es. They rowed
toward the _Plymouth Adventure_ and there were enough of them to carry
her by boarding. In addition to this, she was directly under the guns of
Blackbeard's powerful ship. One valorous young gentleman passenger
whipped out a rapier and swore to perish with his face to the foe, but
Captain Wellsby kicked him into the cabin and fastened the scuttle. This
was no time for dramatics.

"It looks that the old ruffian comes on a peaceful errand," said the
skipper, by way of comfort. But the hysterical ladies below decks
redoubled their screams and one substantial merchant of Charles Town
scrambled down to hide himself among them. Mr. Peter Arbuthnot Forbes
folded his arms and there was no sign of weakness in his pink
countenance. His dignity still sustained him.

As agile as monkeys, the mob of pirates poured over the bulwark,
slashing through the hammock nettings, and swept forward in a compact
mass, driving Captain Wellsby's seamen before them and penning them in
the forecastle. Having cleared the waist of the ship, they loitered
there until a few of them discovered the galley and pantry. They swept
the shelves and lockers bare of food like a pack of famished wolves.
Jack Cockrell looked at them from the poop and perceived that they were
a gaunt, ragged lot. The skins of some were yellow like parchment, and
fits of trembling overtook them. Something more than dissipation ailed
them.

With a body-guard of the sturdiest men, Blackbeard clambered up the
poop ladder and, with wicked oaths, told the skipper to stand forth.
Clean and trig and carefully dressed, Captain Jonathan Wellsby
confronted these savage, unwashed pirates and calmly demanded to know
their errand. It was plain to read that Blackbeard thought himself an
imposing figure. With a smirk and a grimace he bowed clumsily to a woman
on deck who had refused to desert her husband. He growled like a bear at
Captain Wellsby and prodded the poor man with his cutlass as he
thundered:

"You tried my patience, shipmaster, with your cracking on sail. A little
more and I'd ha' slit your throat. Blood an' wounds, would ye dare to
vex Blackbeard?"

Captain Wellsby faced him with unshaken composure and returned in a
strong voice:

"I beg no favors for myself but these helpless people, women amongst
them, came on board with my assurance of safety. They have friends and
kinsmen in Charles Town who will ransom them in gold."

Blackbeard's mien was a shade less