to kill the doctor during the night and had been sentenced to a hundred lashes as punishment, to be witnessed by the whole crew.
'A hundred lashes! But he'll die!' Marianne cried, appalled.
The whites of Toby's eyes rolled. 'He mighty big fellah,' he pronounced. 'But one hund'ed lashes sho' is plenty. He go for to kill dat doctor, sho 'nuff, but ah ain't never known Massa Jason flog no poh darkie afoh!'
'But, Toby, he can't have tried to kill the doctor! Why should he?'
Toby nodded his woolly head. Fear had given his skin a curious greyish tinge.
'Maybe yes. Dat doctor, he bad man. Trouble all de time evah since he come aboa'd! Nathan, he say he gwine sell Kaleb fo' a high price in de market at Candy.'
'You say the doctor means to sell Kaleb? But Monsieur Jason found him and saved him when he was a runaway slave. He would never sell a man who had trusted him!'
'Not in de o'dinar' way, no. But Massa Jason, not hisself no moh… He quite, quite diffe'ent! De bad times is comin' foh us all, ma'm! De good times is all gone now, all'long o' dat Doctor Leighton!'
Toby dragged his feet wearily to the door, his head sunk between his shoulders, wiping away a tear on his white cotton sleeve. There was something deeply moving about the old man's unhappiness. It must be dreadful to him to see a man whom he had loved and served all his life reduced suddenly to the state of a wild beast. Perhaps he even feared for himself…
Marianne detained him just as he was going.
'When – when is it to be?' she asked.
'Now. De hands jus' comin' on deck now.'
Marianne became aware of the patter of dozens of pairs of bare feet on the deck and of the boatswain's voice uttering unintelligible commands. Toby was scarcely out of the cabin before she had leaped out of bed.
'Hurry, Agathe! Get me a dress and some shoes, and a scarf.'
'Oh, my lady, what are you going to do?' the girl wailed, not moving. 'I'm sure you'd much better not get involved! Monsieur Beaufort's taken leave of his senses, my lady, and you must never cross a madman!'
'Mad or not, I'll not let him kill a man who was only trying to defend his freedom, and perhaps his life! Least of all in this barbarous fashion! That Leighton creature isn't worth it! Hurry, now!'
'But what if he's angry with you, my lady?'
'As things are, Agathe, I don't think I've anything to lose! Besides, the two frigates are still with us, I suppose. I can have nothing to fear.'
By the time Marianne came on deck, the crew was already drawn up, facing aft, in a silence broken only by the ghastly sound of the lash biting into unprotected flesh. Punishment had already begun. Swiftly she forced a way through the tight-packed ranks of men. The barrier they formed was almost impenetrable, but Marianne got far enough to see a sight which froze the blood in her veins. Kaleb was triced up to the mizzen rigging. Standing alone, between the rows of seamen on either hand, Pablo Arroyo, armed with a long whip made of thongs of plaited leather, was administering the flogging. In contrast to the assembled men whose faces bore witness to how little they relished the scene and who winced visibly at every stroke of the lash, the boatswain was quite evidently enjoying his revolting office. With his sleeves rolled back from his wiry arms, he was laying into his victim with all his strength, delivering his blows with a slow relish that was clearly aimed at inflicting the greatest possible degree of pain, while his face was twisted into a hideous expression of sadistic cruelty. He was not hurrying. He was savouring every moment, and now and then his tongue appeared between his teeth, as though the man were literally licking his chops.
Blood was already dripping from the lacerated flesh. Kaleb's face, pressed against the wooden mast, was a mask of suffering. His eyes were closed but he did not cry out. Only the faintest groan escaped his set lips each time the lash bit. Drops of blood, bright red in the sunshine, were beginning to splash on to Arroyo's face, but Jason stood impassively on the poop, presiding over the punishment.
He still wore the same, curiously blank expression and the lines in his face were graven deeper than ever. His left hand fidgeted nervously with his neckcloth, while the other was hidden behind his back.
Leighton, at his side, affected a modest demeanour which was belied by the sheer triumph that shone through every line of his pale face.
Suddenly it was clear that the victim was no longer conscious. His body slumped in its bonds and the muscles of his arms stood out with the strain, while his grey face drooped against the mast.
'He's fainted,' said a voice which Marianne recognized as O'Flaherty's. It was harsh with indignation and it acted like a signal on Marianne.
Spurred by the same sense of outrage, she threw herself forward, forging through the packed rows of the crew which parted to let her pass. So great was her impetus that she fetched up close to Arroyo and but for the lieutenant who dragged her sharply back, would have received the lash full in her face.
'What's that woman doing there?' barked Jason, whom the sight of Marianne had apparently roused from his torpor. 'Take her back to her cabin!'
'Not before I've told you what I think!' she screamed, struggling in O'Flaherty's arms. 'How can you stand there and watch a man being done to death before your eyes!'
'He is not being done to death. He's receiving well-deserved punishment.'
'Hypocrite! How many blows like that do you think he can bear and live?'
'He attempted to kill the doctor. He deserves to hang. My only reason for not hanging him is that Dr Leighton interceded for him.'
Marianne gave a crack of laughter.
'Interceded for him, did he? I'm not surprised! I daresay he thought it a shame to kill a man who'd fetch a good price in any of your loathsome markets in human flesh!'
Jason's face darkened with rage and he was about to make a violent reply, when Leighton's cold voice cut in like a knife:
'Precisely. Such a slave is worth a fortune and I am the first to deplore this punishment.'
'I did not bring him from Venice to sell him again,' Jason snapped. 'I'm only carrying out the law of the sea. If he dies of it, so much the worse. You may go on, Arroyo.'
'No! I won't let you! Coward! You're nothing but a coward and a bully! I won't let you!'
The boatswain was already raising his whip again but uncertainly. Anger had given Marianne an added strength which made it almost impossible for the lieutenant to hold her. Around them the men stood staring, fascinated by the raging, wild-eyed woman, too dazed to intervene.
Jason, beside himself, was already springing down from the poop to go to his lieutenant's assistance, when the voice from the masthead cried:
'Captain! The
'Punishment, tell'em!'
'They must have heard the Princess screaming,' O'Flaherty muttered breathlessly. 'With a telescope they can see all that's going on here. Better belay, Captain. Short of knocking her unconscious, we can't keep her quiet, and it's not worth risking a fight, two against one.'
'It's not that I don't want one,' Jason snarled, clenching his fists. 'How many lashes now?'
'Twenty-five.'
Sensing victory within her reach, Marianne had stopped struggling, and was conserving her breath to scream the louder if Jason did not give in.
For a moment, their eyes met, both filled with an equal rage, but it was the privateer's that were the first to fall.
'Cut him down,' he ordered curtly, swinging on his heel. 'But put him in irons. If Dr Leighton is willing to attend him, he can have him.'
'I hope you're proud of yourself, Jason Beaufort!' Marianne cried scornfully. 'I don't know which I admire most: your hospitality or your sense of honour!'
Jason had already turned away, but he paused beside the mizzen-mast where two men were engaged in cutting down the Ethiopian's motionless figure.
'Honour?' he said, with a weary little shrug. 'It's not a word you know the meaning of! As for my hospitality, as you call it, I'd have you know that on board this ship it's called discipline. Those who flout the common law must take the consequences. And now, go back to your cabin. You have no business here, and I may yet forget that
