The Guns of Tortuga by Brad Strickland, THOMAS E. FULLER Read Free Book Online Page A

man, who wore an elaborate curled black wig that fell to his shoulders, and a rich brocaded suit in maroons and purples. His face was round, smooth, and pale as an egg. He led us to the dining room, and as my uncle’s servant, I took my place behind his chair when Gille urged his guests to be seated.He whispered something to a servant, and the man scurried out. A few moments later, another man, taller than Gille and slim as a Spanish blade, joined us. He wore a luxuriant silvery white wig and modest snuff-colored clothing, but even had he changed, I would have recognized the mysterious Mr. Meade.
    â€œCaptain Hunter,” said M. Gille in his smooth way, “permit me to introduce Monsieur Robert Meade, my business adviser. I believe he has always ready made the acquaintance of Doctor Shea?”
    â€œMr. Meade has been most helpful,” my uncle said without much expression in his voice. The tall man smiled softly and bowed in acknowledgment.
    Gille nodded amiably. “As you can see, Monsieur Meade is English, like yourselves, though his French is impeccable. I asked him to join us in case there are any little difficulties of language.”
    Meade again politely inclined his head but did not speak, and indeed from that moment he might almost have faded into the woodwork, so quiet did he remain. The meal was a rich one, with many courses, and it went on for more than two hours. My uncle asked if he might have a quick look at hispatient, and M. Gille agreed, though he said, “Later, if you please, after our dinner.”
    For most of the time, the men’s talk was of trivial matters—the weather, the state of shipping, the tension between Spain and England. Finally, though, M. Gille put both of his hands flat upon the table, cleared his throat, and said, “My good friend Monsieur du Pont thought it would be well for us to meet, my dear Captain, and I see that he was correct. Now what I have to say to you must remain confidential. We are men of the world. I am sure you understand.”
    â€œMen of the world, are we?” asked my uncle in so agreeable a voice that I knew he was ready to explode.
    M. Gille apparently did not hear him. He rested his elbows on the arms of his chair and made a tent of his fingers. He tapped them together a few times and then said, “How to explain. My friend, as a merchant and as the adviser of the governor of Tortuga, I have many interests. Shipping is one of them. I do not actually own many vessels, but I concern myself with the welfare of many captains—many captains.” He took a sip of wine. “How shall Iput this? I am the—call it the friend, no, better, the sponsor—of many an enterprising captain, of many a willing crew.”
    M. du Pont had been drinking more wine than the others. He leaned forward with a foolish smile on his fat face. “My friend means that an, uh, independent captain needs protection. Needs a port open and amicable to him. Needs a, how do you say, a refuge at times.”
    â€œA place of safety,” Hunter said with a smile. “A haven to fly to when the—weather turns bad.”
    M. du Pont laughed coarsely. “The weather!
Oui!
When the weather is, let us say, stormy! That is good.”
    Gille did not look at du Pont, but his right eye began to twitch. “Weather is one concern,” he said in a dry voice.
    M. du Pont cut him short: “Listen, my friends! With Monsieur Gille’s help, you can make your fortunes! Tortuga will be always open to you, and you may sell your cargo,
any cargo,
at a handsome profit. He will arrange to have any vessels you do not need sold, for ready money, and for this he takes only a small percentage. There are heaps ofgold to be made from goods taken from merchant ships—salvaged, we could say. Or ransom! Many unfortunate captains who have met with disaster will pay handsomely to be sent home again, or their masters will. Why, even now one such is