Pirate Souls

II - Chapter 3 - To sea once more, pirate !

"Who would have thought that it could be so simple?" Cook laughs when I tell him of my discussion with Carpentier in front of a chicken pie in a tavern on Rue Sainte-Anne.

The inn is teeming with drunken soldiers and fleabag dockers whose noses are wedged deep in their tankards. Installed in a corner, near the window, we do not attract attention. In this way I can see the officers coming and going from the government building.

"Not as easy as all that," I reply, annoyed. "The crew is on the level. Some of them won't be bought."

"What do you intend to do?"

"Commandeer the ship, I' faith. And let them believe that this whole story is legal. Carpentier has a pen-pushing contact who works in Vaudreuil's private cabinet. With a bit of luck, he can get us a lettre de marque against the pirates on the Anarkhia."

"All in a day?" He is surprised.

He's right. I too smell a rat.

"Yes, we must leave tomorrow morning by launch for La Balise. Our sloop awaits us there."

"I don't like that fellow Carpentier," he adds, biting into a loaf of bread.

"Neither do I. A scumbag. But Florence is already too far ahead of us."

He grunts. We have no means of knowing which direction she has taken. If she has set sail for the Spanish colonies, I will never find her. We are adding more and more evidence to the charges against us. If we are caught, the gibbet is guaranteed. Theft of a vessel, use of fraudulent documents, embezzlement. And also, my past as a pirate and murderer.

It is actually a stroke of luck that such a misadventure befell me in this fortified city. I have spent much time here and I know the town like the back of my hand. The border of swamps, forests of cypresses and plantations in the North are ideal places to hide illegal wares. It was here that I met Basselin for the first time.

He brought me to his magnificent mansion on one of the rivers that flow into Lake Pontchartrain. Used as I was to the sea, I loved seeing this thick, dense vegetation, teeming with life, insects and animals.

The person piloting the canoe warned us of the crocodiles. I took on a serious expression, but I have to admit that I dreamed of seeing one! I was also excited by the idea of the future encounter. A veiled man had approached me in a tavern to offer me a highly hazardous mission that, according to him, could bring me in a lot of money. Naivety is not one of my vices and I therefore simply told him to get lost. He then advised me to come to Monsieur Basselin's indigo plantation. It was a name I knew. The fortune of this Louisiana fellow is well-established.

We went there, Cook, Nick, Bappé and myself. At the beginning, we believed it to be a holding like so many others, with large numbers of slaves toiling in the fields. And then we saw the house. The house? Master Basselin's mansion. I had never seen such an abode in my life. Big, white and majestic. We crossed the threshold and I was struck by the luxury inside. To see what I had never been entitled to hit me hard in the chest. Warmth, elegance and beauty.

My men and I stood out like a sore thumb in these superb surroundings. Here was everything that I wished to possess. Lace at the windows, oil lamps on the walls, embroidered tablecloths and carpets on the parquet flooring. I, the Irishman, the pirate, ready to damn himself for flowers and doilies. What a joke!

Olivier Basselin received us personally in a small withdrawing room. I settled on a green sofa with black wooden moulding. He outlined the contract to me. I pretended to refuse, just to see if I could raise the price. But he had an argument. He knew. About New Providence. How? I do not know. I had cleaned up before leaving. And I had never again set foot in a colony belonging to the English crown. It would not be an easy task to retrieve the young lady in Charleston.