“My lord.”
“My lord.”
They led the man to his imprisonment. Now the guards brought in a thin, pasty woman.
“Charged with harlotry and incontinence, my lord.”
“Incontinence is illegal,” said Sir Henry irritatedly, “but since when have we been punishing people for harlotry?”
“My lord, the nature of this woman—The public health demands—We thought the case would be understood.”
“Ah! I see. She must be locked up. Take her away quickly.”
The woman began to cry sulkily.
Sir Henry rested his forehead on his hands. He did not look up at the next prisoners.
“Charged with piracy on the high seas, my lord; with disturbing the King’s peace; with an act of war against a friendly nation.”
Sir Henry glanced quickly at the prisoners. One was a rotund little man with eyes of terror, and the other a lean, grizzled fellow whose one arm was gone.
“What is the proof against the prisoners?”
“Five witnesses, my lord.”
“So? Make your plea!”
The tall man had put his good arm about the shoulders of his companion.
“We plead guilty, my lord.”
“You plead guilty?” Sir Henry cried in amazement. “But no pirate pleads guilty. It is a case unprecedented.”
“We plead guilty, my lord.”
“But why?”
“Fifty people saw us in action, my lord. Why should we take up your time in denying what fifty people will swear to? No, we are resigned, my lord. We are content, both with the recent action and with our lives.” The wiry arm squeezed about the small round tub of a buccaneer.
Henry sat very silently for a time. But finally he raised his tired eyes. “I sentence you to be hanged.”
“Hanged, my lord?”
“Hanged by the neck until you are dead.”
“You are changed, sir.”
Sir Henry started forward and closely scrutinized the prisoners. Then his lips smiled. “Yes,” he said quietly, “I am changed. The Henry Morgan you knew is not the Sir Henry Morgan who sentences you to death. I do not kill ferociously any more, but coldly, and because I have to.” Sir Henry raised his voice. “Let the court be cleared, but guard the doors! I wish to speak privately with the prisoners.”
When they were alone he began:
“I know well that I am changed, but tell me what is the change you see.”
The Burgundians looked at each other. “You speak, Emil.”
“You are changed, sir, in this way. Once you knew what you were doing. You were sure of yourself.”
“That is so,” broke in the other. “You do not know—you are not sure of yourself any more. Once you were one man. It is possible to trust one man. But now you are several men. If we should trust one of you, we should be in fear of the others.”
Sir Henry laughed. “That is more or less true. It is not my fault, but it is true. Civilization will split up a character, and he who refuses to split goes under.”
“We have forgotten about civilization, thanks to our Mother,” Antoine muttered fiercely.
“What a pity to hang you.”
“But is it so necessary to hang us, sir? Could we not escape or be pardoned?”
“No, you must be hanged. I am sorry, but it must be so. Such is my duty.”
“But duty to your friends, sir—to the men who bore arms with you, who mixed their blood with yours—”
“Listen, Other Burgundian; there are two kinds of duty, and you would know that if you remembered your France. You mentioned one species, and it is the weaker kind. The other, the giant duty—that which will not be overlooked—might be called the duty of appearances. I do not hang you because you are pirates, but because I am expected to hang pirates. I am sorry for you. I would like to send you to your cells with saws in your pockets, but I cannot. As long as I do what is expected of me, I shall remain the Judge. When I change, for whatever motive, I may myself be hanged.”
“That is so, sir. I remember.” He turned to his friend who stood shaking in the grip of horror. “You see, such is the case, Emil. He does not like to tell us this thing because it hurts him. Perhaps he punishes himself in this manner for something he had done or failed to do. Perhaps he remembers Chagres, Emil.”
“Chagres!” Sir Henry bent forward with excitement. “What happened after I sailed away? Tell me!”
“You were cursed, sir, as it is given to few men to be cursed. You were tortured in men’s minds. They feasted on your heart and sent your soul to hell. I enjoyed the scene rarely, because I knew that every man there envied you while he reviled you. I was proud of you, sir.”
“And they scattered?”
“They scattered and died, poor little children.”
“Anyway, I should have hated to fall in with those poor little children! Tell me,” Sir Henry’s voice had become wistful, “tell me about Panama. We did go there, didn’t we? We really captured Panama, didn’t we, and looted it? It was I who led you, wasn’t it?”
“It was so. It was a grand fight and an ocean of plunder—but, after all, you know more about that last than we do.”
“Sometimes I doubt whether this body ever went to Panama. I am sure this brain did not. I would like to stay and talk to you of that old time, but my wife expects me. She is apt to fuss if I am late for luncheon.” He spoke jocosely. “When would you like to be hanged?”
The Burgundians were whispering together.
“Ah, there is that ‘hanged’ again. When would we like to be hanged? Any time, sir. We do not wish to put you to the trouble, but if you insist—any time there is a man and a rope idle.” Antoine approached the table. “Emil wishes to offer one last compliment. It is a gift for your wife—a gift the history of which alone would make it valuable. Emil has treasured this gift to the end, and of this talisman he has reaped a harvest—for talismanic it is, in truth, sir. But Emil thinks its period of duty should end, sir. He believes that by taking this means he can stop the series of events which has flowed out from his treasure. And Emil, unfortunately, will have no further use for it. Emil kisses the hand of Lady Morgan—presents his respects and dignified compliments.” He dropped a rose pearl on the table and turned quickly away.
After they had been led out, Sir Henry sat at his bench and stared at the pearl. Then he put it in his pocket and walked into the street.
He came to the squat, white Palace of the Lieutenant-Governor. It was exactly as Sir Edward had left it. Lady Morgan would not have felt right if a detail had been changed. She met Henry at the door.
“We are to have dinner with the Vaughns. And what am I to do about the coachman? He’s drunk. I’ve told you and told you to lock your closet, but you will not pay attention to me. He sneaked into the house and got a bottle off your shelf. He must have done that.”
“Open your hand, my dear. I have a gift for you.”
He dropped the rose pearl into her palm.
For a moment she looked at the rosy sphere and her face flushed with pleasure, but then she searched his face suspiciously.
“What have you been up to?”
“Up to? Why, I have been holding court.”
“I suppose you got this in court!” Her face lighted up. “I know! You suspected my displeasure at your actions last night. You were practically intoxicated, if you must know the truth; and all the people were staring at you and whispering. Don’t say a word. I saw them and I saw you. And now you want to bribe my feeling—my decency.”
“Suspected your displeasure! My dear, I suspected it all the way home with you, and nearly all night after I got here. You are right. I strongly suspected your displeasure. In fact, I was certain of it. But I will tell you the truth about the pearl.”
“You will tell the truth only because you know you cannot deceive me, Henry. When will you give up the idea that I don’t know every little thought you possess?”
“But I didn’t try to deceive you. You didn’t give me time.”
“It takes no more time to tell the truth than—”
“Listen to me, Elizabeth, please. I tried two pirates this morning and they gave it to me.”
She smiled a superior smile. “They gave it to you? Why? Did you release them? It would be like you to release them. Sometimes I think you would still be one of them if it weren’t for me. You never seem to realize, Henry, that it is really I who have made you what you are—a knight and a gentleman. You made yourself a buccaneer. But tell me, did you release these pirates?”