To this I could make no objection, so I agreed to keep what I knew secret. But I perceived full well that my uncle, had he not openly expressed to his friend such contempt for the French ship (as he thought her) would have let Sir Harry wait until he had proved her to be the Sure Hawk and brought Rodrigues to justice, for he was very revengeful when roused, and full of hatred for the man who cheated him; but because he feared ridicule—having condemned that for worthless which but twelve months before he had bought for the best ship ever built—he would do nothing. For which weakness, God knows, he was fully punished in the end.
Our business being brought to an end at Portsmouth, we sailed our new ships into Falmouth Haven; and their names were the Sea Lion and the Faithful Friend. And here were piles of merchandise waiting to be shipped, for Lady Biddy Fane had faithfully bought and prepared every sort of thing in just proportion as before our going Sir Bartlemy had set down an inventory; and none but a capable woman of stout purpose and strong heart could have done so much.
To work went all to get this store aboard—the very house servants being pressed into service (such as they could compass), under the direction of Lady Biddy; yet could not all be done in a day, nor much less than three weeks, and no time lost.
All this time my mind was exceedingly uneasy, less Rodrigues should hear of our expedition, and seek to do us harm. And with this dread I made inquiries (privately) if during my absence any one had called to see me, and I found no one had asked for me. Then I felt sure that Rodrigues or Parsons and his men were at Penzance, and none others but they. For otherwise to a certainty the wives and sweethearts of those men drawn from Penny-come-quick and Truro to our first venture, hearing as they must of my return, would have sought me for tidings of them. And if they were in communication with those men, then must our enemies know that I had come back, and that another expedition was fitting out. I knew the nature of Rodrigues—subtile and daring wretch!—merciless in the pursuit of plunder, and bloody as those beasts of prey which will kill, though they be too surfeited to eat, their quarry.
At length all was ready for our departure. Lady Biddy having paid off all her servants (save a good wench whom she took with her) sent her plate and treasures to a silver-smith in Exeter; and so, to cut this matter short, put her estate in the hands of a trusty steward, and bade farewell to her friends. We all got on board: my uncle and Lady Biddy in the Faithful Friend, which was the larger and better ship of the two, and I in the Sea Lion. For though Sir Bartlemy would have had me with him, and Lady Biddy said nothing to discourage me therefrom, yet did I feel that it would be better that I should not see her, fearing her beauty might stir up the passion in my breast, and lead me again into evil thoughts.
It was arranged that the breeze proving prosperous the next morning we should depart at break of day; and license was given to the crew to make merry on board till ten o'clock, that they might start with a cheerful heart.
Now while the men were rejoicing after the fashion of mariners, there comes a wherry alongside with a woman in it; and this woman cries out to know if Jack Stone is aboard that ship or the Faithful Friend. There was no man of our crew with that name; but this woman being comely and buxom, with a merry face, the men did pretend that Jack Stone was aboard, but too drunk to stir; and with that they asked her to come up and give him a kiss for farewell.
"Why," says she, coming up the side without more ado, "do you start so soon? Jack told me yesterday you did not set out for a week."
"We sail at daybreak, sweetheart," says the gunner, taking her about the waist.
And this was what she had come to learn, as I feel convinced; for as soon as she had heard as much as was to be pumped out of these fuddled fellows, she left them, and was rowed ashore, never having again asked after the man she called Jack Stone.