from Martin Newcombe.

The letter was a long one and told many things. The first part of it
Kate read to herself and kept to herself, for in burning words it
assured her that he loved her and would always love her, and that no
misfortune of her own nor wrongdoings of others could prevent him from
offering her his most ardent and unchangeable affection. Moreover, he
begged and implored her to accept that affection, to accept it now that
it might belong to her forever. Happiness, he said, seemed opening
before her; he implored her to allow him to share that happiness with
her. The rest of the letter was read most jubilantly aloud. It told of
news which had come to Newcombe from Honduras Gulf: great news,
wonderful news, which would make the heart sing. Major Bonnet was at
Belize. He had given up all connection with piracy and was now engaged
in mercantile pursuits. This was positively true, for the person who had
sent the news to Bridgetown had seen Major Bonnet and had talked to him,
and had been informed by him that he had given up his ship and was now
an accountant and commission agent doing business at that place.

The sender of this great news also stated that Ben Greenway was with
Major Bonnet, working as his assistant--and here Dame Charter sat
open-mouthed and her heart nearly stopped beating--young Dickory Charter
had also been in the port and had gone away, but was expected ere long
to return.

Kate stood on her tip-toes and waved the letter over her head.

"To Belize, my dear uncle, to Belize! If we cannot get there any other
way we must go in a boat with oars. We must fly, we must not wait.
Perhaps he is seeking in disguise to escape the vengeance of the wicked
Vince; but that matters not; we know where he is; we must fly, uncle,
we must fly!"

The opportunities for figurative flying were not wanting. There were no
vessels in the port which might be engaged for an indeterminate voyage
in pursuit of a British man-of-war, but there was a goodly sloop about
to sail in ballast for Belize. Before sunset three passages were engaged
upon this sloop.

Kate sat long into the night, her letter in her hand. Here was a lover
who loved her; a lover who had just sent to her not only love, but life;
a lover who had no intention of leaving her because of her overshadowing
sorrow, but who had lifted that sorrow and had come to her again. Ay
more, she knew that if the sorrow had not been lifted he would have come
to her