CHAPTER XX

ONE NORTH, ONE SOUTH

If our dear Kate Bonnet had really imagined, in her inexperienced mind,

that it would be a matter of days, and perhaps weeks, to procure a

vessel in which she, with her uncle and good Dame Charter, could sail

forth to save her father, she was wonderfully mistaken. Not a

free-footed vessel of any class came into the harbour of Kingston.

Sloops and barks and ships in general arrived and departed, but they

were all bound by one contract or another, and were not free to sail

away, here and there, for a short time or a long time, at the word of a

maiden's will.

Mr. Delaplaine was a rich man, but he was a prudent one, and he had not

the money to waste in wild rewards, even if there had been an

opportunity for him to offer them. Kate was disconcerted, disappointed,

and greatly cast down.

The vengeful Badger was scouring the seas in search of her father,

commissioned to destroy him, and eager in his hot passion to do it; and

here was she, with a respite for that father, if only she were able to

carry it.

Day after day Kate waited for notice of a craft, not only one which

might bring Dickory back but one which might carry her away.

The optimism of Dame Charter would not now bear her up, the load which

had been put upon it was too big. Everything about her was melancholy

and depressed, and Dickory had not come back. So many things had

happened since he went away, and so many days had passed, and she had

entirely exhausted her plentiful stock of very good reasons why her son

had not been able to return to her.

The Governor was very kind; frequently he came to the Delaplaine

mansion, and always he brought assurances that, although he had not

heard anything from Captain Vince, there was every reason to suppose

that before long he would find some way to send him his commands that

Captain Bonnet should not be injured, but should be brought back safely

to Jamaica.

And then Kate would say, with tears in her eyes: "But, your Excellency,

we cannot wait for that; we must go, we must deliver ourselves your

message to the captain of the Badger. Who else will do it? And we cannot

trust to chance; while we are trusting and hoping, my father may die."

At such moments Mr. Delaplaine would sometimes say in his heart, not

daring to breathe such thoughts aloud, "And what could be better than

that he should die and be done with it? He is a thorn in the side of the

young, the good, and the beautiful, and as long as he lives that thorn

will rankle."

Moreover, not only did the good merchant harbour such a wicked thought,

but Dame Charter thought something of the very same kind, though

differently expressed. If he had never been born, she would say to

herself, how much better it would have been; but then the thought would

come crowding in, how bad that would have been for Dickory and for the

plans she was making for him.

In the midst of all this uncertainty, this anxiety, this foreboding,

almost this despair, there came a sunburst which lighted up the souls of

these three good people, which made their eyes sparkle and their hearts

swell with thankfulness. This happiness came in the shape of a letter

from Martin Newcombe.

The letter was a long one and told many things. The first part of it

Kate read to herself and kept to herself, for in burning words it

assured her that he loved her and would always love her, and that no

misfortune of her own nor wrongdoings of others could prevent him from

offering her his most ardent and unchangeable affection. Moreover, he

begged and implored her to accept that affection, to accept it now that

it might belong to her forever. Happiness, he said, seemed opening

before her; he implored her to allow him to share that happiness with

her. The rest of the letter was read most jubilantly aloud. It told of

news which had come to Newcombe from Honduras Gulf: great news,

wonderful news, which would make the heart sing. Major Bonnet was at

Belize. He had given up all connection with piracy and was now engaged

in mercantile pursuits. This was positively true, for the person who had

sent the news to Bridgetown had seen Major Bonnet and had talked to him,

and had been informed by him that he had given up his ship and was now

an accountant and commission agent doing business at that place.

The sender of this great news also stated that Ben Greenway was with

Major Bonnet, working as his assistant--and here Dame Charter sat

open-mouthed and her heart nearly stopped beating--young Dickory Charter

had also been in the port and had gone away, but was expected ere long

to return.

Kate stood on her tip-toes and waved the letter over her head.

"To Belize, my dear uncle, to Belize! If we cannot get there any other

way we must go in a boat with oars. We must fly, we must not wait.

Perhaps he is seeking in disguise to escape the vengeance of the wicked

Vince; but that matters not; we know where he is; we must fly, uncle,

we must fly!"

The opportunities for figurative flying were not wanting. There were no

vessels in the port which might be engaged for an indeterminate voyage

in pursuit of a British man-of-war, but there was a goodly sloop about

to sail in ballast for Belize. Before sunset three passages were engaged

upon this sloop.

Kate sat long into the night, her letter in her hand. Here was a lover

who loved her; a lover who had just sent to her not only love, but life;

a lover who had no intention of leaving her because of her overshadowing

sorrow, but who had lifted that sorrow and had come to her again. Ay

more, she knew that if the sorrow had not been lifted he would have come

to her again.

The Governor of Jamaica was a man of hearty sympathies, and these worked

so strongly in him that when Kate and her uncle came to bring him the

good news, he kissed her and vowed that he had not heard anything so

cheering for many a year.

"I have been greatly afraid of that Vince," he said. "Although I did not

mention it, I have been greatly afraid of him; he is a terrible fellow

when he is crossed, and so hot-headed that it is easy to cross him.

There were so many chances of his catching your father and so few

chances of my orders catching him. But it is all right now; you will be

able to reach your father before Vince can possibly get to him, even

should he be able to do him injury in his present position. Your father,

my dear, must have been as mad as a March hare to embark upon a career

of a pirate when all the time his heart was really turned to ways of

peace, to planting, to mercantile pursuits, to domestic joys."

Here, now, was to be a voyage of conquest. No matter what his plans

were; no matter what he said; no matter what he might lose, or how he

might suffer by being taken into captivity and being carried away, Major

Stede Bonnet, late of Bridgetown and still later connected with some

erratic voyages upon the high seas, was to be taken prisoner by his

daughter and carried away to Spanish Town, where the actions of his

disordered mind were to be condoned and where he would be safe from all

vengeful Vinces and from all temptations of the flaunting skull and

bones.

It was a bright morning when, with a fair wind upon her starboard bow,

the sloop Belinda, bearing the jubilant three, sailed southward on her

course to the coast of Honduras; and it was upon that same morning that

the good ship Revenge, bearing the pirate Blackbeard and his handsomely

uniformed lieutenant, sailed northward, the same fair wind upon her port

bow.

Kate Bonnet: The Romance of a Pirate's Daughter · 第 20 / 40 章