by Howard Pyle
It was a very different story that Jack listened to that night as Morton told it in his slow sentences, sitting in the red light of the crackling faggot fire. Morton said that the Frenchman had fought for over half an hour before he had surrendered. Two of the pirates had been killed and four wounded, and the Frenchman had lost thirteen in killed and wounded. He said that there were a number of Englishmen aboard — castaways, whom the Frenchmen had picked up off a water-logged bark that had been driven out of its course to the southward in a storm off the Bermudas. The Frenchmen, he said, would have surrendered a deal sooner than they did, only that the Englishmen had lent a hand in the fighting. He said that the English captain and a passenger from the English bark were the only men on deck when they came aboard, and it was the English captain who had informed them of the precious nature of the Frenchman’s cargo. Dred asked incidentally what had been done with the prisoners, and Morton said that Blackbeard had, at first, been all for throwing the Englishmen overboard, because they had fought against their own blood, but that he (Morton) and the boatswain of the other sloop had dissuaded him from his first intention, and that finally the crew and passengers of the prize had all been set adrift in three of the Frenchman’s boats, though without compass and with only provisions and water for three days. This was the story that Morton told, and it was very different from Blackbeard’s statement made before Governor Eden.
Jack listened most intently. It all sounded very strange and remote — that savage piracy upon a poor merchantman, — and yet it was all singularly real as Morton told it. He wished very strongly that he had been along. What a thing it would have been to remember in after years! What a thing to have talked about if he should ever get back again to Southampton!
Dred asked who of their own men had been hurt.
“Swigget was killed nigh the first fire the parleyvoos gave us,” Morton answered, “and Robinson was shot a while later and died whiles they were carrying him below. T’others’ll all get well like enough, unless it be black Tom, who was shot in the neck.”
Jack did not know Robinson, but he recollected Swigget very distinctly as being one of the crew that had made the descent upon Marlborough. He had not seen him since those days, but it seemed very strange, almost shocking, to think that he who had been so strong and well at that time, who had snapped his finger in time to the captain’s guitar music and who had been so exultant when he had won at cards, that he should now be suddenly dead!
“‘Twere a hot fight while it lasted,” Morton was saying. “But, oh, Chris, you should just ha’ seen that there bark — full, chock up to the hatches, with sugar, and twenty hogsheads of rum in the forehold besides. ’Twas the chance of your life you missed, Chris Dred.”
There was a long pause, and then Dred asked, “Where is she now?”
“She’s lying down below Stagg’s Island,” said Morton.
What, during that little pause, was the intangible cause that should have so suddenly have recalled to Jack’s memory the scene of yesterday — the swamp, and the poor fugitive girl crouching at the foot of the cypress-tree? Some expression of Dred’s face, perhaps; some indefinable motion of his hand. His mind rushed back to that other event, and a recollection of the young lady’s white, woeful face — a remembrance of the touch of her cold chin upon his hand, stood out very strongly upon his memory.
All the while Morton had been talking, Blackbeard had sat at the table in sullen silence, taking no part in, and not even seeming to hear, what was said. Morton still smoked his pipe, and now the kitchen was pungent with rank tobacco smoke. Meantime Betty Teach had been bustling about, and had brought out a bottle of rum and some glasses, half a ham, and a lot of corn bread. Then she set a couple of pewter plates with knives and forks upon the table. Blackbeard cut himself a slice of ham and helped himself to a piece of bread, and by and by Morton took his place at the table also, drawing up his chair with a noisy scrape upon the floor.
CHAPTER XXXII
A SCENE
THE NEWS THAT the pirates had brought in a rich prize of rum and sugar flew very quickly up into the town, for the very next morning Mr. Knight came down to see the pirate captain, bringing with him a man who was a stranger to Jack. He afterward found that the stranger was a Captain Hotchkiss, master of a schooner bound for the port of Philadelphia. Captain Hotchkiss was an honest merchantman as the times went, but he was quite willing to undertake to dispose of the captured rum in the port for which he was bound.
The rain had cleared away, and soon after breakfast Jack had gone down to the wharf. One of the pirates named Bolles — a young fellow not much older than himself — had come up from Ocracock aboard the sloop. He had been wounded in the fight, and he carried his arm in a sling. He had not come up from the landing for his breakfast, and Betty Teach had sent something down to him by Jack — a big, cold roast yam, some corn bread, and a thick slice of bacon. The young pirate had spread his meal out on top of one of the piles, and was making shift to eat it with his left hand. Jack stood leaning against the other side of the pile, watching his thick-featured, heavy face as he ate.
“Ye ought to ha’ been along,” said the young pirate, munching away with his mouth full.
“Why, so I should have liked to have been,” said Jack.
“‘Twere a mighty hot fight, though, while it lasted,” said the young pirate with pride. “Like enough you mightn’t ha’ liked that so much if you’d been there. ’Twas a main villainous chance that I should ha’ been hit the very first time I ever was really in a fight.”
“Did it hurt you when you were shot?” Jack asked, curiously.
“Hurt!” said the pirate, “I don’t know — no, not much at first. ’Twas as if somebody had struck me in the shoulder with a club. It just knocked me around as if I’d been hit with a club. I didn’t know what ’twas at first, nor till I felt the blood a-running down my hand, all hot like. Arter that it hurt bad enough. ‘Twere a grape-shot,” he said, with some pride, “and it looked as though you’d ‘a’ scooped a bit of the meat out with a spoon, only deeper like. ’Twas a nigh chance, and if it had ‘a’ been a little higher, ’twould ‘a’ been all up with Ned Bolles.”
“I’d have liked well to have been along,” said Jack again.
“Well,” said the young pirate, “’twas summat to stir the blood, I can tell ye. Then we lay for maybe twenty minutes or more afore t’other sloop could come up with us, and all the time that bloody French bark a-banging away at us, the bullets a-going ping! ping! and chug! chug! and every now and then boom! goes a gun — boom! boom! — and maybe a bucketful of splinters goes flying. And then, by and by, I see ’em carrying poor Tom Swiggett down below, and a nasty sight he were, with his eyes rolled up and his face like dough. And just then, bump! and around I goes, shot in the shoulder. ‘Tweren’t no skylarking now, I tell ye.”
It was just then that Mr. Knight’s boat pulled up to the wharf beyond, and Jack went out to the end of the landing to meet it. The men who were rowing were strangers to Jack. They lay waiting on their oars, looking up at him. “Tell me, young man!” called Mr. Knight. “Is Captain Teach at home?”
“Yes, he is,” said Jack, “but he’s not about yet.”
Then Mr. Knight, followed by Captain Hotchkiss, came climbing up the ladder, slippery with green slime, to the wharf above. The colonial secretary led the way directly up to the house, and Jack followed the two visitors, leaving the young pirate munching away stolidly at his food.
They all went into the kitchen together. The pirate captain had gone to bed, but Dred and Morton still lingered in front of the fire, and Betty Teach was busy putting away the remains of the breakfast that had been standing on the table since midnight.
“If you’ll come in t’other room,” said Jack, “you’ll likely find it in better trim than this one, Mr. Knight.”
“Never mind,” said the secretary, “we’d just as lief stay here. What time did the sloop get in?” he asked of Morton.
“I do
n’t know exactly,” said Morton, without taking his pipe out of his mouth. “’Twas some time arter midnight.”
“Is the captain asleep yet?”
“I reckon he be,” said Dred. “I hain’t seen him since he went to bed early this morning.”
“Well, he’ll have to be awakened then,” said Mr. Knight, “for I’ve just fetched Captain Hotchkiss, here, down from the town to see him, and he has to be going again as soon as may be.”
“You’d better go and wake him then, mistress,” said Dred; and Betty went, though with great reluctance, to arouse her husband. Presently they could hear her overhead talking to the pirate, who answered her evidently from his bed; then they could hear him telling her that he would be down in a little while, and presently she returned down-stairs again, leaving Blackbeard stamping his feet into his shoes and swearing to himself.
Then, after a while, they heard the door of the room open and the pirate captain go stumping along the passage. He did not come directly down-stairs, however, but went on into the room where Hands lay.
“Where’s he gone now?” said Mr. Knight. “Why don’t he come?”
“He’s stopped in to see Hands first,” said Betty Teach.
“Well, then, why should he do that?” said Mr. Knight, crossly. “Hands can wait and we can’t.”
Betty made no reply, but went on with her interrupted work. In the pause of silence that followed, those in the kitchen could hear the grumbling sound of the men’s voices talking up-stairs. Captain Hotchkiss fidgeted restlessly. “When did the fever take you?” he asked Dred.
“Why, I don’t know,” said Dred. “It appeared like I fetched it down from Virginny with me.”
Hands was talking now, and they could hear the growling of his voice — it continued for some time in a monotone, and then suddenly the captain’s voice burst out with a loud, angry excitement. There was instant silence in the kitchen: every one sat listening intently to hear what was said in the room above. “Run away!” they heard Blackbeard’s voice exclaim. “Run away!” and then came the noise of his chair grating against the bare floor. Jack and Betty Teach and Dred exchanged looks. They knew that Hands had told of the young lady’s attempted escape.
“He’s gone and told, arter all,” said Dred.
“Told what?” asked Mr. Knight, but the others were listening again, and did not reply. Again Hands was talking, but it was impossible to distinguish what he was saying. Suddenly the chair grated again, and the next moment came the sound of Blackbeard’s feet striding across the room, and then along the passage. Then he came clattering down the stairs; then the kitchen door was flung open and he burst into the room. “What’s this here Hands tells me about the young lady trying to run away yesterday?” he cried out, in a fierce, loud voice.
Captain Hotchkiss was listening with silent intentness. Mr. Knight instantly understood everything, and he shot a side look at Captain Hotchkiss’s attentive face. “Take care, captain,” he said to Blackbeard, “take care what you say. You forget there’s a stranger here.”
Blackbeard glared at him, but vouchsafed no reply. “Didn’t I tell you,” he said, turning upon his wife, “that you was to keep a sharp lookout upon the hussy while I was away? I was afeared of something of this sort, and I told you to keep a sharp lookout on her. Suppose she’d ‘a’ got up into the town! maybe she’d have had the whole province talking. ’Tis bad enough as ’tis with everybody hereabouts blabbing about her, but if she’d got up into the town maybe she’d found somebody to look after her and take up her case, and then we’d have never got her back again. There’s Parson Odell, if she’d gone to him, he’d have had to take up her case, and then we’d ‘a’ had the whole Parker crew down upon us from Virginny, like enough.”
“Well,” said Betty Teach, “’twas nobody’s fault she got away. To be sure, I did all I could to look after her, morning and night. I allus went to her door early, and I allus kept the doors of the house tight locked of a night. I don’t know how she contrived to get out, but she did get out, and that’s all there be about it. But now ’tis over and done, and she’s safe back home again and no harm done, so what’s the use of blustering about it for everybody to hear?”
Mr. Knight came up to Blackbeard and plucked him by the sleeve. “You forget,” he whispered, “that Hotchkiss is here. You don’t want everybody to know about this business, do you?”
Blackbeard shook off his touch. He would listen to nothing. “And as for you, Chris Dred,” he said, turning to the sick man, “what be ye fit for, anyhow?” Dred shrugged his shoulders without replying. “What! won’t you answer me, then? By blood! you shall answer me!”
“’Tis no use to answer you,” said Dred, “you’ve got in one of your humors, and there’s naught that I can say that you’ll listen to.”
Blackbeard glared balefully at him for a while, perhaps not knowing just what to say. Then suddenly he turned on his heel and flung open the door, and went noisily up-stairs again.
“Where are you going, Ned?” his wife called after him, but he did not reply.
“I do believe he’s going up to the young lady’s room,” said Dred, rising from his bench. “You’d better go up and stop him, mistress, or he’ll frighten her to death.”
They listened, and, sure enough, the pirate went straight to the girl’s room and flung open the door violently. “You’d better go up arter him,” said Dred; “he’s in one of his fits, and there’s no knowing what he’ll say or do to her.”
“Why,” said Betty Teach, “to be sure I don’t like to cross him now.”
Dred shrugged his shoulders and sat down again. They could hear the loud, violent voice of the pirate storming from the room above. “Ye’d run away, would ye? Ye’d run away, would ye? By the eternal! I’ll cure ye of that, my mistress! Ye don’t know me, to try your tricks with me. What d’ ye suppose I keep ye here for — because I love ye? Not I! ’Tis for what I can make out of ye!” — and so on, and so on. Betty Teach stood listening at the half-open door. “Well,” she said at last, “I do suppose I’ll have to go up to him. ’Tis as you say; he’ll frighten her to death, the way he’s talking to her.” Then again she listened for a moment or two, and they could all hear the sound of some one crying. “Well, I’ll go,” she said; and she went, closing the door after her.
“Who is it he’s got up there, anyhow?” asked Captain Hotchkiss. He looked around at the others, but no one replied to him. He was devoured by curiosity.
“He shouldn’t have gone up-stairs in the humor he’s in,” said the secretary. “He wasn’t fit to talk with her now.”
“But who is it?” said Captain Hotchkiss, again.
“Never you mind that, captain,” said Mr. Knight, sharply. “’Tis a matter that don’t concern you at all, and you’d better mind your own affairs.”
Betty Teach was talking, and they could hear the sound of her voice, trying to quiet her husband — then the sound of Blackbeard’s, more violent than ever. The doors were closed, so that it was impossible to distinguish what was said. Suddenly there came a cry, — then a fall, — then silence. “By heavens!” said Mr. Knight, “he hasn’t done anything to her, has he?”
“No,” said Dred, “he wouldn’t do nothing to her o’ that kind. He wouldn’t touch hand to her, if you mean that.”
The silence continued for a while; then the door opened, and Betty Teach’s voice called down the stairs: “Jack! Jack! Come here a minute!”
Jack hurried out of the room, and up-stairs. The door of the young lady’s room was standing open, and before he entered he could see Miss Eleanor Parker lying upon the floor and the pirate’s wife bending over her, rubbing and slapping her hands. Blackbeard himself sat upon the edge of the table, swinging one leg, his arms folded, lowering down at the unconscious figure. “Here, Jack,” said the pirate’s wife, looking up, “help me lift her to the bed.”
Then Jack, who stood looking, aroused himself, and came into the room. He stooped, and slipped his h
ands and arms under the girl’s shoulders. Her head fell back upon his arm as he raised her, and her hair flowed over it in a dark, glossy cloud. He looked down at the white face, the blue veins marking faint lines upon her forehead. Then he and the woman laid her upon the bed. “Go and fetch some water,” said Betty Teach, “and be quick about it.”
The pail was empty, and Jack ran down-stairs to fill it. “What’s the matter?” asked Mr. Knight, as he hurried through the kitchen.
“Nothing,” said Jack, “only she’s fainted away.”
When he returned to the room again he saw that the pirate’s wife had loosened the young lady’s stays, and that she had now returned, or was returning, to consciousness. “Well, then,” Betty Teach was saying, “I do suppose you’re satisfied, now that you’ve nigh frightened her to death. Are ye satisfied, now?”
As Jack set the pail of water upon the floor, he saw a shuddering tremor shake the half-conscious girl, and then, by and by, another. Blackbeard still sat upon the edge of the table, swinging one leg, his arms folded, and his face lowering. “Well, I’ll frighten her worse than that,” he said, at last. “I’ll frighten her worse than she was ever frightened before in all of her life if she goes trying any of her tricks of running away again!” He stopped, and glared toward the two women. Then he ground his white teeth together in a sudden spasm of rage. “I’ll frighten her so she’ll wish she was dead!”
Whether the girl heard or not, she shuddered, as though at the words. “Well, you’d better go down-stairs now,” said Betty Teach. “You’ve frightened her enough for once, and you’ve said things before Jack Hotchkiss that maybe you’ll be sorry you said, by and by.”
“I’ll go down-stairs,” growled the pirate, “when it suits me to, and not before.” He sat for a little while longer, as though to assert himself, and then presently got up and slouched out of the room, without closing the door behind him.