KATE PLANS
It was nearly an hour before Kate and Mr. Newcombe returned, and when
they came back they did not look happy. Dickory observed their sad
visages, but the sight did not make him sad. Kate took Dame Charter by
the hand and led her to the bench.
"You have been so kind to me," she said, "that I have almost come to
look upon you as a mother, even though I have known you such a little
while, and I want to tell you what I have been talking about, and what I
think I am going to do."
Mr. Newcombe now stood by, and Dickory also. His mother was not quite
sure that this was the right place for him, but as he had already done
so much for the young lady, there was, perhaps, no reason why he should
be debarred from hearing what she had to say.
"This gentleman," said Kate, indicating Martin Newcombe, "sympathizes
with me very greatly in my present unfortunate position: having no home
to which I can go, and having no relative belonging to this island but
my father, who is sailing upon the seas, I know not where; and
therefore, in his great kindness, has offered to marry me and to take me
to his home, which thereafter would be my home, and in which I should
have all comforts and rights."
Now Dickory's face was like the sky before a shower. His mother saw it
out of the corner of her eye, but the others did not look at him.
"This was very kind and very good," continued Kate.
"Not at all, not at all," interrupted Master Newcombe, "except that it
was kind and good to myself; for there is nothing in this world which
you need and want as much as I need and want you."
At this Dickory's brow grew darker.
"I believe all you say," said Kate, "for I am sure you are an honest and
a true man, but, as I told you, I cannot marry you; for, even had I made
up my mind on the subject, which I have not, I could not marry any one
at such a time as this, not knowing my father's will upon the subject or
where he is."
The sun broke out on Dickory's countenance without a shower; his mother
noticed the change.
"But as I must do something," Kate went on, "a plan came to me while Mr.
Newcombe was talking to me, and I have been thinking of it ever since,
and now, as I speak, I am becoming fully determined in regard to it;
that is, if I can carry it out. It often happens," she said, with a
faint smile, "that when people ask advice they become more and more
strengthened in their own opinion. My opinion, and I may say my plan, is
this: When my father told me he was going away in his ship, he agreed to
take me with him on a little voyage, leaving me with my mother's brother
at the island of Jamaica, not far from Spanish Town. In purposing this
he thought, no doubt, that it would be far better for me to be with my
own blood, if his voyage should be long, rather than to live with one
who is no relative of mine, and does not wish to act like one. This,
then, being my father's intention, which he was prevented, by reasons
which I know not of, from carrying out, I shall carry it out myself with
all possible dispatch, and go to my uncle in Jamaica by the earliest
vessel which sails from this port. Not only as this is my natural refuge
in my trouble, but as my father intended to go there when he thought of
having me with him, it may be a part of his plan to go there any way,
even though I be not with him; and so I may see him, and all may be
well."
Clouds now settled heavily on the faces of each of the young men, and
even the ordinarily bright sky of Dame Charter became somewhat overcast;
although, in her heart, she did not believe that anybody in this world
could have devised a better plan, under the circumstances, than this
forsaken Mistress Kate Bonnet.
"Now there is my plan," said Kate, with something of cheerfulness in her
voice, "if it so be I can carry it out. Do either of you know," glancing
at the young men impartially, but apparently not noticing the bad
weather, "if in a reasonable time a vessel will leave here for Jamaica?"
Dickory knew well, but he would not answer; Kate had no right to put
such a thing upon him. Newcombe, however, did not hesitate. "It is very
hard for me to say," he made reply, "but there is a merchantman, the
King and Queen, which sails from here in three days for Jamaica. I know
this, for I send some goods; and I wish, Mistress Bonnet, that I could
say something against your sailing in her, but I cannot; for, since you
will not let me take care of you, your uncle is surely the best one in
the world to do it; and as to the vessel, I know she is a safe one."
"But you could not go sailing away in any vessel by yourself," cried
Dame Charter, "no matter how safe she may be."
"Oh, no!" cried Kate; "and the more we talk about our plan the more
fully it reveals itself to me in all its various parts. I am going to
ask you to go with me, my dear Dame Charter," and as she spoke she
seized both of the hands of the other. "I have funds of my own which
are invested in the town, and I can afford the expense. Surely, my good
friend, you will not let me go forth alone, and all unused to travel?
Leaving me safely with my uncle, you could return when the ship came
back to Bridgetown."
Dame Charter turned upon the girl a look of kind compassion, but at the
same time she knit her brows.
"Right glad would I be to do that for you," she said, "but I cannot go
away and leave my son, who has only me."
"Take him with you," cried Kate. "Two women travelling to unknown shores
might readily need a protector, and if not, there are so many things
which he might do. Think of it, my dear Dame Charter; to my uncle's home
in Jamaica is the only place to which I can go, and if you do not go
with me, how can I go there?"
Dame Charter now shed tears, but they were the tears of one good woman
feeling for the misfortunes of another.
"I will go with you, my dear young lady," she said, "and I will not
leave you until you are in your uncle's care. And, as to my boy here--"
Now Dickory spoke from out of the blazing noontide of his countenance.
"Oh, I will go!" he cried. "I do so greatly want to see Jamaica."
Without being noticed, his mother took him by the hand; she did not
know what he might be tempted to say next.
Mr. Newcombe stood very doleful. And well he might; for if his lady-love
went away in this fashion, there was good reason to suppose that he
might never see her again. But Kate said no word to comfort him--for how
could she in this company?--and began to talk rapidly about her
preparations.
"I suppose until the ship shall sail I may stay with you?" addressing
Dame Charter.
"Stay here?" exclaimed the good dame. "Of course you can stay here. We
are like one family now, and we will all go on board ship together."
Kate walked to the boat with Mr. Newcombe, he having offered to
undertake her business in town and at her father's house, and to see the
owners of the King and Queen in regard to passage.
Dickory stood radiant, speaking to no one. Master Martin Newcombe was
the lover of Mistress Kate Bonnet, but he, Dickory, was going with her
to Jamaica!
The following days fled rapidly. Long-visaged Martin Newcombe, whose
labours in behalf of his lady were truly labours of love, as their
object was to help her to go where his eyes could no longer feast upon
her, and from which place her voice would no longer reach him, went,
with a bitter taste in his mouth, to visit Madam Bonnet, to endeavour
to persuade her to deliver to her step-daughter such further belongings
as that young lady was in need of.
That forsaken person was found to be only too glad to comply with this
request, hoping earnestly that neither the property nor its owner should
ever again be seen by her. She was in high spirits, believing that she
was a much better manager of the plantation than her eccentric husband
had ever been, and she had already engaged a man to take the place of
Ben Greenway, who had been a sore trouble to her these many years. She
was buoyed up and cheered by the belief that the changes she was making
would be permanent, and that she would live and die the owner of the
plantation. She alone, in all Bridgetown and vicinity, had no doubts
whatever in regard to her husband's sailing from Barbadoes in his own
ship, and with a redundancy of rascality below its decks. The
respectability and good reputation of Major Bonnet did not blind her
eyes. She had heard him talk about the humdrum life on shore and the
reckless glories of the brave buccaneers, but she had never replied to
these remarks, fearing that she might feel obliged to object to them,
and she did not tell him how, in late years, she had heard him talk in
his sleep about standing, with brandished sword, on the deck of a pirate
ship. It was her dream, that his dreams might all come true.
So Kate's baggage was put on board the King and Queen, a very humble
vessel considering her sounding name, and Dame Charter's few belongings
were conveyed to the vessel in Dickory's canoe, the cottage being left
in charge of a poor and well-pleased neighbour.
When the day came for sailing, our friends, with not a few of the
townspeople, were gathered upon the deck, where Kate at first looked
about for Dickory, not recognising at the moment the well-dressed young
fellow who had taken his place. His Sunday costume became him well, and
he was so bravely decked out in the matter of shoes and stockings that
Kate did not recognise him.
To every one Mistress Kate Bonnet made clear that she was going to her
uncle's house in Jamaica, where she expected to meet her father; and
many were the good wishes bestowed upon her. When the time drew near
when the anchor should be heaved, Kate withdrew to one side with Mr.
Newcombe. "You must believe," said she kindly, "that everything between
us is just as it was when we used to sit on the shady bank and look out
over the ripples of the river. There will be waves instead of ripples
for us to look over now, but there will be no change either the one way
or the other."
Then they shook hands fervently; more than that would have been
unwarrantable.
The King and Queen dropped down the stream, and Master Newcombe stood
sadly on the pier, while Kate Bonnet waved her handkerchief to him and
to her friends. Dame Charter sat and smiled at the town she was leaving
and at the long stretches of the river before her. She knew not to what
future she was going, but her heart was uplifted at the thought that a
new life was opening before her son. In her little cottage and in her
little fields there was no future for him, and now to what future might
he not be sailing!
As for Dickory, he knew no more of his future than the sea-birds knew
what was going to happen to them; he cared no more for his future than
the clouds cared whether they were moving east or west. His life was
like the sparkling air in which he moved and breathed. He stood upon the
deck of the vessel, with the wind filling the sails above, while at a
little distance stood Kate Bonnet, her ribbons floating in the breeze.
He would have been glad to sing aloud, but he knew that that would not
be proper in the presence of the ladies and the captain. And so he let
his heart do his singing, which was not heard, except by himself.