I was thinking of my assailant in the woods. "Ben was tall. The pirate, who came carving at me, was small."
But Ben Gillam it was, turned pirate or privateer--as you choose to call it--grown to a well-timbered rapscallion with head high in air, jack-boots half-way to his waist, a clanking sword at heel, and a nose too red from rum.
As we landed, he sent his men scattering to the fort, and stood twirling his mustaches till the recognition struck him.
Then he tossed his chin defiantly in air like an unbroken colt disposed to try odds with a master.
"Don't be afraid to land," he called down out of sheer impudence.
"Don't be afraid to have us land," Radisson shouted up to him. "We'll not harm you!"
Ben swore a big oath, fleered a laugh, and kicked the sand with his heels. Raising a hand, he signalled the watchers on the ship.
"Sorry to welcome you in this warlike fashion," said he.
"Glad to welcome you to the domain of His Most Christian Majesty, the King of France," retorted Radisson, leaping ashore.
"Devil take their majesties!" he ejaculated. "He's king who conquers!"
"No need to talk of conquering when one is master already," corrected M. de Radisson.
"Shiver my soul," blurts out Ben, "I haven't a tongue like an eel, but that's what I mean; and I'm king here, and welcome to you, Radisson!"
"And that's what I mean," laughed M. Radisson, with a bow, quietly motioning us to follow ashore. "No need to conquer where one is master, and welcome to you, Captain Gillam!"
And they embraced each other like spider and fly, each with a free hand to his sword-hilt, and a questioning look on the other's face.
Says M. Radisson: "I've seen that ship before!"
Ben laughs awkwardly. "We captured her from a Dutchman," he begins.
"Oh!" says Sieur Radisson. "I meant outside the straits after the storm!"
Gillam's eyes widen. "Were those your ships?" he asks. Then both men laugh.
"Not much to boast in the way of a fleet," taunts Ben.
"Those are the two smallest we have," quickly explains Radisson.
Gillam's face went blank, and M. Radisson's eyes closed to the watchful slit of a cat mouse-hunting.
"Come! Come!" exclaims Ben, with a sudden flare of friendliness, "I am no baby-eater! Put a peg in that! Shiver my soul if this is a way to welcome friends! Come aboard all of you and test the Canary we got in the hold of a fine Spanish galleon last week! Such a top-heavy ship, with sails like a tinker's tatters, you never saw! And her hold running over with Canary and Madeira--oh! Come aboard! Come aboard!" he urged.