Great Britain -- History -- Stuarts, 1603-1714 -- Fiction
He then went on to tell me that this pretended merchant, this
Mr. George Penne, was the most notorious kidnapper in the whole
of Bristol; that he was always raking the prisons of rogues and
sending them abroad for sale on the Plantations; that at this time
he was looking to make a great profit, because there were so many
prisoners that all could not be hanged, but most must be either
flogged and sent about their business, or else sold to him and his
like for servitude. 'As for any money paid for your passage,' he
went on, 'I assure you, Madam, upon my honour, that nothing at all
has been paid by him; nor has he provided you with any change of
clothes or provisions of any kind for the voyage; nor hath he asked
or bargained for any better treatment of you on board than is given
to the rogues below; and that, Madam,' he added, 'is food of the
coarsest, and planks, for sleep, of the hardest. The letter which
you have shown me is a mere trick. I do not think there is any such
person in Boston. It is true, however, that there is a family of
your name in Boston, and that they are substantial merchants. I make
no doubt that as he hath treated you, so he will treat your friends;
and that all the money which he has taken from you will remain in
his own pocket.'
'Then,' I cried, 'what am I to do? Where look for help?'
''Tis the damnedest villain!' cried the Captain, swearing after
the profane way of sailors. 'When next I put in at the Port of
Bristol, if the Monmouth scare be over, I will take care that all
the world shall know what he hath done. But, indeed, he will not
care. The respectable merchants have nothing to say with him--he is
now an open Catholic, who was formerly concealed in that religion.
Therefore, he thinks his fortune is at the flood. But what is to be
done, Madam?'
'Indeed, Sir, I know not.'
He considered a while. His face was rough and coloured like a ripe
plum with the wind and the sun; but he looked honest, and he did
not, like Mr. Penne, pretend to shed tears over my misfortunes.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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