The Argosy, Vol. 75, No. 4 — page 145: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

SAILING WITH “Outen estais ustedes? Inglesos?” “ Si, st!’ answered Mr. Blew. “ What do you here? ”’ “Stress of weather, sevior! We were dismasted by a storm four days since. I am short-handed and—’’ He got no further, when the galley dropped alongside. Ten soldiers sprang aboard, and before we had suf- ficient time in which to remonstrate against this high-handedness we found ourselves prisoners in the roundhouse on the galley, the door closed, and a sentry set. * All attempts on our part to enter into conversation with our captors were met with “ Silencio, silencio!” from the sentry, and when we were landed on the stone muello the threat- ening aspect of the crowd that gath- ered at the dockhead made us glad of the protection of the soldiers. We were marched along a narrow, not overclean street from the head of the landing, up past the plaza and the palace of the governor beyond the great cathedral to the presidio, which was surrounded by high, massive walls, below which was a moat across which a drawbridge gave access to the sally- port. A port-cullis, half raised, creaked, and when we had crossed dropped into place behind us with an ill - omened clang. 3 The main-guard turned out with a clash of muskets and a ringing of sword-blades, and a moment later we were rudely pushed down into a long, dark corridor that was dimly lighted by old-fashioned arrow-slits. ~A number of small doors opened into this corridor. One of these was opened with a clang. Oakes and I were roughly shoved inside, and the door was closed and locked on us be- fore we had found our feet, leaving us in semidarkness. It was long before my eyes became used to the dusky twilight. I got to my feet and stumbled aimlessly across the stone floor. Oakes heard me and called out MORGAN. 847 quickly: “ You had better sit down and stay down, Upholme, till we get some kind of a light. There may be a hole that you'll fall into. Wait a bit! I have a tinder-box and a bit of candle if I can get to it.” I heard the clink, clink! of the flint striking against the steel, then Oakes swearing softly as he struck his knuckle; then a spark fell and a tiny flame appeared with Odakes’s face blowing in the middle of it. His face looked careworn and anxious. “You look worried,” I said. “IT have need to, lad. Do you re- member that we are in the hands of the Spaniards, and that the only for- eigners that they see are the bucca- neers, or, as they call themselves, the Brethren of the Coast? There has been war here for forty years.” “Why, yes, [ know we are in the hands of the Spaniards,” I said. The words meant little to me. It had been no infrequent thing in the past three years to have a Spanish trader drop anchor in the Sound and barter his wines and spices for foodstuffs. “Aye, aye! I hope ’'m wrong, but a Jack Spaniard trading when the other man is the stronger is a different man from the same Spaniard when he has you safe in his clutches. Besides that, they fear us, lad; not you nor me, but every man who has a sword- hand and the will to use it. They fear every able-bodied man that trades or sails along the Spanish Main. And, above all, they fear Morgan, and they seem to think that every man who is not a Spaniard is in league with him.” “What has he done, then?” I asked. He hooted in derision. “ Not know of Morgan! Why, lad, he is the best master of freebooters that we have seen this hundred years since Drake. But he does not fight like Drake, who with all his faults was a gentleman. Morgan is a freebooter, pure and sim- ple. Wait—there comes some one!” The door clanged open slowly and four men entered. The leader ad- dressed us roughly, asking me if we COMIC OOOKS (C@)