Patroon van Volkenberg : $b A tale of old Manhattan in the year sixteen hundred & ninety-nineStephenson, Henry Thew
History
Patroon van Volkenberg : $b A tale of old Manhattan in the year sixteen hundred & ninety-nine
Stephenson, Henry Thew
Manhattan (New York, N.Y.) -- Fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- Colonial period, ca. 1600-1775 -- Fiction
In this way our short-lived reunion came to an end. I watched the Royal
Lion drop behind till, night coming on, I could no longer see her.
Strange to say, my captors had nothing to say to me for a while, and
left me quite alone as long as I wished to keep my eyes on the vessel
that contained my sister. In fact the treatment I met with at the hands
of the buccaneers was such as to belie much of what I had heard
concerning their reprobate character. When I passed my word of honor,
they allowed me the freedom of the deck and set no sort of watch upon
me. Some of them who thought that I had showed bravery in the fight even
pressed me to join their crew, offering me equal rights with the
buccaneers who had ventured money in the ship. Though I would not hear
to this, I won favor in other ways, particularly by casting their
accounts and by writing fair in the logbook. I practiced a good hand for
the latter business, which was eventually the means of saving my life.
One day when I was engrossing the date in large round letters at the top
of the page, the captain, who was looking over my shoulder, began to
laugh. He would not tell me what amused him, though he imparted it to
his companions. Each one as he heard it looked at me and clapped his
hands for fun. It was not long, however, before I understood how they
intended to make use of my scanty store of learning.
About a week later we sighted a point of land. Though we soon passed
this cape, I knew by many signs that we were making for the coast. That
afternoon the chief spoke to me in the cabin.
“Monsieur Le Bourse, you know very well that you are our prisoner, and
we paid dear for you, too; that was a jolly brush we had with the Royal
Lion. Once more, and this is the last time I’ll say so, you can have
full freedom and a share in the prize money if you will sign our
articles.”
“I shall not do it,” I replied haughtily. “Take your own way with me.”
At that he opened a locker, not at all offended by my manner, and drew
out a suit of black clothes and a powdered wig which he told me to put
on. This done he handed me a book and a silver-topped cane.
“Now walk,” he cried, “from here to the porthole and back again. There,
there, you’ll do,” he went on, chuckling with delight. “Now, look you
here, Monsieur Le Bourse, we are going to redeem you in the plantations
for a schoolmaster, for they are sore in need of a little sense in Lord
Baltimore’s colony. That’s where we shall set you. On my life, we’ll do
it! And a brave dominie you’ll make in your black coat and wig.”
I did not resent this arbitrary disposition of my services. I had
expected to walk the plank, and this was a great sight better than that.
So I waited patiently for this new change in my fortunes. On the evening
before we reached port I was seated in the bow of the ship alone. No one
was near me, and soon the captain crept stealthily to my side.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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