windar
Teller of Tales
May 20, 1716. Off of Charleston
The good burghers of Charleston apparently did not know with whom they were dealing. Around mid-day on May 18, the sailor on watch in the crow’s nest reported that a small boat was headed towards the mouth of the harbor. Taking Tricia and Barbara, now recovered thanks to the excellence of Prihaya’s medicine and much improved in her demeanor by the flogging, I went out in one of our skiffs to meet them. In their boat, rowed by a Negro slave were two representatives of the Provincial Council.
Their proposal to resolve our unfortunate situation was, quite frankly, ludicrous. They offered a mere trifle, less than half of what had been asked for the safe return of Wragg, Jollrei, Repertor and his wife. I informed them that unless they could do substantially better and quickly, I was fully prepared to take to sea, where I would happily have our guests walk the plank to be devoured by sharks.
The representatives pleaded poverty, claiming that this pittance was all that the entire city of Charleston could lay its hands on at the moment. I suggested they try harder. The next day they came back to inform me that they had, Oh, Miracle, managed to raise additional funds, bringing them close to what had been asked, but still somewhat short. Feeling the urge to be shed of this dreary town and its environs, I agreed and the exchange of hostages and filthy lucre was to take place on the next day, May 20 on a small spit of sand near the entrance of the harbor at noon.
And so it did, under the guns of the Clitoris perched just offshore to guard against any unexpected surprises, I ventured out of the scrub down to the water’s edge to accept the payment in the form of a nice collection of gold and silver coins of English, Spanish, French and a few other vintages. Once I had assured myself that the correct amount had been rendered, I motioned to Tash who urged the four hostages out of their cover and onto the open sand.
I stepped aside to allow them to climb into the boat, shaking each one’s hand. “I hope you had a pleasant stay with us,” I told them. The three gentlemen smiled. Mrs. Repertor insisted on hugging me for a prolonged period. I thought she might never let go, though finally she did and climbed into the boat. Once they were all aboard, the Negro began rowing, straining to move the boat with the additional passengers on board. I waved as they left, heading for the port. Once they were out of sight, we made for the Clitoris and set sail for Ocracoke.
The good burghers of Charleston apparently did not know with whom they were dealing. Around mid-day on May 18, the sailor on watch in the crow’s nest reported that a small boat was headed towards the mouth of the harbor. Taking Tricia and Barbara, now recovered thanks to the excellence of Prihaya’s medicine and much improved in her demeanor by the flogging, I went out in one of our skiffs to meet them. In their boat, rowed by a Negro slave were two representatives of the Provincial Council.
Their proposal to resolve our unfortunate situation was, quite frankly, ludicrous. They offered a mere trifle, less than half of what had been asked for the safe return of Wragg, Jollrei, Repertor and his wife. I informed them that unless they could do substantially better and quickly, I was fully prepared to take to sea, where I would happily have our guests walk the plank to be devoured by sharks.
The representatives pleaded poverty, claiming that this pittance was all that the entire city of Charleston could lay its hands on at the moment. I suggested they try harder. The next day they came back to inform me that they had, Oh, Miracle, managed to raise additional funds, bringing them close to what had been asked, but still somewhat short. Feeling the urge to be shed of this dreary town and its environs, I agreed and the exchange of hostages and filthy lucre was to take place on the next day, May 20 on a small spit of sand near the entrance of the harbor at noon.
And so it did, under the guns of the Clitoris perched just offshore to guard against any unexpected surprises, I ventured out of the scrub down to the water’s edge to accept the payment in the form of a nice collection of gold and silver coins of English, Spanish, French and a few other vintages. Once I had assured myself that the correct amount had been rendered, I motioned to Tash who urged the four hostages out of their cover and onto the open sand.
I stepped aside to allow them to climb into the boat, shaking each one’s hand. “I hope you had a pleasant stay with us,” I told them. The three gentlemen smiled. Mrs. Repertor insisted on hugging me for a prolonged period. I thought she might never let go, though finally she did and climbed into the boat. Once they were all aboard, the Negro began rowing, straining to move the boat with the additional passengers on board. I waved as they left, heading for the port. Once they were out of sight, we made for the Clitoris and set sail for Ocracoke.
