et and he faltered, with unsteady voice:

"Forgive me, sir, for all the trouble I have made you. Never did I
expect a parting like this."

"A barbarous coast, Jack, and a hard road to old England," smiled the
Secretary of the Council. "Have a stout heart. By God's grace I shall
soon deliver you from these sea vermin."

The boy watched the long-boat hoist sail with a grizzled, scarred old
boatswain from the _Revenge_ at the tiller. It drove for the blue
fairway of the channel between the frothing shoals of the bar and made
brave headway for the harbor. Then the ships stood out to sea to go
clear of a lee shore and the captives of the _Plymouth Adventure_
endured the harrowing suspense with such courage as they could muster.
Should any accident delay the return of the long-boat beyond two days,
even head winds or foul weather, or if there was lack of medicines in
the town, they were doomed to perish.

Jack Cockrell endured it with less anguish than the other wretched
hostages. He had the sublime confidence of youth in its own destiny and
he had found a chum in a boyish pirate named Joseph Hawkridge who said
he had sailed out of London as an apprentice seaman in a ketch bound to
Jamaica. He had been taken out of his ship by Blackbeard, somewhere off
the Azores, and compelled to enlist or walk the plank. At first he was
made cook's scullion but because he was well-grown and active, the chief
gunner had taken him over as a powder boy.

This Joe Hawkridge was a waif of the London slums, hard and wise beyond
his years, who had been starved and abused ever since he could remember.
He had fled from cruel taskmasters ashore to endure the slavery of the
sea and to be kidnapped into piracy was no worse than other things he
had suffered. A gangling lad, with a grin on his homely face, he had
certain instincts of manliness, of decent conduct, although he had known
only men whose souls were black with sin. Heaven knows where he learned
these cleaner aspirations. They were like the reflection of a star in a
muddy pool.

It was easy for Jack Cockrell to win his confidence. Few of his
shipmates spoke kindly or showed pity for him. And their youth drew them
together. Jack's motive was largely curiosity as soon as he discovered
that here was one of Blackbeard's crew ready to confide in him. The two
lads chatted in sheltered corners of the deck, between watches, or met
more freely in the night hours. Jack shuddered at some of the tale