Pyrates:
A doctor is a most expensive person to acquire the services of, and Butcher Dick being a fellow of but limited pockets and those probably as ragged and airy as the rest of his breeches, I thought it best to seek alternative remedies for the festering wound which ailed him. Of course, the barber-surgeon would be both cheap and convenient, but Butcher Dick seemed most uncommon keen not to visit the fellow, protesting some attachment to his arm despite its current malodorous and offensive state.
I was about to argue the point with him for the good of all concerned when it occurred to me that what he spoke was not perhaps the fevered raving I at first thought, but sound and good economical sense quite creditable in a ship's mate; for if his arm were to be amputated, as would certainly be the remedy of the barber-surgeon, it would then be incumbent upon me to recompense him by some significant sum from the prize of the recently completed voyage for the loss of his limb in service. Clearly some third arrangement whereby he could both keep his arm and pay for the treatment himself would be most to the common good, and I set about arranging it as best I might.
Bearing this financial matter in mind, I bethought me of a native practitioner of herbal remedies of whom I knew, and prepared to seek out one Joseph, a blackamoor guide who is well acquainted with the docks and back-alleys of Port Royal and whatever may be going on in them. I had to do no more than step for'ard to order the readying of the boat for going ashore, for the watch instantly reported the departure of a boat from the shore containing none other than Joseph himself, standing cockily sure in the boat even now skimming towards us.
Calling for a bottle of rum as a welcoming gift, I greeted the cheery negro aboard - only to find the bottle already in his hand before the words had left my lips. Indeed, I think if it were not for their colour and being generally entirely different one from the other in every other way but their capacity for strong liquor, I think that he and my old friend Captain Dryden of the Spirit of Caine might be brothers. Joseph was most sympathetic to our plight (especially when an ill gust of air caught him from the bowels of the ship where Butcher Dick lay) and promised to arrange a meeting with the old herbalist as soon as might be possible.
Some time later, he returned to lead us to a meeting with the old man in his clearing on the very edge of Port Royal - a most notorious difficult place to find without a guide, in my experience. I do believe that the vapours of the jungle can turn a man's head so that he is as if drunk and cannot trace his own steps in a straight line through the foliage no matter how hard he try. However, with the animal instincts of Joseph to lead us safely through the dense vegetation we came safely to our destination.
Old Ben greeted us with some concern for our comrade and said some most fearsome things of the white man's medicine, which I shall pass on to Alfred Carver who was strongly in favour of amputation and offered to do the job himself on the deck. He instantly hustled the hapless Butcher Dick off to perform his ministrations and bade us wait by the clearing edge for his return. Some time passed, in which the friendly natives gave a charming exhibition of their savage dancing, before Dick was returned to us with his arm in a sling and instructions to return in a week for the removal of the herbal bandages with which the arm was swathed.
Highly pleased with this arrangement, which had satisfied both my moral obligations and my financial prudence, I set about disposing of our prize, the sloop Nuesta Señora de Lossario for the sum of 261Gn - not a fortune by any means, but enough when taken with the 350Gn from the Captain's strong-box, and the sale of the wine and tobacco, to allow a few guineas for each man of the crew and more for the officers, in accordance with normal practice.
At the end of a week so spent in arranging our affairs, Dick professed himself much improved, and as we no longer had to approach him with burning matchcord beneath our nostrils we were prepared to allow that it might be true. With hopes for the safe delivery of his limb high, we set off once more under the guidance of Joseph to visit Old Ben. The old fellow was most pleased to see us again and after some time examining Dick's arm pronounced it sound and safe from amputation, for which mercy Dick seemed unusually relieved and keen to repay the old man in whatever way he might. Ben, however, refused his offers of a night of rum and women in one of the low establishments by the docks, requesting instead that we retrieve something for him from a friend of his who had been unable to return it for some reason.
Seeing little harm in such a simple request, we agreed to perform the deed in as short a time as we might manage, and thought we did well out of the deal. The holder of the object to be returned was one Addy Amo, a black servant in the Governor's palace, and the object itself was no more than a little man of black wood; some piece of native craft.
We set off at once for the Governor's palace to inquire of this Addy Amo and where he might be keeping Old Ben's property and we had gone quite some way before it occurred to us that all might not be as easy as it had at first seemed. While I am something by way of being a hero in Port Royal, having saved the city from invasion, conquering and bloody slaughter by the Spaniards time ago, I am not widely recognised for it - or indeed recognised at all. My business partner Walter de Cressingham, who was at the time merely an acquaintance, was accorded all the plaudits for providing the Governor with the same information as I had done the very day before, the salient difference in our testimonies being that I am Dutch, and hence untrustworthy, whereas he is English, and therefore the salt of the earth. Although it does not do to brood on these things and there are advantages to remaining unknown, yet I must be aware that in my present state of societal anonymity I could not approach the gate of the Governor's palace and inquire blythly after one of the Governor's black servants. Still less could it be the task of one of my less reputable companions, Butcher Dick Dewhurst or Bomber Isaac Miller.
This problem necessitated some thought but I am well known as a bright fellow and so it was not long before it occurred to me that there might be some alternative entrance to the palace for the use of such as the servants, who could not be expected to mix with the decent folk at the main door. Accordingly, we scouted round into the back streets, where we came upon just such a humble entrance leading into the kitchens. Taking some care as to who might see us and recognise us in future, we decided to adopt a suitable guise before entering and so we departed to make our preparations.
There is a class of man who by patronage may pass all locked doors, whether it be in the lowliest house or even in the dwellings of the rich and famous where there is often some wretched unwanted vermin to be quietly disposed of, and so we declared our intention to each other to appear as dispatchers of the inconvenient, or, upon this occasion, rat catchers. It was no great trial to equip ourselves with wooden cudgels and a string or two of skinned rats as advertisement of our trade, and I adopted a mode of dress more akin to that of my companions. So attired, we made straightway for the kitchens of the Governor's palace.
Arriving there shortly, we made our bluff entry and while Dick dallied with the scullery maids in pleasant banter, I inquired after my old friend Addy, whom I had not heard from for some time. I was informed with sorrow that Addy was most unwell, and had been so for several days, with an unpleasant plague which had laid him in his bed and with no great certainty of his recovery. So concerned was the Governor, who it appeared held Addy in some value as a capable and trustworthy servant, that he had called in his own Doctor, Cantly Quacksilver, to see to the ailing black. I was struck with the notion that the ailment might be in some way caused by his failure to return the graven image to our herbalist acquaintance, and so I was the more determined to see the invalid, despite the protestations of the serving wenches who cried that I should catch the evil fever if I absorbed the vapours of the ill man's room. Seeking directions to his sickbed, I made my way there with great haste, and I was fortunate to arrive just in time.
In the bed lay a black man who smelled most foul and looked to be at death's door. He woke staring wildly but sightlessly as I entered and muttered painfully and without sense as I asked how he might be and introduced myself as a friend of Old Ben. Endeavouring to extract some sense from his fevered moanings, I asked him where the figure was hidden (for I had inspected the room with a glance as I entered and it was nowhere to be seen). At that, he sat up with a shriek and cried "The Doctor has it!", then fell back to the rank pillows and moved no more. After confirming that the unfortunate negro had just expired before my eyes, I determined that no more good could be done here and left immediately, collecting Dick and Isaac on my way. Not wishing to be blamed for the negro's death, we made great haste out of that place, and changed immediately back into our own clothes before considering what to do next.
It was plain that the Doctor must have the idol, for we had the word of a dying man on the matter and dying men do not lie - in which respect they are much more reliable witnesses than common men, and so I reason that the killing of all witnesses is the best way to achieve the discovery of the truth. In faith, I have heard that there are many who do agree with me on that point, but as so often is the case, they are not the fellows who make official policy on such matters. The world is, as ever, in a sorry state. However, we had little trouble in believing Addy Amo's words anyway, for despite their gentlemanly posturing there are no greater dishonest thieves than doctors, who will charge a man an arm and a leg for telling them that they should have gone straight to the barber-surgeon to have them removed anyway. Certain that we would find the figurine at the Doctors dwelling, we set off in a new guise to see what the Doctor might have to say for himself.
Hiring a carriage to lend weight to my affectation, I presented myself to the Doctor's manservant as a Dutchman recently come from the Old World and declared that I wished to consult Doctor Quacksilver on the matter of my ticklish liver, while Dick and Isaac made the best of it in the position of my servants. However, it appeared that the Doctor was about his business in the town with some outbreak of sickness which was causing much trouble in the wealthy quarters, and so as the day was wearing on I agreed to return the next morning.
As we made our way to the carriage owner's in the morning to reclaim the carriage for the day's use, I was surprised to be jostled and then attacked by some ruffian who smelled strongly of the fever which had laid poor Addy low. With a presence of mind born of spending several years in the wrong parts of Port Royal, I disengaged from his grasping embrace and discharged my pistols into him from short range. My two bodyguards finished the job with their blades, and we quickly went our way before attracting any more attention than was unavoidable. Although as a gentleman my motives would not be questioned in ridding the world of this gutter dweller, I had no wish for my face or person to be noted. We did not take time to investigate the body but if it was not dead before it was dead by the time we had finished.
Without further ado, we hired the carriage once more and made for the Doctor's residence, but it was still later than we had intended when we arrived and we were not his first visitors, for Dick and Isaac (who were driving me) saw a band of men leaving as we arrived.
I entered once more to be greeted by the Doctor's manservant, as apparently the Doctor had already set out to make a house call, with which I was not best pleased, but I bit my tongue and inquired as to where he might have gone, as it was now urgent that I locate him due to the demands of my ticklish liver.
Armed with the knowledge that Sir Henry Bath, the Naval Commander of Port Royal, had been taken seriously ill by the mysterious ailment plaguing the city we made for the Bath residence, only to be met by ill manners from a knave at the door who obviously did not think highly of Dutchmen. However, I left my best wishes for Sir Henry and his speedy recovery in the name of Pieter van Rijn and proceeded to the next house attended by the Doctor, who had apparently been called from Sir Henry Bath's house to the more humble residence of Peter May, a merchant who was desperately ill.
Knowing where Peter May's house lay (having performed some business for him in the past) I was able to make my way there with great speed, directing the driving from within the carriage. Our efforts at speed were redoubled when we chanced to pass the same group of ruffians whom Dick and Isaac had spotted leaving Doctor Quacksilver's surgery earlier - for seeing them myself, I knew the man at their head to be one Captain Delgado: a Spaniard and hence a man who could certainly be up to no good.
By virtue of speedy driving and a downhill gradient (for his premises were nearer to the docks than the house of Sir Henry) we came to the house of Peter May in good time and found that the doctor was still present. I was admitted by the brutes at the door as I explained that it was urgent I see the doctor, and I sought him out while Dick and Isaac waited outside in the carriage.
Introducing myself as Kaptein van der Vekken, I tried to impress upon the doctor that he was in some danger from a band of ruffians who intended to attack and abduct him (for such I presumed to be the aim of Captain Delgado and his henchmen), but the doctor unfortunately mistook my words and proceeded to belabour me about the head with his weighted cane, crying "Assassin!", so that I was seized by the bodyguards present, beaten and ejected forcefully into the street, as it sometimes appears is the common treatment of honest Dutchmen in these parts whether they be in favour with the English or no.
Even as I picked myself up and made to rejoin the carriage where Dick and Isaac were waiting, the entourage of Captain Delgado arrived and entered the house. Delaying our departure a little, we watched to see what might develop and were witnesses to the re-emergence of one of Delgado's gang a moment or two later to order a carriage for the Doctor. As the small boy paid to fetch the carriage sped off and the thug re-entered the house, we saw our opportunity to rescue something from our unsatisfactory situation and manouevred across the street to wait outside Peter May's house. Dick knocked smartly on the door and announced the arrival of the carriage, which was greeted with pleasure at our punctuality, and after a moment or two the carriage door was opened and the limp body of the doctor thrust into my waiting arms. Immediately I gave the signal to depart, and Dick whipped the horses away while Isaac slammed the door shut before the face of the shocked thug who only that moment recognised to whom he had delivered the doctor!
Naturally, we could not attain our full speed immediately from a standing start and some of Delgado's more level-headed men were able to discharge their pieces at us as we departed, but none of us was struck and we quickly careered around the first corner and away...