“All killed?” Hunter asked, raising his eyebrows. He was not really surprised, but this incident gave him the provocation that Sir James would sorely need to justify the attack on Matanceros.
“I did not witness it,” said Lady Sarah. “But I presume so. I was locked in a cabin. Then Cazalla captured another ship of Englishmen. What befell them, I do not know.”
“I believe,” Hunter said, with a slight bow, “that they made good their escape.”
“Perhaps so,” she said, with no sign of understanding Hunter’s meaning. “And now? What will you vagabonds have with me? I presume I am in the clutches of pirates.”
“Charles Hunter, freeborn privateer, at your service. We are making our way to Port Royal.”
She sighed. “This New World is so tedious. I hardly know whom to believe. You will forgive me if I am suspicious of you.”
“Indeed, madam,” said Hunter, feeling irritation at this prickly woman whose life he had saved. “I merely came below to inquire after your ankle-”
“It is improved much, thank you.”
“-and to ask if you are, ah, otherwise well.”
“Ah yes?” Her eyes flashed. “Do you not rather mean, if the Spaniard had his way with me, so that you can freely follow?”
“Madam, I did not-”
“Well, I can assure you, the Spaniard took nothing from me that was not already missing.” She gave a bitter laugh. “But he did it in his fashion.”
Abruptly, she turned in her chair. She wore a dress of Spanish cut - one she found in the ship - and it had a low back. Hunter saw a series of ugly welts across her shoulders.
She spun back to face him, “Now perhaps you understand,” she said. “Although probably you do not. I have other trophies of my encounter with the Court of Philip in the New World.” She lowered the neckline of her dress a trifle, to reveal a round red mark on one breast. She did it so quickly, so immodestly, that he was taken aback. Hunter could never accustom himself to well-born women from the court of the Merry Monarch who acted like their common counterparts. What must England be like, these days?
She touched the spot. “That is a burn,” she said. “I have others. I fear they will scar. Any husband of mine will know the truth of my past soon enough.” She glared at him defiantly.
“Madam,” he said, “I am pleased to have dispatched the villain on your behalf.”
“That is just like a man!” she said, and began to cry. She sobbed for some moments while Hunter stood, not certain what to do.
“Madam…” he said.
“My breasts were my best feature,” she sniffled, through her tears. “I was the envy of every woman of breeding in London. Don’t you understand anything?”
“Madam please…” Hunter fumbled for a handkerchief, but he had none. He was still wearing his ragged clothes from the attack. He looked around the cabin, found a table napkin, and handed it to her.
She blew her nose loudly.
“I am marked like a common criminal,” she said, still crying. “I shall never be able to wear the fashions of the town again. I am ruined.”
Hunter found her inexplicable. She was alive, and safe, and returning to her uncle. Why was she crying? Her lot was better than it had been in many days. Thinking that she was an ungrateful and inexplicable woman, he merely poured her a glass of wine from a decanter. “Lady Sarah, please do not torment yourself thus.”
She took the wine, and gulped the entire glass in a single long swallow. She sniffled, and sighed.
“After all,” he added, “fashions change.”
At this, she burst into fresh tears. “Men, men, men,” she moaned. “And all because I made a sojourn to visit my uncle. Oh, my poor fate!”
There was a knock on the door, and a seaman stuck his head in. “Begging pardon, Captain, but Mr. Enders says we have landfall within a glass, and then the sea chests to open.”
“I shall be on deck,” Hunter said, and he left the cabin. Lady Sarah burst into tears once more, and he heard her sobbing even as he closed the door behind him.
Chapter 25
THAT NIGHT, ANCHORED in Constantina Bay, in the shadow of a low and scrubby island, the crew voted six of their company to join Hunter and Sanson in the counting of the treasure. This was a serious and solemn business. Although the rest of the crew took the opportunity to become roaring drunk on Spanish rum, the eight men remained sober until accounting was completed.
There were two treasure vaults on Hunter’s ship; the first was opened, and found to contain five chests. The first chest contained pearls, of uneven quality but still extremely valuable. The second chest was heaped with gold escudos, which gleamed dully in the lantern light. The escudos were painstakingly counted, and counted again, before being replaced in the chest. Gold in those days was extremely rare - only one Spanish ship in a hundred carried any - and the privateers were elated. The remaining three chests were filled with silver bars from Mexico. Hunter estimated that the total value of the five chests was more than ten thousand pounds sterling.
In a state of great excitement, the accounting party broke open the second treasure vault. Here they found ten chests, and enthusiasm ran high until the first was opened, to reveal gleaming silver bars with the crown-and- anchor stamp of Peru. But the surface of the bars was multicolored and uneven.
“I don’t like the look of this,” Sanson said.
The other chests were hastily opened. They were all the same, all multicolored silver ingots.
Hunter said, “Call for the Jew.”
Don Diego, squinting in the dark light belowdecks, hiccoughing from Spanish kill-devil, frowned at the silver bars. “This is not good news,” he said slowly. He called for a set of scales, and a cask of water, and for a silver bar from the first treasure vault.
When it was all assembled, the accounting group watched as the Jew placed the Mexican silver bar on one side of the scales and tested various bars of Peruvian silver on the other side until he found one that balanced exactly.
“These will do,” he said, and set the bars of equal weight to one side. He drew the water cask in front of him and submerged the Mexican silver bar first. The water level inside the cask rose. The Jew marked the new level with his dagger blade, cutting a line in the wood.
He removed the Mexican bar and dropped in the Peruvian silver. The water level went higher than his cut mark.
“What does this mean, Don Diego? Is it silver?”
“In part,” the Jew said. “But not entirely. There is some impurity, some other metal, heavier than silver, but of the same color.”
“Is it plumbum?”
“Perhaps. But lead is dull on the surface, and this is not. I warrant that this silver is mixed with platina.”
This news was greeted with groans. Platinum was a worthless metal.
“How much of it is platina, Don Diego?”
“I cannot say. To know exactly I need better measures. I guess as much as half.”
“The damned Dons,” Sanson said. “Not only do they steal from the Indians, they steal from each other. Philip is a poor king to be so openly cheated.”
“All kings are cheated,” Hunter said. “It is in the nature of being a king. But these bars are still worth something - at least ten thousand pounds. We have still captured a great treasure.”
“Aye,” Sanson said. “But think what it might have been.”
There was other treasure to be accounted. The holds of the ships contained household articles, fabrics, logwood, tobacco, and spices such as chili and cloves. All these could be auctioned on the docks of Port Royal, and they would amount, in total, to a substantial sum - perhaps two thousand pounds.
