Perhaps it was during these thoughtful, meditative days that he persuaded a young lady to become his fourteenth wife for there is record of a merry marriage at which Governor Eden himself condescended to appear as a well-wishing guest and give the occasion the suitable air to promote the new Mrs. Blackbeard’s social fortunes. At the feast a good deal of somebody else’s rum, somebody else’s victuals and somebody else’s money were laid under contribution. Governor Eden, however, had a peculiarly happy detachment to the minor questions of somebody else’s property. That phase of his disposition doubly endeared him to his pirate friend. But the gold pieces that he sent spinning dwindled anon; little Toby Knight began to bore him and even the Governor commenced to get on his nerves. Respectable shore life was entirely too much for him, so Blackbeard again yearned for the reeling decks and the roar of his bully boys. With a laudable regard for the proprieties, he gave out that he was putting to sea again on a “commercial venture,” and even registered his ship at the local customs house. “Salvage,” he murmured, looking intently into little Toby’s honest face; pressing the secretary’s round, fat hand in farewell. “Salvage,” grinned Toby, glad to get even the friendly grip of the sea monster released, and instinctively rubbing his hand slyly on the tails of his flaring coat. Still delicate, Blackbeard waited until the land faded into the sea line behind him ere, with the feeling that he had had a pleasant vacation and was glad to get back to work again, he threw out his sinister ensign,--the flag of skull and bones. Blackbeard was himself again. And now there happened that which many of the crew had often fearfully predicted,--the Devil came aboard Blackbeard’s ship. The weather had been threatening for some time, and now, on a late afternoon, the great ocean heaved murmurously beneath the bows. In the rigging the wind fretted and complained, shrilly and more shrilly as though the white-green tumult of the waters was disturbing it; in the cabin below the dark horror of delirium tremens was falling upon the bearded master. On the decks, the mate--doubtless the effective Mr. Richards--stripped his ship for the approaching combat and drove his men aloft into the swaying yards. Now and then Blackbeard, still the sailor, reeled on his cabin threshold and blurted insane orders to the gale. Whereat Mr. Richards, well accustomed to the storms of wind and waves and delirious masters, slammed the door in his face and laughingly went about his work. Palely the day expired in the west, and as though they had only been waiting for the night, wind and water strengthened to the struggle and now persuaded a third element, the rain, to join them in the conspiracy of destruction. These three witches began to make the cauldron boil. Mr. Richards still laughed; his sails were in and he was with the helmsman, sweating to keep the vessel from a fatal lurch.