side of the neck. Hiram could not keep his eyes from this mark
and the white scar cutting across it.
There was an odd sort of incongruity in Levi's dress; a pair of
heavy gold earrings and a dirty red
handkerchief knotted loosely
around his neck, beneath an open
collar, displaying to its full
length the lean, sinewy
throat with its bony "Adam's apple," gave
to his
costume somewhat the smack of a sailor. He wore a coat
that had once been of fine plum color--now stained and faded--too
small for his lean length, and furbished with tarnished lace.
Dirty cambric cuffs hung at his wrists and on his fingers were
half a dozen and more rings, set with stones that shone, and
glistened, and twinkled in the light of the fire. The hair at
either
temple was twisted into a Spanish curl, plastered flat to
the cheek, and a plaited queue hung halfway down his back.
Hiram,
speaking never a word, sat
motionless, his dull little
eyes traveling slowly up and down and around and around his
stepbrother's person.
Levi did not seem to notice his scrutiny, leaning forward, now
with his palms spread out to the
gratefulwarmth, now rubbing
them slowly together. But at last he suddenly whirled his chair
around, rasping on the floor, and faced his stepbrother. He
thrust his hand into his
capacious coat pocket and brought out a
pipe which he proceeded to fill from a skin of
tobacco. "Well,
Hi," said he, "d'ye see I've come back home again?"
"Thought you was dead," said Hiram, dully.
Levi laughed, then he drew a red-hot coal out of the fire, put it
upon the bowl of the pipe and began puffing out clouds of pungent
smoke. "Nay, nay," said he; "not dead--not dead by odds. But
[puff] by the Eternal Holy, Hi, I played many a close game [puff]
with old Davy Jones, for all that."
Hiram's look turned inquiringly toward the jagged scar and Levi
caught the slow glance. "You're lookin' at this," said he,
running his finger down the
crooked seam. "That looks bad, but
it wasn't so close as this"- -laying his hand for a moment upon
the livid stain. "A cooly devil off Singapore gave me that cut
when we fell foul of an opium junk in the China Sea four years
ago last September. This,"
touching the disfiguring blue patch
again, "was a closer miss, Hi. A Spanish captain fired a
pistolat me down off Santa Catharina. He was so nigh that the powder
went under the skin and it'll never come out again. ----his
eyes--he had better have fired the
pistol into his own head that
morning. But never mind that. I
reckon I'm changed, ain't I,
Hi?"
He took his pipe out of his mouth and looked inquiringly at
Hiram, who nodded.
Levi laughed. "Devil doubt it," said he, "but whether I'm
changed or no, I'll take my affidavy that you are the same old
half-witted Hi that you used to be. I remember dad used to say
that you hadn't no more than enough wits to keep you out of the
rain. And, talking of dad, Hi, I hearn tell he's been dead now
these nine years gone. D'ye know what I've come home for?"
Hiram shook his head.
"I've come for that five hundred pounds that dad left me when he
died, for I hearn tell of that, too."
Hiram sat quite still for a second or two and then he said, "I
put that money out to
venture and lost it all."
Levi's face fell and he took his pipe out of his mouth, regarding
Hiram
sharply and
keenly. "What d'ye mean?" said he
presently.
"I thought you was dead--and I put--seven hundred pounds--into
Nancy Lee- -and Blueskin burned her--off Currituck"
"Burned her off Currituck!"
repeated Levi. Then suddenly a light
seemed to break upon his
comprehension. "Burned by Blueskin!" he
repeated, and
thereupon flung himself back in his chair and
burst into a short,
boisterous fit of
laughter. "Well, by the
Holy Eternal, Hi, if that isn't a piece of your tarnal luck.
Burned by Blueskin, was it?" He paused for a moment, as though
turning it over in his mind. Then he laughed again. "All the
same," said he
presently, "d'ye see, I can't suffer for
Blueskin's
doings. The money was willed to me, fair and true,
and you have got to pay it, Hiram White, burn or sink, Blueskin
or no Blueskin." Again he puffed for a moment or two in
reflective silence. "All the same, Hi," said he, once more
resuming the thread of talk, "I don't
reckon to be too hard on
you. You be only half-witted, anyway, and I sha'n't be too hard
on you. I give you a month to raise that money, and while you're
doing it I'll jest hang around here. I've been in trouble, Hi,
d'ye see. I'm under a cloud and so I want to keep here, as quiet
as may be. I'll tell ye how it came about: I had a set-to with a
land
pirate in Philadelphia, and somebody got hurt. That's the
reason I'm here now, and don't you say anything about it. Do you
understand?"
Hiram opened his lips as though it was his
intent to answer, then
seemed to think better of it and
contented himself by nodding his
head.
That Thursday night was the first for a six-month that Hiram
White did not
scrape his feet clean at Billy Martin's doorstep.
VI
Within a week Levi West had pretty well established himself among
his old friends and acquaintances, though upon a different
footing from that of nine years before, for this was a very
different Levi from that other. Nevertheless, he was none the
less popular in the barroom of the
tavern and at the country
store, where he was always the center of a group of loungers. His
nine years seemed to have been
crowded full of the wildest of
wild ad
ventures and
happenings, as well by land as by sea, and,
given an
appreciativeaudience, he would reel off his yarns by
the hour, in a
reckless, devil-may-care fashion that set agape
even old sea dogs who had sailed the
western ocean since
boyhood. Then he seemed always to have plenty of money, and he
loved to spend it at the
tavern tap-room, with a lavishness that
was at once the wonder and
admiration of gossips.
At that time, as was said, Blueskin was the one engrossing topic
of talk, and it added not a little to Levi's
prestige when it was
found that he had
actually often seen that
bloody, devilish
pirate with his own eyes. A great, heavy, burly fellow, Levi said
he was, with a beard as black as a hat--a devil with his sword
and
pistolafloat, but not so black as he was painted when
ashore. He told of many ad
ventures in which Blueskin figured and
was then always listened to with more than usual gaping interest.
As for Blueskin, the quiet way in which the
pirates conducted
themselves at Indian River almost made the Lewes folk forget what
he could do when the occasion called. They almost ceased to
remember that poor shattered
schooner that had crawled with its
ghastly dead and groaning wounded into the harbor a couple of
weeks since. But if for a while they forgot who or what Blueskin
was, it was not for long.
One day a bark from Bristol, bound for Cuba and laden with a
valuable cargo of cloth stuffs and silks, put into Lewes harbor
to take in water. The captain himself came
ashore and was at the
tavern for two or three hours. It happened that Levi was there
and that the talk was of Blueskin. The English captain, a
grizzled old sea dog, listened to Levi's yarns with not a little
contempt. He had, he said, sailed in the China Sea and the
Indian Ocean too long to be afraid of any hog-eating Yankee
pirate such as this Blueskin. A junk full of coolies armed with
stink-pots was something to speak of, but who ever heard of the
likes of Blueskin falling afoul of anything more than a Spanish
canoe or a Yankee coaster?
Levi grinned. "All the same, my hearty," said he, "if I was you
I'd give Blueskin a wide berth. I hear that he's cleaned the
vessel that was careened
awhile ago, and mebby he'll give you a
little trouble if you come too nigh him."
To this the Englishman only answered that Blueskin might be----,
and that the next afternoon, wind and weather permitting, he
intended to heave
anchor and run out to sea.
Levi laughed again. "I wish I might be here to see what'll
happen," said he, "but I'm going up the river to-night to see a
gal and mebby won't be back again for three or four days."
The next afternoon the English bark set sail as the captain
promised, and that night Lewes town was awake until almost
morning, gazing at a broad red glare that lighted up the sky away
toward the
southeast. Two days afterward a negro oysterman came
up from Indian River with news that the
pirates were lying off
the inlet, bringing
ashore bales of goods from their larger
vessel and piling the same upon the beach under tarpaulins. He
said that it was known down at Indian River that Blueskin had
fallen afoul of an English bark, had burned her and had murdered
the captain and all but three of the crew, who had joined with
the
pirates.
The
excitement over this terrible
happening had only begun to
subside when another occurred to cap it. One afternoon a ship's
boat, in which were five men and two women, came rowing into
Lewes harbor. It was the longboat of the Charleston packet,
bound for New York, and was commanded by the first mate. The
packet had been attacked and captured by the
pirates about ten
leagues south by east of Cape Henlopen. The
pirates had come
aboard of them at night and no
resistance had been offered.
Perhaps it was that circumstance that saved the lives of all, for
no murder or
violence had been done. Nevertheless, officers,
passengers and crew had been stripped of everything of value and
set adrift in the boats and the ship herself had been burned. The
longboat had become separated from the others during the night
and had sighted Henlopen a little after sunrise.
It may be here said that Squire Hall made out a report of these
two occurrences and sent it up to Philadelphia by the mate of the
packet. But for some reason it was nearly four weeks before a
sloop of war was sent around from New York. In the meanwhile,
the
pirates had disposed of the booty stored under the tarpaulins
on the beach at Indian River inlet,
shipping some of it away in
two small sloops and sending the rest by wagons somewhere up the
country.
VII
Levi had told the English captain that he was going up-country to
visit one of his lady friends. He was gone nearly two weeks.
Then once more he appeared, as suddenly, as
unexpectedly, as he
had done when he first returned to Lewes. Hiram was sitting at
supper when the door opened and Levi walked in,
hanging up his
hat behind the door as unconcernedly as though he had only been
gone an hour. He was in an ugly, lowering humor and sat himself
down at the table without uttering a word, resting his chin upon
his clenched fist and glowering fixedly at the corn cake while
Dinah fetched him a plate and knife and fork.
His coming seemed to have taken away all of Hiram's
appetite. He
pushed away his plate and sat staring at his stepbrother, who
presently fell to at the bacon and eggs like a famished wolf. Not
a word was said until Levi had ended his meal and filled his
pipe. "Look'ee, Hiram," said he, as he stooped over the fire and
raked out a hot coal. "Look'ee, Hiram! I've been to
Philadelphia, d'ye see, a-settlin' up that trouble I told you
about when I first come home. D'ye understand? D'ye remember?
D'ye get it through your skull?" He looked around over his
shoulder,
waiting as though for an answer. But getting none, he
continued: "I expect two gentlemen here from Philadelphia
to-night. They're friends of mine and are coming to talk over the
business and ye needn't stay at home, Hi. You can go out
somewhere, d'ye understand?" And then he added with a grin, "Ye
can go to see Sally."
Hiram pushed back his chair and arose. He leaned with his back
against the side of the
fireplace. "I'll stay at home," said he
presently.
"But I don't want you to stay at home, Hi," said Levi. "We'll