Buccaneer Read Online Free Page B

the stifling atmosphere. Scores of candles were adding to the lingering heat of the day, and although the windows stood open, the room was uncomfortably warm. Hector, who had seen the lavishly decorated salons of wealthy Barbary merchants, was surprised by how plainly this reception room was furnished. Although it was some thirty paces long, its plaster walls were bare except for one or two indifferent paintings, and there were no carpets to cover the hardwood floor. The room had a raw, unfinished look as though the owner, having constructed it, had no further interest in making it comfortable or attractive. Then he saw the sideboard. It must have been forty feet in length. It was covered from end to end with refreshments for the guests. There were heaps of oranges, pomegranates, limes, grapes and several varieties of luscious-looking fruit unknown to Hector, as well as massed arrangements of coloured jellies and sugar cakes, rank upon rank of wine bottles, and several large basins of some sort of punch. But it was not the array of exotic food which caught his eye. Every one of the platters, salvers and bowls holding the food and drink, as well as the ladles, tongs and serving implements beside them, appeared to be of solid silver, and if they were not of silver, they were made of gold. It was a breathtakingly vulgar display of bullion.
    No one in the gossiping throng had noticed their entrance. Hector felt Coxon’s hand on his elbow. ‘Stay here until I come to fetch you, and remember what I said . . . not a word to anyone until I have spoken with Sir Henry.’ Hector watched the captain make his way discreetly through the assembly of guests. He was heading towards a group of men in the centre of the gathering. They were standing talking to one another, and it was evident from the space that had been left clear around them, the richness of their dress and their self-confident manner that they were the host and his chief guests. Among them was a tall, thin man with a sallow, almost sickly complexion, dressed in a plum-coloured velvet gown with gold trimming and a full-bottomed wig. He was talking to a fat, red-faced colleague in vaguely military attire who had several decorations pinned to his chest and wore a broad sash of blue silk. All the men in the group were holding glasses, and from their manner Hector guessed they had been drinking heavily. As he watched, Coxon reached the little group and, sidling round until he was next to the taller man, whispered something in his ear. His listener turned and, on seeing Coxon, an expression of irritation crossed his face. He was either annoyed at being interrupted or angered by the sight of Coxon. But the buccaneer stood his ground, and was explaining something, speaking rapidly, making some sort of point. When he stopped, the tall man nodded, turned and looked in Hector’s direction. It was clear that whatever Coxon had been saying, it concerned Hector.
    Coxon pushed his way back to where Hector waited. The buccaneer was flushed and excited, perspiring heavily under his wig, the sore patches on his neck prominent against the paler skin. ‘Sir Henry will see you,’ he said. ‘Look smart now and follow me.’ He turned and began to lead Hector into the centre of the room.
    By now the little exchange had attracted the attention of several guests. Curious glances followed the newcomers’ progress, and a path opened up for them as they walked forward. Hector felt himself light-headed as well as awkward in his borrowed clothes. With chilling certainty he knew that his deception was about to be exposed.
    By the time the two men had reached the centre of the room, the babble of conversation was lessening. A hush had spread among the nearest spectators. The late arrival of two unfamiliar faces must have been some sort of diversion, for people were craning their necks to see what was happening. Coxon came to a halt before the taller man, bowed, and announced with a flourish:
    ‘Sir