Scarface (19 page)

Justin pulled viciously at the reins. If he could he would have roweled the stupid beast he bestrode until its flanks were bloody. Little by little he was winning through to the edge of the way which led to the gallows’ point. He paid no heed to the curses and threatenings of those he jostled—for he was right, a rider might win through where a man on foot could not.

Down along the lane he struggled, forcing the roan to the work. He could get a fine view of the gallows and what hung there. And he could also see that the space which had been left for the Judge and the other authorities was empty. Did that mean that for once rumor had spoken true? Had Cheap managed to make good his last threat?

There was a swirl in the crowd and over their heads he could see the red-clad shoulders of soldiers who were pushing
back the mob, making a free space. Those about him were forced to give way and fall back but Justin remained where he was, and was speedily rewarded by a glimpse of Cocklyn, sober-faced and glum.

One thing might have made him so— Justin leaned down to catch at the coat of a man brushing past.

“What has—” he began, but the fellow wrenched free as if he were afraid and thrust on. Only someone else mouthed indistinctly, “Th’ Governor—”

The foremost of the soldiers had almost reached him now, a dozen or so were cleaving a path for a small group of men, four of whom were bending under the burden of a blanket in which lay something long and limp. Justin was out of the saddle at that. One of the guardsmen tried to shoulder him aside but he sent the man off balance with a shove and so reached through to the officer who seemed to be in charge of the procession.

“Is it Sir Robert?” His mouth was dry, so dry that he could hardly form the words.

The man shook loose from his grip. “Have you lost your mind? Sir Robert is back yonder!”

One of the soldiers, perhaps the same one he had pushed aside, now thrust him well away and before he could recover lost ground, the whole cortège had been swallowed up by the crowd. The roan had been swept away and he stood there wondering what to do next.

“Lord, it’s Master Scarlett!” Lieutenant Griffen was at his side. The young officer’s wig was aslant and he carried his gallooned hat in his hand for saftey. “Did you ever lay eye on such a muddle?” he demanded, his expression one
of disgust. “If it were not that His Excellency and the Major have their wits about them there would be lives lost in this business.”

Fearing lest he be swept away again, Justin dared to link fingers in the Lieutenant’s sash.

“Please,” he begged, “tell me what has chanced. Is Sir Robert hurt?”

“Sir Robert? Bless you, no. He’s down there at the point trying to keep some order. And there’s where I want to be also—if it is possible to get there. Keep your hold, Master Scarlett, if you wish to go with me, and we’ll see if two can push better than one.”

It seemed that two might fight back against the stream where one could be swept helplessly along. Foot by foot, using bent elbow and once or twice their fists, they edged along, until, of a sudden, the crowd thinned and for the first time in some minutes they were able to catch a deep breath again.

“We’ve won through,” commented the Lieutenant with satisfaction. “There is His Excellency now, over there with Major Cocklyn.”

But Justin had been struck with an odd shyness which kept him where he was. Sir Robert seemed right enough, his usual calm self in contrast to the red-faced exasperation of those about him. He was giving orders now and Justin noted that those within sound of his voice were moving smartly to obey them. A moment later he caught sight of his son, but his gaze did not linger. Justin might have been any one of the soldiers and planters gathered there. Only when another red-coated squad had been sent
off on some errand Sir Robert moved unhurriedly toward the boy.

“May I ask what brought you hither?” he asked with formal politeness not far removed from sarcasm.

Justin flushed hotly and was then angry because of his confusion. “They said you were hurt,” he muttered.

For a moment there was silence between them, then, “It was enterprising of you to come for the truth,” observed his father. “No, rumor lied, as she usually does. It was Cheap, not I, who caused this great uproar.”

“I was on the ship lookout,” confessed Justin, “and saw him jump free. But what happened after?”

“Cheap’s luck was run out—as he should have known. He tried to dive into the bay and caught his head a knock on the prow of a fishing boat. It snapped his neck as clean as the rope might have done. So he ends with a broken neck after all his contriving—as I warned him these twenty years since.”

So it had been Cheap that the soldiers were bearing away in the blanket. Justin sighed and at the moment felt the touch of Sir Robert’s hand on his shoulder, heard a question rapped out as if he were a guardsman under examination.

“Do you grieve for that man?”

But his bewilderment was plain enough, his astonished face answered for him.

“I beg your pardon for that,” Sir Robert said dryly. “Now get you back to the palace—this sun is not for a fever-ridden man. We shall have time for conversation later.”

Aye, they would have time later. Justin suddenly smiled and, as he had inwardly known he would, his father smiled back.

“Go to, you rogue,” His Excellency added softly. “I’ll have you know that I have an iron hand with pirates.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Justin touched his forehead in a sea-man’s smart salute.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1948 by Harcourt, Brace and Company, Inc.

ISBN: 978-1-4976-5666-6

This edition published in 2014 by Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

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