Englishmen, a wiry, spluttering
little Frenchman, a swarthy Portuguese with gold rings in his ears, a
brace of stolid Norwegians, and two or three coal black negroes from
Barbadoes.

They were well armed, every weapon burnished clean of rust and ready for
instant use. Some wore tarnished, sea-stained finery looted from hapless
prizes, a brocaded waistcoat, a pair of tasseled jack-boots, a plumed
hat, a ruffled cape. The heads of several were bound around with knotted
kerchiefs on which dark stains showed,--marks of a brawl aboard the brig
or a fight with another ship.

Soon a second boat moved away from the _Royal James_ and many people
drifted toward the wharf to see the pirates come ashore, but they left
plenty of room when the captain scrambled up the weedy ladder and told
his men to follow him. Charles Town felt little dread of Stede Bonnet
himself. He knew how to conduct himself as a gentleman and the story was
well known,--how he had been a major in the British army and a man of
wealth and refinement. He had left his home in Barbadoes to follow the
trade of piracy because he couldn't get along with his wife, so the
rumor ran. At any rate, he seemed oddly out of place among the dirty
rogues who sailed under the black flag.

He looked more the soldier than the sailor as he strode along the wharf,
his lean, dark visage both grim and melancholy, his chin clean shaven,
his mustachios carefully cropped. There were respectful greetings from
the crowd of idlers and a gray-haired seaman all warped with rheumatism
spoke up louder than the rest.

"Good morrow to ye, Cap'n Bonnet! I be old Sam Griscom that sailed bos'n
with you on a marchant voyage out of Liverpool. An' now you are a fine
gentleman of fortune, with moidores and pieces of eight to fling at the
gals, an' here I be, a sheer hulk on the beach."

Captain Stede Bonnet halted, stared from beneath heavy brows, and a
smile made his seamed, sun-dried face almost gentle as he replied:

"It cheers me to run athwart a true old shipmate. A slant of ill
fortune, eh, Sam Griscom? You are too old and crippled to sail in the
_Royal James_. Here, and a blessing with the gift."

The pirate skipper rammed a hand in his pocket and flung a shower of
gold coins at the derelict seaman while the crowd cheered the generous
deed. It was easy to guess why Stede Bonnet was something of a hero in
Charles Town. He passed on and turned into the street. Most of his
ruffians were at h