ON THE QUARTER-DECK
As the time approached when Big Sam intended to take the Sarah Williams
out of port, it seemed really necessary that Mistress Kate Bonnet should
descend from the exposed quarterdeck and seek shelter from the night air
in the captain's cabin or in her own room; and, as she had treated him
so curtly at his last interview with her, he sent the elderly man with
the mild countenance to tell her that she really must go below, for that
he, Big Sam, felt answerable to her father for her health and comfort.
But when the elderly man and his lantern reached the quarter-deck, there
was no Mistress Kate there, and, during the rapid search which ensued,
there was no Mistress Kate to be found on the vessel.
Big Sam was very much disturbed; she must have jumped overboard. But
what a wild young woman to do that upon such little provocation, for
how should she know that he was about to run away with her father's
vessel!
"This is a bad business," he said to the black-haired man, "and who
would have thought it?"
"I see not that," said Black Paul, "nor why you should trouble yourself
about her. She is gone, and you are well rid of her. Had she stayed
aboard with us, every ship in the colony might have been cruising after
us before to-morrow's sun had gone down."
But this did not quiet the cowardly soul of Big Sam.
"Now I shall tell you," said he, "exactly what happened. A little before
dark she went ashore in a boat which was then leaving the ship. I
allowed her to do this because she was very much in earnest about it,
and talked sharply, and also because I thought the town was the best
place for her, since it was growing late and her father did not seem to
be coming. Now, if the old man comes on board, that's what happened; but
if he does not come on board, the devil and the fishes know what
happened, and they may talk about it if they like. But if any man says
anything to old Bonnet except as I have ordered, then the fishes shall
have another feast."
"And now, what I have to say to you," said Black Paul, "is, that you
should get away from here without waiting for the tide. If one of these
rascals drops overboard and swims ashore, he may get a good reward for
news of the murder committed on this vessel, and there isn't any reason
to think, so far as I know, that the Sarah Williams can sail any faster
than two or three other vessels now in the harbour."
"There's sense in all that," said Big Sam as he walked forward. But he
suddenly stopped, hearing, not very far away, the sound of oars.
Now began the body and soul of Big Sam to tremble. If the officers of
the law, having disposed of Captain Bonnet, had now come to the ship, he
had no sufficient tale to tell them about the disappearance of Mistress
Kate Bonnet; nor could he resist. For why should the crew obey his
orders? They had not yet agreed to receive him as their captain, and, so
far, they had done nothing to set themselves against the authorities. It
was a bad case for Big Sam.
But now the ship was hailed, and the voice which hailed it was that of
Captain Bonnet. And the soul of Big Sam upheaved itself.
In a few minutes Bonnet was on board, with a big box and the crew of the
long-boat. Speaking rapidly, he explained to Big Sam the situation of
affairs. The authorities of the port had indeed sadly interfered with
him. They had heard reports about the unladen vessel and the big crew;
and, although they felt loath to detain and to examine a
fellow-townsman, hitherto of good report, they did detain him and they
did examine him, and they would have gone immediately to the ship had
it not been so dark.
But under the circumstances they contented themselves with the assurance
of the respectable Mr. Bonnet that he would appear before them the next
morning and give them every opportunity of examining his most
respectable ship. Having done this, they retired to their beds, and the
respectable Bonnet immediately boarded his vessel.
"Now," cried Captain Bonnet, "where is my daughter? I hope that Ben
Greenway has caused her to retire to shelter?"
"Your daughter!" exclaimed Big Sam, before any one else could speak,
"she is not here. It was still early twilight when she told me she would
wait no longer, and desired to be sent ashore in a boat. This request,
of course, I immediately granted, feeling bound thereto, as she was your
daughter, and that I was, in a measure, under her orders."
Captain Bonnet stood, knitting his brows.
"Well, well!" he presently cried, with an air of relief, "it is better
so. Her home is the best place for her, as matters have turned out. And
now," said he, turning to Big Sam, "call the men together and set them
to quick work. Pull up your anchors and do whatever else is necessary to
free the ship; then let us away. We must be far out of sight of this
island before to-morrow's sunrise."
As Big Sam passed Black Paul he winked and whispered: "The old fool is
doing exactly what I would have done if he hadn't come aboard. This
suits my plan as if he were trying his best to please me."
In a very short time the cable was slipped, for Big Sam had no notion of
betraying the departure of the vessel by the creaking of a capstan; and,
with the hoisting of a few sails and no light aboard except the shaded
lamp at the binnacle, the Sarah Williams moved down the river and out
upon the sea.
"And when are you going to take the command in your hands?" asked Black
Paul of Big Sam.
"To-morrow, some time," was the answer, "but I must first go around
among the men and let them know what's coming."
"And how about Ben Greenway? Has the old man asked for him yet?"
"No," said the other; "he thinks, of course, that the Scotchman has gone
ashore with the young woman. What else could he do, being a faithful
servant? To-morrow I shall set Greenway free and let him tell his own
tale to his master. But I shall tell my tale first, and then he can
speak or not speak, as he chooses; it will make no difference one way or
another."
Soon after dawn the next morning Captain Bonnet was out of his hammock
and upon deck. He looked about him and saw nothing but sea, sea, sea.
Big Sam approached him. "I forgot to tell you," said he, "that yesterday
I shut up that Scotchman of yours, for, from his conduct, I thought that
he had some particular reason for wanting to go on shore; and, fearing
that if he did so he would talk about this vessel, and so make worse the
trouble I was sure you were in, I shut him up as a matter of precaution
and forgot to mention him to you last night."
"You stupid blockhead!" roared Mr. Bonnet, "how like an ass you have
acted! Not for a bag of gold would I have taken Ben Greenway on this
cruise; and not for a dozen bags would I have deprived my family of his
care and service. You ought to be thrown into the sea! Ben Greenway
here! Of all men in the world, Ben Greenway here!"
"I only thought to do you a service," said Big Sam.
"Service!" shouted the angry Bonnet. But as it was of no use to say
anything more upon this subject, he ordered the sailing-master to send
to him, first, Ben Greenway, and then to summon to him, no matter where
they might be or what they might be doing, the whole crew.
The other, surprised at this order, objected that all of the men could
not leave their posts, but Bonnet overruled him.
"Send me the whole of them, every man jack. The fellow at the wheel
will remain here and steer. As for the rest, the ship will take care of
itself for a space."
"What can that old fool of a farmer intend to do?" said Big Sam, as he
went away; "he is like a child with a toy, and wants to see his crew in
a bunch."
Presently came Ben Greenway in a smothered rage.
"An' I suppose, sir," said he without salutation, "that ye have gi'en
orders about the care o' the cows and the lot o' poultry that I engaged
to send to the town to-day?"
"Don't mention cows or poultry to me!" cried Bonnet. "I am a more angry
man than you are, Ben Greenway, and as soon as I have time to attend to
it, I shall look into this matter of your shutting up, and shall come
down upon the wrongdoers like sheeted lightning."
"What a fearful rage ye're in, Master Bonnet," said Ben. "I never saw
the like o' it. If ye're really angrier than I am, I willna revile;
leavin' it to ye to do the revilin' wha are so much better qualified.
An' so it wasna accident that I was shut up in the ship's pantry,
leavin' Mistress Kate to gang hame by hersel', an' to come out this
mornin' findin' the ship at sea an' ye in command?"
"Say no more, Ben," cried Bonnet. "I am more sorry to see you here than
if you were any other man I know in this world. But I cannot put you
off now, nor can I talk further about it, being very much pressed with
other matters. Now here comes my crew."
Ben Greenway retired a little, leaning against the rail.
"An' this is his crew?" he muttered; "a lot o' unkempt wild beasts, it
strikes me. Mayhap he has gathered them togither to convert their souls,
an' he is about to preach his first sermon to them."
Now all the mariners of the Sarah Williams were assembled aft and
Captain Bonnet was standing on his quarter-deck, looking out upon them.
He was dressed in a naval uniform, to which was added a broad red sash.
In his belt were two pairs of big pistols, and a stout sword hung by his
side. He folded his arms; he knitted his brows, and he gazed fiercely
about to see if any one were absent, although if any one had been absent
he would not have known it. His eyes flashed, his cheeks were flushed,
and it was plain enough to all that he had something important to say.
"My men," he cried, in a stalwart voice which no one there had ever
heard him use before, "my men, look upon me and you will not see what
you expect to see! Here is no planter, no dealer in horses and fat
cattle, no grower of sugar-cane! Instead of that," he yelled, drawing
his sword and flourishing it above his head, "instead of that I am
pirate Bonnet, the new terror of the sea! You, my men, my brave men,
you are not the crew of the good merchantman, the Sarah Williams, you
are pirates all. You are the pirate crew of the pirate ship Revenge.
That is now the name of this vessel on which you sail, and you are all
pirates, who henceforth shall sail her.
"Now look aloft, every man of you, and you will see a skull and bones,
under which you sail, under which you fight, under which you gain great
riches in coins, in golden bars, and in fine goods fit for kings and
queens!"
As he spoke, every rascal raised his eyes aloft, and there, sure enough,
floated the black flag with the skull and bones--the terrible "Jolly
Roger" of the Spanish Main, and which Bonnet himself had hoisted before
he called together his crew.
For the most part the men were astounded, and looked blankly the one
upon the other. They knew they had been shipped to sail upon some
illegal cruise, and that they were to be paid high wages by the wealthy
Bonnet; but that this worthy farmer should be their pirate captain had
never entered their minds, they naturally supposing that their future
commander would not care to show himself at Barbadoes, and that he would
be taken on board at some other port.
As for Big Sam, he was more than astounded--he was stupefied. He had
well known the character of the ship from the time that Bonnet had
taken him into his service, and he it was who had mainly managed the
fitting-up of the vessel and the shipping of her crew. He did not know
whom Bonnet intended to command the ship, but from the very beginning he
had intended to command her himself. But he had been too late. He had
not gone among the men as he had expected to do soon after setting sail,
and here this country bumpkin had taken the wind out of his sails and
had boldly announced that he himself was the captain of the pirate ship
Revenge.
The men now began to talk among themselves; and as Bonnet still stood,
his sword clutched in his hand and his chest heaving with the excitement
of his own speech, there arose from the crew a cheer. Some of them had
known a little about Stede Bonnet and some of them scarcely anything at
all, except that he was able to pay them good wages. Now he had told
them that he was a pirate captain, and each of them knew that he himself
was a pirate, or was waiting for the chance to become one.
And so they cheered, and their captain's chest heaved higher, and the
soul of the luckless Big Sam collapsed, for he knew that after that
cheer there was no chance for him; at least, not now.
"Now go, my boys," shouted Bonnet, "back to your places, every one of
you, and fall to your duty; and in honour of that black flag which
floats above you, each one of you shall drink a glass of grog."
With another shout the crew hurried forward, and Stede Bonnet stood upon
the quarter-deck, the pirate captain of the pirate ship Revenge.
And now stepped up to his master that good Presbyterian, Ben Greenway.
"An' ye call yoursel' a pirate, sir?" said he, "an' ye go forth upon the
sea to murder an' to rob an' to prepare your soul for hell?"
Mr. Bonnet winked a little.
"You speak strongly, Ben," said he, "but that might have been expected
from a man of your fashion of thinking. But let me tell you again, my
good Ben Greenway, that I was no party to your being on this vessel.
Even now, when my soul swells within me with the pride of knowing that I
am a sovereign of the seas and that I owe no allegiance to any man or
any government and that my will is my law and is the law of every man
upon this vessel--even now, Ben Greenway, it grieves me to know that you
are here with me. But the first chance I get I shall set you ashore and
have you sent home. Thou art not cut out for a pirate, and as no other
canst thou sail with me."
Ben Greenway looked at him steadfastly.
"Master Stede Bonnet," said he, "ye are no more fit to be a bloody
pirate than I am. Ye oversee your plantation weel, although I hae often
been persuaded that ye knew no' as much as ye think ye do. Ye provide
weel for your family, although ye tak' no' the pleasure therein ye might
hae ta'en had ye been content wi' ane wife, as the Holy Scriptures tell
us is enough for ony mon, an' ye hae sufficient judgment to tak' the
advice o' a judgmatical mon about your lands an' your herds; but when it
comes to your ca'in' yoursel' a pirate captain, it is enough to make a
deceased person chuckle by the absurdity o' it."
"Ben Greenway," exclaimed Major Bonnet, "I don't like your manner of
speech."
"O' course ye don't," cried Ben; "an' I didna expect ye to like it; but
it is the solemn truth for a' that."
"I don't want any of your solemn truths," said Bonnet, "and as soon as I
get a chance I am going to send you home to your barnyard and your
cows."
"No' so fast, Master Bonnet, no' so fast," answered Ben. "I hae ta'en
care o' ye for mony years; I hae kept ye out o' mony a bad scrape both
in buyin' an' sellin', an' I am sure ye never wanted takin' care o' mair
than ye do now; an' I'm just here to tell ye that I am no' goin' back to
Barbadoes till ye do, an' that I am goin' to stand by ye through your
bad luck and through your good luck, in your sin an' in your
repentance."
[Illustration: "If you talk to me like that I will cut you down where
you stand!"]
"Ben Greenway," cried Captain Bonnet, as he waved his sword in the
air, "if you talk to me like that I will cut you down where you stand!
You forget that you are not talking to a country gentleman, but to a
pirate, a pirate of the seas!"
Ben grinned, but seeing the temper his master was in, thought it wise to
retire.