All the ships came in to Ocracoke about the same time; but Bonnet and a large number of men disdained to palter with the Act of Grace, and lay about the settlement waiting for Blackbeard to get over his whim and down to business. The days ashore passed in debauch. Here the softer side of Blackbeard’s character is shown in his affectionate devotion to fourteen wives,--as he called them. With them he was most playful and kittenish. He loved to make these ladies laugh by blowing out the candles with his pistols; or sometimes, crossing his arms, a weapon in each hand, he would fire promiscuously about the room, whereupon the most merry play of hide-and-seek was enjoyed by all the company, wives and visitors alike, when those who could not get under the table quickly enough would catch bullets in the funniest places,--like behind the ear or just above the heart. Everybody looked forward to these evenings. V Spring came on Ocracoke, and the adventure sap stirred in Blackbeard’s veins. He stood it until the end of May, then tore his oath in two, kicked the Act of Grace in the face, flung the skull and crossbones to his masthead and sailed off for Charles Town, his minion sloops dancing and bobbing on the waves beside him. He was going shopping, if you please, for medical supplies, a great necessity by reason of his fleet’s method of living and working. He was going to honor Charles Town with his patronage. While this happy surprise for the little colonial seaport was coming around the sea-washed bulk of Cape Fear, a Mr. Wragg and a Mr. Marks, on board a merchantman, were slipping across the Charles Town bar, bound for England. Both were prominent local gentlemen, Mr. Wragg being nothing less than an assemblyman. There were several other passengers on the list, while in the ship’s chest were seven thousand five hundred dollars in broad gold coins and pieces-of-eight. Mr. Marks stood at the stern of the ship and looked a long time at the old town as it dropped away behind them. “Neighbor Wragg,” said he with a gently melancholic sigh, “it will be many a day before we tread the streets of Charles Town again.” Mr. Wragg squeezed his friend’s hand sympathetically. “Only a twelvemonth perhaps,” he suggested. “Take courage, Marks.” They were both poor guessers. Instead of twelve months it was less than twelve days a good deal when Mr. Marks again looked his fellow citizens in the eye and face-to-face. If somebody had told his fortune at cards that night he might have truthfully said that a dark man was coming across the water to see him. “Do you see what I see?” asked the captain of the mate next day, as the gray light of morning was turning all the waters to the look of molten slate. The mate gazed northward. “I count four of ’em,” he said slowly. “Looks like they’re coming right for us.”