CHAPTER XV

Job Howland's long legs, clad as they were in nothing more cumbersome

than a pair of under-breeches, made light work of hills and ravines as

he held his way steadily up the Delaware shore. Like most of the sailors

of that day, he had gone barefoot aboard ship since the beginning of the

warm weather and his soles were so calloused that he hardly felt the

need of shoes.

At a shack on a little cove, just before midday, he found several

fishermen, to whom he applied for clothing. They had pity on his plight,

fitted him out with a shirt, serviceable breeches and rough boots, and

gave him, as well, as much biscuit and dried fish as he wished to carry.

Thus reinforced he continued to put the leagues behind him till night,

when he slept under a convenient jack-pine. Early next morning he pushed

on and came without further adventure to the little port of New Castle,

just as the sun was setting.

Job had been in the town before and now went straight to the Red Hawk

Tavern, a small place on the water-front that catered chiefly to

seafaring men. The tavern-keeper, a brawny Swede, to whose blue eyes

half the seamen that plied along the coast were familiar, held out a

big hand to him as he entered. He had known the tall mariner when he had

been on the Virginia bark before Hornygold had captured it and had had

no news of him since. Job told him his whole story over a hot meal in

the back room, and it is merely indicative of the public mind of that

day that the big Swede had not the slightest compunction in sympathizing

with him. Indeed, in most dockside resorts it was a common thing for

pirates and honest seamen to fraternize with perfect goodwill. The

innkeeper offered him a bed for the night, and next morning directed him

to the governor's house.

Delaware, a far smaller and less developed colony than her neighbors,

Pennsylvania and Maryland, had, nevertheless, her own government,

located at New Castle. The brick house of the King's appointee was on

the High Street--the most imposing building in the town, excepting the

two churches. Job knocked at the door and was admitted by a colored

servant in livery, who gave him a chair in the wide hall and asked him

to wait there.

As the long Yankee fidgeted uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, he

heard voices raised in a room opposite, the door of which was closed.

Some one, apparently growing angry, was saying:

"Good Gad, man, are we to sit idle and let these ruffianly thieves make

off with our money--children--wives! One good man-o'-war could teach the

scamps such a lesson as would scare half of 'em off the seas! Why, if

I'd had even a good culverin aboard the _Indian Queen_ last night, I'd

have chased the beggars clear to Africa, an need were. Governor, you

_must_ see this as we see it!"

There was a reply in a lower tone and a moment later the door opened for

two gentlemen to come out. One was thin and pale and seemed a suave,

cool fellow, Job thought. He was elegantly dressed in gray. His

companion, larger and more strongly built, seemed to have become very

red in the face from suppressed emotion. His linen ruffles were awry and

his fists clenched as he emerged. Without looking at Job, he jammed his

cocked hat upon his head and strode out.

The man in gray turned to the waiting seaman and beckoned him into the

room just vacated. Job, as cool and self-possessed as if he were loading

his six-pounder under fire, told the story of his experiences aboard the

pirate sloop, finishing with an account of the attempted flight with

Jeremy, their recapture and his escape. The Governor listened gravely,

starting once when the mariner named Captain Bonnet. At the end he

nodded. "You shall have the pardon as ruled by the Crown," he said. "But

there is another side to this affair. You say you slept at the Red

Hawk. Was there no talk there of a boy stolen from the wharves late in

the evening?" Job replied that he had gone to bed early and had

breakfasted and left without hearing any gossip.

"From what you say," went on the Governor, "I should be ready to swear

that the Captain Thomas, who proclaimed himself by that name in a tavern

last night and later made off with the son of Clark Curtis, was the same

man as your Stede Bonnet." Job hastened to relate the incident of the

buccaneer's crazed speech from the brig's deck. He asked how the

kidnapper had been described. The features tallied almost exactly with

those of Stede Bonnet. In addition, the schooner, as half a dozen men

would swear, had been painted black.

Thus satisfied that Bob Curtis was aboard the _Royal James_, the

Governor wrote a formal pardon, stating that "Job Howland, late a

pirate, having duly sworn his allegiance to his Majesty the King, and

repented of all unlawful acts committed by him aforetime," was

henceforward granted full release from the penalty of his crimes and was

to be held an honest man during his good behavior. Then he took the

seaman with him and passed quickly down to one of the larger warehouses

by the dockside.

Standing in the doorway were the red-faced gentleman whom Job had seen

that morning and a large man in sea boots, easily recognized as a ship's

officer. To the rather cool greeting of the former the Governor returned

a cheerful nod as they came up. "Look here now, Curtis," he said, "I

can't spare those cannon, and that's flat, but to show that I mean well

by you, I've brought a man whom you may find of some use. Tell him

your story, Howland."

The tale was repeated, to the intense interest of its two new hearers.

"By Gad," cried Mr. Curtis, slapping his thigh, as the seaman finished,

"that's a clue worth having! We know who the scoundrel is, at least,

and, of course, he'll be sure to head for Carolina. Bonnet couldn't keep

away from that coast for more than six months if his life depended upon

it. Howland, if you care to ship again, I'll make you gun-pointer aboard

the _Indian Queen_ here. You say you want nothing better than to get a

crack at the pirate. We'll make what preparations we can and get off at

once. This young friend of yours--about Bob's age he must be--well, I'm

glad my boy's got company! Let's get to work aboard here now."

Job fell to with a good will helping the _Indian Queen's_ crew get her

ready for an encounter with the pirates. She carried only two light

serpentine cannon of an ancient make, far below the standard necessary

to combat a well-armed schooner like the _Royal James_. There were no

other ships in the harbor carrying guns, however, and it was over the

matter of procuring an armament that Curtis had had words with the

Governor. There were six good culverins mounted in the fort below the

town. The planter had wished to borrow them to fit out his vessel,

urging that it was a matter of concern to the whole colony. To this the

Governor replied that with the port stripped of defences it would be

possible for a pirate fleet to enter and plunder without difficulty,

while Curtis's ship was careering over the seven seas on a wild-goose

chase. Naturally the personal element in the affair blinded Curtis to

the truth in this argument. However, with the advent of Job Howland and

the news he bore, all differences were forgotten. The planter and

ship-owner now needed thorough, rather than hurried, preparation. He

sent his overseer on horseback to Philadelphia to arrange for the

purchase of guns, and put all the available carpenters and shipwrights

to work on the _Queen_, strengthening the improvised gun decks and

cutting the rows of ports.

The northeast gale that sprang up next day put a temporary stop to these

activities and gave Job an opportunity to get himself some decent

clothes and hobnob a while with his friend the Swede. The whole

waterfront was agog with the news of the kidnapping, and everywhere the

tall New Englander went he was surrounded by a knot of questioning

seamen. Several coasting-skippers, whose vessels lay ready-loaded at the

wharves, decided to put off sailing until some news should indicate that

the Bay was clear.

When the storm had blown itself out the artisans again set to work on

the big East Indiaman. Job, who had learned the science of gunnery under

good masters, supervised the placing of every porthole with reference to

ease and safety in firing as well as to the effectiveness of a

broadside. He had a section of the deck forward of the capstan

reinforced stoutly to bear the weight of a bow-chaser, on which he

placed some dependence in case of a running fight.

It was about six days later, in the first week of August, when two men

came into New Castle from different directions, one on horseback, the

other on foot. The first of these was Curtis's overseer, returned from

the larger colony up the Bay, and bringing the good news that a score of

cannon were lying on the dock at the foot of Market Street, in

Philadelphia, ready to be shipped aboard the _Queen_ as soon as she was

put in shape.

The other was a sour-looking man of middle height, lean and darkly

sallow, dressed in good sea clothes somewhat worn. He slipped through

the trees into a lane that led toward the wharves. Coming unobtrusively

into the Red Hawk Tavern at a little after 7 o'clock in the evening, he

asked for a pint of rum, paid for it, and began to talk politely to the

Swede. Job was eating his supper in one corner. He started when the man

entered, but made no exclamation, and shading his face from the light,

continued to watch him narrowly. It was his old shipmate, Bill Curley,

the Jamaican. The pirate finished his rum and giving the barkeep a civil

"Good-night," passed out into the ill-lighted street. When he was gone

Job rose and stepped to the bar. "Quick, Nels," he whispered, "what did

he ask you? He's one of Bonnet's crew!" The Swede replied that he had

inquired the way to Clarke Curtis's house. Job was armed with a good

pistol. He made sure it was primed and then set out up the street,

keeping a careful lookout.

Soon he detected the figure of the Jamaican in the gloom ahead, and

followed it, keeping out of earshot. The man went straight up High

Street to the town residence of the planter. There were tall shrubs in

the yard and he waited behind one of these, apparently reconnoitering.

Then he stooped, took off his shoes, and carrying them in one hand,

advanced and pinned a piece of paper to the door. Turning, he made his

way back to the gate and once on the soft earth of the road, started to

run in the direction from which he had come. This brought him, in fifty

yards, face to face with a pistol muzzle, the butt of which was held by

his old friend, Job Howland. He stopped in his tracks and at the big

Yankee's command held both arms above his head. Job jammed the nose of

his weapon against Curley's breastbone and searched him without a word.

Having removed a long dirk and a pistol from the Jamaican's waistband,

he ordered him to face about and walk back to the planter's house. When

they arrived there, Job took down the paper from the door and knocked

loudly. A negro boy, scared almost into fits at the sight of the drawn

pistol, led the way into his master's room.

Curtis rose with an ejaculation of surprise and heard Job's brief

account of the events leading to Curley's capture. Then he took the

paper and read it, alternately frowning and exclaiming. As he finished,

he passed it to the New Englander. It was a letter neatly drawn up and

written in Stede Bonnet's even, refined hand.

Aboard Sloop _Royal James,_ now

in an Inlet near the Head of the

Chesapeake Bay.

To Mr. Clarke Curtis. Esq.

of New Castle, in the Delaware Colony.

Sir:

Having now aboard us and in safe custody your son Robert Curtis, we

offer you the following terms for his release and safe return to

you. Namely, to wit:

First, that you shall make no attempt to attack us in an armed

vessel, or otherwise to employ force upon us.

Second, that you shall send a single man, carrying or otherwise

bringing, provided he is alone, a sum in gold amounting to 5,000

pounds sterling.

Third, that this man shall be on the sandbars at the entrance to

the Cape Fear River in Carolina at noon on the 10th day of

September in this year of grace 1718, ready to deliver the sum

before-mentioned and to take in charge the boy, also

before-mentioned.

Failing the accomplishment of any or all of these terms the boy

will be immediately put to death without stay or pity.

Expecting you to act with discretion and for the welfare of your

son,

Ever your humble servant,

Captain Thomas.

(Ship _Royal James_)

"Well," remarked Job as he finished, "we know where they'll be on

September the 10th, at all events. As for our friend here, we can safely

turn him over to the constable, I reckon. Here, Curley--march!" And he

ushered the Jamaican out as they had entered. The gaol was only a few

doors down a cross street, and Job had soon delivered his prisoner into

capable hands. Then he returned to Curtis's house.

The shipowner was pacing up and down his library, where the paper lay

half-crumpled on the floor. He looked up as Job entered and his brow was

wrinkled deep with lines of worry.

"Gad!" he exclaimed, "this is awful! Must we actually give up trying to

punish the dog? Why, he has us at his mercy, it seems. The money I can

raise, I believe, and it's not the thought of losing it that cuts me.

It's letting that gallows-hound go unscathed. And if anything should

slip in the plans--good God, it's too terrible to think of!"

He dropped into an armchair, his head resting in his hands. Job

understood something of the father's anguish and refrained from any

comment. Standing by the broad oak mantelpiece, he mused over the

chances of the boy's escape alive. Knowing Bonnet's eccentricities, he

would have been the last to urge an armed attack in defiance of the

terms in the letter. He had not the slightest doubt that the Captain,

half-insane as he was, would be capable of even more dastardly crimes

than the one he now threatened. Gradually an idea took form in the

ex-pirate's brain. It was a bold one and needed to be executed boldly if

at all. When the grief-stricken gentleman raised his head, Job turned

and faced him. "Mr. Curtis," he said, "there's one thing to be done, as

far's I can see, and I believe it's for me to do it. I've told you about

Jeremy Swan, the boy we took aboard up north along. I think most as much

o' getting him out o' this scrape as you do o' savin' your lad. Now

here's my scheme. I know that coast around Cape Fear like I know the

black schooner's deck. I'll get down there about the first o' September,

an' I reckon they'll be there near the same time. I'll sneak up as close

as I can in a small boat, then crawl acrost the bars till I'm near their

moorin', an' swim out after dark, so I can look over the lay o' things

aboard. It's just possible that I can get a word to one o' the boys and

maybe take 'em off without bein' caught. You can be lyin' to, somewhere

out o' sight, and' if we get clean away, we'll take the _Queen_ around

an' blow Bonnet out o' water. That's the best I can offer, but if it

works it'll do the job up brown."

Curtis had listened earnestly, amazed at the daring of the man's

suggestion. He reached out a broad hand and took Job's hairy fist in a

grip that expressed the depth of his feelings. His eyes were blinking

and he could not trust his voice, but the long Yankee knew that the risk

he had offered to undertake was appreciated. They talked far into the

night, planning the details of the attempt and discussing measures to be

employed should it fail. They still had the best part of a month in

which to work.

It was Job's suggestion that they should interest the governments of

North and South Carolina to help in destroying Bonnet's craft. The

pirate's port of departure had been Charles Town and he was to be

fought in waters adjacent to both the colonies. It seemed not

unreasonable to hope that there was aid to be obtained there. Next day

they asked the Governor's sanction to this proposal, and were so far

rewarded that in less than another twenty-four hours a messenger had

been dispatched to Wilmington and Charles Town bearing letters under the

colony seal.

The Black Buccaneer · 第 15 / 36 章