so black that it terrified his own
men. His wrath was not aimed at Jack Cockrell, for he laid a hand upon
the lad's arm and exclaimed:

"A shrewd stroke, boy, and a mettlesome spirit! You struck him swift and
hard. 'Twould please me better if you had killed the dog."

Stede Bonnet waited with folded arms until the culprit had emerged from
the water. Jack Cockrell had punished him severely and there was no more
fight in him. His head was reeling, the blood ran into his eyes, and he
had swallowed much salt water. Captain Bonnet crooked a finger at him
and he obeyed without a word. For a moment they stood face to face, the
wretched offender trembling, the captain scowling as he said:

"And so you mistook a lady for a common serving wench, Will Brant? Would
ye have Charles Town rise and reeve the ropes about our necks? Is this
your promise of good behavior? Learn a lesson then, poor fool."

With the steel-shod butt of a pistol Stede Bonnet hit him squarely
between the eyes. He dropped without a groan and lay stretched out as if
dead. The captain kicked him once and carelessly shouted:

"Ho, men! Toss this squire o' dames into the pinnace to await our
return. And harkee, take warning."

Jack Cockrell felt almost sorry for his fallen foeman but the other
pirates grinned and did as they were told. It was a trifling episode.
Resuming his stroll to the tavern, Captain Bonnet linked Jack's arm in
his and fairly towed him along while the assorted scoundrels trooped
behind them. It was shocking company for a lad of the most respectable
connections but he felt greatly flattered by the distinction. The name
of Stede Bonnet had spread terror from the Capes of the Chesapeake to
the blue waters of the Caribbean.

"And so you were unafraid of this bullying Will Brant of mine," said the
captain, with one of his pleasant smiles. "You clipped his comb right
handsomely. And who may ye be, my brave young sprig?"

"I am John Spencer Cockrell, may it please you, sir," was the answer.
"'Twas a small thing to do for a lady. Your pirate would have been too
much for me in a fair set-to."

"Pirate? A poor word!" objected Captain Bonnet, his accents severe but
the bold eyes twinkling. "We are loyal servants of the King, sworn to do
mischief to his lawful enemies,--to wit, all ships and sailors of Spain.
For such a young gentleman adventurer as you, Master Cockrell, there is
a berth in the _Royal James_. Will ye rendezvous at the tavern and