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

The boats plied steadily between the two vessels, and on one of the trips Mr. Delaplaine went over to the brig on business, and also glad to escape for a little the dreaded interview which must soon come between himself and his niece.

“Now, sir,” said the merchant to the captain of the brig, “you will make a bill against me for the provisions which are being taken to that pirate, but I hope you have reserved a sufficient store of food for your own maintenance until you reach a port, and that of myself and two women who wish to sail with you, craving most earnestly that you will land us in Jamaica or in some place convenient of access to that island.”

“Which I can do,” said the captain, “for I am bound to Kingston; and as to subsistence, shall have plenty.”

On the brig Mr. Delaplaine found Captain Ichabod, who had come over to superintend operations, and who was now talking to the pretty girl who had seized him by the arm when he was about to slay the naval officer.

“I would talk with you, captain,” said the merchant, “on a matter of immediate import.”  And he led the pirate away from the pretty girl.

The matter to be discussed was, indeed, of deep import.

“I am loath to say it, sir,” said Mr. Delaplaine, “when I think of the hospitality and most exceptional kindness with which you have treated me and my niece, and for which we shall feel grateful all our lives, but I think you will agree with me that it would be useless for us to pursue the search after that most reprehensible person, my brother-in-law, Bonnet.  There can be no doubt, I believe, that he and Blackbeard have left the vicinity of Charles Town, and have gone, we know not where.”

“No doubt of that, bedad,” said Ichabod, knitting his brows as he spoke; “if Blackbeard had been outside the harbour, this brig would not have been here.”

“And, therefore, sir,” continued Mr. Delaplaine, “I have judged it to be wise, and indeed necessary, for us to part company with you, sir, and to take passage on this brig, which, by a most fortunate chance, is bound for Kingston.  My niece, I know, will be greatly disappointed by this course of events, but we have no choice but to fall in with them.”

“I don’t like to agree with you,” said the captain, “but, bedad, I am bound to do it.  I am disappointed myself, sir, but I have been disappointed so often that I suppose I ought to be used to it.  If I had caught up with Blackbeard I should have been all right, and after I had settled your affairs—­and I know I could have done that—­I think I would have joined him.  But all I can do now is to hammer along at the business, take prizes in the usual way, and wait for Blackbeard to come south again, and then I’ll either sell out or join him.”

“It is a great pity, sir,” said Mr. Delaplaine, “a great pity—­”