Black Bartlemys Treasure

"'Go back!' says she in Spanish, pointing to the surf that thundered beyond the reef. 'Go back! Here is the devil--the sea hath more mercy--go back whiles ye may!' And now she checked all at once and falls a-shivering, for a voice reached us, a man's voice a-singing fair to hear, and the song he sang was this, 'Hey cheerly O and cheerly O And cheerly come sing O! While at the mainyard to and fro-and knowing this voice (to my cost) I looked around for some weapon, since I had none and was all but naked, and whipping up a jagged and serviceable stone, stood awaiting him with this in my fist. And down the beach he comes, jocund and debonair in his finery, albeit something pale by reason of excess and my rapier work. And now I come to look at you, Martin, he was just such another as you as to face and feature, though lacking your beef and bone. Now he beholding me where I stood, flourishes off his belaced hat and, making me a bow, comes on smiling.

"'Ah,' says he gaily, ''tis Captain Penfeather of the Brotherhood, a-collogueing with my latest wife! Is she not a pearl o' dainty woman-ware, Captain, a sweet and luscious piece, a passionate, proud beauty worth the taming--ha, Captain? And she is tamed, see you. To your dainty knees, wench--down!' Now though he smiled yet and spake her gentle, she, bowing proud head, sank to her knees, crouching on the ground before him, while he looked down on her, the devil in his eyes and his jewelled fingers toying with the dagger in his girdle, a strange dagger with a hilt wrought very artificially in the shape of a naked woman--"

"How," says I, leaning across the table, "A woman, Penfeather?"

"Aye, shipmate! So I stood mighty alert, my eyes on this dagger, being minded to whip it into his rogue's heart as chance might offer. 'I wonder,' says he to this poor lady, 'I wonder how long I shall keep thee, madonna, a week--a month--a year? Venus knoweth, for you amuse me, sweet. Rise, rise, dear my lady, my Dolores of Joy, rise and aid me with thy counsel, for here hath this misfortunate clumsy Captain fool blundered into our amorous paradise, this tender Cyprian isle sacred to our passion. Yet here is he profaning our joys with his base material presence. How then shall we rid ourselves of this offence? The knife--this lover o' men of mine? The bullet? Yet 'tis a poor small naked rogue and in two days cometh my 'Ladies' Delight' and Tressady with his hook. See, my Dolores, for two days he shall be our slave and thereafter, for thy joy, shall show thee how to die, my sweet--torn 'twixt pimento trees or Tressady's hook--thou shalt choose the manner of't. And now, unveil, unveil, my goddess of the isle--so shall--' Ha, Martin! My stone took him 'neath the ear, and as he swayed reeling to the blow, lithe and swift as any panther this tortured woman sprang, and I saw the flash of steel ere it was buried in his breast. Even then he didn't fall, but, staggering to a pimento tree, leans him there and falls a-laughing, a strange, high-pitched, gasping laugh, and as he laughed thus, I saw the silver haft of the dagger that was a woman leap and quiver in his breast. Then, laughing yet, he, never heeding me, plucked and levelled sudden pistol, and when the smoke cleared the brave Spanish lady lay dead upon the sands.