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.