The Count, seeing that I was unaffected by his name, continued:
"Thou wouldst perhaps know why I had thee brought aboard, and I will satisfy thy curiosity. I am in need of men—not puppets, but men. When thou wert overpowered upon the street of London, I knew thee to be a man, and had thee brought aboard this ship, not knowing who thou wert. Since bringing thee aboard, I have discovered thy name and reputation. Several of thy countrymen are with me. Come with us. I have lost my lieutenant, and thou shalt have the place. What more couldst thou desire? Gold, wine, the wealth of the broad seas at thy command, a climate the finest in the world, a life of stir and enterprise, which would appeal to thee. Is there more that thou couldst wish?" And leaning back upon his stool against the wall, he looked at me with his cold black eyes.
For a moment the audacity of the scheme amused me. I, a gentleman, to become a wild sea rover; to roam the sea knowing no law or God save that of my captain? It was ridiculous and laughable.
The Count perceived the look of covert amusement upon my face.
"Laugh not, my friend—I am in earnest!" he exclaimed slowly and deliberately. "Weigh my offer well before thou refusest," and he looked at me grimly.
And now the tempter rushed upon me, and whispered—why not? Thou art cut off from thy friends and people, and left an outcast upon the earth, with no home or friends. Why not? To roam the wide seas with none to say thee nay; free as a bird that wings its way among the clouds, far above the path of weary mortals; gold, the wealth of the seas at thy command. Why not?
All the demons of hell assailed me to bear me down. I had no one to mourn for me, or grieve that I should take such a course. To live the bold, free life, though but a day—were it not better than to stand a pariah among men? What matter the morrow? We could live the night with song and laughter, and if with the morn came the pale spectre to hold us to a grim account, we would at least have the consolation of knowing that for one brief night we had lived.
I had almost accepted his offer, forgetting all honor and manhood, forgetting all those higher, nobler things. I had turned to DeNortier, and had opened my mouth to close with his proposition. Already his eye had brightened at the prospect of securing a bold assistant and lieutenant.
And even as I turned there flashed into my mind the thought of a fair maiden, with clear, blue eyes and gold-brown hair, into whose pure soul there had never come one unworthy thought; and I could see with what scorn those eyes would be turned upon me, as one who had disgraced his birth and rank and the honored name he bore.
No, come what might, I would endeavor to be as she would have me. Cut off from her by an impenetrable barrier, I would yet live as a gentleman should, and would pursue my solitary path throughout the long night until the morn.