Kate Bonnet Part 27

"Heaven grant it!" said Dame Charter in her heart. "If I get out of this, I stay upon dry land forever."

"I grieve that my poor ship be not honoured by your ladies," said Sorby, "but I admit that her decks are scarcely fit for the reception of such company. It is but to-day that we have found time to cleanse her deck from the stain and disorder of our last fight, having lately come into harbour. That was a great fight, Sir Bonnet; we lay low and let the fellows board us, but not one of them went back again. Ha! ha! Not one of them went back again, good ladies."

Every pirate face on board that ill-conditioned sloop now glared over her rail, their eyes fixed upon the goodly company in the little boat, their horrid hair and beards stained and matted--it would have been hard to tell by what.

"Oh, father, father!" panted Kate, "please row away. What if they should now jump down upon us?"

"Good-day, good-day, my brave Captain Sorby," said Bonnet, "we must e'en row away; we have other craft to visit, but would first do honour to you and your bold crew."

Captain Sorby lifted high his great bespattered hat, and every grinning demon of the crew waved hat or rag or pail or cutla.s.s and set up a discordant yell in honour of their departing visitors.

"Oh! go not to another, father," pleaded Kate, her pale face in tears; "visit no more of them, I pray you!"

"Ay, truly, keep away from them," said Mr. Delaplaine. "I am no coward, but I vow to you that I shall die of fright if I come close to another of those floating h.e.l.ls."

"And these," said Kate to herself, her eyes fixed out over the sea, "these are his friends, his companions, the wretches of whom he is so proud."

"There are no more vessels like that in port," said Bonnet; "that's the most celebrated sloop. Those we shall now call upon are commanded by men of milder mien; some of them you could not tell from plain merchantmen were you not informed of their ill.u.s.trious careers."

"If you go near another pirate ship," cried Dame Charter, "I shall jump overboard; I cannot help it."

"Row back to the Belinda, brother-in-law," said Mr. Delaplaine in a strong, hard voice; "your tour of pleasure is not fit for tender-hearted women, nor, I grant it, for gentlemen of my station."

"There are other ships whose captains I know," said Bonnet, "and where you would have been well received; but if your nerves are not strong enough for the courtesies I have to offer, we will return to the Belinda."

When safe again on board their vessel, after the sudden termination of their projected tour of calls on pirates, Kate took her father aside and entered into earnest conversation with him, while Mr. Delaplaine, much ruffled in his temper, although in general of a most mild disposition, said aside to Dame Charter: "He is as mad as a March hare. What other parent on this earth would convey his fair young daughter into the society of these vile wild beasts, which in his eyes are valiant heroes? We must get him back with us, Dame Charter, we must get him back. And if he cannot be constrained by love and goodwill to a decent and a Christian life, we must shut him up. And if his daughter weeps and raves, we must e'en stiffen our determination and shut him up. It shall be my purpose now to hasten the return of the brig. There's room enough for all, and he and the Scotchman must go back with us. The Governor shall deal with him; and, whether it be on my estate or behind strong bars, he shall spend the rest of his days upon the island of Jamaica, and so know the sea no more."

He was very much roused, this good merchant, and when he was roused he was not slow to act.

The captain of the Belinda was very willing to make a profitable voyage back to Jamaica, but his vessel must be well laden before he could do this. Goods enough there were at Belize for that purpose, for Blackbeard's supplies were all for sale, and his chief clerk, Bonnet, had the selling of them. So, all parties being like-minded, the Belinda soon began to take on goods for Kingston.

Stede Bonnet superintended everything. He was a good man of business, and knew how to direct people who might be under him. There was a great stir at the storehouse, and, almost blithely, Ben Greenway worked day and night to make out invoices and to prepare goods for shipment.

Bonnet wore no more the clothes in which his daughter had first seen him after so long and drear a parting. On deck or on sh.o.r.e, in storehouse or on the streets of Belize, he was the fine gentleman with the silk stockings and the tall c.o.c.ked hat.

One day, a fellow, fresh from his bottle, forgetting the respect which was due to fine clothes and to Blackbeard's factor, called out to Bonnet: "What now, Sir Nightcap, how call you that thing you have on your head?"

In an instant a sword was whipped from its scabbard and a practised hand sent its blade through the arm of the jester, who presently fell backward. Bonnet wiped his sword upon the fellow's sleeve and, advising him to get up and try to learn some manners, coolly walked away.

After that fine clothes were not much laughed at in Belize, for even the most disrespectful ruffians desired not the thrust of a quick blade nor the ill-will of that most irascible pirate, Blackbeard.

A few days before it was expected that the Belinda would be ready to sail Bonnet came on board, his mind full of an important matter. Calling Mr. Delaplaine and Kate aside, he said: "I have been thinking a great deal lately about my Scotchman, Ben Greenway. In the first place, he is greatly needed here, for many of Blackbeard's goods will remain in the storehouse, and there should be some competent person to take care of them and to sell them should opportunity offer. Besides that, he is a great annoyance to me, and I have long been trying to get rid of him.

When I left Bridgetown I had not intended to take him with me, and his presence on board my ship was a mere accident. Since then he has made himself very disagreeable."

"What!" cried Kate, "would you be willing that we should all sail away and leave poor Ben Greenway in this place by himself among these cruel pirates?"

"He'll represent Blackbeard," said Bonnet, "and no one will harm him.

And, moreover, this enforced stay may be of the greatest benefit to him.

He has a good head for business, and he may establish himself here in a very profitable fashion and go back to Barbadoes, if he so desires, in comfortable circ.u.mstances. All we have to do is to slip our anchor and sail away at some moment when he is busy in the town. I will leave ample instructions for him and he shall have money."

"Father, it would be shameful!" said Kate.

Mr. Delaplaine said nothing; he was too angry to speak, but he made up his mind that Ben Greenway should be apprised of Bonnet's intentions of running away from him and that such a wicked design should be thwarted.

This brother-in-law of his was a worse man than he had thought him; he was capable of being false even to his best friend. He might be mad as a March hare, but, truly, he was also as sly and crafty as a fox in any month in the year.

Wise Mr. Delaplaine!

The very next morning there came a letter from Stede Bonnet to his daughter Kate, in which he told her that it was absolutely impossible for him to return to the humdrum and stupid life of sugar-planting and cattle-raising. Having tasted the glories of a pirate's career, he could never again be contented with plain country pursuits. So he was off and away, the bounding sea beneath him and the brave Jolly Roger floating over his head. He would not tell his dear daughter where he was gone or what he intended to do, for she would be happier if she did not know. He sent her his warmest love, and desired to be most kindly remembered to her uncle and to Dame Charter. He would make it his business that a correspondence should be maintained between him and his dear Kate, and he hoped from time to time to send her presents which would help her to know how constantly he loved her. He concluded by admitting that what he had said about Ben Greenway was merely a blind to turn their suspicions from his intended departure. If his good brother-in-law, out of kindness to the Scotchman, had brought him to the Belinda and had insisted on keeping him there, it would have made his, Bonnet's, secret departure a great deal easier.

Kate had never fainted in her life, but when she had finished this letter she went down flat on her back.

Leaving his niece to the good offices of Dame Charter, Mr. Delaplaine, breathing hotly, went ash.o.r.e, accompanied by the captain. When they reached the storehouse they found it locked, with the key in the custody of a shop-keeper near-by. They soon heard what had happened to Blackbeard's business agent. He had gone off in a piratical vessel, which had sailed for somewhere, in the middle of the night; and, moreover, it was believed that the Scotchman who worked for him had gone with him, for he had been seen running towards the water, and afterward taking his place among the oarsmen in a boat which went out to the departing vessel.

"May that unholy vessel be sunk as soon as it reaches the open sea!" was the deadly desire which came from the heart of Mr. Delaplaine. But the wish had not formed itself into words before the good merchant recanted.

"I totally forgot that faithful Scotchman," he sighed.

CHAPTER XXVI

d.i.c.kORY STRETCHES HIS LEGS

There were jolly times on board the swift ship Revenge as she sped through the straits of Florida on her way up the Atlantic coast. The skies were bright, the wind was fair, and the warm waters of the Gulf Stream helped to carry her bravely on her way. But young d.i.c.kory Charter, with the blood-stained letter of Captain Vince tucked away in the lining of his coat, ate so little, tossed about so much in his berth, turned so pale and spoke so seldom, that the bold Captain Blackbeard declared that he should have some medicine.

"I shall not let my fine lieutenant suffer for want of drugs," he cried, "and when I reach Charles Town I shall send ash.o.r.e a boat and procure some; and if the citizens disturb or interfere with my brave fellows, I'll bombard the town. There will be medicine to take on one side or the other, I swear." And loud and ready were the oaths he swore.

A pirate who carries with him an intended son-in-law is not likely, if he be of Blackbeard's turn of mind, to suffer all his family plans to be ruined for the want of a few drugs.

When d.i.c.kory heard what the captain had to say on this subject his heart shrank within him. He had never taken medicine and he had never seen Blackbeard's daughter, but the one seemed to him almost as bad as the other, and the thought of the cool waves beneath him became more attractive than ever before. But that thought was quickly banished, for he had a duty before him, and not until that was performed could he take leave of this world, once so bright to him.

An island with palm-trees slowly rose on the horizon, and off this island it was that, after a good deal of tacking and close-hauling, the Revenge lay to to take in water. Far better water than that which had been brought from Belize.

"Do you want to go ash.o.r.e in the boat, boy?" said Blackbeard, really mindful of the health of this projected member of his family. "It may help your appet.i.te to use your legs."

d.i.c.kory did not care to go anywhere, but he had hardly said so when a revulsion of feeling came upon him, and turning away so that his face might not be noticed, he said he thought the land air might do him good.

While the men were at work carrying their pails from the well-known spring to the water-barrels in the boat, d.i.c.kory strolled about to view the scenery, for it could never have been expected that a first lieutenant in uniform should help to carry water. At first the scenery did not appear to be very interesting, and d.i.c.kory wandered slowly from here to there, then sat down under a tree. Presently he rose and went to another tree, a little farther away from the boat and the men at the spring. Here he quietly took off his shoes and his stockings, and, having nothing else to do, made a little bundle of them, listlessly tying them to his belt; then he rose and walked away somewhat brisker, but not in the direction of the boat. He did not hurry, but even stopped sometimes to look at things, but he still walked a little briskly, and always away from the boat. He had been so used, this child of outdoor life, to going about the world barefooted, that it was no wonder that he walked briskly, being relieved of his enc.u.mbering shoes and stockings.

After a time he heard a shout behind him, and turning saw three men of the boat's crew upon a little eminence, calling to him. Then he moved more quickly, always away from the boat, and with his head turned he saw the men running towards him, and their shouts became louder and wilder.

Then he set off on a good run, and presently heard a pistol shot. This he knew was to frighten him and make him stop, but he ran the faster and soon turned the corner of a bit of woods. Then he was away at the top of his speed, making for a jungle of foliage not a quarter of a mile before him. Shouts he heard, and more shots, but he caught sight of no pursuers. Urged on even as they were by the fear of returning to the ship without d.i.c.kory, they could not expect to match, in their heavy boots, the stag-like speed of this barefooted bounder.

After a time d.i.c.kory stopped running, for his path, always straight away, so far as he could judge, from the landing-place, became very difficult. In the forest there were streams, sometimes narrow and sometimes wide, and how deep he knew not, so that now he jumped, now he walked on fallen trees. Sometimes he crossed water and marsh by swinging himself from the limbs of one tree to those of another. This was hard work for a young gentleman in a naval uniform and c.o.c.ked hat, but it had to be done; and when the hat was knocked off it was picked up again, with its feathers dripping.

d.i.c.kory was going somewhere, although he knew not whither, and he had solemn business to perform which he had sworn to do, and therefore he must have fit clothes to wear, not only in which to travel but in which to present himself suitably when he should accomplish his mission. All these things d.i.c.kory thought of, and he picked up his c.o.c.ked hat whenever it dropped. He would have been very hungry had he not bethought himself to fill his pockets with biscuits before he left the vessel. And as to fresh water, there was no lack of that.