Pirate's Promise

by Clyde Robert Bulla

  Dedication

  To Mildred Phipps,

  who started Tom on his long journey

  Contents

  Dedication

  CHAPTER 1 Big John

  CHAPTER 2 Tom and Dinah

  CHAPTER 3 Down to London

  CHAPTER 4 The Crib

  CHAPTER 5 In the Cabin

  CHAPTER 6 Diggory

  CHAPTER 7 Sail Ho!

  CHAPTER 8 Captain Land

  CHAPTER 9 The Pirate Ship

  CHAPTER 10 The Island

  CHAPTER 11 Captain Red

  CHAPTER 12 A Boy in Carolina

  CHAPTER 13 The Meeting

  CHAPTER 14 In the Moonlight

  CHAPTER 15 A Strange Journey

  CHAPTER 16 The Plantation House

  CHAPTER 17 The Moon and a Garden

  Excerpt from A Lion to Guard Us

  About the Author

  By Clyde Robert Bulla

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  1. Big John

  Late in the year 1716 Big John Ludd came home from sea. He left ship in London, but he stayed in the great city not at all. With his sea chest on his shoulder, he began to walk.

  All day he walked through wind and snow. It was night when he came to a village on the bank of a river.

  He stopped at a poor little house. “Open!” he shouted, and he beat on the door with his fist.

  A cry came from inside. “Children, it’s your father! Your father’s come home!”

  A woman opened the door. “Oh, my dear husband!” she cried.

  “Let me in, woman. It’s freezing cold outside.” He pushed her out of the doorway and went into the house.

  A few coals burned in the fireplace. There was no other light in the room.

  He sat down by the fire.

  “My dear husband,” the woman said again. “It’s good to see you there in your old place.”

  “How are the children?” he asked.

  “As well as can be, all seven of them,” she said. “They just had their supper.”

  “Well, where are they?” he shouted. “Don’t they know their father’s home?”

  In the dark corners of the room, shadows began to move. A snub-nosed boy came out into the firelight. He pushed his long black hair out of his eyes.

  “That’s a good boy, Jacky,” said the woman. “Run and give your father a kiss.”

  The boy’s face turned red. “Oh, Ma!” he said.

  “You’re a fine lad, Jacky—a fine, big lad,” said his father. “Now let’s have a look at the others.”

  One by one, the rest of the seven came out into the light. They were all boys, with black hair and snub noses. The two smallest ones began to cry.

  “Don’t be making faces at me!” said Big John. “I’m your father.”

  “They are only babies,” said their mother, “and you’ve been gone a year. You can’t blame them if they don’t know you yet.”

  Jacky went close to his father. “There’s more here that you’ve not seen,” he said.

  “Hush!” said his mother.

  “What’s this?” asked Big John. “Who is here that I’ve not seen?”

  “Don’t be angry,” said his wife. “Promise me you won’t be angry.”

  “I’ll promise nothing. What are you keeping from me?” Big John tried to look into the shadows. “Who is hiding there?”

  A girl came out into the light. She was a pretty girl with a pale, frightened face.

  Behind her came a boy. He was straight and tall, and his hair was red. He said in a clear voice, “We weren’t hiding, sir.”

  Big John’s mouth fell open. “Well!” he said. “And who might you be?”

  “Tom Pippin, sir,” said the boy, “and this is my sister, Dinah.”

  Big John looked at his wife.

  “These are my brother’s children,” she said. “They came here after my poor brother died. They had no mother or father—”

  “They came here to live?” said Big John.

  “They had no other place to go,” she said.

  “How long have they been here?” he asked.

  “Two months,” she said.

  Jacky spoke up. “It’s three months.”

  His mother said quickly, “To bed, you children. To bed now, all of you.”

  The children went to bed. They curled up like cats wherever they could find a place. Some slept on an old mat. Some slept on the bare floor.

  Big John and his wife sat alone by the fire.

  She said in a low voice, “Don’t be angry, please. I couldn’t turn my brother’s children away. Tom is only twelve, just the age of our Jacky. The girl is ten and small for her age. They can’t look out for themselves.”

  “Three months!” said Big John. “Three months those brats have been here, taking the bread from my children’s mouths.”

  “They don’t eat much,” she said. “The girl eats no more than a bird, and she’s a good little thing. I’m glad to have a girl in the house. She helps in ever so many ways.”

  “That may be,” said Big John, “but what about the boy?”

  “Tom’s not a bad boy,” she said. “He and the girl are different from our children, but I’m fond of them—”

  “Different?” said Big John. “How do you mean?”

  “Their father was a schoolmaster, you know,” she said. “They can read and write.”

  “They can, can they?” said Big John. “Maybe they think that makes them better than us. But they’re not too good to live in my house and eat my bread.”

  “Please!” whispered his wife. “They’ll hear you.”

  “Let them hear me, then,” he said. “This is their last night under my roof. Out they go tomorrow!”

  2. Tom and Dinah

  In the morning Big John had breakfast with his wife and children. They ate by the fire.

  Tom and Dinah ate in the pantry, among the pots and pans. It was cold there, but they were glad to be alone together. They talked in whispers.

  “Did you hear him last night?” asked Dinah. “‘Out they go tomorrow.’ That’s what he said.”

  “I heard him,” said Tom.

  “What are we going to do?” she asked.

  “Sleep under the trees,” he said. “Eat strawberries and cream.”

  “In the winter? That’s foolish!” she said.

  “I was only trying to make you laugh,” he said. “Remember how we used to laugh and be foolish together?”

  “There’s nothing to laugh about in this house,” she said. “Do you know it’s three days till Christmas? And I’ve nothing to give you.”

  “I’ve nothing to give you, either,” he said, “but some day I’ll give you a hundred presents all at once.”

  The door opened. Jacky put his head into the pantry. “I hear you out there,” he said. “I hear you whispering your secrets.”

  Tom and Dinah said nothing.

  “Ma was easy on you,” said Jacky, “but it won’t be the same now that Pa is home. Pa doesn’t like any beggars around.”

  “We’re not beggars,” said Tom.

  “You will be, when Pa turns you out of the house,” said Jacky. “Down the road you’ll go, like two bobtailed birds. The wind will be blowing and the snow will be flying, and how will you like that?”

  He shut the pantry door. In a moment he was back. “Pa wants to see you now.”

  Tom and Dinah looked at each other. Without a word they got up and followed Jacky.

  Big John sat by the fire. He said to Dinah, “My wife says you help her with the work here.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said.

  “My wife says you’re a good girl,” he said.

  “I try to be, sir,” she said.


  “She says she needs a girl.” Big John looked at Tom. “But seven boys is enough.”

  “Yes, sir,” said Tom.

  “Did your father leave you any money?” asked Big John.

  “No, sir,” said Tom.

  “You look able to work,” said Big John. “I’ve got friends in London. One of them might have work for a boy your size. How does that sound to you?”

  “Very good, sir,” said Tom. “What kind of work would it be?”

  “I couldn’t say,” said Big John. “I’d have to talk that over with my friends. One of these days I’ll take you down to London, and we’ll see what we can do.”

  Tom was too surprised to answer.

  Afterward, when he and Dinah were alone in the pantry, he said, “Did you hear Uncle John? He’s not going to turn us out. He’s going to be kind to us.”

  “If he takes you to London, I want to go, too,” said Dinah. “I want us to be together.”

  “So do I,” said Tom. “When I get work in London, we will be together. First we’ll have a room or two. Then, when I get ahead in my work, we’ll have a whole house.”

  “With a little garden?” she asked.

  “We’ll have a big garden if you want it,” he said.

  “I hope we can have a garden like the one at home,” she said, “and I can sit there in summer and watch the moon come up. Tom, what made Uncle John change?” she asked. “Last night he was going to turn us out.”

  “Maybe he was cold and tired last night,” said Tom. “Maybe he feels better today. Did you see him, Dinah? He even smiled at us.”

  “I saw him, and I didn’t like it. It wasn’t a good smile.” Tears came to Dinah’s eyes. “I wish he wouldn’t take you away.”

  “Maybe he won’t,” said Tom. “He may forget all about it.”

  But Big John did not forget.

  The next day he said to Tom, “Be ready in the morning. If tomorrow is a fine day, I’ll take you down to London.”

  3. Down to London

  The next day was fair. The wind had stopped blowing.

  Big John said to Tom, “Get your clothes.”

  Dinah packed Tom’s clothes. She tied them in a small, neat roll.

  She said, “I wish London weren’t so far.”

  “It isn’t so far,” he said.

  “When will you send for me?” she asked.

  “As soon as I can,” he said. “Don’t forget, first we’ll have a room. Next we’ll have a house. Then we’ll have a garden.”

  She tried not to cry when they said good-by. Big John’s wife stood beside her in the doorway. They both waved. Jacky looked out from behind them and made a face. Then Tom and Big John were on their way to London.

  They walked through the village and down the road. Horses and wheels had made tracks in the snow. Tom and Big John walked in the tracks.

  Late in the day they came to London. Tom had thought it would be a beautiful place. He was disappointed to find the streets so dirty. The smoke in the air made him sneeze.

  But there was much to see. There were horses and carriages. There were Christmas trees in the windows. There were people everywhere—more people than Tom had ever seen before.

  Big John took him to a room in an inn. It was a tiny room with a bed and a chair. There was a window that looked down on the street.

  “Wait here,” said Big John, “and don’t try to go anywhere by yourself. If you do, you’re sure to get lost.”

  He went away.

  Tom looked out the window. The city was growing dark. He saw a lamplighter go by and light the lamps along the street.

  Far away a church bell rang. He could hear boys and girls singing in the street. They were singing a Christmas song.

  Tom turned from the window. He was sleepy and tired. He lay down on the bed and pulled the covers over him. Almost at once he was asleep.

  There was a light in the room when he woke. Big John was there with a little man in a long black cloak.

  “Get up.” Big John pulled Tom out of bed. “You’re going with Sparrow.”

  The other man had Tom’s roll of clothing in his hands. He threw it, and Tom caught it.

  “Come along, Redhead,” he said.

  Tom was still half asleep. Sparrow caught his arm and led him out of the room.

  “Where are we going?” asked Tom.

  “Not far,” said the man.

  “Isn’t my uncle coming with us?”

  “You don’t see him, do you?”

  They were out in the street. The cold air struck Tom in the face. He was wide awake now.

  “Am I going to work for you?” he asked.

  The man did not answer. He led the way down a dark street. Tom could smell the river. At the end of the street he could see light shining on the water.

  They walked out onto a wharf. There was a plank from the wharf to the deck of a ship. Tom read the name on the ship. It was Lady Peg.

  “Up you go,” said Sparrow.

  Tom drew back. “Why are we going on a ship?”

  “Because I say so.” The man pushed Tom up the plank.

  “Wait!” said Tom. “I’ll not go on this ship till you tell me—”

  Sparrow gave him another push. Tom turned and began to fight.

  “Leave off!” cried Sparrow. “You’ll have us both in the water!”

  “Get out of my way!” Tom struck Sparrow in the chest. The man slipped on the plank. He fell and pulled Tom down with him. Before Tom could get to his feet, he was caught in Sparrow’s cloak.

  He could not see or cry out. He could hardly breathe. Sparrow dragged him up the plank and onto the ship.

  Tom heard a man ask, “Did he give you a fight?”

  “That he did,” said Sparrow. “My legs are black and blue.”

  “Take him below,” said the other man. “Leave him in the crib till we’re on our way.”

  4. The Crib

  The crib was a wooden cage below the deck of the ship. It was so small that when Tom stood up, his head came to the top. There was barely room for him to lie down.

  It was dark all about him. He could see nothing, but he could hear footsteps above.

  “Let me out!” he shouted. He beat on the crib. He kicked the door. “Let me out!”

  Now and then he stopped to listen. No one answered him. He was not sure that anyone could hear him.

  In the morning a little light came into the crib. Tom looked through the bars. He could see boxes and tubs and water barrels. He knew that he must be in the ship’s storeroom.

  There were footsteps on the deck above. Men were shouting. He felt the ship move.

  A man came into the storeroom. He had brought a plate of food.

  “Let me out!” said Tom.

  “I can’t be doing that,” said the man. “I’m the cook on this ship, not the captain.”

  “I want to see the captain,” said Tom.

  “You’ll be seeing him soon enough,” said the cook.

  “Why are they keeping me here?” asked Tom. “What’s to be done with me?”

  “You’ll be knowing soon enough.” The cook pushed the plate of food through the bars of the crib. He started away.

  “Come back,” said Tom.

  “What now?” asked the cook.

  “Won’t you tell me whose ship this is and where it’s taking us?” asked Tom.

  “I can’t stay and talk,” said the man. “I’ve got my work.” But he did stay a minute longer. “Eat your food. I put a bit of pudding on the side, because of Christmas.”

  Tom looked at the plate of salt fish with a bit of black pudding on the side. So it was Christmas Day, and this was his Christmas dinner.

  5. In the Cabin

  The ship was two days at sea before Tom was let out of the crib.

  It was Sparrow who opened the door.

  “Keep quiet, and do as you’re told,” he said, “and you’ll come to no harm.”

  He climbed a ladder and was gone.


  Tom followed him up the ladder. He stepped out on deck. Some of the seamen turned to look at him, but no one spoke.

  The cold wind nearly swept him off his feet. He looked out over the gray water. There was no land in sight.

  He went to the other side of the deck where the wind was not so strong. A boy stood there by the rail. He was tall, with long arms and legs.

  “You, there!” he said. “I never saw you before.” He kept staring at Tom. “I was said to be the only boy on this ship. What might your name be?”

  “Tom Pippin,” Tom told him.

  “Mine is Diggory—Diggory Smith,” said the other boy. “Where did you come from? Did you drop down out of the sky?”

  “I’ve been in the crib,” said Tom.

  “The crib? Oh, that’s cruel!” said Diggory. “Why did they put you there?”

  “I don’t know,” said Tom. “I know nothing of this ship or where it’s sailing or why I’m on it.”

  “Then why did you come on board?” asked Diggory.

  “I didn’t come on board,” said Tom. “A man dragged me. I tried to get away, and he threw me into the crib.”

  “I don’t understand,” said Diggory. “Start at the beginning. Tell me what happened.”

  Tom told him about coming to London with Big John. He told about Sparrow.

  “Sparrow? I know him,” said Diggory. “He’s a seaman on this ship.”

  “He brought me here,” said Tom.

  “Now I see!” said Diggory. “Your uncle sold you.”

  “Sold me?” said Tom.

  Diggory nodded. “He sold you to the captain of this ship. The captain sent Sparrow to bring you on board.”

  “No one could sell me!” said Tom.

  “Ah, you know better than that,” said Diggory. “You’re bonded, Tom, the same as I am.”

  “Bonded?” said Tom.

  “Captain Tooker paid your uncle to sign a paper,” said Diggory. “It’s a paper called a bond. The captain will take you across the sea to where workers are needed. He will sell your bond for as much money as he can get. Then you belong to the man who buys your bond, and you have to work for him.”

  “Like a slave?” asked Tom. “The rest of my life?”