Swords From the Sea (40 page)

He tossed up a flask that he carried and someone caught it.

"Allah reward the giver! Are you going to the captain-pasha with an order?"

I could hear Nassau breathing heavily, but John Paul made not a sound. He waited patiently and God put into my head the words of his command spoken on the Vladimir: Ask for the countersign-the admiral wishes to learn it.

"Nay," I made response boldly in their tongue, "we are taking salt to the ship of the captain-pasha."

"But do you know the countersign?"

So far I was following the right path; if I had said we were carrying dis patches they would have expected us to know the password. I began to grunt like a burlak.

"How could we know it? We came from the island."

If I had asked for it they would have felt suspicion. It had not come into their heads that any but friends of the Turks would be here; yet a small stone may make a man stumble.

"The Turks might send bullets through you," they said.

"The -! Then tell us the countersign, so we will not have the bullets."

They talked among themselves, and the vodka gurgled. My throat was beginning to dry up when one flung out careless-

"Stamboul!"

"Stamboul!" I repeated, to make certain, and Paul Jones said one word, the one he always spoke-

"Forward."

I thought he meant to go back, but he steered forward and we went on, passing close, under the ramparts of the great Turkish fort so that we could see the dark patches which were embrasures for cannon. For the last time doubt of John Paul assailed me, and I thought:

"May the dogs eat me! Does he mean to turn over Nassau to the Turks? Is this American playing a double game, after all?"

Nassau's teeth were clicking together, but he dared not say a word for fear of being overheard by the sentries who were visible, when they moved, against the stars.

A great mass towered up over us. This was the Turkish flagship, the one of seventy guns, and as we rounded its prow we saw many lights in the rump of it, and small craft clustered around the ladder. Officers were passing about on the deck, and all was stir and bustle.

"What boat is that? Give the countersign!" a voice hailed us at once.

"Stamboul!" responded John Paul without hesitation.

"What are you about?"

"We are Tatars from the galley," I said, not daring to take time to think. "We came to look at the flagship and the officers."

"May dogs litter on your graves! Don't you skulkers know that all men who stray from their ships are to be shot? The dawn of the day after the morrow the whole fleet advances against the unbelievers."

The sentries on the ship cursed us again, and perhaps they would have loosed muskets at us but refrained for fear of bringing out the officers who were shut up in the after cabins, debating together. We rowed away then and John Paul steered the skiff for quite a while to one side until the oars caught in seaweed and the gleam of phosphorescent salt was to be seen, flickering along the shore. That is what the Russians call it, but we Cossacks know that it is the spirits of the drowned running along the edge of the waves seeking a resting place.

No fort or house was near, and after John Paul had listened a little he made me change places with him. Then he began to speak to Nassau in a low voice.

The prince sprang to his feet and answered vehemently, laughing without any merriment at all. Then he peered at the American, who had begun to take off his coat.

"Sotnik!" Nassau cried, at me. "This foreigner is mad-no doubt of it. After leading me though all the Turkish fleet he threatens me with a duel in a boat. Help me disarm him-seize him from behind."

I caught my breath and stared at the two officers.

"Why should his Excellency, the admiral, wish to fight with your honor?" I asked. "Nay, it is some jest."

This I said to dig out truth behind Nassau's words, for he was a skilled liar. Yet the natures of men appear unmasked in a moment of danger, and the prince was no longer the same officer who sat in Strelsky's room not long ago. His nerves were quivering after the ride through the fleet of the enemy.

"The admiral swears that I have plotted against his honor; he accuses me of hiring men to waylay him. As God is holy, sotnik-"

Nassau stopped, suddenly remembering who I was, and what he had wanted me to do. Strelsky must have confessed the whole affair to John Paul, to shield himself a little; but Nassau believed of course that I had told John Paul of the plot.

"This mad American," he went on while John rolled up his right sleeve, "accuses me of holding Lieutenant Edwards prisoner. What do I know about that? He demands that the Englishman be given back to him. Aid me, Cossack, and a purse of a thousand rubles is yours-nay, ask what you will!"

When he heard me laugh he knew that I would not aid him. Once he glanced at the shore, as if thinking of flight; but the Turks were all around. The soft gleam of the shining salt crust looked like the teeth of a great mouth, open to swallow a man. Ekh, the skin crawled up and down my back!

A little breeze made the boat rock in the scum of seaweed, as if the hands of the dead were reaching up at us. John Paul kept his balance easily, his feet wide apart, the rapier poised in his hand. As I live, not a lance length separated the two, although Nassau had drawn back far into the prow. All at once the prince cursed fiercely and whipped out his blade, thrusting up from the hip like a flash.

He gave no word and no salute, and such was a coward's stroke. Yet John Paul had good eyes and parried. The glow of the stars and the shimmering of the salt made the rapiers visible as they clashed and twisted and ground together, while Nassau panted.

Ekh! That was swordplay! Steel in the dark; blade feeling blade; eye peering into eye; arm straining against arm! The blood boiled in my veins and I was young again. For Nassau was no mean swordsman; nay, a fine hand with the weapon had he, quick and wary and merciless. Neither could draw back. Twice the hilts clashed together, as if the rapiers had been sabers.

Once, John Paul staggered and the skiff swayed. Nassau laughed grimly in triumph, until John Paul caught himself and warded a thrust at the throat, forcing the prince's blade up-up if as if it been an eagle's feather. Eye glared into eye while the blades were locked, and suddenly the American took a step forward.

A great cry came out of Nassau's strained throat and he tumbled out of the skiff into the floating seaweed. I stood up in readiness to leap after him or not-judging him badly wounded-as John Paul should command. He gave no command, but after a moment reached down and caught at something beneath the tangle of weed. It was the arm of the prince that he hauled into the skiff, and after it the body.

He let Nassau lie in the bottom of the boat and presently the injured man began to choke, writhing as if a hundred fiends were in him. He belched out salt water and soon-though it was hard to believe-I heard him whimpering and snuffling like a girl.

I have said that John Paul could be a man of stone. He made no move to staunch Nassau's wound, but sat down in the stern and took the tiller, motioning for me to row back. He steered through the ships of the Turks and found the lights of the Vladimir again. Still he paid no heed to Nas sau, who lay between my legs, often bumped, of necessity, by the oar ends, and shivering, as I could feel.

Flares were lighted as we pulled up to the ladder. John Paul, having donned his coat again, walked up to the deck and was greeted by many officers who stared at him curiously. But they stared more at Nassau, who came up on my arm. His gray-and-gold coat was green with slime; his sword and hat were missing and his wig was somewhere back on the beach for the Turks to wonder at.

He was able to stand, and I saw no blood flowing at any place. Nay, it was long before I understood the truth. Nassau was not hurt. Not in the flesh, not by steel. But his spirit had suffered; something within him had given way that night. He walked to his cabin, speaking to no man.

So it happened that John Paul gave order to hoist his admiral's flag, and though Alexiano grumbled, it was done as he commanded. Then he stood before the officers and spoke, and afterward I asked one of the Russians what he had said. He had told them that the Turkish fleet would advance within hours, and that he would hold a council of the ships' officers in the fleet.

Still Nassau issued no word, and after a while it was clear even to Alexiano that John Paul was in command. He was given a cabin, and, their nature being such, the Russians thronged into it with many compliments and questions on their tongues. Nay, John Paul sent out all except old Ivak. When we were alone and the door shut he sat down in a chair, his cheeks pallid and his eyes burning. With one arm he tried to draw off his coat, until I sprang to his aid and saw for the first time that he was wounded in the upper chest near the armpit. The blood had run down under the coat where it was hidden and had not yet soaked through his breeches.

Together we bound it up, after washing out the hole where Nassau's weapon had entered. The bleeding was all outward and I saw that the American meant to conceal it, because when the bandage was in place he grinned at me and closed one eye-so!

And that, my brothers, is how old Ivak brought an admiral to the Russian fleet. Aye, he was a man, that Pavel, as I like to name him. Deuce take it, he was my kunak, my comrade, a galliard.

What of the battle? Nay, that tale is told by others; how John Paul scattered the Turks and burned their ships and how ill the Russians rewarded him. Am I one to read what men have written in books? I brought a leader to men who lacked a leader, and what honor had I thereby?

One gift was given me. Behold, my brothers, this Damascus dagger, with the gold inlay in the hilt and the writing in jewels. I have been told what that writing says:

Pavel to his friend, the Cossack Ivak.

Who would not be content with such a gift?

Chapter I

For they'll harken to such a man through all the swish and the sweat, Through rattle and rumpus and raps, and the kicks and cuffs that they getThrough the chatter and tread, and the rudders wash, and the dismal clank

Of the shameful chain which forever binds the slave to the bank.

Big Pierre was the last man to leave the bark, except the apprentice lad and the master. Lowering himself by the mizzen chains, he dropped to the river and struck with a resounding smack. He was all of a hundred and ninety pounds of bone and sinew, and he had landed on solid ice.

There was a ladder running from the waist of the bark, but Big Pierre was in a hurry. For one thing, three silver crowns jingled in his pouch, faintly but cheerfully-and he meant to set about the spending of them as quickly as possible. It had taken him a half hour to pry the silver coins out of the master of the bark, who was a Hollander; so the other members of the crew had gone ahead to seek out the taverns of St. Petersburg.

"him for a Dutch dog," muttered the sailor, "who would drink till cockcrow on copper copecks. Bon sang, but it is cold! " He turned his back on the wind that cut through his wool jerkin and short jacket. His greased boots and leather cap were Dutch, but Pierre Pillon was a son of Provence to the core, and he swayed across the slippery ice of the Neva as if it were the wet foredeck of a ship.

Little did he relish the cold breath of the northern seas; he had the swarthy skin and black mustache of the men of Toulon, who live under a blazing sun. His long hair, clubbed with a ribbon at the nape, was yellow as ripe wheat.

His wide, sloping shoulders and corded arms were shaped for strength. His hands were noticeable, being scarred and hooked and swollen. The Dutch skipper had looked at those hands when he paid over the silver, thinking that with them Big Pierre might tear a man's throat out.

At Toulon six months ago Pierre Pillon had shipped on the bark that was bound for Muscovy with wines and hemp. In that autumn of 1787 the river Neva froze early and the pack of the Gulf of Finland came down, putting an end to navigation and catching the bark still at her anchorage.

The master swore in three languages, and set the crew to work, taking in the sails, boarding up the ports, and housing the deck. That morning he let them go ashore with a few coins and the promise of their wages in a week.