The Sea Hawk
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The Sea Hawk is a seafaring adventure set at the end of the sixteenth century. A retired Cornish gentleman is betrayed by his jealous half-brother and ends up a slave on a Spanish galley. He is freed by Barbary pirates and he joins their crew, swearing vengeance on his brother. The pirates name him "Sakr-el-Bahr": The hawk of the sea.
hopes which himself he was very far from entertaining. If her reception of him was not expressedly friendly, neither was it unfriendly. She listened to the hopes he expressed of yet effecting her safe deliverance, and whilst she had no thanks to offer him for the efforts he was to exert on her behalf—accepting them as her absolute due, as the inadequate liquidation of the debt that lay between them—yet there was now none of that aloofness amounting almost to scorn which hitherto had marked her
will grow to be a woman soon and mistress of herself. I am in no desperate haste to get me wed, and by nature—as you may be observing—I am a wondrous patient man. I’ll even wait.” And he pulled at his pipe. “Waiting cannot avail you in this, Sir Oliver. ’T is best you should understand. We are resolved, Sir John and I.” “Are you so? God’s light. Send Sir John to me to tell me of his resolves and I’ll tell him something of mine. Tell him from me, Master Godolphin, that if he will trouble to come
dead and wounded huddled against the vessel’s bulwarks. Grief-stricken his corsairs bore him back aboard the carack. Were he to die then was their victory a barren one indeed. They laid him on a couch prepared for him amidships on the main deck, where the vessel’s pitching was least discomfiting. A Moorish surgeon came to tend him, and pronounced his hurt a grievous one, but not so grievous as to close the gates of hope. This pronouncement gave the corsairs all the assurance they required. It
took his ease. “What is this I hear, O my lord?” she cried, in tone and manner more the European shrew than the submissive Eastern slave. “Is Sakr-el-Bahr to go upon this expedition against the treasure-galley of Spain?” Reclining on his divan he looked her up and down with a languid eye. “Dost know of any better fitted to succeed?” quoth he. “I know of one whom it is my lord’s duty to prefer to that foreign adventurer. One who is entirely faithful and entirely to be trusted. One who does not
had no slave more utter than was I. Yourself in your heartlessness, and in your lack of faith, you broke the golden fetters of that servitude. You’ll find it less easy to break the shackles I now impose upon you.” She smiled her scorn and quiet confidence. He stepped close to her. “You are my slave, do you understand?—bought in the marketplace as I might buy me a mule, a goat, or a camel—and belonging to me body and soul. You are my property, my thing, my chattel, to use or abuse, to cherish or