"Oh, uncle," she exclaimed, "we must follow him, we must take him, we must hold him! I care not where he is, even if it be in the company of the dreadful Blackbeard! We must take him, we must hold him, and this time we must carry him away, no matter whether he will or not. I believe there must be some spark of feeling, even in the heart of a bloody pirate, which will make him understand a daughter's love for her father, and he will let me have mine. Oh, uncle! we were very wrong. When he was here with us we should have taken him then; we should have shut him up; we should have sailed with him to Kingston."
All this was very depressing to the soul of Kate's loving uncle, for how was he to sail after her father and take him and hold him and carry him away? He went away to talk to the captain of the Belinda, but that tall seaman shook his head. His vessel was not ready yet to sail, being much delayed by the flight of Bonnet. And, moreover, he vowed that, although he was as bold a seaman as any, he would never consent to set out upon such an errand as the following of Blackbeard. It was terrifying enough to be in the same bay with him, even though he were engaged in business with the pirate, for no one knew what strange freak might at any time suggest itself to the soul of that most bloody roisterer; but as to following him, it was like walking into an alligator's jaws. He would take his passengers back to Kingston, but he could not sail upon any wild cruises, nor could he leave Belize immediately.
But Kate took no notice of all this when her uncle had told it to her.
She did not wish to go back to Jamaica; she did not wish to wait at Belize. It was the clamorous longing of her heart to go after her father and to find him wherever he might be, and she did not care to consider anything else.
Dame Charter added also her supplications. Her boy was with Blackbeard, and she wished to follow the pirate's ship. Even if she should never see Major Bonnet--whom she loathed and despised, though never saying so--she would find her Dickory. She, too, believed that there must be some spark of feeling even in a bloody pirate's heart which would make him understand the love of a mother for her son, and he would let her have her boy.
Mr. Delaplaine sat brooding on the deck. The righteous anger kindled by the conduct of his brother-in-law, and his grief for the poor stricken women, sobbing in the cabin, combined together to throw him into the most dolorous state of mind, which was aggravated by the knowledge that he could do nothing except to wait until the Belinda sailed back to Jamaica and to go to Jamaica in her.