"Well," said she, at length, "we can't sit here all night and talk
about it, and I've used up all my note-paper and bottles. I'll tell
you what I suggest, since you have seen fit to intrude on two women in
this way. We will hold a parley."
"When?"
"To-morrow."
"At what hour?"
"After breakfast."
"Why not at breakfast?"
"Because we shall eat alone, here,--auntie and I--in our cabin."
"Very well then, if it seems you are so bitter against the new
commander of the ship that you will not sit at the captain's table--as
we did the second time we went to Europe together, we three--don't you
remember, Helena?"
"Never--at your table, sir!" said Helena Emory, her voice like a stab.
And when I bethought me what that had meant before now, what it would
mean all my life, if this woman might never sit at board of mine,
never eat the fruit of my bow and spear, never share with me the bread
of life, for one instant I felt the cold thrust of fate's steel once
more in my bowels. But the next instant a new manner of feeling took
its place, an emotion I never had felt toward her before--anger, rage!
"It is well," said I, pulling together the best I could. "And now, by
my halidom! or by George! or by anything! you shall be taken at your
word. You breakfast here. Be glad if it is more than bread and
water--until you learn a better way of speech with me."
Again I saw that same sudden change on her face, surprise, almost
fright; and I swear she shrank from me as though in terror, her hand
plucking at Aunt Lucinda's sleeve; whereas, all Aunt Lucinda could do
was to pluck at her niece's sleeve in turn.
"As to the parley, then," said I, pulling, by mistake, my mask from my
pocket instead of my kerchief, "we shall hold it, to-morrow, at what
time and in what place I please. It ill beseems a gentleman to pain
one so fair, as we may again remark; but by heaven! Helena, no
resistance!"
"Wait! What do you really mean?" She raised a hand. "I've told you I
just can't understand all this. I always thought you were
a--a--gentleman."
"A much misused word," was my answer. "You never understood me at
all. I am not a gentleman. I'm a poor, miserable, unhappy, drifting,
aimless and useless failure--at least, I was, until I resolved upon
this way to recoup my fortunes, and went in for pirating. What chance
has a man who has lost his fortune in the game to-day--what chance
with a woman? You ask me, who am I? I am a pirate. You ask what I
intend to do? What pirate can answer that? It all depends."