And then the tales that he would tell were enough to make a
peaceable man’s hair stand on end. There was not a sea fight, or
marauding or free-booting adventure that had happened within the
last twenty years but he seemed perfectly versed in it. He
delighted to talk of the exploits of the buccaneers in the
West-Indies and on the Spanish Main. How his eyes would glisten
as he described the waylaying of treasure ships, the desperate
fights, yard arm and yard arm—broadside and broad side—the
boarding and capturing of large Spanish galleons! with what
chuckling relish would he describe the descent upon some rich
Spanish colony; the rifling of a church; the sacking of a
convent! You would have thought you heard some gormandizer
dilating upon the roasting a savory goose at Michaelmas as he
described the roasting of some Spanish Don to make him discover
his treasure—a detail given with a minuteness that made every
rich old burgher present turn uncomfortably in his chair. All
this would be told with infinite glee, as if he considered it an
excellent joke; and then he would give such a tyrannical leer in
the face of his next neighbor, that the poor man would be fain to
laugh out of sheer faint-heartedness. If any one, however,
pretended to contradict him in any of his stories he was on fire
in an instant. His very cocked hat assumed a momentary
fierceness, and seemed to resent the contradiction.—“How the
devil should you know as well as I! I tell you it was as I say!”
and he would at the same time let slip a broadside of thundering
oaths and tremendous sea phrases, such as had never been heard
before within those peaceful walls.
Indeed, the worthy burghers began to surmise that he knew more of
these stories than mere hearsay. Day after day their conjectures
concerning him grew more and more wild and fearful. The
strangeness of his manners, the mystery that surrounded him, all
made him something incomprehensible in their eyes. He was a kind
of monster of the deep to them—he was a merman—he was behemoth—he
was leviathan—in short, they knew not what he was.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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