Participation in this solemn ceremonial was proof of social recognition beyond all certificates of character.
And yet, I was not happy.
Deep down in my heart, I had harbored treachery to the Sargassons. One of my constant dreams had been to regain possession of the Caribas, that I might repair her machinery, store her with dried seaweed and other drift, with which to feed her boilers long enough to get up steam and reclaim the lost ship for her owners.
My own release from the enforced detention did not excite my imagination nearly so much as the prospect of returning to the owners at Plymouth the property that they had intrusted to my care.
Torn by conflicting emotions of love and duty, I was the most miserable of men. I could not forget Fidette. Equally hard was it for me to overlook the countless kind acts that I had received from the Sargasson people. They had robbed me of my command; had dishonored me in my own eyes; but theirs was a novel piracy, so curious and interesting that I forgave the injustice to me.
Besides, there was much to be said in behalf of the Sargassons. Other nations, whose people are far more civilized, indulge in conquests, make war without due provocation, capture ships, burn towns and massacre innocent people. To the Sargassons, a constant accession of new ships and new blood is necessary. They are not a prolific people. From their point of view, any ship that strays or adventures within the limits of their domain is lawful prize. They make war upon no other part of the world! Their possessions are far out of the ordinary path of trade, and misfortune and foolishness are the only two excuses for an invasion of Sargasso. It is true, they are merciless and cruel. In their battles they neither give nor accept quarter; but such is the Draconian law they practice against each other.
It is perfectly natural that they should discountenance the escape of any adventurer who may have become possessed of the secret of their existence.
Every ship in Sargasso is a treasure house, loaded with the salvage of derelicts from every quarter of the habitable globe. No government to-day in existence, recognizes the rights of the Sargassons. The limits of their strangely organized republic are undefined. Like the Numancians of old, they perish by self-destruction rather than surrender to external foes. Sleeping or waking, each member of a ship’s company exists only at the mercy of the Kantoon who commands the craft.
The bottom of every ship is a honeycomb of holes, the plugs in which can be drawn by means of chains leading to the Commander’s cabin.
Therefore, I say, the fact that I have returned to my native land and am able to recount my curious experiences is solely due to the fact that the mercy and kindness of the Sargassons in my case were misplaced. For their own protection they should have made way with me. The recent account of the Bureau of Navigation at Washington, directing that several of the smaller armed cruisers be sent to the Sargasso Sea for the purpose of blowing up and sinking all the vessels found therein, is the result of an indiscreet communication made by me shortly after my return a few weeks ago.