There was a peculiar feeling, somewhat allied to regret, yet perhaps even more to relief, when their picturesquely lawless friend took his departure. This sentiment was shared in lesser degree by the older, more experienced individuals of the party. But the girls were frankly grieved at the loss of so romantic an acquaintance—the tears, indeed, coming into Vanda’s eyes as she realised that she could hardly hope to know ‘a real pirate’ again.
‘Do you think he really _was_ engaged in the Black Flag business—death’s head and crossbones, and so on?’ queried Eric.
‘I don’t think that was ever proved,’ answered Lilburne; ‘more likely a trifle of privateering, or “blackbirding,” as labour-recruiting was called in the early days of the Queensland sugar-planting industry. But there _was_ a warrant out for him, and, indeed, for Hilary Telfer—that tall, fair man standing near Mrs. Banneret with his lovely wife; he was supercargo on board the famous _Leonora_.’
‘What a beautiful creature she is!’ said Hermione; ‘what a figure, what eyes, and such a face, lit up by a charming smile! She is something like a Spanish girl we saw at Santa Barbara, and yet not quite the same type—far more beautiful, with grace personified. I can’t quite place her.’
‘She is a descendant of Lieutenant Fletcher Christian, the leader of the mutineers of the _Bounty_, who disappeared somewhere about the year 1788, and formed that very interesting community at Pitcairn Island. They were not discovered until September 1808, when Captain Folger, of the American ship _Topaz_, seeing smoke rising from an island, from which a canoe was approaching, was hailed by the occupants in good Saxon English. “Won’t you heave us a rope, now?” was the request from the frail bark, and, a rope being thrown out, a fine young man sprang actively on deck. “I’m Thursday October Christian,” he said modestly, “son of Fletcher Christian, and the first man born on the island.” H.M.S. the _Briton_ and the _Tagus_—the former commanded by Sir T. Staines—were in search of an American ship which had seized some English whalers, when they suddenly came in sight of an uncharted island. It was Pitcairn, but should have been two hundred miles distant—being placed on the chart by Captain Carteret (who discovered it in 1767) three degrees out of its true longitude.’