"Why, as it was told by Wilks, your ship Iris was set upon by a fast sloop which came out of the starboard quarter at dawn on the eighth day of April, the Iris being then at about latitude thirty, having made very little southing because of scant and fitful winds, also a sudden leak near the water line—but Captain Foster, it seems, preferred to beat out the passage to Barbados with extra toil at the pumps rather than put back to Norfolk, the Lord having so moved his heart to his own sad destruction."
"What?" said Jenks. "What? What did you say?"
"Why—he was lost, Mr. Jenks, with the others. On the eighth of April the weather was fair, the sea moderate. The sloop ran up a French flag and may have been a privateer. The boy Wilks, however, said that the men who boarded the Iris appeared to be plain pirates, and their general conduct of the affair would so indicate. Yet they allowed Wilks and four others, all wounded and of no mind to go on the account, to take the longboat, so to make the continental shore if they might or the Bermudas—thus carrying out the plain intent of Providence that the intelligence should come to us for a warning and a judgment. They could not row with much effect, yet the Lord sent them a southwesterly, early for the season, and by his infinite mercy they did cross the course of the Regina as I have said, after nine days afloat with a trifle of water and biscuit, during which time two of the men died of their wounds, having accomplished their part in God's purpose."
"Sam Foster," Jenks said. "Sam was a sailor of King William's time. How did he die, Mr. Eames? Will you tell me how he died?"
"It would appear he placed the Iris in posture to resist as best he might, but was overwhelmed. A shot at close quarters swept away the mainmast. The pirates grappled, swarmed aboard superior in numbers and weapons. They were stripping the ship of all they wished to carry aboard the sloop, when the longboat was put overside. Wilks and the others saw her burned to the water, the sloop bearing off south by southeast."
Daniel Shawn grunted. "They will have been from the Bahamas, Mr. Kenny—wolves, sir, wolves, and with the flags of a dozen nations in the locker to suit the occasion."
"Eh? Yes, I suppose. Mr. Eames, did any go alive on the sloop?"
At least, Reuben observed, the old man was letting him keep a hand on his arm, seemed even to welcome it, and must know that Ben was on his other side. John Kenny was not predictable, his manner tending to put love in its place—an acquaintance respected, possibly feared a little, and not permitted any too forward liberties.
"The boy Wilks thought not, Mr. Kenny, but was not certain. One of the cutlass blows had destroyed his right eye."
Captain Jenks panted: "Mr. Eames—I asked you—be there any word how Sam Foster died?"