But when he reached the ship, three men out of each boat’s crew, selected at random to represent the rest, were tied up and flogged, the blows being well laid on by scoundrels very eager to be brutal, even to their own shipmates.

“Ah!  Dickory, Dickory,” cried Ben Greenway, as they were sailing down the bay, “ye have loaded your soul wi’ sin this day; I fear ye’ll never rise from under it.  Whatever vile deeds that Major Bonnet may henceforth be guilty o’ ye’ll be responsible for them a’, Dickory, for every ane o’ them.”

“He’s bad enough, Ben,” said the other, “and it’s many a wicked deed he may do yet, but I am going to carry news of him to his daughter if I can; and what’s more, I am not going to stay behind and be hanged, even if it is in such good company as Major Bonnet and you, Ben Greenway.”

Whatever should happen on the rest of that voyage; whether the well-intentioned treachery of Ben Greenway, or the secret villainies of the crew, should prevail; whether disaster or success should come to the planter pirate, Dickory Charter resolved in his soul that a message from her father should go to Kate Bonnet, and that he should carry it.

* * * * *

The spirits of Dickory rose very much as the bow of the Revenge was pointed southward.  Every mile that the pirate vessel sailed brought him nearer to the delivery of his message—­a message which, while it told of her father’s wicked career, still told her of his safety and of his steadfast affection for her.  Indirectly, the bringing of such a message, and the story of how the bearer brought it, might have another effect, which, although he had no right to expect, was never absent from Dickory’s soul.  This ardent young lover did not believe in Master Martin Newcombe.  He had no good reason for not believing in him, but his want of faith did not depend upon reason.  If lovers reasoned too much, it would be a sad world for many of them.

When the Revenge stopped in her progress towards the heavenly Island of Jamaica, or at least that island which was the abode of an angel, and anchored off Charles Town harbour, South Carolina, Dickory fumed and talked impatiently to his friend Ben Greenway.  Why a man, even though he were a pirate, and therefore of an avaricious nature, should want more booty, when his vessel was already crowded with valuable goods, he could not imagine.

But Ben Greenway could very easily imagine.  “When the spirit o’ sin is upon ye,” said the Scotchman, “the more an’ more wicked ye’re likely to be; an’ ye must no’ forget, Dickory, that every new crime he commits, an’ a’ the property he steals, an’ a’ the unfortunate people he maroons, will hae to be answered for by ye, Dickory, when the time comes for ye to stand up an’ say what ye hae got to say about your ain sins.  If ye had stood by me an’ helped to cut him short in his nefarious career, he might now be beginnin’ a new life in some small coastin’ vessel bound for Barbadoes.”