Page:George Gibbs--Love of Monsieur.djvu/203

 vacancy. “I can promise nothing, madame. It is the fortune of war … or fate.” The last he murmured half below his breath.

“You will take us to Jamaica, monsieur—not the Tortugas—say it will not be the Tortugas!”

“The Tortugas are the lair of the piratos. If I am such, it were useless further to converse. A pirate has small stomach for mercy—much for requital.”

Puzzled somewhat, she grasped her wrap more closely and drew back in dismay. “What do you mean? That you will have no pity, that—” She paused as she saw his bitter smile, stepping a pace back from him in horror.

But the cruel pleasure he had in torturing her, at the sight of her dread and fear was pleasure no longer.

“Madame, forgive me,” he said, with a carefully studied frankness. “I have only said I can make no promises. There are two vessels, and I cannot be upon both. The wind even now is rising, and soon we must be parting company. But I will do for you and for the Spanish lady, your friend, what I may; and now”—bending 191