At this moment there was a knock at the door and the captain of the Belinda came in.
"Good-day, sir!" said that burly seaman. "And this is Captain Bonnet, I am sure, for I have seen him before, though garbed in another fashion, and I come to bring you news. I have just arrived at this port in my sloop, and I bring with me from Kingston your daughter, Mistress Kate Bonnet, her uncle, Mr. Delaplaine, and a good dame named Charter."
Stede Bonnet turned pale as he had never turned pale before.
"My daughter!" he gasped. "My daughter Kate?"
"Yes," said the captain; "she is on my ship, yearning and moaning to see you."
"From Kingston?" murmured Bonnet.
"Yes," said the other, "and on fire to see you since she heard you were here."
"Master Bonnet," exclaimed Ben Greenway, rising, "we must hasten to that vessel; perhaps this good captain will now tak' us there in his boat."
Bonnet fixed his eyes upon the floor. "Ben Greenway," he said, "I cannot. How I have longed to see my daughter, and how, time and again and time and again, I have pictured our meeting! I have seen her throw herself into the arms of that noble officer, her father; I have heard her, bathed in filial tears, forgive me everything because of the proud joy with which she looked on me and knew I was her father. Greenway, I cannot go; I have dropped too low, and I am ashamed to meet her."
"Ashamed that ye are honest?" cried the Scotchman. "Ashamed that sin nae longer besets ye, an' that ye are lifted above the thief an' the cutpurse! Master Bonnet, Master Bonnet, in good truth I am ashamed o' ye."
"Very well," said the captain of the Belinda, "I have no time to waste; if you will not go to her, she e'en must come to you. I will send my boat for her and the others, and you shall wait for them here."
"I will not wait!" exclaimed Bonnet. "I don't dare to look into her eyes. Behold these clothes, consider my mean employment. Shall I abash myself before my daughter?"
"Master Bonnet," exclaimed Greenway, hastily stepping to the doorway through which the captain had departed, "ye shallna tie yoursel' to the skirts o' the de'il; ye shallna run awa' an' hide yoursel' from your daughter wha seeks, in tears an' groans, for her unworthy father. Sit down, Master Bonnet, an' wait here until your good daughter comes."
The Belinda's captain had intended to send his boat back to his vessel, but now he determined to take her himself. This was such a strange situation that it might need explanation.