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.