"Bless her heart, she shall have 'em now. We have rid from
Bristowe, sir, the captain and me, and we stayed but to put up our
horses at the Bull and Gate, where I left my bag filled with good
store of things for the old woman. Won't she open her eyes! Won't
she thank Heaven for bandy-legged Joe!"

We had now reached the door of Mistress Hind's house, and as I set
down the bag a great oath burst from Captain Benbow's lips.

"Split me!" says he, eying the splintered panel and the gap where
the knocker had been. "Had I those villains on deck they should
have a supper of rope's end, I warrant you."

His voice was rough, and his tongue had a keen Shropshire tang,
which indeed it never lost, giving thereby evidence to confute
those who afterwards claimed for him kinship with a noble family.
In truth Benbow was the son of an honest tanner of our town, and
took no shame of his origin: his greatness was above such pettiness
of spirit. He had run away to sea at an early age, and for some
years lived a hard life before the mast. But his native merits in
time triumphed over adverse fortune, and before he was thirty he
became master and in a good measure owner of a frigate which he
called The Benbow.

It is said, I know not with what truth, that his fortunes date from
an adventure that befell him in the year 1686. In the Benbow
frigate he was attacked by a sallee rover, who boarded him, but was
beaten off with the loss of thirteen men. Benbow (I tell the tale
as I heard it) cut off their heads and threw them into pickle. When