Page:Cup of Gold-1929.djvu/134

But there was one whom he had noticed, a young Frenchman who was called Cœur de Gris. Captain Morgan had seen him in action, leaping about the deck like a supple animal while his rapier flicked out in lithe tongues of silver fire. He scorned a cutlass for the long thin blade. And this young man answered his orders with a smile at Captain Morgan. There was respect in his eyes, surely, but no fear, no jealousy, and no suspicion.

“I wonder if this Cœur de Gris would be my friend,” mused Henry Morgan. “It is said that he has left a trail of broken hearts from Cuba to Saint Kit's, and somehow, for this, I fear him a little.”

Captain Morgan sent for the young man, and when he was come, found difficulty in speaking to him.

“Ah—how are you, Cœur de Gris?”

The young man was overwhelmed by any show of warmth from this captain.

“Why, sir, I am very well. Have you orders for me?”

“Orders? No; I—I thought I would like to talk with you—that is all.”

“To talk with me, sir? But to talk of what?”

“Well— How are the many little loves you are reputed to have?” the captain asked in an uneasy effort at joviality.

“Repute is kinder to me than nature, sir.”

Henry Morgan plunged to his purpose.

“Listen to me, Cœur de Gris! Can you not imagine that I may need a friend? Can you not