jeered. “But over there they winked and chuckled at the judge, and they do the same in Havana at us.”
Suddenly from behind us the voice of the young girl said, “Of what do you discourse, my English cousin ? '
O'Brien interposed deferentially. “ Señorita, I ask him to come to Rio,” he said.
She turned her large dark eyes scrutinizingly upon me, then dropped them again. She was arranging some melon seeds in a rayed circle round the lizard that looked motionlessly at her.
The old Don's face was still turned to the ceiling. Carlos, standing behind his chair, opened his mouth a little in a half smile. I was really angry with O'Brien by that time, with his air of omniscience, superiority, and self-content, as if he were talking to a child or someone very credulous and weak-minded.
“What right have you to speak for me, Señor Juez?” I said in the best Spanish I could.
The young girl looked at me once more, and then again looked down.
“Oh, I can speak for you,” he answered in English, “because I know. Your position's this.” He sat down in his rocking chair, crossed his legs, and looked at me as if he expected me to show signs of astonishment at his knowing so much. “You're in a hole. You must leave this island of Jamaica—surely it's as distressful as my own dear land—and you can't go home, because the runners would be after you. You're 'wanted here as well as there, and you've nowhere to go.”
tended one plump hand towards me, and still further lowered his voice.
“Now, I offer you a good berth, a snug berth. And ’tis a pretty spot." He got a sort of languorous honey into his voice, and drawled out, “ The—the Señorita’s.” He took an air of businesslike candor. “You can help us, and we you; we could do without you better than you without us. Our undertaking—there's big names in it, just as in the Free Trading you know so well, don't be
saying you don't-is worked from Havana. What we need is a man we can trust. We had one-Nichols. You remember the mate of the ship you came over in. He was Nicola el Demonio; he won't be any longer–I can't tell you why, it's too long a story.”
I did remember very vividly that cadaverous Nova Scotian mate of the Thames, who had warned me with truculent menaces against showing my face in Rio Medio. I remembered his sallow, shiny cheeks, and the exaggerated gestures of his clawlike hands.
O'Brien smiled. “ Nichols is alive right enough, but no more good than if he were dead. And that's the truth. He pretends his nerve's gone; he was a devil among tailors for a time, but he's taken to crying now. It was when your blundering old admiral's boats had to be beaten off that his zeal cooled. He thinks the British Government will rise in its strength.” There was a bitter contempt in his voice, but he regained his calm business tone. “It will do nothing of the sort. I've given them those seven poor devils that had to die to-day without absolution. So Nichols is done for, as far as we are concerned. I've got him put away to keep him from blabbing. You can have his place—and better than his place. He was only a sailor, which you are not. However, you know enough of ships, and what we want is a man with courage, of course, but also a man we can trust. Any of the Creoles would bolt into the bush the moment they'd five dollars in hand. We'll pay you well; a large share of all you take.”
I laughed outright. “You're quite mistaken in your man," I said. “You are, really.”
He shook his head gently, and brushed an invisible speck from his plump black knees.
“You must go somewhere,” he said. “Why not go with us?” I looked at him, puzzled by his tenacity and assurance.
“ Ramon here has told us you battered the admiral last night; and there's a warrant out already against you for attempted murder. You're hand and glove with the best of the Separationists in this island, I know, but they won't save you from being committed
-for rebellion, perhaps. You know it as well as I do. You were down here to take a passage to-day, weren't you, now?"
I remembered that the Island Loyalists said that the pirates and Separationists worked together to bother the admiral and raise discontent. Living in the center of Separationist discontent with the Macdonalds, I knew it was not true. But nothing was too bad to say against the planters who clamored for union with the United States.
O'Brien leaned forward. His voice had a note of disdain, and then took one of deeper earnestness; it sank into his chest. He extended his hand; his eyebrows twitched. He looked—he was a conspirator.
“ I tell you I do it for the sake of Ireland,” he said passionately, “Every ship we take, every clamor they raise here, is a stroke and is disgrace for them over there that have murdered us and ruined my own dear land.” His face worked convulsively; I was in presence of one of the primeval passions. But he grew calm immediately after. “You want Separation for reasons of your own. I don't ask what they are. No doubt you and your crony Macdonald and the rest of them will feather your own nests; I don't ask. But help me to be a thorn in their sides—just a little—just a little longer. What do I put in your way? Just what you want. Have your Jamaica joined to the United States. You'll be able to come back with your pockets full, and I'll be joyful—for the sake of my own dear land.”
I said suddenly and recklessly—if I had to face one race-passion, he had to look at another; we were cat and dog-Celt and Saxon, as it was in the beginning: “I am not a traitor to my country.”
Then I realized with sudden concern that I had probably awakened the old Don. He stirred uneasily in his chair, and lifted one hand. . “The moment I go out from here I'll denounce you,” I said very low; “I swear I will. You're here; you can't get away; you'll swing.”
O'Brien started. His eyes blazed at me. Then he frowned. “I've been misled,” he muttered, with a dark glance at Carlos. And recovering his jocular serenity, “Ye mean it?” he asked; “it's not British heroics ? ”
The old Don stirred again and sighed.
said, “ you have so irritated my English cousin that he has awakened my father.”
O'Brien grinned gently. “ 'Tis ever the way,” he said sardon ically. “The English fools do the harm and the Irish fool gets the kicking.” He rose to his feet, quite collected, a spick-and-span little man. “I suppose I've said too much. Well, well! You are going to denounce the senior judge of the Marine Court of Havana as a pirate. I wonder who will believe you!” He went behind the old Don's chair with the gliding motion of a Spanish lawyer, and slipped down the open trap-hatch near the window.
It was the disappearance of a shadow. I heard some guttural mutterings come up through the hatch, a rustling, then silence. If he was afraid of me at all he carried it off very well. I apologized to the young girl for having awakened her father. Her color was very high, and her eyes sparkled. If she had not been so very beautiful I should have gone away at once. She said angrily:
"He is odious to me, the Señor Juez. Too long my father has suffered his insolence." She was very small, but she had an extraordinary dignity of command. “I could see, Señor, that he was annoying you. Why should you consider such a creature?” Her head drooped. “But my father is very old.”
I turned upon Carlos, who stood all black in the light of the window.
“Why did you make me meet him? He may be a judge of your Marine Court, but he's nothing but a scoundrelly bogtrotter.”
Carlos said a little haughtily, “You must not denounce him. You should not leave this place if I feared you would try thus to bring dishonor on this gray head, and involve this young girl in a public scandal.” His manner became soft. “For the honor of the house you shall say nothing. And you shall come with us. I need you."
I was full of mistrust now. If he did countenance this unlawful enterprise, whose headquarters were in Rio Medio, he was not the man for me. Though it was big enough to be made, by the papers at home, of political importance, it was, after all, neither more nor less than piracy. The idea of my turning a sort of Irish traitor was so extravagantly outrageous that now I could smile at the