CHAPTER XXXVIII
AGAIN DICKORY WAS THERE
There were indeed gay times in Spanish Town, and with the two loadslifted from her heart, Kate helped very much to promote the gaiety. Ifthis young lady had wished to make a good colonial match, she hadopportunities enough for so doing, but she was not in that frame ofmind, and encouraged no suitor.
But, bright as she was, she was not so bright as on that great andglorious day when she received Ben Greenway's letter, telling her thather father was no longer a pirate. There were several reasons for thisgradually growing twilight of her happiness, and one was that no lettercame from her father. To be sure, there were many reasons why no lettershould come. There were no regular mails in these colonies which couldbe depended upon, and, besides, the new career of her father, sailing asa privateer under the king's flag, would probably make it verydifficult for him to send a letter to Jamaica by any regular orirregular method. Moreover, her father was a miserable correspondent,and always had been. Thus she comforted herself and was content, thoughnot very well content, to wait.
Then there was another thing which troubled her, when she thought of it.That good man and steady lover, Martin Newcombe, had written that he wascoming to Spanish Town, and she knew very well what he was coming forand what he would say, but she did not know what she would say to him;and the thought of this troubled her. In a letter she might put off theanswer for which he had been so long and patiently waiting, but when shemet him face to face there could be no more delay; she must tell him yesor no, and she was not ready to do this.
There was so much to think of, so many plans to be considered in regardto going back to Barbadoes or staying in Jamaica, that really she couldnot make up her mind, at least not until she had seen her father. Shewould be so sorry if Mr. Newcombe came to Spanish Town before her fathershould arrive, or at least before she should hear from him.
Then there was another thing which added to the twilight of thesecheerful days, and this Kate could scarcely understand, because shecould see no reason why it should affect her. The Governor, whom theyfrequently met in the course of the pleasant social functions of thetown, looked troubled, and was not the genial gentleman he used to be.Of course he had a right to his own private perplexities and annoyances,but it grieved Kate to see the change in him. He had always been socordial and so cheerful; he was now just as kind as ever, perhaps alittle more so, in his manner, but he was not cheerful.
Kate mentioned to her uncle the changed demeanour of the Governor, buthe could give no explanation; he had heard of no political troubles, butsupposed that family matters might easily have saddened the good man.
He himself was not very cheerful, for day after day brought nearer thetime when that uncertain Stede Bonnet might arrive in Jamaica, and whatwould happen after that no man could tell. One thing he greatly feared,and that was, that his dear niece, Kate, might be taken away from him.Dame Charter was not so very cheerful either. Only in one way did shebelieve in Stede Bonnet, and that was, that after some fashion oranother he would come between her and her bright dreams for her dearDickory.
And so there were some people in Spanish Town who were not as happy asthey had been.
Still there were dinners and little parties, and society made itselfvery pleasant; and in the midst of them all a ship came in fromBarbadoes, bringing a letter from Martin Newcombe.
A strange thing about this letter was that it was addressed to Mr.Delaplaine and not to Miss Kate Bonnet. This, of course, proved theletter must be on business; and, although he was with his little familywhen he opened his letter, he thought it well to glance at it beforereading it aloud. The first few lines showed him that it was indeed abusiness letter, for it told of the death of Madam Bonnet, and how thewriter, Martin Newcombe, as a neighbour and friend of the family, hadbeen called in to take temporary charge of her effects, and, having doneso, he hastened to inform Mr. Delaplaine of his proceedings and to askadvice. This letter he now read aloud, and Kate and the others weregreatly interested therein, although they cautiously forbore theexpression of any opinion which might rise in their minds regarding thisturn of affairs.
Having finished these business details, Mr. Delaplaine went on and readaloud, and in the succeeding portion of the letter Mr. Newcombe beggedMr. Delaplaine to believe that it was the hardest duty of his whole lifeto write what he was now obliged to write, but that he knew he must doit, and therefore would not hesitate. At this the reader looked at hisniece and stopped.
"Go on," cried Kate, her face a little flushed, "go on!"
The face of Mr. Delaplaine was pale, and for a moment he hesitated,then, with a sudden jerk, he nerved himself to the effort and read on;he had seen enough to make him understand that the duty before himwas to read on.
In an instant Dickory was there.]
Briefly and tersely, but with tears in the very ink, so sad were thewords, the writer assured Mr. Delaplaine that his love for his niece hadbeen, and was, the overpowering impulse of his life; that to win thislove he had dared everything, he had hoped for everything, he had beenwilling to pass by and overlook everything, but that now, and it torehis heart to write it, his evil fortune had been too much for him; hecould do anything for the sake of his love that a man with respect forhimself could do, but there was one thing at which he must stop, atwhich he must bow his head and submit to his fate--he could not marrythe daughter of an executed felon.
Thus came to that little family group the news of the pirate Bonnet'sdeath. There was more of the letter, but Mr. Delaplaine did not read it.
Kate did not scream, nor moan, nor faint, but she sat up straight in herchair and gazed, with a wild intentness, at her uncle. No one spoke. Atsuch a moment condolence or sympathy would have been a cruel mockery.They were all as pale as chalk. In his heart, Mr. Delaplaine said: "Isee it all; the Governor must have known, and he loved her so he couldnot break her heart."
In the midst of the silence, in the midst of the chalky whiteness oftheir faces, in the midst of the blackness which was settling down uponthem, Kate Bonnet still sat upright, a coldness creeping through everypart of her. Suddenly she turned her head, and in a voice of wildentreaty she called out: "Oh, Dickory, why don't you come to me!"
In an instant Dickory was there, and, cold and lifeless, Kate Bonnet wasin his arms.
Kate Bonnet: The Romance of a Pirate's Daughter Page 38
