When Black Paul had gone to execute his orders, Ben Greenway heaved a heavy sigh. "Now I begin to fear, Master Bonnet, that the day o' your salvation has really gone by. When ye not only murder an' rob upon the high seas, but keep consort with other murderers an' robbers, then I fear ye are indeed lost. But I shall stand by ye, Master Bonnet, I shall stand by ye; an' if, ever I find there is the least bit o' ye to be snatched from the flames, I'll snatch it!"

"I don't like that sort of talk, Ben Greenway," cried Bonnet, "especially at this time when my soul swells with content at the success which has crowned my undertakings. This Blackbeard is a valiant man and a great one, but it is my belief that when we have sat down to compare our notes, it will be found that I have captured as many cargoes, burned as many ships, and marooned as many people in my last cruise as he has."

"So I suppose," said Ben, "that ye think ye hae achieved the right to sink deeper into hell than he can ever hope to do?"

Bonnet made no answer, but turned away. The Scotchman was becoming more and more odious to him every day, but he would not quarrel on this most auspicious morning. He must keep his mind unruffled and his head high. He had his own plans about Greenway: he was not far from Barbadoes, and when he left the harbour of Belize it would be of advantage to his peace of mind as well as to the comfort of a faithful old servant if he should anchor for a little while in the river below the town and put Ben Greenway on shore.

Ben gave no further reason for quarrelling. He was greatly dejected, but he had sworn to himself to stand by his old master, no matter what might happen, and when he took an oath he meant what he swore.

Dickory Charter was in much worse case than Ben Greenway. He was not much of a geographical scholar, but he knew that the Gulf of Honduras was not really very far from the Island of Jamaica, where dwelt, waited, and watched Mistress Kate Bonnet and his mother. If he had known that during the voyage down from the Atlantic coast the Revenge had sailed through the Windward Passage, running in some of her long tacks within less than a day's sail of Jamaica, he would have chafed, fumed, and fretted even more than he did now.

"Captain Bonnet," he cried, "if you could but let me go on shore, I might surely find some vessel bound to Kingston, or to any place upon the Island of Jamaica, from which spot I could make my way on foot, even if it were on the opposite end. Thus I could take messages and letters from you to your daughter and Mr. Delaplaine, and ease the minds both of them and my mother, all of whom must now be in most doleful plight, not knowing anything about you or hearing anything from me, and this for so long a time; then you could remain here with no feelings of haste until you had disposed of your cargoes and had finished your business."

Captain Bonnet stood loftily with a smile of benignity upon his face. "It is a clever plan," said he, "and you are a good fellow, Dickory, but your scheme, though well intentioned, is unsound. I have too much regard for you to trust you in any vessel sailing from Belize to Kingston, where there are often naval vessels. Going from this port, you would be as likely to be strung up to the yard-arm as to be allowed to go ashore. Be patient then, my good fellow; when my affairs are settled here, the Revenge may run up to the coast of Jamaica, where you may be put off at some quiet spot, and all may happen as you have planned, my good Dickory. Even now I am writing a letter, hoping for some such opportunity of sending it to my daughter."

Dickory sighed in despair. It might take a month or more before Kate's father could settle his affairs, and how long, how long it had been since his soul had been reaching itself out towards Kate and his mother!

When the sailing-master set out in the long-boat, crowded with men, he stopped at the bark but did not go too near for fear that some of the crew might jump into his already overloaded boat.