What meant the pirate, when he said powerful enemies? Might not this explain my abduction and detention in this place? I would see whether he would not say more, under the generous influence of the wine.
"Is that so?" I answered. "I know not what thou meanest by powerful enemies; such a thing as that might change my resolution."
But he would not be drawn out. Evidently alarmed by what he had said, he arose unsteadily from the couch.
"Think on what I have said," he replied, as he turned toward the door; "perhaps thou mayest yet come with me." And turning a deaf ear to all my endeavors to detain him, he walked out of the door, bidding me remain where I was.
I still reclined on the couch after DeNortier had passed out of the room. I was tired, my limbs ached, and the wine had produced a pleasant torpor which sapped my energy.
What meant the pirate when he said that I had powerful enemies? Could it be that my father or Richard had taken this method to get me out of the way? Not my father, certainly; he hated me, it is true, but he was too much of the aristocrat to stoop to such work as this. He had cast me off forever, but what motive could he have for condemning me to the life of an exile? No; whoever it was behind the scene, it could not be my father.
Richard, then? It was more like him, for he had always been wont to do his dirty work under cover of darkness, and was none too good for such a trick. But where was the motive? He was the eldest son; the estate and title would fall to him at my father's death; he stood near my father's heart, while the old lord despised me. Why should he wish to do this deed, which might come to light and ruin him? No, I did not think it was Richard. He would have put a dagger in my back, and so been rid of me, once and forever. He would never have had me kidnaped and carried out of England.
There only remained the Viscount James Henry Hampden. It might be that his was the master hand that worked the wires; but I could not believe he would do such a deed. He might wish to get so dangerous a rival out of the way, but why in such a manner as this? He was a soldier; would it not be more likely that he would have picked a quarrel with me, and fought it out as a gentleman? But there came to my mind the threat he had made, that Margaret should be his in spite of Heaven and Hell.
Rumor had it that he had done strange deeds in the Low Country—things that would not bear the light of day. Tales were told of a house in which some Spanish prisoners were confined, which was burned by his command, cooking them alive in its ruins.
Yes, it might be his work. At the thought I ground my teeth together, and my hand sought the hilt of my sword. There was no one else I could think of who had any motive for keeping me out of England. I would keep my eyes open, and perhaps the plot would thicken; in the meantime I would watch and wait.