The Adventures of Tintin (15 page)

An evil grin split Red Rackham’s angular face, and behind his mask an evil gleam was visible in his black eyes. “Not first, no,” he said. “I will start with your men . . .”

“No,” Tintin said, back in the storeroom. “He didn’t!”

Captain Haddock got up and walked around the room as if in a dream. “To save his men, Sir Francis would give up the secret cargo,” he said.

“Where was it?” Tintin asked.

Reaching a bookshelf, Captain Haddock slowly pulled out a book with two fingers, as if he were pulling a secret lever. “Four hundred weight of gold, jewels, and treasure,” he said. “Red Rackham got it all . . . and then he killed every man aboard the
Unicorn
. He made them walk the plank, one and all. The sharks had a feast that night.”

Haddock backed away from the bookshelf, still seeing something no one else in the room could see. He bumped into a table and turned, fixing his attention on an inkwell. “Sir Francis knew he was doomed. He’d be hung from the highest yardarm at dawn, but they didn’t reckon on one thing.” Captain Haddock plucked a quill from the inkwell and pricked his finger with the point. “Sir Francis was a Haddock, and a Haddock always has a trick up his sleeve. The feather in Sir Francis’s hat wasn’t just a feather. It had a blade on the end, and he kept it always in case he would need to cut himself free from pirate ropes.”

Suddenly, Haddock sprang away from the table as if he had just loosened the bonds holding his ancestor to the
Unicorn
’s mast. “He hurls himself forward!” he cried.

With a lightning motion he swept the sword from another surprised soldier’s scabbard. “And seizes a cutlass!”

Then, just as quickly, he stooped and caught Snowy up in one arm, upending him and shaking him. “He makes his way to the ship’s magazine, where they keep the gunpowder and the shot.” He mimicked shaking a trail of gunpowder all the way from the magazine back up the stairs to the deck, using Snowy as his imaginary barrel as he backed up the stairs from the storeroom into an office on the second floor.

Tintin, Lieutenant Delcourt, and the soldiers followed, captivated by the story. Snowy looked to Tintin for help, but Tintin was too caught up to notice him.

“On the deck, Red Rackham finds him. They fight!” Captain Haddock said. Tintin could almost see the events unfold himself . . .

Swords clashed on the deck as Red Rackham and Sir Francis Haddock fought back and forth. Sir Francis defended the trail of gunpowder, Red Rackham tried to stamp it out . . . but how was Sir Francis to light it and still keep Red Rackham’s cutlass out of his chest?

“Ha!” he cried, seeing a chance and taking it. Red Rackham was off balance for a moment and Sir Francis hit a lantern with the flat of his blade. The blow shattered it, and the burning oil fell onto the gunpowder trail. It sparked and hissed to life, adding its smoke to the confusion on the deck. They danced their way toward the stairs that led down to the gun deck, Red Rackham sweeping and stamping at the gunpowder as Sir Francis knocked down lantern after lantern, lighting the trail in a dozen different places.

Red Rackham grew more and more desperate—and in his desperation he grew careless! Sir Francis saw an opportunity, feinting at Red Rackham’s face and then plunging his cutlass under the pirate’s guard to wound him in the side. “Aargh!” Red Rackham cried. He fell back against a mast for support.

Sir Francis slashed at him again, nearly taking his head off, but at the last moment, Red Rackham dodged, and the blade slit the ribbon holding the pirate’s mask over his face.

The mask fell away as the gunpowder trail burned down the stairs toward the magazine . . .

Captain Haddock stopped. “What?” Tintin said. “What happened next?”

Around them, the soldiers leaned close, filling the office from wall to wall. Some of the soldiers had climbed onto Lieutenant Delcourt’s desk to get a better view. They had been stuck out at the Afghar Outpost for a long time, and any show was a good show. Also, this one had pirates, which made it better. Tintin knew that stories were always better if they included pirates.

He also knew that Captain Haddock had been silently staring off into space for too long now for it to be just a dramatic pause. “Captain?” he said. The soldiers crowded closer, hanging on to Captain Haddock’s every word.

“How could I be so blind?” Captain Haddock said.

“What are you talking about?” Tintin asked.

“This isn’t just about the scrolls or the treasure,” Captain Haddock said. “It’s me he’s after!”

“Who?” Tintin asked. “Who’s after you?”

But Captain Haddock wasn’t done with his story yet. The soldiers leaned in closer still; even Lieutenant Delcourt was captivated. His pipe had gone out. The last of its smoke hung over Captain Haddock, who looked as if he were back on the deck of the
Unicorn
himself, facing down his deadly enemy with fire and steel . . .

“You’ll suffer a curse on you and your name, Haddock!” shrieked the unmasked Red Rackham. Fires from the broken lanterns illuminated his scarred face, with its heavy eyebrows and nose like the blade of a knife. He charged, and the two of them tumbled down to the gun deck, separating to resume their sword fight as the gunpowder burned closer and closer to the magazine.

Sir Francis had a plan, and he executed it perfectly. Angling around between two of the
Unicorn
’s guns, he waited until the gunpowder trail had burned the length of the gun deck and disappeared into the short hall leading down to the magazine.

“A curse on your name, Haddock!” Red Rackham screamed. His wound was weakening him, and Sir Francis tipped him a wink as he got closer to one of the gun portholes. “Come back and face me!”

Smoke started to cloud the gun deck. Sir Francis knew he was out of time . . .

“We’re out of time, Tintin!” Captain Haddock screamed. He rushed to Tintin, hoisting him up and carrying him at a run to the second-story window. They crashed through it in a shower of glass, Snowy barking after them. For a moment Tintin felt weightless. Captain Haddock was shouting something in his ear.

They landed with a
whump
in a hay pile between the outbuilding and the nearby stable. Snowy scrambled up next to Tintin as he swiped hay out of his eyes and hair. For a moment Tintin thought Snowy would bite Captain Haddock, but the little dog sat at attention. His ears perked up as Captain Haddock mimed swimming, kicking up a great storm of hay. Tintin almost laughed. Snowy couldn’t wait to hear how the story came out, either . . .

Sir Francis dove through the porthole and swam underwater as far as he could, coming up with a gasp and turning just at the moment when the
Unicorn
’s powder magazine exploded. The entire ship seemed to jump out of the water, then settle back in lower than before. Its stern was engulfed in flames, and it was sinking fast.

My ship
, thought Sir Francis sadly. He climbed onto a drifting mast as a single wave lifted him and let him down again. Sir Francis realized it was the giant ripple kicked up by the explosion that had sunk the
Unicorn
. Wreckage from the explosion was falling from the night sky into the water around him. He held up his hat to protect himself from the rain of debris. And as he floated there, one arm over the mast and the other sheltering his head, he started to hear clinking from the upturned hat.

Sir Francis looked inside his hat when the debris had stopped falling. In the last light of the burning wreckage of the
Unicorn
, he saw the gleam of gold and the glint of gems . . .