The Tragical History of Captain Sparrow
Chapter One: In Which Captain Sparrow Is Astonished To Find a Companion As Miserable As Himself
The gale outside was raising a howling din akin to a pack of baying wolves and rattling the none-too-solid clapboard foundations of the pub as a gangly, ill-favoured fellow wearing a tri-cornered leather hat and sporting a bizarrely beaded beard sat down and ordered a pint of ale. The bartender, glancing at his downcast face, assumed an air of paternal concern:
"Captain Jack Sparrow! What's got ye in such a mood? I sware that ye've the look of a chap as has been keel-hauled!"
Jack Sparrow glowered. "I warrant that a keel-hauling would feel pleasant compared to what – " He stopped and maintained a stony silence, indicating a desire to nurse his alcohol and meditate in solitude. As the bartender sidled away, the gloomy pirate began to consider the events of the last few months: his foolish bargain with Davy Jones, the foolish terms of the bargain, and the still more foolish fact that he was none too eager to follow up on those terms. He ventured a glance at the palm of his hand and shuddered at the inky dark mark that lay spread thereupon: the symbol of his terrible pact. With a groan, he looked away: ah, what could any man do – in such a black spot?
The door to the pub was flung open with a violent sound that caused both the pirate and the bartender to start and glance up. From out of the tempestuous darkness without, they both beheld two figures attired in dark cloaks enter the little tavern, shaking the rain as best they could from off their damp garments.
"Mine Host – a tankard of mead and two flasks, if you would be so good," one of the men, the taller of the two, requested in a voice of a rich and resonant timbre.
The bartender bowed low and departed into the back as the two strangers seated themselves before the countertop, quite close to Captain Sparrow. He continued to watch them curiously with little respect for the usual rules of polite indifference that one ought to observe in the case of total strangers. The stranger who sat closest, a man of medium-height with something of a beard at his chin and a pair of miniscule golden spectacles perched atop his nose, at last happened to notice the great interest that the pirate was taking in his presence and turned to meet Captain Sparrow's impolite scrutiny.
"Do you perhaps take me for some former acquaintance?" he inquired.
Jack Sparrow shook his head. "I don't have anything else to do tonight – and watching strangers takes my mind off of my other troubles."
The stranger chuckled. "You must be in a sorry spot indeed if my friend and I are your only respite!"
Jack wished that the man hadn't brought up 'spots.' "It's nothing that I can't get out of with a little work," he replied with a little more bravado than he actually felt.
"That's the spirit!" the stranger exclaimed. "But I deplore speaking with a man before I am fully acquainted with him. Allow me to introduce myself: I am Doctor Ignatius and this is..."
As the good doctor seemed to have momentarily forgotten his companion's name, his friend swiftly stepped in. "Theophilus at your service, sir," he said with a smile like the gleaming of ice. There was a quality to his piercing gaze that was full of both a consuming weariness and a keen, discerning penetration that put Captain Sparrow little at ease. About his lips as well, there lay the delicate traces of a strange bitterness akin to the expression of a man whose tongue has tasted of wormwood and gall.
Jack shook Dr. Ignatius's hand rather limply and shifted his glance towards Theophilus, returning the latter's introduction with a half-hearted smile.
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack at last said. "And I'm in the sort of trouble that I hope neither of you will ever find yourselves in."
"You've pricked my curiosity," Theophilus said. "Why don't you tell us about it? Perhaps we can help you."
"I doubt that," Jack Sparrow muttered, but – whether it was due to the ale or something else – he divulged his entire life history to the two strangers in less than a quarter of an hour.
After he had finished, both Dr. Ignatius and Theophilus appeared profoundly concerned. "Poor fellow!" Dr. Ignatius wiped his spectacles. "What a spot!"
"Indeed," Theophilus rejoined. "Though I shouldn't call it an entirely hopeless situation."
"What do you mean?" Jack blinked. "You both believe me?"
"Why not?" Dr. Ignatius appeared surprised. "I thought the Flying Dutchman was common knowledge!"
"You would be surprised how often these sorts of things happen – and to fellows even less imprudent than yourself," Theophilus added.
"Then you both can help me?" Jack started at the opportunity.
Dr. Ignatius and Theophilus exchanged glances pregnant with meaning.
"I don't see why not…" the doctor said at last, his eyes still upon his companion rather than the pirate. "That is, if you'll agree to give us berth upon your ship. I guarantee that nothing shall befall you whilst we are on board."
A feeling of relief utterly suffused the pirate's heart and he stood up. "Then the two of you have a place upon the Black Pearl. We set sail tomorrow – but not until your arrival."
"Thank you, my good fellow," Dr. Ignatius replied as Theophilus clasped Jack Sparrow's hand with a smile that warmed as much as his former countenance had chilled.
"We shall be there," Theophilus assured him.
After Captain Sparrow had departed from the premises of the tavern, the doctor and his companion returned to drinking their mead in silence. At last, Dr. Ignatius spoke:
"A fortunate happenstance indeed. If our stay was any longer in Port Royal, I would begin to fear the worse."
"Indeed, my master – your present name has afforded you a certain amount of protection, but I fear that too many men still remember the countenance of a certain Dr. John Faustus."
The doctor smiled ruefully. "But have we any hope of still pursuing that ship – the Lady Anne?"
"You yet seek to win your lovely Margaret?" his companion replied with a look that could very easily be observed as either sardonic or pitying.
"I do," Dr. Faustus said, with an air of resolution. "If there is hope."
"There is always hope," his companion rejoined softly. "It is only yours to take the necessary steps to effect it. I, of course, shall do all in my power to aid you."
The two men rose and as they retrieved their cloaks and made their way towards the door, the doctor clasped his companion's hand murmuring, "And I would give my soul a thousand times over for the chance to possess Margaret once again – and to retain your faithful services, my sweet Mephistopheles!"