I HAVE NO RIGHT; I AM A PIRATE
As has been made plain, Captain Bonnet of the Revenge was a punctilious
man when the rules of society were concerned, be that society official,
high-toned, or piratical. Thus it was a positive duty, in his mind, to
return Blackbeard's visit on the next day, but until afternoon he was
not able to do so on account of the difficulty of getting a sober and
decently behaved boat's crew who should row him over.
Black Paul, the sailing-master, had returned to his vessel early in the
morning, feeling the necessity of keeping watch over the cargo, but most
of the men came over much later, while some of them did not come at all.
Bonnet was greatly inclined to punish with an unwonted severity this
breach of rules, but Black Paul assured him that it was always the
custom for the crew of a newly arrived vessel to go ashore and have a
good time, and that if they were denied this privilege they would be
sure to mutiny, and he might be left without any crew at all. Bonnet
grumbled and swore, but, as he was aware there were several things
concerning a nautical life with which he was not familiar, he determined
to let pass this trespass.
Dressed in his finest clothes, and even better than the day before, he
was followed into the boat by Ben Greenway, who vowed his captain should
never travel without his chaplain, who, if his words were considered,
would be the most valuable officer on the vessel.
"Come, then, Greenway," said Bonnet; "you have troubled me so much on my
own vessel that now, perchance, you may be able to do me some service on
that of another. Anyway, I should like to have at least one decent
person in my train, who, an you come not, will be wholly missing. And
Dickory may come too, if he like it."
But Dickory did not like it. He hated the big black pirate, and cared
not if he should never see him again, so he stayed behind.
When Bonnet mounted to the deck of Blackbeard's vessel he found there a
very different pirate captain from the one who had called upon him the
day before. There were no tails to the great black beard, there were few
pistols visible, and Captain Bonnet's host received him with a certain
salt-soaked, sun-browned, hairy, and brawny hospitality which did not
sit badly upon him. There was meat, there was drink, and then the two
captains and Greenway walked gravely over the vessel, followed by a
hundred eyes, and before long by many a coarse and jeering laugh which
Bonnet supposed were directed at sturdy Ben Greenway, deeming it quite
natural, though improper, that the derision of these rough fellows
should be excited by the appearance among them of a prim and sedate
Scotch Presbyterian.
But that crew of miscreants had all heard of the derisive title which
had been given to Bonnet, and now they saw without the slightest
difficulty how little he knew of the various nautical points to which
Blackbeard continually called his attention.
The vessel was dirty, it was ill-appointed; there was an air of reckless
disorder which showed itself everywhere; but, apart from his evident
distaste for dirt and griminess, the captain of the Revenge seemed to be
very well satisfied with everything he saw. When he passed a small gun
pointed across the deck, and with a nightcap hung upon a capstan bar
thrust into its muzzle, there was such a great laugh that Bonnet looked
around to see what the imprudent Greenway might be doing.
Many were the nautical points to which Blackbeard called his guest's
attention and many the questions the grim pirate asked, but in almost
all cases of the kind the tall gentleman with the cocked hat replied
that he generally left those things to his sailing-master, being so
much occupied with matters of more import.
Although he found no fault and made no criticisms, Bonnet was very much
disgusted. Such a disorderly vessel, such an apparently lawless crew,
excited his most severe mental strictures; and, although the great
Blackbeard was to-day a very well-behaved person, Bonnet could not
understand how a famous and successful captain should permit his vessel
and his crew to get into such an unseamanlike and disgraceful condition.
On board the Revenge, as his sailing-master had remarked, there was the
neatness of his kitchen and his store-houses; and, although he did not
always know what to do with the nautical appliances which surrounded
him, he knew how to make them look in good order. But he made few
remarks, favourable or otherwise, and held himself loftier than before,
with an air as if he might have been an admiral entire instead of
resembling one only in clothes, and with ceremonious and even
condescending politeness followed his host wherever he was led, above
decks or below.
Ben Greenway had gone with his master about the ship with much of the
air of one who accompanies a good friend to the place of execution.
Regardless of gibes or insults, whether they were directed at Bonnet or
himself, he turned his face neither to the right nor to the left, and
apparently regarded nothing that he heard. But while endeavouring to
listen as little as possible to what was going on around him, he heard a
great deal; but, strange to say, the railing and scurrility of the
pirates did not appear to have a depressing influence upon his mind. In
fact, he seemed in somewhat better spirits than when he came on board.
"Whatever he may do, whatever he may say, an' whatever he may swear,"
said the Scotchman to himself, "he is no' like ane of these. Try as he
may, he canna descend so low into the blackness o' evil as these sons o'
perdition. Although he has done evil beyond a poor mortal's computation,
he walks like a king amang them. Even that Blackbeard, striving to be
decent for an hour or two, knows a superior when he meets him."
When they had finished the tour of the vessel, Blackbeard conducted his
guest to his own cabin and invited him to be seated by a little table.
Bonnet sat down, placing his high-plumed cocked hat upon the bench
beside him. He did not want anything more to eat or to drink, and he
was, in fact, quite ready to take his leave. The vessel had not pleased
him and had given him an idea of the true pirate's life which he had
never had before. On the Revenge he mingled little with the crew,
scarcely ever below decks, and his own quarters were as neat and
commodious as if they were on a fine vessel carrying distinguished
passengers. Dirt and disorder, if they existed, were at least not
visible to him.
But, although he had no desire ever to make another visit to the ship of
the great Blackbeard, he would remember his position and be polite and
considerate now that he was here. Moreover, the savage desperado of the
day before, dressed like a monkey and howling like an Indian, seemed now
to be endeavouring to soften himself a little and to lay aside some of
his savage eccentricities in honour of the captain of that fine ship,
the Revenge. So, clothed in a calm dignity, Bonnet waited to hear what
his host had further to say.
Blackbeard seated himself on the other side of the table, on which he
rested his massive arms. Behind him Ben Greenway stood in the doorway.
For a few moments Blackbeard sat and gazed at Bonnet, and then he said:
"Look ye, Stede Bonnet, do you know you are now as much out of place as
a red herring would be at the top of the mainmast?"
Bonnet flushed. "I fear, Captain Blackbeard," he said, "I very much fear
me that you are right; this is no place for me. I have paid my respects
to you, and now, if you please, I will take my leave. I have not been
gratified by the conduct of your crew, but I did not expect that their
captain would address me in such discourteous words." And with this he
reached out his hand for his hat.
Blackbeard brought down his hand heavily upon the table.
"Sit where you are!" he exclaimed. "I have that to say to you which you
shall hear whether you like my vessel, my crew, or me. You are no
sailor, Stede Bonnet of Bridgetown, and you don't belong to the free
companions, who are all good men and true and can sail the ships they
command. You are a defrauder and a cheat; you are nothing but a
landsman, a plough-tail sugar-planter!"
At this insult Bonnet rose to his feet and his hand went to his sword.
"Sit down!" roared Blackbeard; "an you do not listen to me, I'll cut off
this parley and your head together. Sit down, sir."
Bonnet sat down, pale now and trembling with rage. He was not a coward,
but on board this ship he must give heed to the words of the desperado
who commanded it.
"You have no right," continued Blackbeard, "to strut about on the
quarter-deck of that fine vessel, the Revenge; you have no right to
hoist above you the Jolly Roger, and you have no right to lie right and
left and tell people you are a pirate. A pirate, forsooth! you are no
pirate. A pirate is a sailor, and you are no sailor! You are no better
than a blind man led by a dog: if the dog breaks away from him he is
lost, and if the sailing-masters you pick up one after another break
away from you, you are lost. It is a cursed shame, Stede Bonnet, and it
shall be no longer. At this moment, by my own right and for the sake of
every man who sails under the Jolly Roger, I take away from you the
command of the Revenge."
Now Bonnet could not refrain from springing to his feet. "Take from me
the Revenge!" he cried, "my own vessel, bought with my own money! And
how say you I am not a pirate? From Massachusetts down the coast into
these very waters I have preyed upon commerce, I have taken prizes, I
have burned ships, I have made my name a terror."
Now his voice grew stronger and his tones more angry.
"Not a pirate!" he cried. "Go ask the galleons and the merchantmen I
have stripped and burned; go ask their crews, now wandering in misery
upon desert shores, if they be not already dead. And by what right, I
ask, do you come to such an one as I am and declare that, having put me
in the position of a prisoner on your ship, you will take away my own?"
Blackbeard gazed at him with half-closed eyes, a malicious smile upon
his face.
"I have no right," he said; "I need no right; _I_ am a pirate!"
At these words Bonnet's legs weakened under him, and he sank down upon
the bench. As he did so he glanced at Ben Greenway as if he were the
only person on earth to whom he could look for help, but to his
amazement he saw before him a face almost jubilant, and beheld the
Scotchman, his eyes uplifted and his hands clasped as if in thankful
prayer.