WISE MR. DELAPLAINE
Early in the next forenoon Kate and her companions prepared to make
another visit to the town. Naturally she wanted to be with her father as
much as possible and to exert upon him such influences as might make him
forget, in a degree, the so-called glories of his pirate life and return
with her and her uncle to Spanish Town, where, she believed, this
misguided man might yet surrender himself to the rural joys of other
days. Nay, more, he and she might hope for still further happiness in a
Jamaica home, for Madam Bonnet would not be there.
As she came up from below, impatient to depart, Kate noticed, getting
over the side, a gentleman who had just arrived in a small boat. He was
tall and good-looking, and very handsomely attired in a rich suit such
as was worn at that day by French and Spanish noblemen. A sword with an
elaborate hilt was by his side, and on his head a high cocked hat. There
was fine lace at his wrists and bosom, and he wore silk stockings, and
silver buckles on his shoes.
Kate started at meeting here a stranger, and in such an elaborate
attire. She had read of the rich dress of men of rank in Europe, but her
eyes had never fallen upon such a costume. The gentleman advanced
quickly towards her, holding out his hand. She shrank back. "What did it
mean?"
Then in a second she saw her father's face. This fine gentleman, this
dignified and graceful man, was indeed Stede Bonnet.
He had been so thoroughly ashamed of his mean attire on the preceding
day that he had determined not again to meet his daughter and Mr.
Delaplaine in such vulgar guise. So, from the resources of the
storehouses he had drawn forth a superb suit of clothes sent westward
for the governor of one of the French colonies. He excused himself for
taking it from Blackbeard's treasure-house, not only on account of the
demands of the emergency, but because he himself had taken it before
from a merchantman.
"Father!" cried Kate, "what has happened to you? I never saw such a fine
gentleman."
Bonnet smiled with complacency, and removed his cocked hat.
"I always endeavour, my dear," said he, "to dress myself according to my
station. Yesterday, not expecting to see you, I was in a sad plight. I
would have preferred you to meet me in my naval uniform, but as that is
now, to say the least, inconvenient, and as I reside on shore in the
capacity of a merchant or business man, I attire myself to suit my
present condition. Ah! my good brother-in-law, I am glad to see you. I
may remark," he added, graciously shaking hands with Dame Charter, "that
I left my faithful Scotchman in our storehouse in the town, it being
necessary for some one to attend to our possessions there. Otherwise I
should have brought him with me, my good Dame Charter, for I am sure you
would have found his company acceptable. He is a faithful man and an
honest one, although I am bound to say that if he were less of a
Presbyterian and more of a man of the world his conversation might
sometimes be more agreeable."
Mr. Delaplaine regarded with much earnestness and no little pleasure his
transformed brother-in-law. Hope for the future now filled his heart. If
this crack-brained sugar-planter had really recovered from his mania for
piracy and had a fancy for legitimate business, his new station might be
better for him than any he had yet known. Sugar-planting was all well
enough and suitable to any gentleman, provided Madam Bonnet were not
taken with it. She would drive any man from the paths of reason unless
he possessed an uncommonly strong brain, and he did not believe that
such a brain was possessed by his brother-in-law Bonnet. The good Mr.
Delaplaine rubbed his hands together in his satisfaction. Such a
gentleman as this would be welcome in his counting-house, even if he did
but little; his very appearance would reflect credit upon the
establishment. Dame Charter kept in the background; she had never been
accustomed to associate with the aristocracy, but she did not forget
that a cat may look at a king, and her eyes were very good.
"There were always little cracks in his skull," she said to herself. "My
husband used to tell me that. Major Bonnet is quick at changing from one
thing to another, and it needs sharp wits to follow him."
After a time Major Bonnet proposed a row upon the harbour--he had
brought a large boat, with four oarsmen, for this purpose. Mr.
Delaplaine objected a little to this, fearing the presence of so many
pirate vessels, but Bonnet loftily set aside such puerile objections.
"I am the business representative of the great Blackbeard," he said,
"the most powerful pirate in the world. You are safer here than in any
other port on the American coast."
When they were out upon the water, moving against the gentle breeze,
Bonnet disclosed the object of his excursion. "I am going to take you,"
said he, "to visit some of the noted pirate ships which are anchored in
this harbour. There are vessels here which are quite famous, and
commanded by renowned Brethren of the Coast. I think you will all be
greatly interested in these, and under my convoy you need fear no
danger."
Dame Charter and Kate screamed in their fright, and Mr. Delaplaine
turned pale. "Visit pirate ships!" he cried. "Rather I would have
supposed that you would keep away from them as far as you could. For
myself, I would have them a hundred miles distant if it were possible."
Bonnet laughed loftily. "It will be visits of ceremony that we shall
pay, and with all due ceremony shall we be received. Pull out to that
vessel!" he said to the oarsmen. Then, turning to the others, he
remarked: "That sloop is the Dripping Blade, commanded by Captain Sorby,
whose name strikes terror throughout the Spanish Main. Ay! and in other
parts of the ocean, I can assure you, for he has sailed northward nearly
as far as I have, but he has not yet rivalled me. I know him, having
done business with him on shore. He is a most portentous person, as you
will soon see."
"Oh, father!" cried Kate, "don't take us there; it will kill us just to
look upon such dreadful pirates. I pray you turn the boat!"
"Oh! if Dickory were here," gasped Dame Charter, "he would turn the boat
himself; he would never allow me to be taken among those awful
wretches."
Mr. Delaplaine said nothing. It was too late to expostulate, but he
trembled as he sat.
"I cannot turn back, my dear," said Bonnet, "even if I would, for the
great Sorby is now on deck, and looking at us as we approach."
As the boat drew up by the side of the Dripping Blade the renowned Sorby
looked down over the side. He was a red-headed man; his long hair and
beard dyed yellow in some places by the sun. He was grievous to look
upon, and like to create in the mind of an imaginative person the image
of a sun-burned devil on a holiday.
"Good-day to you! Good-day, Sir Bonnet," cried the pirate captain; "come
on board, come on board, all of you, wife, daughter, father, if such
they be! We'll let down ladders and I shall feast you finely."
"Nay, nay, good Captain Sorby," replied Bonnet, with courteous dignity,
"my family and I have just stopped to pay you our respects. They have
all heard of your great prowess, for I have told them. They may never
have a chance again to look upon another of your fame."
"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 cutlass 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 hells."
"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 illustrious 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 shore, in storehouse or
on the streets of Belize, he was the fine gentleman with the silk
stockings and the tall cocked 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 circumstances. 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 ashore, 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.