"Food and water?" answered Joe. "Oh, we landed when the thirst plagued us too bad. And there was rain to fill a bight of the sail and a pannikin to save it in."

"And we lived on oysters mostly," said Jack, "and Joe killed a fat opossum with a club, and we caught some fish in a net which I knotted from a ball of marline that was in the boat. And we foraged for pawpaws and persimmons."

"And whenever the breeze was fair we put to sea again," said Joe, "and it was a long and weary voyage, though not so many leagues on the chart."

The captain's boat was ready and they tumbled in, two wayfarers of the sea who were as lean and sun-dried as the buccaneers of old Trimble Rogers' fond memories. Hardships had seasoned and weathered them like good ash staves. On the wharf was Uncle Peter Forbes and Governor Johnson and a concourse of townspeople drawn by the joyous signals flown from the brigantine. Jack looked in vain for Dorothy Stuart and was thankful that her welcome was deferred. Shears and a razor and Christian raiment would make him look less like a savage from the coast of Barbary.

Uncle Peter wasted a vast deal of pity, thinking the castaways too weak and wasted to walk. Jack strode along with him, the crowd at their heels, and soon had the plump Councilor puffing for breath. They insisted on taking Joe Hawkridge with them although he was for seeking lodgings at the tavern. He was one of the household, declared Mr.

Forbes, while Jack warned him to beware of impertinence lest he be sentenced to chop wood for the kitchen fire.

The neighbors and friends, as curious as they were joyful, were barred from the house while the lads talked and Uncle Peter carefully made notes of it all. It was too much for him to realize that Jack was sitting there l.u.s.ty and laughing and with the dutifully respectful manner as of yore, in spite of the man's part he had played to the hilt.

Of all the exploits, that which most fascinated Mr. Peter Forbes was the chase after Blackbeard's sea-chest weighty with treasure and the discovery of the knoll in the Cherokee swamp where he might have buried other booty. Here was a picaresque romance which allured the methodical barrister and Councilor and he was as boyishly excited as his nephew. He examined the chart which Jack had copied from his rude sketch made on a piece of bark and this raised a question which he was quick to ask:

"What of Bill Saxby and this old bloodhound of a Trimble Rogers? As soon as Stede Bonnet could get the _Revenge_ to sea, I have no doubt he sailed to Cape Fear River to get these pirate comrades of yours and the seamen he left to find them. Once aboard, they would urge Bonnet to return to Cherokee Inlet and let them go hunt the treasure."

"That may be, but we can trust them to deal fair by us," replied Jack.

"Possibly," was the skeptical comment. Mr. Forbes was not too ready to believe in honest pirates.

"I'm not sure Cap'n Bonnet had a mind to bother with this treasure hunting," suggested Joe Hawkridge. "Leastwise, he may ha' put it off to an easier day. He has friends that keep him well informed, such as the Governor of North Carolina at Bath Town. And all this flurry against piratin', here and in Virginia, 'ud be apt to make Cap'n Bonnet wary of bein' trapped on the coast."

"Joe is full of wisdom, as usual," said Master c.o.c.krell. "And if Blackbeard has cruised to the Spanish Main, as we suspect, the treasure may lie undisturbed for a while."

"Concerning Blackbeard, the evidence then in hand warranted your conclusions," was Uncle Peter's judicial comment, "but I have received later information. The rumor is, and well-founded, that he turned his ship and made for the Pamlico River with the intention of obtaining pardon from the false and greedy Governor Eden. This would baffle our plans against him, or so he would a.s.sume. And it would enable him to remain within convenient distance of his treasure."

"Would this Province and Virginia respect such a pardon as that?"

queried Jack.

"Not in the case of Blackbeard," snapped the Councilor, "because we know it would be violated as soon as this treacherous villain could safely return to his piracies."

"Then Joe and I will enlist in the _King George_ brigantine," cried Jack. "Captain Wellsby tells me she will sail for Virginia inside the week."

Uncle Peter was about to make violent protest but he checked himself and his emotions were torn betwixt pride and yearning affection. He could not bear to let his nephew go so soon to new perils, but what right had he to try to shield him when the public duty called? It was idle to pretend that Jack was too young and tender to embark on such service as this. He was fitter for it than some of the other volunteers. And so the unhappy Uncle Peter walked the floor with his cheeks puffed out and his hands clasped behind him and said, with a tremulous sigh:

"I swore to treat you no more as a child, Jack. 'Tis right and natural for you to desire to go in the _King George_ as a fighting man tried and true. As for Joe Hawkridge, I have acquainted the Governor with his merits and his pardon is a.s.sured."

"Thankee, sir," returned the reformed young pirate. "A respectable life is what I crave, and the parson for company."

"It sounds almost pleasant to me, including the parson," admitted Jack, "as soon as we shall have settled this matter with Blackbeard."

CHAPTER XVI

NED RACKHAM'S PLANS GO MUCH AMISS

THE armed brigantine had been out several days on the voyage to Virginia when a vessel was sighted hull-down. Captain Wellsby and Colonel Stuart decided to edge over and take a look at the stranger although they were not anxious to engage an enemy of heavier metal. If, however, this should happen to be Blackbeard in the _Revenge_ they were in no mood to avoid him, despite the odds. After an hour of sailing in a strong breeze, it was seen that this other vessel was a small merchantman which shifted her course as though to shake off pursuit.

"They take us for a pirate," chuckled Captain Wellsby. "I have no wish to scare 'em, poor souls. They will feel easy as soon as we bring the wind abeam."

He was about to give the order when Joe Hawkridge, gunner's mate, called to Jack c.o.c.krell standing his watch at the helm:

"Remember the snow I told ye of? Yonder is the same rig and tonnage, alike it as peas in a pod."

Jack spoke to the shipmaster who summoned Joe to the quarter-deck. The boy was confident that this was the New England coasting vessel in which Ned Rackham and his pirates had appeared off Cherokee Inlet and had carried the marooned seamen from the sandy cay.

"A brown patch in the big main-topsail, and the bowsprit steeved more'n ordinary," said Joe. "t.i.t for tat, Cap'n Wellsby. Your men can have the fun of jamming them in the fo'castle. And you won't find me or Jack helpin' these picaroons to break out."

"No fear of that," sternly spoke the shipmaster. "They shall make their exit with a taut rope and a long drop when I deliver them in Virginia."

It was to be gathered that the bold Ned Rackham had failed in his desperate enterprise of capturing a larger ship and that he was probably cruising up the coast in hopes of rejoining Blackbeard. The snow had too few guns to cope with the _King George_ brigantine which could throw a battering broadside. As soon as identification was certain, Captain Wellsby hauled to windward to hold the weather gauge and Colonel Stuart called the men to quarters. The _Plymouth Adventure_ hands were disappointed that they would be unable to pay their own grudge. They had no doubt that Ned Rackham would strike his colors without a battle.

The _King George_ ran close enough for Captain Wellsby to shout through the trumpet:

"The snow ahoy! Send your men aboard or I'll sink you. No tricks, Rackham. Lively, now."

They saw the men running to cut the boat lashings and struggle to launch the boats from the deck. Ned Rackham, handsome and debonair, stared coolly at the brigantine but gave no sign that he had heard the ultimatum. With a shrug he walked across the p.o.o.p, glanced up at the British ensign which flew from his main truck, and made no motion to pull it down.

"Blow your matches, boys," roared Colonel Stuart from his station in the waist of the _King George_. "Five minutes' grace, no more."

Captain Wellsby said to wait a little. The pirates were endeavoring to quit the snow. And presently Rackham appeared to change his own purpose.

No longer ignoring the _King George_, he doffed his hat in a graceful flourish and bowed with a mocking obeisance. Then he strolled to the cabin hatch and went below, presumably to get a change of clothing or something of the sort. But he failed to reappear and his men were in a frenzy of haste, with one boat already in the water.

So incensed was Colonel Stuart by the insolent refusal of Ned Rackham to strike his colors in token of surrender that he gave orders to fire at the mainmast and try to bring it down. An instant before the starboard battery thundered, the snow seemed to fly upwards in a tremendous explosion. The masts were flung out of her and the hull opened like a shattered basket. So violent was the shock that men were thrown to the deck of the _King George_ and she quivered as though her bows had rammed a reef. Black smoke spouted as from a crater and debris rained down on a boiling sea.

A few survivors, scorched or half-stunned, were clinging to bits of wreckage and wailing for succor. Where the snow had floated was a discolored eddy, broken timbers, a lather of dirty foam. Captain Jonathan Wellsby picked himself up, rubbed a b.u.mp on his head, and gazed wildly at the tragic scene. Collecting his wits, he exclaimed:

"That 'ud be like Ned Rackham, to blow up the ship sooner than be taken and hanged. More than likely he had the train all laid to the powder barrels."

"He saved us a lot of trouble," said Colonel Stuart as he climbed to the p.o.o.p. "A fellow of iron will and courage, this Rackham, by all accounts.

I have conceived a respect for him."

"I forgive him his sins," replied the skipper. "Now, lads, boats away, and fish up those dying wretches."

Joe Hawkridge emitted a jubilant whoop and dived over the rail without waiting for a boat. He had caught a glimpse of a feeble swimmer whose square, solid features and bushy brows were familiar. It was Peter Tobey, the carpenter's mate, who had befriended him on the cay and who had set adrift that miraculous cask of food and water. A few strokes and Joe was at his side, clutching him by the neck-band and towing him toward the _King George_ like a faithful retriever. Ropes were flung to them and Joe saw his good friend safely aboard before he went up the side.

The carpenter's mate was both burned and bruised but his hurts were not grievous and he was able to drag himself aft with Joe as a crutch.

"My own particular prize, sir, by your gracious leave," said Joe Hawkridge, addressing Captain Wellsby. "This is Mr. Peter Tobey, a poor, faint-hearted pirate like me. May I have him to keep, sir?"

"Bless me, but there will be no pirates left to hang," was the quizzical reply. "Master c.o.c.krell has adopted you, and now I am ordered to be kind to Bill Saxby and Trimble Rogers if I meet up with 'em."

"That's the whole list, sir. Ask Jack c.o.c.krell. You can string the rest of the b.l.o.o.d.y pirates to the yardarm, for all we care. Do I get exemption for this Peter Tobey?"

"What is your verdict, Colonel Stuart?" asked the captain.