Port of Errors
Page 24
“Davy, after I done what I done, I realized that in raiding Panama, as ordered by the King of England, I slaughtered women and children. Something within me burnt such guilt into my heart. I knew the loot and all the booty that came with it would haunt me for the rest of me days. No one was entitled to that treasure. Not me; not Scurvy. That is why I buried it and that is why I divided the map into coin and paper and separated them. Scurvy never knew he had the location all this time. You must find this treasure and do as seems right to you.”
Taking the time to converse for only a few more minutes, Father Morgan peacefully passed on. A few more tears were shed, as Black-Hearted and Sterling buried Father Morgan in a shallow grave akin to Captain and Katherine Stirvin, who lay peacefully at rest hand-in-hand in an unmarked grave.
Following Father Morgan’s burial, Black-Hearted stared pensively on the two coins in his hand. When out of nowhere, he realized, “If all this time Scurvy had plotted to kill my father and me, where is the coin that was meant for me?”
“I’m sure I don’t know,” replied Kenneth.
“Well, I think I have an idea,” said Black-Hearted, as he walked over to Scurvy’s mutilated corpse and took a knee by his side. Rummaging through his pockets, he pulled out a small leather purse. It was light and flat and it seemed to hold no money. Turning the small sack over, he shook it a few times over his hand. Just as he was about to dismiss his idea, out slipped a shiny, untouched coin. Just as the others, a few numbers had been sketched into the back of it, while a single digit graced the front. “That makes three,” he stated with a pensive smile.
When they finally departed Mr. Darcy’s estate, a silent but small hand placed an unforgettable cross hung by a tattered rope upon the unmarked stone by Captain Stirvin’s grave.
As the sun rose to midday, Black-Hearted made his way to the Sentry, their new ship-of-the-line, compliments of Admiral Flynn. Though the name was stripped from her bow, they would raise no colors until a name could be inscribed on her hull. The name by which Black-Hearted chose to call her was Morgan’s Ferry.
Before setting sail, Kenneth convinced Ryan and Justin to sail back to England aboard the Brier Sea, which had been patched up and made ready for the short journey home. “Send word to the Queen that both Captain Stirvin and Admiral Flynn are dead, as you have been witness to with your own eyes. But, you did not see him buried here, they died out at sea. Tell her what you will about me, it matters not. I have nothing to go home to and so I sail with Black-Hearted and whatever fate lies ahead for me there.”
Black-Hearted stood on the dock speaking with Mr. Darcy, while Dr. Rees waited anxiously by. “Take the doctor,” demanded Black-Hearted. “Do not allow him to leave until the deed be done; and the deed cannot be done without him. We’ll return in a few months.”
Morgan’s Ferry was quickly resupplied for their long journey. Black-Hearted was so eager to settle things with Sir Fouste and Isabel, his disposition toward them was frightful. Nonetheless, newly weighing upon his mind was Emily, whom Scurvy had mentioned having sold. Black-Hearted had sworn an oath, years ago, telling her he would someday come to find her again. And he felt that day was vast approaching.
Knowing that Sir Fouste now carried his hat, Black-Hearted set sail, speedily westward, toward the American Colonies of the New World. Upon the inside of his hat was a map leading to Sir Henry Morgan’s buried treasure; an irresistible temptation for any man, including Sir Fouste. But it was only Black-Hearted that knew of the coins of which only three remained. With a pit of anger wrenching within his gut, Black-Hearted raged onward with a searing heat boiling through his veins. Mr. Darcy and Dr. Rees looked on as Morgan’s Ferry took sail. Off in the distance, the echoing phrase often heard at sea was voiced, “Tighten the riggin’s! Keep a straight course, me hearties!”
The End!
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