Kate Bonnet/Chapter 18

S has been made plain, Captain Bonnet of the Revenge was a punctilious man when the rules of society were concerned, be that society official, high-toned, or piratical. Thus it was a positive duty, in his mind, to return Blackbeard's visit on the next day, but until afternoon he was not able to do so on account of the difficulty of getting a sober and decently behaved boat's crew who should row him over.

Black Paul, the sailing-master, had returned to his vessel early in the morning, feeling the necessity of keeping watch over the cargo, but most of the men came over much later, while some of them did not come at all.

Bonnet was greatly inclined to punish with an unwonted severity this breach of rules, but Black Paul assured him that it was always the custom for the crew of a newly arrived vessel to go ashore and have a good time, and that if they were denied this privilege they would be sure to mutiny, and he might be left without any crew at all. Bonnet grumbled and swore, but, as he was aware there were several things concerning a nautical life with which he was not familiar, he determined to let pass this trespass.

Dressed in his finest clothes, and even better than the day before, he was followed into the boat by Ben Greenway, who vowed his captain should never travel without his chaplain, who, if his words were considered, would be the most valuable officer on the vessel.

"Come, then, Greenway," said Bonnet; "you have troubled me so much on my own vessel that now, perchance, you may be able to do me some service on that of another. Anyway, I should like to have at least one decent person in my train, who, an you come not, will be wholly missing. And Dickory may come too, if he like it."

But Dickory did not like it. He hated the big black pirate, and cared not if he should never see him again, so he stayed behind.

When Bonnet mounted to the deck of Blackbeard's vessel he found there a very different pirate captain from the one who had called upon him the day before. There were no tails to the great black beard, there were few pistols visible, and Captain Bonnet's host received him with a certain salt-soaked, sun-browned, hairy, and brawny hospitality which did not sit badly upon him. There was meat, there was drink, and then the two captains and Greenway walked gravely over the vessel, followed by a hundred eyes, and before long by many a coarse and jeering laugh which Bonnet supposed were directed at sturdy Ben Greenway, deeming it quite natural, though improper, that the derision of these rough fellows should be excited by the appearance among them of a prim and sedate Scotch Presbyterian.

But that crew of miscreants had all heard of the derisive title which had been given to Bonnet, and now they saw without the slightest difficulty how little he knew of the various nautical points to which Blackbeard continually called his attention.

The vessel was dirty, it was ill-appointed; there was an air of reckless disorder which showed itself everywhere; but, apart from his evident distaste for dirt and griminess, the captain of the Revenge seemed to be very well satisfied with everything he saw. When he passed a small gun pointed across the deck, and with a nightcap hung upon a capstan bar thrust into its muzzle, there was such a great laugh that Bonnet looked around to see what the imprudent Greenway might be doing.

Many were the nautical points to which Blackbeard called his guest's attention and many the questions the grim pirate asked, but in almost all cases of the kind the tall gentleman with the cocked hat replied that he generally left those things to his sailing-master, being so much occupied with matters of more import.

Although he found no fault and made no criticisms, Bonnet was very much disgusted. Such a disorderly vessel, such an apparently lawless crew, excited his most severe mental strictures; and, although the great Blackbeard was to-day a very well-behaved person, Bonnet could not understand how a famous and successful captain should permit his vessel and his crew to get into such an unseamanlike and disgraceful condition. On board the Revenge, as his sailing-master had remarked, there was the neatness of his kitchen and his store-houses; and, although he did not always know what to do with the nautical appliances which surrounded him, he knew how to make them look in good order. But he made few remarks, favourable or otherwise, and held himself loftier than before, with an air as if he might have been an admiral entire instead of resembling one only in clothes, and with ceremonious and even condescending politeness followed his host wherever he was led, above decks or below.

Ben Greenway had gone with his master about the ship with much of the air of one who accompanies a good friend to the place of execution. Regardless of gibes or insults, whether they were directed at Bonnet or himself, he turned his face neither to the right nor to the left, and apparently regarded nothing that he heard. But while endeavouring to listen as little as possible to what was going on around him, he heard a great deal; but, strange to say, the railing and scurrility of the pirates did not appear to have a depressing influence upon his mind. In fact, he seemed in somewhat better spirits than when he came on board.

"Whatever he may do, whatever he may say, an' whatever he may swear," said the Scotchman to himself, "he is no' like ane of these. Try as he may, he canna descend so low into the blackness o' evil as these sons o' perdition. Although he has done evil beyond a poor mortal's computation, he walks like a king amang them. Even that Blackbeard, striving to be decent for an hour or two, knows a superior when he meets him."

When they had finished the tour of the vessel, Blackbeard conducted his guest to his own cabin and invited him to be seated by a little table. Bonnet sat down, placing his high-plumed cocked hat upon the bench beside him. He did not want anything more to eat or to drink, and he was, in fact, quite ready to take his leave. The vessel had not pleased him and had given him an idea of the true pirate's life which he had never had before. On the Revenge he mingled little with the crew, scarcely ever below decks, and his own quarters were as neat and commodious as if they were on a fine vessel carrying distinguished passengers. Dirt and disorder, if they existed, were at least not visible to him.

But, although he had no desire ever to make another visit to the ship of the great Blackbeard, he would remember his position and be polite and considerate now that he was here. Moreover, the savage desperado of the day before, dressed like a monkey and howling like an Indian, seemed now to be endeavouring to soften himself a little and to lay aside some of his savage eccentricities in honour of the captain of that fine ship, the Revenge. So, clothed in a calm dignity, Bonnet waited to hear what his host had further to say.

Blackbeard seated himself on the other side of the table, on which he rested his massive arms. Behind him Ben Greenway stood in the doorway. For a few moments Blackbeard sat and gazed at Bonnet, and then he said: "Look ye, Stede Bonnet, do you know you are now as much out of place as a red herring would be at the top of the mainmast?"

Bonnet flushed. "I fear, Captain Blackbeard," he said, "I very much fear me that you are right; this is no place for me. I have paid my respects to you, and now, if you please, I will take my leave. I have not been gratified by the conduct of your crew, but I did not expect that their captain would address me in such discourteous words." And with this he reached out his hand for his hat.

Blackbeard brought down his hand heavily upon the table.

"Sit where you are!" he exclaimed. "I have that to say to you which you shall hear whether you like my vessel, my crew, or me. You are no sailor, Stede Bonnet of Bridgetown, and you don't belong to the free companions, who are all good men and true and can sail the ships they command. You are a defrauder and a cheat; you are nothing but a landsman, a plough-tail sugar-planter!"

At this insult Bonnet rose to his feet and his hand went to his sword.

"Sit down!" roared Blackbeard; "an you do not listen to me, I'll cut off this parley and your head together. Sit down, sir."

Bonnet sat down, pale now and trembling with rage. He was not a coward, but on board this ship he must give heed to the words of the desperado who commanded it.

"You have no right," continued Blackbeard, "to strut about on the quarter-deck of that fine vessel, the Revenge; you have no right to hoist above you the Jolly Roger, and you have no right to lie right and left and tell people you are a pirate. A pirate, forsooth! you are no pirate. A pirate is a sailor, and you are no sailor! You are no better than a blind man led by a dog: if the dog breaks away from him he is lost, and if the sailing-masters you pick up one after another break away from you, you are lost. It is a cursed shame, Stede Bonnet, and it shall be no longer. At this moment, by my own right and for the sake of every man who sails under the Jolly Roger, I take away from you the command of the Revenge."

Now Bonnet could not refrain from springing to his feet. "Take from me the Revenge!" he cried, "my own vessel, bought with my own money! And how say you I am not a pirate? From Massachusetts down the coast into these very waters I have preyed upon commerce, I have taken prizes, I have burned ships, I have made my name a terror."

Now his voice grew stronger and his tones more angry.

"Not a pirate!" he cried. "Go ask the galleons and the merchantmen I have stripped and burned; go ask their crews, now wandering in misery upon desert shores, if they be not already dead. And by what right, I ask, do you come to such an one as I am and declare that, having put me in the position of a prisoner on your ship, you will take away my own?"

Blackbeard gazed at him with half-closed eyes, a malicious smile upon his face.

"I have no right," he said; "I need no right; I am a pirate!"

At these words Bonnet's legs weakened under him, and he sank down upon the bench. As he did so he glanced at Ben Greenway as if he were the only person on earth to whom he could look for help, but to his amazement he saw before him a face almost jubilant, and beheld the Scotchman, his eyes uplifted and his hands clasped as if in thankful prayer.