. Kate Bonnet; the romance of a pirate's daughter. the deck. As Dickory stood gazing downward in awe-in all his life he had never seen a corpse—theman he had supposed dead opened his eyes for amoment and gazed with dull intelligence, andthen he gasped for rum. Dickory was quicklybeside him with a tumbler of spirits and water,which, raising the fallen mans head, he gavehim. In a few moments the eyes of CaptainVince opened wider, and he stared at the youngman in naval uniform who stood above him. Who are you ? he said in a low voice, butdistinct, an English officer? No, said Dickory, I am no off
. Kate Bonnet; the romance of a pirate's daughter. the deck. As Dickory stood gazing downward in awe-in all his life he had never seen a corpse—theman he had supposed dead opened his eyes for amoment and gazed with dull intelligence, andthen he gasped for rum. Dickory was quicklybeside him with a tumbler of spirits and water,which, raising the fallen mans head, he gavehim. In a few moments the eyes of CaptainVince opened wider, and he stared at the youngman in naval uniform who stood above him. Who are you ? he said in a low voice, butdistinct, an English officer? No, said Dickory, I am no officer andno pirate; I am forced to wear these clothes. And then, his natural and selfish instinctspushing themselves before anything else, Dick-ory went on: Oh, sir, if your men conquerthese pirates will you take me- but as he spokehe saw that the wounded man was not listeningto him; his half-closed eyes turned towards himand he whispered: More spirits! Dickory dashed into the cabin, half-filled atumbler with rum and gave it to Vince. Pres- 240. BLADE TO BLADE ently his eyes recovered something of their nat-ural glow, and with contracted brow he fixedthem upon the stream of blood which was run-ning from him over the deck. Suddenly he spoke sharply: i Young fel-low, he said, some paper and a pen, a pencil,anything. Quick! Dickory looked at him in amazement for amoment and then he ran into the cabin, soonreturning with a sheet of paper and an Englishpencil. The eyes of Captain Vince were now verybright, and a nervous strength came into hisbody. He raised himself upon his elbow, heclutched at the paper, and clapping it upon thedeck began to write. Quickly his pencil moved;already he was feeling that his rum-givenstrength was leaving him, but several pages hewrote, and then he signed his name. Foldingthe sheet he stopped for a moment, feeling thathe could do no more; but, gathering togetherhis strength in one convulsive motion, he ad-dressed the letter. Take that, he feebly said,
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