Commodore Junk — page 182: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE PEST OF THE WEST. 175 wide wings were spread, and she was speeding on over the calm waters to the shelter, far away, that formed the buc- caneers’ retreat and impregnable home, while Commodore Junk went down to his cabin, to kneel by the coffin side, and pray for strength to complete his vengeance against the world and those who had robbed him of the only one he loved. CHAPTER XIX. THE PEST OF THE WEST. THE merchants of Bristol sent in a petition to His Majesty the King, saying that the trade of the port was being ruined, that their ships were taken, that the supplies of sugar and tobacco must run short, and that, while the ladies would suffer as to their coffee, there would soon be no snuff ground up for the titillation of the noses of the king’s liege subjects. Always the same story—Commodore Junk, in command of a long, low, fast-sailing schooner, was here, there, and every- where. This sugar and coffee-laden ship was plundered and burnt off Kingston port, so near that the glow of the fire was seen. That brig, full of choice mahogany logs, was taken near Belize. A fine Bristol bark, just out of the great port of South Carolina, full of the choicest tobacco leaf, was taken the next week. And soon, and soon. Ships from Caracas, from the Spanish, French, and Dutch settlements, heavily laden, or from England outward bound, were seized. All was fish that came to the pirate’s net, and if the vessels were foreign, so much the worse for them, the buccaneer captain dealing out his favours with fairly balanced hand till the shores of the great CONnnicloOol<s