"I don't know," she answered, "but the gentleman in the uniform is a good man. Perhaps the other one is his father."

"To my eyes," said Captain Ichabod, "this is a most fearsome mix."

The Mander family, and nearly everybody else on board, crowded about the little group, gazing with all their eyes but asking no questions.

"Captain Ichabod," exclaimed Mr. Delaplaine, holding d.i.c.kory by the hand, "this is one of the two persons you were taking us to find. This is d.i.c.kory Charter, the son of good Dame Charter, now on your vessel. He went away with Blackbeard, and we were in search of him."

"Oho!" cried Captain Ichabod, "by my life I believe it. That's the young fellow that Blackbeard dressed up in a c.o.c.ked hat and took away with him."

"I am the same person, sir," said d.i.c.kory.

"So far so good," said Captain Ichabod. "I am very glad that I did not bring down my cutla.s.s on you, which I should have done, bedad, had it not been for this young woman."

Now up spoke Mr. Delaplaine. "We have found you, d.i.c.kory," he cried, "but what can you tell us of Major Bonnet?"

"Ay, ay," added Captain Ichabod, "there's another one we're after; where's the runaway Sir Nightcap?"

"Alas!" said d.i.c.kory, "I do not know. I escaped from Blackbeard, and since that day have heard nothing. I had supposed that Captain Bonnet was in your company, Mr. Delaplaine."

Now the captain of the Black Swan pushed himself forward. "Is it Captain Bonnet, lately of the pirate ship Revenge, that you're talking about?"

he asked. "If so, I may tell you something of him. I am lately from Charles Town, and the talk there was that Blackbeard was lying outside the harbour in Stede Bonnet's old vessel, and that Bonnet had lately joined him. I did not venture out of port until I had had certain news that these pirates had sailed northward. They had two or three ships, and the talk was that they were bound to the Virginias, and perhaps still farther north. They were fitted out for a long cruise."

"Gone again!" exclaimed Mr. Delaplaine in a hoa.r.s.e voice. "Gone again!"

Captain Ichabod's face grew clouded.

"Gone north of Charles Town," he exclaimed, "that's bad, bedad, that's very bad. You are sure he did not sail southward?" he asked of the captain of the brig.

That gruff mariner was in a strange state of mind. He had just been captured by a pirate, and in the next moment had made, what might be a very profitable sale, to a respectable merchant, of the goods the pirate was about to take from him. Moreover, the said pirate seemed to be in the employ of said merchant, and altogether, things seemed to him to be in as fearsome a mix as they had seemed to Captain Ichabod, but he brought his mind down to the question he had been asked.

"No doubt about that," said he; "there were some of his men in the town--for they are afraid of n.o.body--and they were not backward in talking."

"That upsets things badly," said Captain Ichabod, without unclouding his brow. "With my slow vessel and my empty purse, bedad, I don't see how I am ever goin' to catch Blackbeard if he has gone north. Finding Blackbeard would have been a handful of trumps to me, but the game seems to be up, bedad."

The captain of the brig and Ichabod's quarter-master went away to attend to the transfer of the needed goods to the Restless. Mander, with his wife and little daughter, were standing together gazing with amazement at the strange pirates who had come aboard, while Lucilla stepped up to d.i.c.kory, who stood silent, with his eyes on the deck.

"Can you tell me what this means?" said she.

For a moment he did not answer, and then he said: "I don't know everything myself, but I must presently go on board that vessel."

"What!" exclaimed Lucilla, stepping back. "Is she there?"

"Yes," said d.i.c.kory.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

THE DELIVERY OF THE LETTER

The sea was smooth and the wind light, and the transfer of provisions from the Black Swan to the pirate sloop, which two ships now lay as near each other as safety would permit, was accomplished quietly.

During the progress of the transfer Captain Ichabod's boat was rowed back to his ship, and its arrival was watched with great interest by everybody on board that pirate sloop. Kate and Dame Charter, as well as all the men who stood looking over the rail, were amazed to see a naval officer accompanying the captain and Mr. Delaplaine on their return. But that amazement was greatly increased when that officer, as soon as he set foot upon the deck, removed his hat and made directly for Dame Charter, who, with a scream loud enough to frighten the fishes, enfolded him in her arms and straightway fainted. It was like a son coming up out of the sea, sure enough, as she afterward stated. Kate, recognising d.i.c.kory, hurried to him with a scream of her own and both hands outstretched, but the young fellow, who seemed greatly distressed at the unconscious condition of his mother, did not greet Mistress Bonnet with the enthusiastic delight which might have been expected under the circ.u.mstances. He seemed troubled and embarra.s.sed, which, perhaps, was not surprising, for never before had he seen his mother faint.

Kate was about to offer some a.s.sistance, but as the good Dame now showed signs of returning consciousness, she thought it would be better to leave the two together, and in a state of amazement she was hurrying to her uncle when d.i.c.kory rose from the side of his mother and stopped her.

"I have a letter for you," he said, in a husky voice.

"A letter?" she cried, "from my father?"

"No," said he, "from Captain Vince." And he handed her the blood-stained missive.

Kate turned pale and stared at him; here was horrible mystery. The thought flashed through the young girl's mind that the wicked captain had killed her father and had written to tell her so.

"Is my father dead?" she gasped.

"Not that I know of," said d.i.c.kory.

"Where is he?" she cried.

"I do not know," was the answer.

She stood, holding the letter, while d.i.c.kory returned to his mother.

Mr. Delaplaine saw her standing thus, pale and shocked, but he did not hasten to her. He had sad things to say to her, for his practical mind told him that it would not be possible to continue the search for her father, he having put himself out of the reach of Captain Ichabod and his inefficient sloop. If d.i.c.kory had said anything about her father which had so cast her down, how much harder would it be for him when he had to tell her the whole truth.

But Kate did not wait for further speech from anybody. She gave a great start, and then rushed down the companion-way to her cabin. There, with her door shut, she opened the letter. This was the letter, written in lead pencil, in an irregular but bold hand, with some letters partly dimmed where the paper had been damp:

"At the very end of my life I write to you that you have escaped the fiercest love that ever a man had for a woman. I shall carry this love with me to h.e.l.l, if it may be, but you have escaped it.

This escape is a blessing, and now that I cannot help it I give it to you. Had I lived, I should have shed the blood of every one whom you loved to gain you and you would have cursed me. So love me now for dying.

"Yours, anywhere and always, CHRISTOPHER VINCE."

Kate put down the letter and some colour came into her face; she bowed her head in thankful prayer.

"He is dead," she said, "and now he cannot harm my father." That was the only thought she had regarding this hot-brained and infatuated lover. He was dead, her father was safe from him. How he died, how d.i.c.kory came to bring the letter, how anything had happened that had happened except the death of Captain Vince, did not at this moment concern her. Not until now had she known how the fear of the vengeful captain of the Badger had constantly been with her.

Over and over again d.i.c.kory told his tale to his mother. She interrupted him so much with her embraces that he could not explain things clearly to her, but she did not care, she had him with her. He was with her, and she had fast hold of him, and she would never let him go again. What mattered it what sort of clothes he wore, or where he had escaped from--a family on a desert island or from a pirate crew? She had him, and her happiness knew no bounds. d.i.c.kory was perfectly willing to stay with her and to talk to her. He did not care to be with anybody else, not even with Mistress Kate, who had taken so much interest in him all the time he had been away; though, of course, not so much interest as his own dear mother.

Then the good Dame Charter, being greatly recovered and so happy, began to talk of herself. Slipping in a disjointed way over her various experiences, she told her dear boy, in strictest confidence, that she was very much disappointed in the way pirates took ships. She thought it was going to be something very exciting that she would remember to the end of her days, and wake up in the middle of the night and scream when she thought of it, but it was nothing of the kind; not a shot was fired, not a drop of blood shed; there was not even a shout or a yell or a scream for mercy. It was all like going into the pantry to get the flour and the sugar. She was all the time waiting for something to happen, and nothing ever did. d.i.c.kory smiled, but it was like watered milk.

"I do not understand such piracy," he said, "but supposed, dear mother, that these pirates had taken that ship in the usual way, I being on board."

At this he was clasped so tightly to his mother's breast that he could say no more.