at Bath
Town and near by. They had been roving about the plantations and making
a nuisance of themselves and seemed ready to quit their red-handed
despot of a master. In this event he might have sought his old
hiding-place at the Inlet sooner than risk a clash with the force which
had been sent after him and of which he had been warned by Governor
Eden.

Lieutenant Maynard scouted in advance with the two sloops because there
was small danger of their getting aground and they could be moved along
with oars if the wind failed. The brigantine kept further offshore but
within signaling distance. She was running within sight of the
scattering barrier of low islands when Captain Wellsby summoned Joe
Hawkridge and informed him:

"You will act as pilot, Joe, once we fetch sounding on the Twelve Fathom
Bank. The chart is faulty, as ye know, and me and my mates are in
strange waters with a'mighty little elbow-room. You know the marks, I
take it."

"Aye, sir, I do that," answered Joe. "Then I stays aboard ship and miss
the chance to go pokin' about with a cutlass? I'm all screwed up to
terrible deeds, Cap'n Wellsby, after a spell o' mortal fear. And who
takes care of Master Cockrell if he goes in a boat?"

"His own lusty right arm, Joe. Avast with your melancholy. We must first
catch this Blackbeard."

Presently Joe Hawkridge footed it up the main shrouds to scan the sea
ahead and try to get a glimpse of that sandy bit of exposed shoal on
which he had been marooned. This would enable him to find the entrance
to the outer channel and so con the brigantine in from seaward. While he
shaded his eyes with his hand against the glare of the morning sun, one
of the sloops hoisted a string of bright signal flags and fired two
guns. The other sloop was seen to lower her topsail and wait for the
_King George_ to come up.

Joe Hawkridge climbed higher and found a perch where he could discern
the spars of a vessel etched almost as fine as threads against the azure
horizon. He was almost certain that the ship he saw was very close to
that tiny cay of which he had such unhappy knowledge. Soon he was able
to perceive that the vessel's sails were furled. This was an odd place
for an anchorage. His conjecture was confirmed when the _King George_
passed close to the nearest sloop and Lieutenant Maynard shouted:

"Stranded hard and fast! And she is deucedly like Blackbeard's brig."

Scampering to the deck, Joe Hawkridge mustered his gun's