The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

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СКАЧАТЬ the mealiest of potatoes, the whitest of bread, the freshest of butter, and the most immaculate coffee. To all these things their late sea fare afforded a striking contrast, and Solomon’s star declined sadly.

      The landlord they found most good-natured, and most genial, like all the inhabitants of this favored spot. He was communicative about himself, proud of his town, proud of the scenery around, and yet not at all inquisitive as to the purposes of his guests. This seemed to them to be the very man whom they might interrogate without endangering their secret; for, while his communicativeness would lead him to tell everything that there was to be told, his lack of curiosity would prevent him from asking any unpleasant questions.

      Accordingly, as soon as they could get a convenient chance, they button-holed the landlord, and began a series of questions of a very non-committal character, referring chiefly to the scenery of Mahone Bay, and the places most worthy of a visit. They did not make the remotest reference to the buccaneers or to Captain Kidd, but seemed to have their thoughts occupied with scenery only.

      The landlord grew eloquent upon the theme of the scenery of Mahone Bay. He told them about the islands, and mentioned the number very particularly, insisting upon it that their number was exactly three hundred and sixty-five. He spoke of the drive along the shore, of a place called Gold River, where there was excellent fishing, and finally mentioned a place which he called Aspotogon. Upon this theme he grew more enthusiastic than ever. Aspotogon, he said, was the highest mountain on the Atlantic coast of Nova Scotia, and the approach to it afforded a view of the most remarkable scenery in the whole bay. This approach lay through a narrow inlet which ran to the base of the mountain, and was called Deep Cove. It was bordered by precipices, for a long way, on either side, and was a wild and romantic spot. It terminated in a circular basin, on one side of which was a deep declivity, by which they could find the shortest ascent to the summit of Aspotogon; and, in addition to this, they could find fishing and bathing to their hearts’ content.

      In all this, however, there was no mention made of any island like the one which they wished to find. He mentioned, indeed, the names of several islands, in a casual sort of way, but made no allusion to any legends of the buccaneers. The only reference which he made to treasure, was on the name of that fishing stream which he had described to them. This was Gold River; and the name excited their attention. Bart asked what the name had reference to; and the landlord replied, that it arose from the color of its water. This commonplace derivation of such a name disgusted and disappointed them all, for they hoped to hear of a different origin, and one more in accordance with their present purpose.

      The landlord dwelt to a great extent on Aspotogon and Deep Cove, and finally offered to go there with them, if they felt inclined to make a visit to the place. Though the boys were still as eager as ever about the Island of the Buccaneers, yet they were by no means indifferent to the charms of a romantic place like this, nor at all disinclined to roam about the bay farther. The offer of the landlord was also an additional inducement, and they thought that in the intimacy of shipboard they might manage to get something more direct out of him, and learn from him all that there was to be learnt about any existing legends current among the people, such as the governor of Sable Island had mentioned. It was arranged, therefore, that they should go on the following day.

      After dinner the boys started off in different directions. Bruce in a boat, Arthur along the shore, Tom and Phil over the hills, while Bart and Pat sauntered about the wharves, catching star-fish, sea-urchins, and jelly-fish, of which there were myriads. Towards evening they returned to the inn, and found the landlord seated on the steps. They seated themselves too, and gradually fell into a conversation.

      “This bay must have been a great place in old times,” said Bart, trying to feel his way as easily as possible towards the subject of the buccaneers.

      The landlord shook his head with solemn emphasis.

      “Tre—mendous!” he slowly ejaculated.

      “Such a capital place for hiding from any ship that might be chasing!” said Bart; “so many islands! Why, if a ship once got in here, she could never be found.”

      “Best dodging-place in the world,” said the landlord. “Lots of islands, lots of harbors, and deep water too, everywhere.”

      “The old French days must have been pretty exciting hereabouts,” continued Bart, making a fresh advance. “The English and French used to have it hot and heavy; and I dare say this bay had its share of the fun.”

      “Of course, of course,” said the landlord; “and before that too, long before; and worse goings on than fair, stand-up fights. There’s been queer doings in these waters.”

      To these words the landlord gave emphasis by a significant shake of his head, which spoke unutterable things, and drove Bart and Pat wild with curiosity.

      “What do you mean?” asked Bart.

      The landlord looked at him solemnly for a few moments, and then asked,—

      “Did you ever happen to hear of Captain Kidd?”

      “Captain Kidd?” repeated Bart, in innocent wonder, “Captain Kidd? Hear of him? Of course I’ve heard of him. Everybody knows about him.”

      “Well, if that man’s ghost don’t haunt this bay, then I’m a monkey.”

      “Haunt this bay? What do you mean? What had Captain Kidd to do with this bay? He was hanged at London.”

      “He had a precious lot to do with this bay,” said the landlord, positively. “Why, I don’t see how that could be,” said Bart, trying to get the landlord excited by contradiction. “I don’t see how he ever could have been here. His story’s a simple enough one; soon told. I’ve heard it often. How he went from New York to London well recommended, and got a commission from the British government to command a ship, for the purpose of putting down pirates in India and the East. But this didn’t suit him quite; so he turned pirate himself. Most of his piracies took place in the East, though. It’s true he returned to America, and made a great panic; but he was captured and sent to England, where he was tried and executed. That was in 1699. I remember the date very well. So I don’t see how he could have done much about here.”

      Bart spoke very volubly, and seemed to have the Life of Captain Kidd at his tongue’s end. The landlord listened very attentively. But Bart’s words, instead of shaking his own convictions, only served, as Bart had hoped and intended, to strengthen and confirm them. As Bart spoke, he raised himself up out of the lounging attitude in which he had been sitting, looked full in Bart’s face, and as he ceased,—

      “Very well. Grant all that,” said the landlord, with a comprehensive sweep of his hand, which seemed to concede every single statement that Bart had made, in the fullest and frankest manner. “Grant—all—that—every word of it. I don’t doubt it at all—not me. Very well. Now mark me. Captain Kidd did really, and truly, and actually, flourish about here, in this here bay—for he’s left behind him the most—un—mis—tak—able in—di—ca—tions. I’ve seen ’em myself, with my own eyes. I’ve handled ’em myself, and with my own hands. And besides, that there pirate must have been about over the coast of America a good deal more than you give him credit for, or he wouldn’t have left a name behind, from one end of America to the other; and, at any rate, he must have been here, or else he wouldn’t have left behind what he has left, and what I’ve seen with my own eyes.”

      “I didn’t know,” said Bart, “that he had left any traces of himself here. What are they? What kind of traces?”

      “What kind of traces?” said the landlord. “Traces that beat everything in the СКАЧАТЬ