CHAPTER II
A FRUIT-BASKET AND A FRIEND
Major Stede Bonnet, the father of Kate, whose mother had died when thechild was but a year old, was a middle-aged Englishman of a fair estate,in the island of Barbadoes. He had been an officer in the army, was welleducated and intelligent, and now, in vigorous middle life, had become aconfirmed country gentleman. His herds and his crops were, to him, theprincipal things on earth, with the exception of his daughter; for,although he had married for the second time, there were a good manythings which he valued more than his wife. And it had thereforeoccasioned a good deal of surprise, and more or less small talk amonghis neighbours, that Major Bonnet should want to buy a ship. But he hadbeen a soldier in his youth, and soldiers are very apt to change theirmanner of living, and so, if Major Bonnet had grown tired of his farmand had determined to go into commercial enterprises, it was not,perhaps, a very amazing thing that a military man who had turned plantershould now turn to be something else.
Madam Bonnet had heard of the ship, although she had not been toldanything about her step-daughter taking a trip in her, and if she hadheard she might not have objected. She had regarded, in an apparentlycareless manner, her husband's desire to navigate the sea; for, nomatter to what point he might happen to sail, his ship would take himaway from Barbadoes, and that would very well suit her. She was gettingtired of Major Bonnet. She did not believe he had ever been a very goodsoldier; she was positively sure that he was not a good farmer; and shehad the strongest kind of doubt as to his ability as a commercial man.But as this new business would free her from him, at least for a time,she was well content; and, although she should feel herself somewhathandicapped by the presence of Kate, she did not intend to allow thatyoung lady to interfere with her plans and purposes during the absenceof the head of the house. So she went her way, saying nothing derisiveabout the nautical life, except what she considered it necessary for herto do, in order to maintain her superior position in the household.
Major Bonnet was now very much engaged and a good deal disturbed, for hefound that projected sailing, even in one's own craft, is not alwayssmooth sailing. He was putting his vessel in excellent order, and wasfitting her out generously in the way of stores and all manner ofnautical needfuls, not forgetting the guns necessary for defence inthese somewhat disordered times, and his latest endeavours were towardsthe shipping of a suitable crew. Seafaring men were not scarce in theport of Bridgetown, but Major Bonnet, now entitled to be called"Captain," was very particular about his crew, and it took him a longtime to collect suitable men.
As he was most truly a landsman, knowing nothing about the sea or thevarious intricate methods of navigating a vessel thereupon, he wascompelled to secure a real captain--one who would be able to take chargeof the vessel and crew, and who would do, and have done, in a thoroughlyseamanlike manner, what his nominal skipper should desire and ordain.
This absolutely necessary personage had been secured almost as soon asthe vessel had been purchased, before any of the rest of the crew hadsigned ship's articles; and it was under his general supervision thatthe storing and equipment had been carried on. His name was Sam Loftus.He was a big man with a great readiness of speech. There were, perhaps,some things he could not do, but there seemed to be nothing that he wasnot able to talk about. As has been said, the rest of the crew came inslowly, but they did come, and Major Bonnet told his daughter that whenhe had secured four more men, it was his intention to leave port.
"And sail for Jamaica?" she exclaimed.
"Oh, yes," he said, with an affectionate smile, "and I will leave youwith your Uncle Delaplaine, where you can stay while I make some littlecruises here and there."
"And so I am really to go?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling.
"Really to go," said he.
"And what may I pack up?" she asked, thinking of her step-mother.
"Not much," he said, "not much. We will be able to find at Spanish Townsomething braver in the way of apparel than anything you now possess. Itwill be some days before we sail, and I shall have quietly conveyed onboard such belongings as you need."
She was very happy, and she laughed.
"Yours will be an easily laden ship," said she, "for you take in withyou no great store of goods for traffic. But I suppose you design topick up your cargo among the islands where you cruise, and at a lesscost, perchance, than it could be procured here?"
"Yes, yes," he said; "you have hit it fairly, my little girl, you havehit it fairly."
New annoyances now began to beset Major Bonnet. What his daughter hadremarked in pleasantry, the people of the town began to talk aboutunpleasantly. Here was a good-sized craft about to set sail, with littleor no cargo, but with a crew apparently much larger than herrequirements, but not yet large enough for the desires of her owner. Tobe sure, as Major Bonnet did not know anything about ships, he was boundto do something odd when he bought one and set forth to sail upon her,but there were some odd things which ought to be looked into; and therewere people who advised that the attention of the colonial authoritiesshould be drawn to this ship of their farmer townsman. Major Bonnet hadsuch a high reputation as a good citizen, that there were few people whothought it worth while to trouble themselves about his new businessventure, but a good many disagreeable things came to the ears of SamLoftus, who reported them to his employer, and it was agreed betweenthem that it would be wise for them to sail as soon as they could, evenif they did not wait for the few men they had considered to be needed.
Early upon a cloudy afternoon, Major Bonnet and his daughter went out ina small boat to look at his vessel, the Sarah Williams, which was thenlying a short distance below the town.
"Now, Kate," said the good Major Bonnet, when they were on board, "Ihave fitted up a little room for you below, which I think you will findcomfortable enough during the voyage to Jamaica. I will take you withme when I return to the house, and then you can make up a little packageof clothes which it will be easy to convey to the river bank when thetime shall come for you to depart. I cannot now say just when that timewill arrive; it may be in the daytime or it may be at night, but it willbe soon, and I will give you good notice, and I will come up the riverfor you in a boat. But now I am very busy, and I will leave you tobecome acquainted with the Sarah Williams, which, for a few days, willbe your home. I shall be obliged to row over to the town for, perhaps,half an hour, but Ben Greenway will be here to attend to anything youneed until I return."
Ben Greenway was a Scotchman, who had for a long time been MajorBonnet's most trusted servant. He was a good farmer, was apt atcarpenter work, and knew a good deal about masonry. A few months ago,any one living in that region would have been likely to say, if thesubject had been brought up, that without Ben Greenway Major Bonnetcould not get along at all, not even for a day, for he depended upon himin so many ways. And yet, now the master of the estate was about todepart, for nobody knew how long, and leave his faithful servant behind.The reason he gave was, that Ben could not be spared from the farm; butpeople in general, and Ben in particular, thought this very poorreasoning. Any sort of business which made it necessary for MajorBonnet to separate himself from Ben Greenway was a very poor business,and should not be entered upon.
The deck of the Sarah Williams presented a lively scene as Kate stoodupon the little quarter-deck and gazed forward. The sailors were walkingabout and sitting about, smoking, talking, or coiling things away. Therewere people from the shore with baskets containing fruit and other waresfor sale, and all stirring and new and very interesting to Miss Kate asshe stood, with her ribbons flying in the river breeze.
"Who is that young fellow?" she said to Ben Greenway, who was standingby her, "the one with the big basket? It seems to me I have seen himbefore."
"Oh, ay!" said Ben, "he has been on the farm. That is Dickory Charter,whose father was drowned out fishing a few years ago. He is a good lad,an' boards all ships comin' in or goin' out to sell his wares, for hismither leans on him now, having no ither
."
The youth, who seemed to feel that he was being talked about, now walkedaft, and held up his basket. He was a handsome youngster, lightly cladand barefooted; and, although not yet full grown, of a strong and activebuild. Kate beckoned to him, and bought an orange.
"An' how is your mither, Dickory?" said Ben.
"Right well, I thank you," said he, and gazed at Kate, who was biting ahole in her orange.
Then, as he turned and went away, having no reason to expect to sellanything more, Kate remarked to Ben: "That is truly a fine-looking youngfellow. He walks with such strength and ease, like a deer or a cat."
"That comes from no' wearin' shoes," said Ben; "but as for me, I wouldlike better to wear shoes an' walk mair stiffly."
Now there came aft a sailor, who touched his cap and told Ben Greenwaythat he was wanted below to superintend the stowing some cases of thecaptain's liquors. So Kate, left to herself, began to think about whatshe should pack into her little bundle. She would make it very small,for the fewer things she took with her the more she would buy at SpanishTown. But the contents of her package did not require much thought, andshe soon became a little tired staying there by herself, and thereforeshe was glad to see young Dickory, with his orange-basket, walking aft.
"I don't want any more oranges," she said, when he was near enough, "butperhaps you may have other fruit?"
He came up to her and put down his basket. "I have bananas, but perhapsyou don't like them?"
"Oh, yes, I do!" she answered.
But, without offering to show her the fruit, Dickory continued:"There's one thing I don't like, and that's the men on board your ship."
"What do you mean?" she asked, amazed.
"Speak lower," he said; and, as he spoke, he bethought himself that itmight be well to hold out towards her a couple of bananas.
"They're a bad, hard lot of men," he said. "I heard that from more thanone person. You ought not to stay on this ship."
"And what do you know about it, Mr. Impudence?" she asked, with browsuplifted. "I suppose my father knows what is good for me."
"But he is not here," said Dickory.
Kate looked steadfastly at him. He did not seem as ruddy as he had been.And then she looked out upon the forward deck, and the thought came toher that when she had first noticed these men it had seemed to her thatthey were, indeed, a rough, hard lot. Kate Bonnet was a brave girl, butwithout knowing why she felt a little frightened.
"Your name is Dickory, isn't it?" she said.
He looked up quickly, for it pleased him to hear her use his name."Indeed it is," he answered.
"Well, Dickory," said she, "I wish you would go and find Ben Greenway. Ishould like to have him with me until my father comes back."
He turned, and then stopped for an instant. He said in a clear voice: "Iwill go and get the shilling changed." And then he hurried away.
He was gone a long time, and Kate could not understand it. Surely theSarah Williams was not so big a ship that it would take all this time tolook for Ben Greenway. But he did come back, and his face seemed evenless ruddy than when she had last seen it. He came up close to her, andbegan handling his fruit.
"I don't want to frighten you," he said, "but I must tell you aboutthings. I could not find Ben Greenway, and I asked one of the men abouthim, feigning that he owed me for some fruit, and the man looked atanother man and laughed, and said that he had been sent for in a hurry,and had gone ashore in a boat."
"I cannot believe that," said Kate; "he would not go away and leave me."
Dickory could not believe it either, and could offer no explanation.
Kate now looked anxiously over the water towards the town, but no fatherwas to be seen.
"Now let me tell you what I found out," said Dickory, "you must know it.These men are wicked robbers. I slipped quietly among them to find outsomething, with my shilling in my hand, ready to ask somebody to change,if I was noticed."
"Well, what next?" laying her hand on his arm.
"Oh, don't do that!" he said quickly; "better take hold of a banana. Ispied that Big Sam, who is sailing-master, and a black-headed fellowtaking their ease behind some boxes, smoking, and I listened with allsharpness. And Sam, he said to the other one--not in these words, but inlanguage not fit for you to hear--what he would like to do would be toget off on the next tide. And when the other fellow asked him why hedidn't go then and leave the fool--meaning your father--to go back tohis farm, Big Sam answered, with a good many curses, that if he could doit he would drop down the river that very minute and wait at the baruntil the water was high enough to cross, but that it was impossiblebecause they must not sail until your father had brought his cash-box onboard. It would be stupid to sail without that cash-box."
"Dickory," said she, "I am frightened; I want to go on shore, and I wantto see my father and tell him all these things."
"But there is no boat," said Dickory; "every boat has left the ship."
"But you have one," said she, looking over the side.
"It is a poor little canoe," he answered, "and I am afraid they wouldnot let me take you away, I having no orders to do so."
Kate was about to open her mouth to make an indignant reply, when heexclaimed, "But here comes a boat from the town; perhaps it is yourfather!"
She sprang to the rail. "No, it is not," she exclaimed; "it holds butone man, who rows."
She stood, without a word, watching the approaching boat, Dickory doingthe same, but keeping himself out of the general view. The boat camealongside and the oarsman handed up a note, which was presently broughtto Kate by Big Sam, young Dickory Charter having in the meantime slippedbelow with his basket.
"A note from your father, Mistress Bonnet," said the sailing-master. Andas she read it he stood and looked upon her.
"My father tells me," said Kate, speaking decidedly but quietly, "thathe will come on board very soon, but I do not wish to wait for him. Iwill go back to the town. I have affairs which make it necessary for meto return immediately. Tell the man who brought the note that I will goback with him."
Big Sam raised his eyebrows and his face assumed a look of trouble.
"It grieves me greatly, Mistress Bonnet," he said, "but the man hasgone. He was ordered not to wait here."
"Shout after him!" cried Kate; "call him back!"
Sam stepped to the rail and looked over the water. "He is too far away,"he said, "but I will try." And then he shouted, but the man paid noattention, and kept on rowing to shore.
"I thought it was too far," he said, "but your father will be backsoon; he sent that message to me. And now, fair mistress, what can we dofor you? Shall it be that we send you some supper? Or, as your cabin isready, would you prefer to step down to it and wait there for yourfather?"
"No," said she, "I will wait here for my father. I want nothing."
So, with a bow he strode away, and presently Dickory came back. She drewnear to him and whispered. "Dickory," she said, "what shall I do? ShallI scream and wave my handkerchief? Perhaps they may see and hear me fromthe town."
"No," said Dickory, "I would not do that. The night is coming on, andthe sky is cloudy. And besides, if you make a noise, those fellows mightdo something."
"Oh, Dickory, what shall I do?"
"You must wait for your father," he said; "he must be here soon, and themoment you see him, call to him and make him take you to shore. Youshould both of you get away from this vessel as soon as you can."
For a moment the girl reflected. "Dickory," said she, "I wish you wouldtake a message for me to Master Martin Newcombe. He may be able to gethere to me even before my father arrives."
Dickory Charter knew Mr. Newcombe, and he had heard what many people hadtalked about, that he was courting Major Bonnet's daughter. The daybefore Dickory would not have cared who the young planter was courting,but this evening, even to his own surprise, he cared very much. He wasintensely interested in Kate, and he did not desire to help MartinNewcombe to take an interest in her. Bes
ides, he spoke honestly as hesaid: "And who would there be to take care of you? No, indeed, I willnot leave you."
"Then row to the town," said she, "and have a boat sent for me."
He shook his head. "No," he said, "I will not leave you."
Her eyes flashed. "You should do what you are commanded to do!" and inher excitement she almost forgot to whisper.
He shook his head and left her.
Kate Bonnet: The Romance of a Pirate's Daughter Page 2