High rose the spirits of the good Mr. Delaplaine; banished was all the overhanging blackness of his dreaded interview with Kate.  The sky was bright, her soul was singing songs of joy and thankfulness, and his soul might join her.  He never appreciated better than now the blessings which might be shed upon humanity by the death of a bad man.  His mind even gambolled a little in his relief.

“But, Kate,” he said, “if we leave that kind Captain Ichabod, and he be not restrained by our presence, then, my dear, he will return to his former evil ways, and his next captures will not be like this one, but like ordinary piracies, sinful in every way.”

“Uncle,” said Kate, looking up into his face, “it is too much to ask of one young girl to undertake the responsibilities of two pirates; I hope some day to be of benefit to my poor father, but when it comes to Captain Ichabod, kind as he has been, I am afraid I will have to let him go and manage the affairs of his soul for himself.”

Her uncle smiled upon her.  Now that he was to go back to his home and take this dear girl with him, he was ready to smile at almost anything.  That he thought one pirate much better worth saving than the other, and that his choice did not agree with that of his niece, was not for him even to think about at such a happy moment.  It was not long after this conversation that the largest boat belonging to the Restless was rowed over to the brig, and in it sat, not only Kate, Dame Charter, and Dickory, but Captain Ichabod, who would accompany his guests to take proper leave of them.  The crew of the pirate sloop crowded themselves along her sides, and even mounted into her shrouds, waving their hats and shouting as the boat moved away.  The cook was the loudest shouter, and his ragged hat waved highest.  And, as Dame Charter shook her handkerchief above her head and gazed back at her savage friend, there was a moisture in her eyes.  Up to this moment she never would have believed that she would have grieved to depart from a pirate vessel and to leave behind a pirate cook.

Lucilla watched carefully the newcomers as they ascended to the deck of the Black Swan.  “That is the girl,” she said to herself, “and I am not surprised.”

A little later she remarked to Captain Ichabod, who sat by her:  “Are they mother and daughter, those two?”

“Oh, no,” said he.  “Mistress Bonnet is too fine a lady and too beautiful to be daughter to that old woman, who is her attendant and the mother of the young fellow in the cocked hat.”

“Too fine and beautiful!” repeated Lucilla.

“I greatly grieve to leave you all,” continued the young pirate captain, “although some of you I have known so short a time.  It will be very lonely when I sail away with none to speak to save the bloody dogs I command, who may yet throttle me.  And it is to Barbadoes you go to settle with your family?”

“That is our destination,” said Lucilla, “but I know not if we shall find the money to settle there; we were taken by pirates and lost everything.”