Blackbeard: Buccaneer Part 2

"Nonsense, John c.o.c.krell. These mad pirates have addled your wits. Shall I let you be scalped by these painted fiends of Yema.s.sees?"

"Then you will volunteer in my stead," shrewdly ventured Jack, with a glance at Dorothy.

"Um-m. Duty and my official cares prevent," quoth the worshipful Secretary of the Colony, frowning and pursing his lips. Dorothy smiled at this and winked at Jack. Uncle Peter was rated a better lawyer than a valiant man of war.

"Let us stand at a window," exclaimed the girl. "Ah, they come! My faith, but this is a brave array. And Captain Bonnet leads them well."

She had never expected to praise a pirate but there was no denying that this lean, straight rover in the scarlet coat and great c.o.c.ked hat looked the part of a competent and intrepid soldier. He was superbly fit for the task in hand. Catching sight of Jack c.o.c.krell and Dorothy Stuart in the window, he saluted by raising the hilt of his cutla.s.s and his melancholy visage brightened in a smile.

Behind him tramped his men in column of fours, matchlocks across their shoulders, bright weapons swinging against their thighs as they sang all together and kept step to the beat of the drums.

"But ere to Execution Bay, The wind these bones do blow, I'll drink an' fight what's left away, _Yo, ho, with the rum below_."

Behind these hardy volunteers straggled as many of the militia company as had been able to answer the sudden call, merchants, clerks, artisans, and vagabonds who seemed none too eager to meet the bloodthirsty Yema.s.sees. Their wives and children trailed after them to the edge of the town, amidst tears and loud lamentations. The contrast did not escape the eye of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes who reluctantly admitted:

"Give the devil his due, say I. These wicked brethren of the coast go swaggering off of their own free will, as though it were to a frolic. I will remember it in their favor when they come to hang."

A long roll of the drums and a lilting flourish by the pirate trumpeter as a farewell to Charles Town and its tavern and its girls, and the company pa.s.sed from view. The lane was again deserted and silent and Jack offered to escort Dorothy Stuart to her own home. As they loitered across an open field, he cried in a fierce flare of rebellion:

"My good uncle will drive me too far. Let him sail for old England and leave me to find my own career. Upon my soul, I may run away to join a pirate ship."

Dorothy tried to look grave at this dreadful announcement but a dimple showed in her cheek as she replied:

"My dear Jack, you can never be braver but you will be wiser some day.

Banish such silly thoughts. You must obey your lawful guardian."

"But did you see the lads in the militia company? Two or three of them I have whipped in fair fight. And Uncle Peter wants to keep me tucked in a cradle."

"Softly, Jack," said she, with pretty solicitude. "Stede Bonnet has bewitched you utterly."

The stubborn youth shook his head. This day of humiliation had been the last straw. He was ripe for desperate adventure. It would have made him happy and contented to be marching against the Indians with Stede Bonnet and his cut-throats, in peril of tomahawks and ambuscades.

Small wonder that poor Jack c.o.c.krell's notions of right and wrong were rather confused, for he lived in an age when might ruled blue water, when every ship was armed and merchant seamen fought to save their skins as well as their cargoes. English, French, Spanish, and Dutch, they plundered each other on the flimsiest pretexts and the pirates harried them all.

Still sulky, Jack betook himself to the rectory next morning for his daily bout with his studies. Parson Throckmorton was puttering in the garden, a shrunken little man who wore black small-clothes, lace at his wrists, and a powdered wig. Opening the silver snuff-box he almost sneezed the wig off before he chirruped:

"Ye mind me of Will Shakespeare's whining schoolboy, Master John,--creeping like snail unwillingly to school. A treat is in store for us to-day, a signal treat! We begin our Virgil. '_Arma virumque cano._'"

"Arms and a man? I like that much of it," glowered the mutinous scholar, "but my uncle makes me sing a different tune."

"He accepted my advice,--that you be educated in England," said the parson.

"Then I may hold you responsible for this h.e.l.lish thing?" angrily declaimed Jack. "Were it not for your white hairs----"

He subsided and had the grace to apologize as they entered the library.

The tutor was an impatient old gentleman and the pupil was so inattentive that his knuckles were sharply rapped with a ruler. A blunder more glaring and the ruler came down with another whack. This was too much for Jack who jumped up, rubbed his knuckles, and shouted:

"Enough, sir. I would have you know that I all but killed a big, ugly pirate yesterday."

"So rumor informs me," rasped Parson Throckmorton, "but you will give yourself no grand airs with me. Construe this pa.s.sage properly or I must tan those leather breeches with a limber rod."

This was too much for the insulted Jack who slammed down the book, clapped on his hat, and tramped from the room in high dudgeon. Such scurvy treatment as this was fairly urging him to a life of crime on the rolling ocean. He wandered down to the wharf and wistfully gazed at the lawless brig, _Royal James_, which swam at her anchorage in trim and graceful beauty. A few men moved briskly on deck, painting the bulwarks or polishing bra.s.s. Evidently Stede Bonnet had sent off word to be all taut and ready to hoist sail for another cruise.

After a while the truant went homeward and manfully confessed to the quarrel with Parson Throckmorton. Uncle Peter Forbes was amazingly mild.

There was no gusty outbreak of temper and, in fact, he had little to say. It was in his mind to patch up a truce with his troublesome nephew pending their departure for England. He even suggested that the studies be dropped and advised Jack to go fishing in his canoe.

Several days later, Captain Bonnet and his pirates came back from their foray against the Indians. They were a foot-sore, weary band, the wounded carried in litters and several men missing. Their gay garments were caked with mud, the finery all tatters, and most of them were marked with cuts and scratches, but they pulled themselves together and swaggered into Charles Town as boldly as ever to the music of trumpet and drum. Stede Bonnet carried an arm in a sling. As he pa.s.sed the Secretary's house he cheerily called out to Jack:

"Ahoy, my young comrade! 'Twill please you to know that fair Mistress Dorothy Stuart may sleep in peace."

"Did you scatter the savages, sir?" asked Jack, running out to shake his hand.

"G.o.d bless ye, boy, we exterminated 'em."

The grat.i.tude of Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes was stronger than his dislike and he came out to thank the captain in behalf of the citizens of Charles Town. To his excited questions the pirate replied:

"There be old buccaneers from Hispaniola in my crew, may it please Your Excellency,--fellows who hunted the Indians in their youth,--tracked 'em like hounds through forest and bayou. Others served their time with the log-wood cutters of Yucatan. They laughed at the tricks of these Yema.s.sees of the Carolinas."

One of the militia company broke in to say to Mr. Forbes:

"Your Honor's own plantation was saved from the torch by this doughty Captain Bonnet. It was there he pulled the flint arrow-head from his arm and was near bleeding to death."

Mr. Peter Forbes could do no less than invite the pirate into the house, for the wounded arm had been rudely bandaged and was in sore need of dressing. Jack fetched a tray of cakes and wine while his uncle bawled at the servants who came running with soft cloths and hot water and healing lotions. Captain Bonnet protested that the hurt was trifling and carelessly explained:

"My own ship's surgeon was spitted on a boarding-pike in our last action at sea and I have not found me another one. You show much skill and tenderness, sir."

"The wound is deep and ragged. Hold still," commanded Mr. Peter Forbes.

"You have been a soldier, Captain Bonnet, commended for valor on the fields of Europe and holding the king's commission. Why not seek pardon and serve with the armed forces of this province? My services in the matter are yours to command."

Stede Bonnet frowned and bit his lip. All he said was:

"You meddle with matters that concern you not, my good sir. I am a man able to make my own free choice."

"Captain Bonnet does honor to the trade of piracy," cried the admiring Jack, at which his uncle declared, with a wrathful gesture:

"I must remove this daft lad to England to be rid of you, Stede Bonnet.

You have cast a wicked spell over him."

"To England?" said the pirate, with a sympathetic glance at the boy. "I would sooner lie in gaol."

"And reap your deserts," snapped Uncle Peter.

"No doubt of that," frankly agreed the pirate. "And what thinks the lad of this sad penance?"

"I hate it," was Jack's swift answer. "Will you grant our merchant ship safe conduct, Captain Bonnet?"

"What ship, boy? You have only to name her. She will go scathless, as far as in my power."