Commodore Junk

“Sure, and it’s the sun bating ye down ye’ll be havin’,” said Dinny. “Look at that, now!”

Dinny was gazing back at the pile of ancient buildings, and caught sight of a face in the shadow.

“Yes, I am trying to look,” said Humphrey, with a sigh; “but my eyes are not used to the light.”

“Sure, an’ it’s the captin, and he’s kaping his oi on us,” said Dinny to himself. “Well, all right, captain, darlin’! I’m not going to run away.”

“What place is this?”

“Sure, an’ it’s meself don’t know, sor. Mebbe it’s the palace that the American good payple built for Christyphy Columbus. Mebbe,” continued Dinny, “it’s much owlder. Sure, and it shutes the captin, and we all live here whin we don’t live somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” said Humphrey, looking at Dinny wonderingly as he grasped his arm and signed to him to wait and give him breath.

“Well, I mane at say, sor, doing a bit o’ business amongst the ships. Ah, look at her, thin, the darlin’!” he muttered, as a woman appeared for a moment among the lianas, held up her hand quickly to Dinny, and turned away.

“What woman was that!” said Humphrey, hastily.

“Woman, sor!”

“Yes; that woman who kissed her hand to you.”

“An’ did she kiss her hand to me, sor!”

“Yes, man, you must have seen.”

“Sure, an’ it must have been Misthress Greenheys, sor.”

“Mistress Greenheys!”

“A widow lady, sor, whose husband had an accident one day wid his ship and got killed.”

“And you know her!”

“We’ve been getting a little friendly lately,” said Dinny, demurely. “There, sor, you’re getting wake. Sit down on that owld stone in the shade. Bedad, it isn’t illigant, the cutting upon it, for it’s like a shkull, but it’s moighty convanient under that three. That’s better; and I’ll go and ask Bart to bring ye a cigar.”

“No, stop,” said Humphrey. “I want to talk to you, man. That woman’s husband was murdered, then?”

“Murdered! Faix, and that’s thrue. Sure, an’ someone hit him a bit too hard, sor, and he doied.”

“Murdered by these buccaneers!” said Humphrey, excitedly, and he looked wildly around him, when his eye lighted on the trim, picturesque figure of the little woman, who was intently watching them, and he saw her exchange a sign with his companion.

“The key of life – the great motive which moves the world,” said Humphrey to himself; and he turned suddenly on Dinny, who had his hand to his mouth and looked sheepish.

“You love that woman,” he said, sharply.

“Whisht, captin, dear!” said Dinny, softly; and then in a whisper, with a roguish leer, “sure, it isn’t me, sor; it’s the darlin’s took a bit of a fancy to me.”

“Yes, and you love her,” said Humphrey.

“Och, what a way ye have of putting it, sor! Sure, and the poor crittur lost her husband, and she’s been living here iver since, and she isn’t happy, and what could a boy do but thry to comfort her!”

“Are you going to marry her, Dinny?” said Humphrey, after a pause.

“Faix, an’ I would if I had a chance, sor; but there’s two obshticles in the way, and one of ’em’s Black Mazzard.”

“Then, why not take her, Dinny!”

“Tak’ her, sor?”

“Yes; from this wretched place. Escape.”

“Whisht! Don’t say that word aloud again, darlin’, or maybe the captin’ll get to hear. Sure, and I belave that the great big sthone gods shticking up all over the place gets to hear what’s said and whishpers it again to the captin, who always knows everything that goes on.”

“Take her, and help me to escape,” whispered Humphrey, earnestly.

“Whisht, man! Howld your tongue. Is it wanting to see me hanging on one of the trees! Eshcape?”

“Yes. I am a rich man, and if you can get me away I’ll reward you handsomely.”

“Hark at him!” said Dinny, scornfully. “Why, I should have to give up my share of what we’ve got shtored up here. Why, sor, I daresay I’m a richer man than yourself. Eshcape! and after all I’ve shworn.”

Dinny turned away and began cutting a stick.

“Tell me,” said Humphrey, “are there many of my men here?”

“Jist twenty, sor.”

“And how many are there of the pirates!”

Dinny laughed with his eyes half shut.

“Shure, sor, what d’ye tak’ me for? Ye don’t think I’m going to tell ye that!”

Humphrey sighed, and was silent for a time; but an intense desire to know more about the place was burning within him, and he began to question his companion again.

“Are the prisoners in one of these old temples!”

“Yes. On the other side of the big pyrymid yonder, sor; but ye can’t get to them widout going a long way round.”

“Are there many women here besides that Mistress Greenheys?”

“Sure, yis, there is a dozen of ’em, sor. Not half enough, but just enough to kape the min quarrelling; and there’s been no end of bother about the women being kept in the place.”

Chapter Twenty Five

Plans of Escape

Humphrey Armstrong was weaker from his wounds than he believed; but the change from being shut up in the dim temple-chamber with the great stone idol for company to the comparatively free open air of the forest clearing rapidly restored the elasticity of his nature, and gave him ample opportunities for studying the state of affairs.