IX.
Four days later, while there was still a hint of the past night's coolness in the morning air, three persons arrived from the jungled mountains at the gate of the governor's house on Fort Royal Hill. They were Peter Griffon and Big Tom and Sailor Penny's man Henry.
Peter wore decent clothes, including a skirted coat and a three-cocked hat, and a hanger with brass hilt and shark-skin grip in a scabbard of black leather. But for the features and expression of his thin face, the cool superiority of his level glance—which was the thing that had driven Caleb Stave to black rage many a time—and the carriage of his back and shoulders, he might have passed for the master of some trafficking bark or brig. Big Tom's costume was neither noteworthy nor elaborate—just breeches cut and stitched up from an old sail and a floppy hat of his own weaving. The clever Henry was in his favorite disguise of an old mammy sweet seller, wooden tray and all.
They had come with the reluctant consent of Sailor Penny. The old man had worn himself into a fever with futile rage and impotent arguments against the iron of Griffon's purpose. At last he had given in, though with bitter sneers and predictions of disaster. What else could he do? This young fool was a Griffon of Berkshire, and the stubborn girl was a Penny, and now all his ambitions and longings were centered in these two—his dreams and heartaches for the green downs and groves of his youth and for peace and gentility in his old age.
Yes, that tough and battered survivor of scores of questionable ventures, who had been half a gentleman in his youth, longed now to become wholly a gentleman by the might of wealth and the magic of the name of Griffon. Young Griffon's will had beaten him at last; and now more than half his wealth was gone for a surety, and all of it was risked, and fever boiled his blood.
"I have business with the governor," said Griffon to the sentry at the gate.
The sentry was quite obviously not a soldier but a seaman. He was not armed with a musket, nor with a bayonet heeled with a wooden plug to fix into the muzzle of a musket, but with a cutlass in his hand and two pistols in his belt. He gave Griffon a queer, questioning look. He turned his head and whistled, and was joined in a moment by two other fellows of unmistakable salty character.
"'E 'as business wi' the governor," he told them.
Then all three regarded Griffon and his companions strangely.
"I am here to see the governor on an important matter," announced Griffon with dignity.
Another seaman joined the group, a bo'sun this with a silver call dangling from his neck on a lanyard. He had heard Griffon's second statement of his business. He treated Griffon and Big Tom and Henry to swift but searching glances. He pulled a forelock to Griffon, whispered a few words in the sentry's ear, then requested Griffon politely to follow him.
He led the way across a narrow1 court, into the big house, along a narrow hall nagged with gray stone. He rapped on a tall mahogany door, opened it, bowed Griffon across the threshold and entered close at his heels. He closed the door behind them, but kept a hand on the knob.
"A gentleman wi' important business wi' the governor, sir," he said, and there was a suggestion in both voice and manner of extraordinary significance in the statement and of lively expectation concerning the effect of it on the person addressed.
The room was not large, but it was of an imposing height. Four tall windows in one wall, partially shuttered, looked out over the town and the harbor. The room was unfurnished save for a large table at which sat a gentleman of red and weathered visage, high-nosed, baldish, with epaulets on the shoulders of his blue coat. The gentleman's coat was open from chin to waist, disclosing linen of the whitest and finest. On the desk lay several rolled charts or maps, many documents both open and folded, a bow-wig, a silver-hilted sword in a scabbard of varnished black leather and a number of books.
The gentleman's glance was on Griffon's face. It had been there, unwavering, since the moment of the opening of the door.
"Ah, with the governor," he said, and laid aside his pen and continued to regard the young man.
Griffon bowed. "Have I the honor to address the governor?" he asked.
"You do not know him, then?" queried the other.
"I have seen him, sir, but never close at hand. He looked shorter than yourself."
"True. I am performing his duties for the time being. I am the commander of the frigate in the harbor. Colonel Harran is indisposed. You have but recently come to port, I take it."
"I am from the hills. My business is private rather than official, I think; but I shall gladly dispose of it here and now, sir, with your permission."
"What is the nature of your business?"
"It concerns stolen property of great value."
The acting governor's eyes widened.
"You are either a very brave man or an impudent fool," he said.
"I lack neither courage nor an easy conscience," replied Griffon. "A fortune in jewels was robbed from the governor, from this very house, by a fellow named Stave, a ship's chandler, who did business in Crabhole Alley. Stave himself was soon afterward robbed of it, along with his own strong box, by a worthy fellow who had been outlawed and ruined by him many years ago. I have persuaded that worthy fellow to allow me to return the jewels to the governor."
The acting governor was now on his feet, leaning forward eagerly halfway across the littered table.
"What are these jewels?" he asked.
"Diamonds and pearls and rubies of astounding value."
"And you are come with the intention of returning them to Colonel Harran?"
"As you see, sir. To him or his deputy. To the governor."
Griffon put a hand to his throat, pulled upward on a string and brought a little bag of soft yellow leather into view. He drew the loop of string over his head, stepped forward to the table and laid the bag before the acting governor. The bo'sun advanced with him, close at his elbow, and halted with him. The acting governor untied the mouth of the bag and shook onto the table a handful of unset diamonds and rubies and a necklace of great pearls. He stared at them. The fellow at Griffon's elbow trembled.
"And those are not all," said Griffon, producing two more little bags from a pocket of his coat, and emptying them on the table. "There is gold also, which is outside with my fellows."
"Who are you?" cried the acting governor.
"I am Peter Griffon, only son of the late Edward Griffon of Danes's Ride and High Hall and Griffonstun in Berkshire, knight and one time master of the horse."
"Griffon of Berkshire! How come you here—and with these?"
"It is a long story, sir."
During the telling, the acting governor expressed sympathy and astonishment with frequent oaths; and at the conclusion he grasped the younger man's hand in both of his. He called for wine and for another chair. He wrote a proclamation which set Peter Griffon, esquire, and Richard Penny, yeoman and mariner, free of all fear of the law, and brief documents which made "free blacks" of Big Tom and Henry.
"I will give you letters to his royal highness, which I advise you to deliver in person immediately upon reaching England," he said. "The reward, I promise you, will be princely. Both his majesty and his royal highness are the souls of generosity and justice."
"The reward?" queried Griffon.
"These are royal jewels," replied the other. "They were stolen from Windsor fully eighteen months ago and carried out of the Thames in a bark bound for Lisbon."
"How came they here?"
"A king's ship chased her to the westward, where she fell in with another of her own kidney and was soundly drubbed and stripped to the keel. These pirates sometimes prey upon one another, fortunately."
"But how came they into the governor's hands?"
"The late governor of this island—I hanged him at my own yardarm, so there can be no doubt of his demise—was, I regret to say, a blasted pirate."
"A pirate! The governor!"
"It is too true. The late sovereign made a number of mistakes to the detriment of England's fair fame, both public and private; but his majesty is the soul of integrity and justice. The wine is at your elbow, Master Griffon."
THE END