From that moment Barthelemy was completely transformed. His heart was stone, nothing touched it except a woman's sobs; then he fled, it was more than he could bear.
To his men he was stern to the point of injustice, the most trivial offence did not escape his punishment, every evening he held a court of justice by which he had those who were accused imprisoned in the ship's hold, flogged, or shot. Yet there was one person whom he never attacked, Glasby. He spent whole nights in questioning him about his family life, his mother, and his betrothed bride, listening with eager attention to all the details for the hundredth time. He showed mercy to no one, burning or sinking the captured ships, unmoved by submission or entreaties, but if a vessel chanced to have a woman on board, and he heard her voice he would take nothing from the ship and let her pursue her way uninjured.
One day he assembled the crews of both pirate cruisers on the deck of the Commodore.
"My lads," he said, "life here is beginning to grow wearisome. Fortune offers her favors in vain, there is no one on this side of the world whom we fear; we have plenty of booty, but no fame, for we encounter no foemen worthy of us. Let us go farther. These Dutch and Portuguese merchantmen already fear us to such a degree that they almost love us. Let us go where we are not known, among the English and French, whose troops sleep secure in their fortresses along the coast, where Fortune is still a coy maiden who permits her favors to be grasped only by strong hands. Let us win honor and fame in the places where the wise law-makers have written a hundred paragraphs against us in their code of laws, let us tear out the page, and place in its stead the words that there are no laws for the brave."
Barthelemy wished to fire his comrades' hearts as he had done in former days, but he was unsuccessful, the tones which had once thrilled them were dead; the fire in his soul, one spark of which had sufficed to kindle theirs, was extinct. Now he could influence them only by his coldness.
"Pirates," he went on, folding his arms, "I promised you treasures, you promised me blood. Let us both keep our word. Our work here is beggarly. To plunder the ships of peaceful merchants, who surrender their goods without defence! And of what use are they? We merely give them away. I will take you to the home of treasures, the coasts of Africa, where ships laden with gold-dust plough the sea, where the negro kings sleep on golden sand and the negro warriors fight with golden weapons. We will plunder these ships, dig the golden sand from under the sleeping kings, and bury them in it, wrench the precious weapons from the negroes' hands and give them cheaper ones of iron in their hearts."
This pleased the pirates who made up the Commodore's crew, and they responded with murmurs of approval, but the Fortuna's men remained silent, with sullen, defiant faces.
Barthelemy noted the different effect he had produced, and wrapping himself deliberately in his ample cloak, whose folds concealed his hands, he added: "Perhaps there is some one who does not approve this plan, let him state what he has against it. He can speak freely, I will listen."
The crew of the Fortuna began to gather into groups and whisper together; at last two men came forward, hitching their trousers, and stood with resolute faces before the captain.