men moved
quietly to their battle stations, opening the gun-ports and casting
loose the lashings. The boys fetched paper cartridges of powder in
buckets from the magazine and the gunners lighted the matches of tow.
Cutlasses were buckled on and the pikes were scattered along the
bulwarks ready to be snatched up.

It was impossible to escape these three strange vessels by beating back
to Charles Town, for the _Plymouth Adventure_ made lubberly work of it
when thrashing to windward. She was a swift ship, however, before a fair
wind, and Captain Wellsby resolved to run for it, hoping to edge away
from danger if his suspicions should be confirmed.

Before sunset the largest of the strange sail shifted her course as
though to set out in chase and overhaul the deep-laden merchant trader.
Captain Wellsby stood near the tiller, his hands clasped behind him, a
solid, dependable figure of a British mariner. The passengers were
crowding around him in distressful agitation but he calmly assured them
a stern chase was a long chase and he expected to slip away under cover
of night. So far as he was aware, no pirates, excepting Stede Bonnet,
had been recently reported in these waters.

Here Mr. Peter Forbes broke in to say that the _Plymouth Adventure_ had
naught to fear from Captain Bonnet who had pledged his word to let her
sail unmolested. Other passengers scoffed at the absurd notion of
trusting a pirate's oath, but the pompous Secretary of the Council could
not be cried down. He was a canny critic of human nature and he knew an
honorable pirate when he met him.

It was odd, but in a pinch like this the dapper, finicky Councilor Peter
Arbuthnot Forbes displayed an unshaken courage as became a gentleman of
his position, while young Jack Cockrell had suddenly changed his opinion
of the fascinating trade of piracy. He had not the slightest desire to
investigate it at any closer range. His knees were inclined to wobble
and his stomach felt qualms. His uncle twitted him as a braggart ashore
who sang a different tune afloat. The lad's grin was feeble as he
retorted that he took his pirates one at a time.

The largest vessel of the pursuit came up at a tremendous pace, reeling
beneath an extraordinary spread of canvas, her spray-swept hull
disclosing an armament of thirty guns, the decks swarming with men. She
was no merchant ship, this was already clear, but there was still the
hope that she might be a man-of-war or a privateer. Ca