The Black Buccaneer

  CHAPTER XXIII

  There were brave days aboard the _Queen_ as she voyaged up thecoast--days of sun and light winds when the boys sat lazily in the blueshadow of the sails, looking off through half-closed eyes toward thefaint line of shore that appeared and disappeared to leeward; orlistened to Job's long tales of adventure up and down the high seas; orfished with hand-lines over the taffrail, happy if they pulled up even agoggle-eyed flounder. Twice they ran into fog, and on those days, whenthe wet dripped dismally off the shrouds and the watch on deck sangmournful airs in the gray gloom, the two lads settled into big chairs inthe cabin, beneath a mighty brass oil-lamp, and while Bob sat bemusedover Captain Dampier's Voyages, Jeremy fought Apollyon with that goodknight Christian, in "Pilgrim's Progress." But best of all were the daysof howling fair weather, when sky and sea were deep blue and the windboomed over out of the west, and the scattered flecks of white cloudraced with the flying spray below. Then all hands would stand by toslack a sheet here or reef a sail there, and Ghent, who was a boldsailor, would take the kicking tiller with Job's help, and keep the bigship on her course, the last possible foot of canvas straining at theyardarms. High along the weather rail, with the wind screaming in theirears or down in the lee scuppers where the white-shot green passed closebelow with a roar and a rush, the boys would cling, yelling aloud theirexultation. It was more than the risk, more than the dizzy movement thatmade them happy. With every hour of that strong wind they were ten knotsfarther north.

  So they sailed; and one morning when the mist cleared, Mr. Curtis ledboth boys to the port rail to show them where the green head of CapeHenlopen stood, abeam. There was moisture in the corners of his eyes ashe pointed to it. "Thank God, Bob, my lad, you're here to see theDelaware again!" he said huskily.

  Up the blue bay they cruised in the fine October weather and came in duetime--a very long time it seemed to some aboard--to the roadsteadopposite New Castle port. There was a boat over almost before the anchorwas dropped and a picked crew rowed the Curtises, Job and Jeremy ashoreas fast as they dared without breaking oars. They drew up across theswirling tidewater to the foot of a long pier. It was black with peoplewho cheered continually, and somewhere above the town a cannon was firedin salute, but all Bob saw was a slender figure in white at thepier-edge and all he heard was a woman's happy crying. A message to hismother telling of his safety had been sent from Charles Town three weeksbefore, and there she was to welcome him. There was a ladder further inalong the pier, but before they reached it some one had thrown a ropeand Bob swarmed up hand over hand. Jeremy, stricken with a suddenshyness, watched the happy, tearful scene that followed from the boatbelow.

  Women had had small part in his own life. Since his mother's death hehad known a few in the frontier settlements, and they had been good tohim in a friendly way, but this ecstatic mother-love was new and it madehim feel awkward and lonely.

  It seemed that all Delaware colony must be at the waterfront. Every soulin the little town and men from miles around had turned out to welcomethe returning vessel, for the news of Bonnet's defeat had been broughtin, days before, by a Carolina coaster. There was bunting over doorwaysand cheering in the streets as the Governor's coach with the party ofhonor drove up the main thoroughfare to the Curtis house.

  When they were within and the laughing crowds had dispersed, Bob'smother came to Jeremy, put her hands on his shoulders and looked longinto his face. She was a frail slip of a woman, dark like her son, witha sensitive mouth and big, black eyes full of courage. Jeremy flushed aslow scarlet under her gaze, but his eyes never flinched as he returnedit.

  "A fine boy," she said, at length, "and my own boy's good friend!" Thenshe smiled tenderly and kissed him on the forehead. Jeremy was then andthere won over. All women were angels of light to him from that moment.

  That night, alone in the white wilderness of his first four-poster, thepoor New England boy missed his mother very hard, more perhaps than hehad ever missed her before. He fell asleep on a pillow that was wet inspots--and he was not ashamed.

  In the days that followed nothing in Delaware Colony was too good forthe young heroes. Jeremy could never understand just _why_ they wereheroes, but was forced to give up trying to explain the matter to anadmiring populace. As for Bob, he gleefully accepted all the glory thatwas offered and at last persuaded Jeremy to take the affair asphilosophically as himself. They were in a fair way to be spoiled, butfortunately there was enough sense of humor between them to bring themoff safe from the head-patting gentlemen and tearfully rapturous ladieswho gathered at the brick house of afternoons.

  Perhaps the thing that really saved them from the effects of too muchpetting was the trip up the Brandywine to the Curtis plantation. It wasa fine ride of thirty miles and the trail led through woods just turningred and yellow with the autumn frosts. Jeremy, though he had been on ahorse only half a dozen times in his life, was a natural athlete andwithout fear. He was quick to learn and imitated Bob's erect carriageand easy seat so well that long before they had reached their journey'send he backed his tall roan like an old-timer. With Job it was adifferent matter. He was all sailor, and though the times demanded thatevery man who travelled cross-country must do it in the saddle, the lankNew Englander would have ridden a gale any day in preference to a steed.Even Jeremy could afford to laugh at the sorry figure his big friendmade.

  The trail they followed was no more than a rough cutting, eight or tenfeet wide, running through the forest. Here and there paths branched offto right or left and up one of these Bob turned at noon. It led themover a wooded hill, then down a long slope into the valley of a stream."John Cantwell's plantation. We'll stop here for a bite to eat,"explained the boy. By the water side, in a wide clearing, was a group oflog huts and farther along, a square house built of rough gray stone.

  They rode up to the wide door which looked down upon the river. Inanswer to Bob's hail a colored boy in a red jacket ran out to take thehorses' heads and four black and white fox terriers tore round thecorner barking a chorus of welcome. Bob jumped down with a laughing, "Ahthere, Rufus!" to the horse-boy, and proceeded to roll the excitedlittle dogs on their backs. As Jeremy and Job dismounted, a big man insober gray came to the doorway. His strong, kindly face broke into asmile as he caught sight of his visitors. "Well, Bob, I'm mightily gladto see thee back, lad! We got news from the town only yesterday." Hestrode down the steps and took the boy's hand in a hearty grip, thengreeted the others, as Bob introduced them. Jeremy marvelled much at thecut of the man's coat, which was without a collar, and at his continualuse of the plain _thee_ and _thy_. But there was a direct simplicityabout all his ways, and a gentleness in his eyes that won the boy to himinstantly.

  One moment only he wandered at John Cantwell. In the next he hadforgotten everything about him and stood open-mouthed, gazing at thesquare doorway. In the sun-lit frame of it had appeared a little girl oftwelve. She was dressed demurely in gray, set off with a bit of whitekerchief. Her long skirt hid her toes and her hands were folded mostproperly. But above this sober stalk bloomed the fairest face thatJeremy had ever seen. She had merry hazel eyes, a straight little noseand a firm little chin. Her plain bonnet had fallen back from her headand the brown curls that strayed recklessly about her cheeks seemed tocatch all the sunbeams in Delaware.

  For a very little time she stood, and then the pursed red mouth could becontrolled no longer. She opened it in a whoop of joy and catching upher skirts ran to smother Bob in a great hug. Next moment Jeremy, stillin a daze, was bowing over her hand, as he had learned to do at NewCastle. She dropped him a little curtsey and turned to meet Job.

  Betty Cantwell and her father were Quakers from the Penn Colony to thenorth, Bob had time to tell Jeremy as they entered. That accounted forthe staid simplicity of their dress and their quaint form of speech--theplain language, as it was called. Jeremy had heard of the Quakers,though in New England they were much persecuted for their beliefs by thePuritans. Here, apparently, people not only allowed them to live, butliked a
nd honored them as well. He prayed fervently that Betty mightnever chance to visit Boston town. Yet already he half hoped that shewould. Of course, he would have grown bigger by then, and would carry asword and how he would prick the thin legs of the first grim deacon whodared so much as to speak to her! These imaginings were put to rout atthe dining-room door by the delicious savor of roast turkey. One of theblack farmhands had shot the great bird the day before, and the threetravellers had arrived just at the fortunate moment when it was to becarved.

  It was a dinner never to be forgotten. The twenty miles they had riddenthrough the crisp air would have given them an appetite, even had theynot been normally good trenchermen, and there were fine white potatoesand yams that accompanied the turkey, not to mention some jelly whichBetty admitted having made herself, "with cook's help." Bob joyfullyattacked his heaped-up plate and ate with relish every minute that hewas not talking. Jeremy could say not a word, for opposite him was Bettyand in her presence he felt very large and awkward. His hands troubledhim. Indeed, had it been a possibility, he would have eaten his turkeywithout raising them above the table edge. As it was, he felt himselfblush every time a vast red fist came in evidence. Yet he succeeded inmaking a good meal and would not have been elsewhere for all SolomonBrig's gold. Perhaps Job, who was neither talkative nor under the spellof a lady's eyes, wielded the best knife and fork of the three.

  Dinner over, and Bob's story finished, they were taken to see the stableand the broad tilled fields by the river bank, where corn stood shockedamong the stubble. Afternoon came and soon it was time for them tostart. There were laughing farewells and a promise that they would stopon the return trip, and before Jeremy could come back to earth the gloomof the forest shut in above their heads once more. They put the horsesto a canter as soon as the ridge was cleared, for there were still tenmiles to go and the light was waning. Jeremy was very much at home inthe woods, but the chill, sombre depths that appeared and reappeared oneither hand seemed to warn him to be prepared. He reached to thesaddlebow, undid the flap of the pistol holster, and made sure that hisweapon was loaded, then put it back, reassured. The footing was bad, andthey had to go more slowly for a while. Then Bob, in the lead, came to amore open space where light and ground alike favored better speed. Hespurred his horse to a gallop and had turned to call to the others, whensuddenly the animal he rode gave a snort of fear and stopped with bracedforefeet. Bob, caught off his guard, went over the horse's head with alurch and fell sprawling on the ground in front. Then he gave a scream,for not two feet away he saw the short, cruel head of a coiledrattlesnake.

  Jeremy, riding close behind, pulled up beside the other horse and threwhimself off. Even as he touched the ground a sharp whirr met his earand he saw the fat, still body and vibrating tail of the snake. Hewrenched the pistol from the holster, took the quickest aim of his lifeand pulled the trigger. After the shot apparently nothing had changed.The whirr of the rattle went on for a second or two, then graduallysubsided. Bob lay white-faced, and still as death. Jeremy drew a stepcloser and then gave a choked cry of relief. The snake's smooth,diamond-marked body remained coiled for the spring. Its lithe forepartwas thrust forward from the top coil and the venemous, blunt head--butthe head was no more. Jeremy's ball had taken it short off.

  Bob was unhurt, but badly shaken and frightened, and they followed thetrail slowly through the dusk. Then just as the shadows that obscuredtheir way were turning to the deep dark of night a small light becamevisible straight ahead. They pushed on and soon were luxuriouslystretched before a log fire in the Curtis plantation house, while Mrs.Robbins, the overseer's wife, poured them a cup of hot tea.

  When bedtime came, Bob came over to Jeremy and gave him a long grip ofthe hand, but said never a word. There was no need of words, for the NewEngland boy knew that his chum would never be quite happy till he couldrepay his act in kind. Yet he could not tell Bob that the shooting of asnake was but a small return for the gift of a vision of one of heaven'sangels. Each felt himself the other's debtor as they got into the greatfeather bed side by side.