Martin Conisby - Page 52/220

"Ah?" said I, sitting up. "You have suffered the torture?"

"Comrade, look at me! The fire, the pulley, the rack, the wheel, the water--there's no devilment they ha'n't tried on this poor carcase o' mine and all by reason of a Spanish nun as bore away with my brother!"

"Your brother?"

"Aye, but 'twas me she loved, for I was younger then and something kinder to the eye. So him they burned, her they buried alive and me they tormented into the wrack ye see. But I escaped wi' my life, the Lord delivered me out o' their bloody hands, which was an ill thing for them, d'ye see, for though I lack my starboard blinker and am somewhat crank i' my spars alow and aloft, I can yet ply whinger and pull trigger rare and apt enough for the rooting out of evil. And where a fairer field for the aforesaid rooting out o' Papishers, Portingales, and the like evil men than this good ship, the Happy Despatch? Aha, messmate, there's many such as I've despatched hot-foot to their master Sathanas, 'twixt then and now. And so 'tis I'm a pirate and so being so do I sing along o' David: 'Blessed be the Lord my strength that teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight.' A rare gift o' words had Davy and for curses none may compare." Hereupon, seating himself on the locker over against me, he thrust a hand into his great side pocket and brought thence a hank of small-cord, a silver-mounted pistol and lastly a small, much battered volume.

"Look'ee, comrade," said he, tapping the worn covers with bony finger, "the Bible is a mighty fine book to fight by; to stir up a man for battle, murder or sudden death it hath no equal and for keeping his hate agin his enemies ever a-burning, there is no book written or ever will be--"

"You talk blasphemy!" quoth I.

"Avast, avast!" cried he. "Here's no blasphemy, thought or word. I love this little Bible o' mine; His meat and drink to me, the friend o' my solitude, my solace in pain, my joy for ever and alway. Some men, being crossed in fortune, hopes, ambition or love, take 'em to drink and the like vanities. I, that suffered all this, took to the Bible and found all my needs betwixt the covers o' this little book. For where shall a wronged man find such a comfortable assurance as this? Hark ye what saith our Psalmist!" Turning over a page or so and lifting one knotted fist aloft, Resolution Day read this: "'I shall bathe my footsteps in the blood of mine enemies and the tongues of the dogs shall be red with the same!' The which," said he, rolling his bright eye at me, "the which is a sweet, pretty fancy for the solace of one hath endured as much as I. Aye, a noble book is Psalms. I know it by heart. List ye to this, now! 'The wicked shall perish and the enemies of the Lord be as the fat of rams, as smoke shall they consume away.' Brother, I've watched 'em so consume many's the time and been the better for't. Hark'ee again: 'They shall be as chaff before the wind. As a snail that melteth they shall every one pass away. Break their teeth in their mouth, O God!' saith Davy, aye and belike did it too, and so have I ere now with a pistol butt. I mind once when we stormed Santa Catalina and the women and children a-screaming in the church which chanced to be afire, I took out my Bible here and read these comfortable words: 'The righteous shall rejoice when he seeth the vengeance, he shall wash his feet in the blood of the wicked so that a man shall say: Verily there is a reward for the righteous.' Aha, brother, for filling a man wi' a gust of hate and battle, there's nought like the Bible. And when a curse is wanted, give me David. Davy was a man of his hands, moreover, and so are you, friend. I watched ye fight on the sand-spit yonder; twelve to one is long enough odds for any man, and yet here's five o' the twelve wi' bones broke and never a one but wi' some mark o' your handiwork to show, which is vastly well, comrade. Joanna's choice is mine, messmate--"