“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 over her with all his old grace—“now, if madame will permit me, I will conduct her to the cabin.”
The speech, the very words, the very gesture, the very modulations of the voice—where had she heard them before? A hurried winging of thought brought the swaying of colored lanterns—a garden—a graveled walk—a perfumed night; and while she still looked in wonder, a boisterous puff of wind flared up the torch on the mast and tossed his wide-brimmed hat back upon his head so that she saw a scar upon his temple.
She peered straight forward and he turned his head in vain.
“Good God!” she cried. “This! Is it this?”
It was too late to continue the concealment, had he wished to do so. Then, while he in turn was peering at her, startled at the lively expression of horror in her eyes—a horror at his condition and plainly not at himself—she covered her face with her fingers and bowed her head into them, not shrinkingly in loathing as he might have expected from the woman he had left in London, but in an anguish as of penitence, the impotence of a child at the reproof of an angry parent, in contrition, remorse, or humiliation. He could not understand. But, straightening himself with a stern dignity, which sat well upon him, he replied in a tone so low that its vibrant note barely reached her ears.
“This, madame, ... even this.”