was the captain of my sloop – Williams said that while he was lying there under the pirates’ guns, he himself saw Blackbeard stop and levy upon some nine vessels of different sorts, rummaging all over their cargoes. He said it was chiefly rum and cloth the villain was after. Williams said that ‘t was reported the villains held every boat that came through the inlet, and would neither let them go in nor come out, but made ‘em all lie at anchor under his guns. He hath two armed sloops now and a crew altogether of some forty or sixty men, and twice or thrice as many more to call upon if he chooses.”
Lieutenant Maynard, of the Lyme, was standing by, listening to the talk.
“Why, zounds!” said he, “Why then do you people here in the provinces put up with such a rascal as this Teach or Blackbeard or what-ye-call-him? I’d blow him out of the water, were I in his Excellency’s place. Aye, I would fit out an expedition and send it down there and blow the villain clean out of the water and have done with him.”
“What was that?” said the Governor, turning around smiling toward the speaker. “Tut, tut! Lieutenant, that shows how little you men of war know about civil affairs. How could I, as Governor of Virginia, fit out an expedition and send it down into North Carolina. Ocracock is under Governor Eden’s jurisdiction, not under mine, and ’tis his place to move against pirates in the waters of his own province. They’re inland waters, and under the jurisdiction of North Carolina.”
“Well, your Excellency,” said Lieutenant Maynard, “to be sure I know naught about the law, and only about fighting. But if a villain stood at my neighbor’s door and stopped my own people from coming out and going in upon my business, and robbed them, By Zounds! your Excellency, I would have it out with him, even if I had to chase him into my neighbor’s house to do it.” The Governor laughed, and the little group around him joined in the laughter. Then his Excellency turned again to meet some new-comers who made their way toward him through the circle surrounding him.
“I do declare,” said Mr. Dillworth, “methinks Governor Eden of North Carolina is as bad as ever was Fletcher of New York at his worst times. ‘Twas through this Blackbeard that poor Ned Parker was murdered – the first young gentleman of Virginia. ’Tis currently known everywhere – and yet Eden grants the villain the King’s pardon as soon as he asks for it. ’Tis said his Excellency – Eden, I mean – has more than once had his share of the booty that the pirates have taken. Why, would you believe it, the villain pirate was only last year up here at Norfolk, coming and going as he pleased, carrying his Majesty’s pardon in his pocket and flaunting it in the eyes of everybody. Well, if ever we catch him, now he hath broken his pardon, ‘t will be a short enough shrift he’ll get of it, I’ll promise him.”
“How is Colonel Parker now?” asked Mr. Page.
“He’s about well now,” said Mr. Cartwright, a cousin of Colonel Parker’s. “I was at Marlborough last week, and his gout seems to have fairly left him.”
“Methinks he hath never been the same man since poor Master Ned was murdered,” said Mr. Dillworth. “I never saw anybody so broken by trouble as he was at that time.”
“His daughter, Miss Nelly, is a great beauty, I hear,” said Lieutenant Maynard.
“The girl is well enough,” said Mr. Cartwright briefly.
A group of some half dozen ladies and two gentlemen were gathered at one of the open windows, into which the warm air blew widely. One of the gentlemen was Mr. Harry Oliver, a young man about eighteen years old. He wore his own hair curled and hanging to his shoulders, and he put it back with his hand every now and then as he talked. He showed his white teeth when he smiled, and his large, dark eyes moved restlessly hither and thither.
“Yonder comes Dick Parker,” said he suddenly.
“Why, so it is,” said Miss Peggy Oliver. They all looked toward the new comer. “Upon my word,” she continued, “he is a man I can’t abide for the life of me. As proud, haughty a man as ever I saw. He turns me to a block of ice whenever I am near him, and I can’t find a word to say for myself.”
“Why, Peggy,” said Oliver, “that, then, must be why you can’t abide him,” and thereupon the group broke into a laugh.
Mr. Richard Parker, who had just come into the room, was standing quietly waiting to speak to the Governor. He did not try to push his way through the circle that surrounded his Excellency, and for a while nobody saw him. His handsome, florid face, surrounded by a fine powdered wig, looked calmly and steadily in the direction of the Governor. He stood quite impassive, waiting an opportunity to go forward when he would not have to push his way through the crowd. Presently some one saw him and spoke to the others, and they made way for him almost as with deference. He went forward calmly and paid his respects in a few brief words. He spoke with the Governor for a little while, or rather the Governor spoke to him, and he replied. All the time the Governor was speaking, Mr. Parker was looking steadily and composedly around the room, glancing back toward his interlocutor every now and then to reply. Presently there was a pause, and then at last Mr. Richard Parker bowed and withdrew to a little distance.
“Why, only look at him now,” said Peggy Oliver, “even his Excellency is not good enough for him.”
“Well, to be sure, Peggy,” said one of the elder ladies, “if Mr. Parker is proud, he hath enough to make him proud when you think what a great man of fashion he hath been in his day. ‘T is not every man who hath had the luck to be a friend of the Duke of Marlborough. ‘T is a wonder to me that he should ever have come here to the provinces, seeing what a great man of fashion he was at home in England.”
The two gentlemen burst out laughing. “Why,” said Will Costigan, “for that matter, ‘t was Hobson’s choice betwixt Virginia or the debtor’s prison, madam.”
“They say old Dunmore Parker when he was alive used to send a fortune every year to England for him to spend,” said one of the ladies. “Tom told me t’ other day that he one time played a game of piquet for four days on end. ‘T was with a Frenchman; a nobleman – I forget his name – who was a prisoner at Malplaquet. Indeed it must have been mightily hard upon him after his father died to find that all the estate, except the Dunmore Plantation, was left to his brother.”
Just then Mr. Parker approached the group and the talk ceased. He nodded to Oliver and then passed by and stood at a little distance looking about him. Presently Harry Oliver edged over toward him. “How d’ ye do, Parker,” said he.
Mr. Parker turned his eyes toward the young man with an answering “How d’ ye do, Oliver.”
There was a moment’s pause. “That’s a prodigious handsome piece of lace you’ve got there, Parker,” said the young man, looking at Mr. Parker’s cravat.
“‘T is good enough,” said Mr. Parker briefly.
“Is it Flemish?”
“Yes, sir.”
“We don’t come across any such lace as that here in Virginia,” said the young man.
“Don’t you?”
Oliver stood for a while in silence. Almost unconsciously he assumed somewhat of the older man’s manner, standing with his hands behind him and looking indifferently around the room. “Tell me, Parker,” said he, “do you go down to Parrot’s to-morrow?”
Again Mr. Parker looked slowly toward him. “To Parrot’s?” said he. “What d’ ye mean?”
“Why, have you not heard?” exclaimed the young man
